Crimson Footprints (25 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR

Before New York, Tak and
Deena spent each evening together, and after, each night.
Sometimes, Deena would watch Tak’s work unravel on canvas, other
times it was her who brought the office home—frowning over drafts
or fussing over notes. Most evenings they were content to walk
along the shore, brooding over nothing, over everything. They would
whittle away their time, cooking elaborate and sometimes disastrous
meals, musings really of what they thought they had at a Mexican or
Thai, Italian or French restaurant, just days prior. And the
weekends, why, Deena’s weekends were chock full now, Saturday
nights at a club, Sunday afternoons sailing, and Kenji’s baseball
games, whenever they happened. Nowhere in the mix was her family,
and for that, Deena was grateful.

When Deena let herself into
Tak’s place, it just before nine. In one hand was leftover pad
thai, which was promptly taken from her with a kiss on the cheek by
Kenji; and in the other, her purse and briefcase, lifted and tossed
aside by Tak. He greeted her with a warm and lingering kiss before
following Kenji into the kitchen to help dispose of their father’s
take-out.

As Deena stretched out on
the couch, pumps discarded, the Tanaka brothers joined her, two
heaping plates of pad thai in tow.

“
So, what did you guys go
over?” Kenji asked as he took a seat.

Deena shrugged. “Oh, the
usual. The vision for Skylife—my vision, his vision, the investor’s
vision. How we can all be happy and stay within budget.” She gave a
tired laugh before turning to Tak.

“
Did you get much done
today?”

“
Some. Not much. Mostly
just bullshitted with Kenji.”

His kid brother grinned. “By
that he means practiced the drums.”

Tak shot him an impatient
look. “If you could call that practice. Seemed more like a tutorial
to me. Apparently all of us were on a month long
vacation.”

Kenji blushed. “So, um,
Deena? The project’s going good then?”

“
Very,” Deena tried not to
smile.

“
And working with my dad?
Being around him? That’s okay, too?”

“
Surprisingly.”

Kenji frowned. “What’s it
like?”

“
What’s what like?” Deena
asked, stifling a yawn.

“
Being around him. I mean,
what’s he like?”

Deena froze with the
realization of what he was asking her.

Tak got up, sat down his
plate, went into his bedroom and slammed the door. Kenji watched
him before turning back to her.

“
Did I do
something?”

Deena shook her head. “No,
of course not.” She glanced at Tak’s closed door then back at
Kenji, deciding Tak would have to wait.

“
You—you wanted to know
about your father?”

He nodded. “Is he, like,
angry all the time with you, the way he is with me?”

Deena blinked. “What makes
you think he’s angry with you?”

Kenji shrugged. “I can tell.
I don’t see him much, and even when I do see him, he doesn’t look
glad to see me. Sometimes he calls me names.”

“
Names? Like
what?”

“
One time he called me a
mute, because I never talk around him. But I just don’t know what
to say.” Kenji paused. “Did you know that he didn’t want me?” He
glanced at Tak’s door cautiously.

“
Kenji! Why would say
something so horrible?”

“
Cause it’s
true.”

“
And how could you possibly
know that?”

“
I overheard him once. He
said that it was irresponsible for them to have a second child
since he’s gone all the time and mom’s a drunk. He said that they
took the proper precautions and he didn’t see how it could
happen.”

Deena cringed. “He still
loves you, Kenji.”

“
Love me?” Kenji snorted.
“He doesn’t even like me. I’ve said more to you in this
conversation than I have to my dad in the last twelve
months.”

“
I know it’s hard,
but—”

“
Hard? I never see my dad.
How much worse does it get?”

Deena smiled ruefully. “Have
I—have I ever told you about my father?”

He shook his head. “Is he
like my dad? Always busy?”

Deena smiled. “No,
sweetheart. He’s dead. And my mother killed him.”

Kenji frowned. “Well, what
did he do?”

“
Do?” Deena echoed, the
word tasting foul in her mouth.

“
Yeah,” Kenji said. “People
don’t just…kill people, right? So, what did he do?”

Deena swallowed. It was an
obvious question, but one never posed to her, never asked as far as
she’d known.

She sat back, eyes blurring
momentarily.

“
I’m going to bed, Kenji.
Good night.”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE

Florida in June kicked
rocks. The air was too thick, the sun too bright and the
temperature like hell on repeat. Still, it was the only place Tak
had ever called home, and he suspected it would always
be.

Their seats were good
ones—middle of the pack and down center. Deena was wearing his
favorite UCLA cap, thread bare and pulled low, alongside a pair of
jeans and a baby tee. She tugged on the shirt constantly, as if
still getting acclimated to the new and relaxed wardrobe, and the
outfit that bore a tad of her midriff.

Tak brought a hand to the
cap he wore and tried to bend the brim. New and ill fitting, he’d
ordered it online with the realization that his trusty stand-by was
gone for good. Both caps were white with gold letters trimmed in
purple, but his—or rather Deena’s now, was broken-in just right,
while the other saluted like a soldier.

Eyes on the field in search
of his kid brother, Tak thought back to a conversation with Deena a
few nights ago. In it, she told him that after her father had been
killed, she and her siblings spent ten days in foster care. Ten
days. He just couldn’t fathom why. True her family was poor, but
lots of people were poor. The Tanakas, none of which who’d fared as
well as his father, would’ve mobbed the place in an instant. They
would’ve fought like hell,—uncle Yoshi, the used car salesman,
would’ve argued that as second oldest he was entitled to the kids,
while aunt Asami would’ve pointed out that she had more money. In
the end though, his grandmother would’ve won.

Tak wondered about Deena’s
mother and her family. Her mother had been born and raised in
Miami; it stood to reason that someone from the family was near.
Didn’t Deena want to know them?

He glanced at her
cautiously.

“
What do you know about
your mother’s family?” Tak asked.

Deena turned from the warm
up on the field and frowned. “My mother’s family? Why?”

He shrugged. “Just curious,
I guess.”

“
Not much. A few names. And
that I have no need for them.”

She turned back to the
field.

“
No need? Why?”

“
Well,” Deena said. “I’ve
never met them, not one of them, not even when my mother was
around.”

“
But there could be a
million reasons for that. Maybe they don’t even know about you. Or
maybe—”

“
It’s a great day for a
game, isn’t it?”

She tugged on the brim of
his cap and shouted ‘go Kenji,’ to which he scanned the stands,
spotted them and waved vehemently. Though silenced, Tak’s mind
continued to race. He just couldn’t shake it.

“
Day Two in foster care,
Miss Measley, our caseworker, comes in and tells me that Jeff and
Laura Wright, my mother’s parents, would be there to pick us up
that afternoon,” Deena finally said, eyes still on the
field.

“
And?” Tak said quietly,
almost afraid to go on.

Deena glanced at him. “And,
I’m still waiting.”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX

On her way home from school,
Lizzie rounded the corner just as the first raindrops fell. She
used a hand to shield her face. The rain in Miami was unpredictably
violent, and she knew that she’d never make the three blocks home
before it caught her full force. Thunder clapped and lightening
flashed. Lizzie jumped, then double-timed her efforts. Another
clap, and all at once, rain fell in gusty torrential bursts.
Everything around Lizzie turned gray and cold.

Next to her, a white Monte
Carlo pulled over, barely visible in the storm.

“
Hurry up. Get
in.”

It was Snow Man. He threw
open the door and Lizzie jumped in, dripping onto his
seat.

He stared at her.

“
You look good wet. Sexy as
hell.”

“
You think so?” She looked
down at herself.

Snow laughed. “You fucking
kidding me? I get a hard-on every time I see you, anyway. You and
that sister of yours.”

Grinning, he placed a hand
on Lizzie’s leg. “But you the only one know how to use what you
got.”

Slowly, he began to knead
her thigh, working inward in tight circular motion. She said
nothing, used to the way men touched her. They couldn’t help
themselves. She knew that. Lizzie glanced at the windows, now
fogged as rain blasted the car.

“
Let’s get in the backseat
for a second. My defroster isn’t working, so we’ll have to wait
this out.”

Lizzie hesitated. He’d
fucked her before, even since she’d lost her virginity. He had this
way of nudging himself in regardless. Slipping over to Lizzie’s
place when his kids were there to visit, only to corner her in the
bathroom and pin her to a wall; offering to run to the store when
Grandma Emma needed milk or juice and asking Lizzie to ride, only
to pull over half way and pull himself out. Spying her in the rain
and offering a ride.

Lizzie climbed into the back
seat. Snow was too tall to scale over as she’d done, so he threw
open his door and dove into the back. Drenched by the rain, he
turned to Lizzie and kissed her, no questions asked. Rough
calloused hands squeezed and groped, tugging on her clothes until
she had none.

“
Come on,” he said, pulling
on his pants. “Suck my dick.” Before she could answer, he’d placed
a hand behind her head.

An hour passed. An hour she
spent swallowing him, underneath him, on her knees for
him.

Finally, when he’d spent
himself in her, he reached for his jeans and pulled his wallet out
his pocket.

“
What I owe
you?”

Lizzie hesitated. She hadn’t
been sure if she’d get paid since she hadn’t made it clear. She
would charge him the usual price. No friends and family discount
here.

“
Let’s see, twenty for the
blow and a hundred for the fuck.”

Snow Man peeked in his
wallet dramatically. “I’ve only got ten on me.”

Lizzie flared. Next time
she’d collect up front. “Give it to me,” she spat.

He handed her the crumpled
bill and watched her slide it into her jeans. “How much you made
today?” he asked

Lizzie eyed him
suspiciously. “Why?”

“
Cause I want to
know.”

She shrugged. “A hundred
fifty.”

“
And how many dudes you
fucked for that?”

She shrugged. It was none of
his business.

“
What if I told you that
you could make a lot more money doing the exact same
shit?”

Lizzie frowned. “I’m not
standing on no fucking street corner, Snow.”

He sat up straighter. “Naw,
listen. I know dudes with real money. Dudes that pay two hundred,
two-fifty for what you just did.”

“
Two hundred dollars? For
one guy?”

“
With a body like yours?
Hell yeah. You better do while you young.” He nodded to himself
approvingly. “Now what I’m thinking is that you and me can clean
up. I send ‘em your way, I get my referral fee and you get the
rest.”

“
Referral fee? How much is
that?”

“
Does it fucking matter?”
Snow hissed. “You’re not paying it, they are. What I’m saying is I
can send one guy your way that’ll pay you for what you’re getting
for a shitload of guys. So, you with it, or what?”

Lizzie laughed. She could
hardly believe her luck.

“
Hell yeah we’re in
business. Hell yeah.”

The drugs came fast. Alcohol
and weed first, X, coke and heroin later. They were what she
needed, and they made getting through the jobs easier. Snow was the
one who gave her the stuff and when his supply ran dry, Lizzie
began to look elsewhere for a high. She began to look
anywhere.