Her Singapore Fling (10 page)

The man could have simply been in the area and decided to drop in to train—nothing wrong with that. But fighters of Tup's calibre didn't usually drop by unannounced, and nor did they give no details whatsoever of their experience.

Luke and Po arrived about ten minutes into the lesson. Po joined the class. Luke nodded and stood back, arms crossed, with one eye on the door, one on the class, and his back to the wall. Jake nodded grimly and kept right on teaching. Fifteen more minutes into the session they broke for water and sweat-stained T-shirts came off. The scars, burns, and welts on Tup's sculpted torso—some of them old and some of them not—told an ugly story and confirmed Jake's suspicions. Tup was a pit dog, and the fact that Tup was still alive was testament enough to his skills.

‘We'll spar now,' he told a watchful Tup. ‘Light contact one-on-one, no mats. You'll have your chance at
everyone, including me. When your opponent hits the floor is when you stop. This is not an advanced class. You'll need to skill down.'

‘What about the boy?' said Tup.

‘He learns fast,' said Jake. ‘And he'll learn from you. Don't break him.'

It took Tup less than a minute to down his first sparring partner. His second partner hit the ground in half that time. Tup fought hard, close, and with effortless grace and speed. Tup wasn't even trying. When Po lined up against him Tup studied the boy in silence and then showed him a purely defensive line to take against a close-contact body blow. Tup walked Po through the turn-and-deflect twice, showing the boy the correct centre of balance and the way the energy flowed. The third time Po lined up to repeat the exercise Tup stepped in close and without warning aimed an iron fist straight at Po's heart.

Po moved. Not gracefully, not quite the way he'd been shown, but he deflected the blow, whirled out of range of Tup's hands and feet, and lived.

‘What do I do now?' said Po, and Tup's soulless black gaze swept the boy once more as if assessing his size, his strength and his potential.

‘Where I come from,' said Tup, ‘you run.'

‘Bit like round here,' said Jake and stepped in front of Po. ‘My turn.'

‘I have a message for you,' said Tup.

‘I thought you might.'

‘I want you to know that I won't hurt the boy or your brother over there on my way out. You keep them out of this and so will I.'

‘What's the message?' said Jake.

‘Goodbye.'

And the dance began.

Lethal blows that came so hard and fast that to think about them before reacting to them would mean death. Pure instinct drove him, saved him, as Tup stripped martial arts down to its purest form and sharpened it with his intention. Intent to kill.

There was no rage. No hesitation on Tup's part as he continued his assault. Just a constant testing of Jake's defences, which held together, just. They wouldn't hold together for long. If he didn't attack soon, he'd lose. If he didn't commit to this fight completely he would die, might still die whether he committed himself or not.

Because another man wanted his wife and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Deep down inside—in the darkest corners of Jake's soul—a beast roared to life and broke free of its cage and with it came cunning and patience and stealth. And rage. Such a cold, controlled rage seeped into Jake and filled him completely—no room left at all for mercy or reason.

Luke said afterwards that the fighting had only continued for a few minutes after that. That he and Tup had both landed blows before Jake had crashed through his opponent's defences. Jake remembered taking Tup to the floor. He remembered his knee between Tup's shoulder blade and his arm around Tup's neck and he remembered that he knew how this next move went, the one that would end a man's life. He remembered Luke's pleading voice, and Po dragging at his wrists and yelling at him in rapid high-pitched Mandarin. He remembered Tup slumping to the floor as he finally let him go.

Not dead.

Nearly dead would have to do.

Jake had leaned down after that, with Luke holding fast to one of his arms and Po clutching the other. ‘I'll patch you up,' he'd told Tup. ‘I'll let you walk out of here. And you can tell the killer who sent you that I'm not going anywhere and neither's my wife.'

He'd kept his word.

He'd phoned Ji and told her to stay at work and not to go anywhere without her uncle or her cousins or preferably all three. He told Po not to go anywhere without Luke at his side.

Then he passed out.

W
HEN
Jake came to he was lying on a bed in one of the dojo's back bedrooms and a slim dark-haired man was pressing down on his pelvis. He shot upright and reached out to knock the man's hand away only to be blocked by another hand that had wrapped around his forearm.

‘Easy,' murmured Luke. ‘The doc's just checking you out.'

Jake eased back down gradually, due in no small thanks to the skull-splitting pain he seemed to have acquired. ‘Where's Jianne?'

‘Here.'

Jake winced, and it wasn't from pain. ‘Why isn't she with her uncle or her cousins? Or Maddy?'

‘She is.'

Jake had to think about that for a moment. His brain didn't seem to be functioning very well at all. ‘So…they're all here?'

Luke nodded absently; his concentration was all for what the doctor was doing. ‘They're christening the living room. Nice couch, by the way. Where'd you get it?'

‘Ask Ji.' He tried to lift his hand to his head, started to raise his elbow, and groaned as pain threatened to overtake him.

‘Dislocated shoulder,' said Luke. ‘The doc put it back in while you were out.'

That would explain the nausea. ‘Anything else I should know about?'

‘Not so far,' said the doctor dryly. ‘Fortunately, you still appear to have a functioning spleen.'

Luke hovered as the doctor continued checking Jake over. Eventually the doctor pronounced no lasting damage done, wrote out a prescription for some heavy-duty painkillers, and left.

Jake swung his feet over the side of the bed and elbowed up to a sitting position. No lasting damage done, no reason why he shouldn't be on his feet.

‘A caring brother might suggest that you lay your sorry behind back down on the bed and stay there,' said Luke.

Jake just looked at him.

‘Never mind,' said Luke, and, hooking an arm under Jake's good shoulder, helped him to his feet. By the time they reached the door Jake was swaying all by himself. Together they walked up the hallway and into the new kitchen and living area. Silence greeted him, bone deep and daunting. Jianne's relatives looked grim. Po had that hard, angry look about him that no child should ever wear. Jianne had her arms clasped tightly around her waist and looked to be on the verge of tears.

‘Couldn't you have cleaned him up a little first?' Madeline asked Luke.

‘I did,' muttered Luke. ‘Can someone get this prescription filled?'

‘I'll do it,' said Po.

‘No,' rasped Jake. The free range kid would have to get used to staying a little closer to home for a while. ‘Not you.'

One of Jianne's cousins took the script and headed out.

‘C-can I get you anything,' said Jianne. ‘A drink?'

‘No.'

‘I'm so sorry,' she whispered. ‘This is all my fault.'

‘No.' Shaking his head seemed like such a bad idea. ‘It's not.'

He wanted her closer. He needed her touch, but here in this room full of people who watched his every move it didn't seem right to telegraph such need.

So he sat down at the table instead and he drank the foul concoction Madeline's housekeeper had sent over for him, and he suffered Madeline and Jianne making plans to feed everyone here at the dojo, and when Jianne's cousin came back and the pills kicked in he almost managed to relax. Bruce Yi went home. Madeline and Luke stayed on and so did Jianne's cousins. Apparently, they all intended to stay the night.

The idea that his row of shabby student bedrooms would tonight house an assortment of Singapore's finest made him laugh. ‘Billionaire row,' he muttered to his brother, and laughed again.

‘And no Scotch for you,' murmured Luke in reply.

He appreciated the show of support, the way they rallied around Jianne and carried on as if all were well and everything were normal, as normal as everything could be after a fight that had almost ended in death. This wasn't over—this thing with Zhi Fu—and everyone
knew it. It was just getting started and plans would have to be made for increased protection for Jianne and for Po, and for himself.

Fighting ghosts again. A dangerous, unpredictable ghost who thought nothing of arranging the taking of a life or of pursuing a woman he wanted against her will. How did a man fight that? How did a man fight such intention without risking everything?

He thought he knew the answer but it wasn't one he liked.

But by nine that evening all Jacob wanted was a bed to collapse into. He'd have crawled off to the nearest downstairs cot hours ago but for the small matter of not being quite sure that he could stand up on his own. The idea of showing such weakness in front of these people disturbed him, but eventually Luke went off to lock down the front entrance doors for the night, and Jianne's cousins took themselves off to Jake's office to use the computer and make some calls. Jianne and Madeline were in the back rooms somewhere, making some last-minute changes to the sleeping arrangements.

He stared at Po. Po stared back in wary silence. What the hell kind of role model had he been for the boy today? Letting Po stand before Tup. Leaving him there when he
knew
there was risk and that Tup had an unknown agenda. If the kid hadn't had lightning-fast reflexes honed by his life on the streets he'd be dead.

‘I'm sorry, Po,' he muttered finally. ‘I failed you.'

‘No,' said the boy, edging closer. ‘You beat him.'

‘He played me.' Jake got to his feet, using the back of the chair and the table for balance. ‘I lost control.'

‘Sometimes,' said the small boy with the fathomless black eyes, ‘you have to.'

But a man didn't have to like it. Jake's eyes stung as he turned away and started for the door. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and thought that if he were alone he could slump down and sit a while, and crawl up those blasted stairs as the notion took him. Shoulder to the wall, he counted the damn things: twenty-eight in all. Maybe he could do it in stages.

He managed two before blackness threatened to engulf him.

And then a small and wiry arm wrapped around his waist and tried to take some of his weight. ‘Sensei,' said a voice. ‘Lean on me.'

‘Thanks.' They managed two more steps before the stairs began to tilt alarmingly, but then a porcelain princess slipped in beneath his other arm and together she and Po kept him upright.

‘Idiot,' she muttered.

‘Thank you,' he said again, and together they made it up the stairs.

 

The blinds were closed tonight and there would be no opening them, thought Jianne grimly as she and Po deposited Jacob on the bed and with a troubled glance Po headed back downstairs. Jianne stayed, hovering uncertainly. Waiting for her cue from Jacob and wondering if—like Po—she shouldn't have just taken herself off and let him rest. Luke had told her a little of what had happened. That Zhi Fu had sent a fighter to the dojo and that he and Jake had fought and that Jake had won and the other man had left.

If Jake had beaten him and could hardly walk for having done so, Jianne
really
didn't want to think too hard about the health of his opponent.

‘Can I get you anything?' she asked tentatively. Others had asked that question downstairs and the reply had never varied. No. Jacob Bennett didn't ask favours of anyone. Not even when he needed them.

‘Can we try for a shower?' he said with a weary smile and surprised Jianne into silence. ‘I'd like to get clean.'

So she helped him undress and she stripped down to her panties and a cotton singlet and she stayed within arm's length while Jacob got clean. She looked at the water sluicing down over his spectacular face and body and tallied every mark and bruise and there were a lot of them.

She'd seen bruises on Jacob's body before but nothing like this. So many of them this time, in all the wrong places. ‘What did he want, this fighter?'

‘Me,' said Jacob with his eyes closed and his face to the spray. ‘Dead.'

Dread swept through her, a sick sinking feeling as she realised just how close Jacob had come to losing his life. Because of her. ‘Luke said you let him go,' she said. ‘If he came here to kill you why on earth did you let him
go
?'

‘Because I'm not dead and I could never have proven his intent,' Jacob muttered.

‘But you might have been able to prove his connection to Zhi Fu!'

‘He was a professional assassin, Jianne. I don't think they do much talking.'

‘So you just let him
go
? What if he comes back and tries to kill you again? And brings friends?'

‘He won't.'

‘Why won't he?'

‘Because I let him live,' said Jacob, and the tremor in his voice cut at her soul. ‘Be thankful Luke and Po were there and that they stopped me from ending him. I am.'

‘I'm thankful for a lot of things,' she said as she stepped in and cut the water and gently began to pat his battered body down with a towel. He didn't protest, just stared at her with desolate, pain filled eyes. ‘I'm sorry I brought my problems down on you. I'm so sorry for what this fight has cost you, body and soul. But I'm thankful for everything that makes you what you are. For your integrity, and your honour, and your strength that you so often put at other people's disposal. If Zhi Fu needs a reason as to why I could never love him, he need only look to you.'

‘I almost killed a man today.'

And it was playing on his mind. ‘But you didn't.'

‘I wanted to. I was going to. I was crazy enough to.'

‘But you didn't.'

‘Because Luke and Po stopped me.'

‘And who made sure that Luke and Po would be there in the first place?' she queried gently. ‘Guarding your back. Keeping you safe, as you've kept them safe so many times before.'

He had no answer for that.

She got him dry and into bed, and his gaze didn't leave hers as she touched the bruises on his face with trembling fingers. ‘I should let you get some rest.'

‘Where will you be?' he said gruffly.

‘In the chair for a while,' she said. ‘Trying to read and watching you instead. Is that okay?'

‘Yeah.'

She settled down and reached for a book. Any book would do. She tucked her legs up beneath her.

‘Where will you sleep?' he asked.

‘Next to you.'

‘When?'

‘Soon.' Just as soon as he'd fallen asleep. ‘I want you to get comfortable first without me bumping all your bruises. Once you're asleep I can work in around you.'

‘Ji?' He closed his eyes, shading them from her view. ‘Can you come now?'

Not a declaration of love for he didn't love lightly, but a declaration of need from Jacob Bennett was wonder enough.

She took her hair down while he watched her through half-closed eyes and then she slid in beside him, half sitting, half lying, with one hand propping up her neck and the other resting lightly on his arm. ‘Better?' she whispered and a smile touched his lips.

‘Yes.'

She touched her lips to the bruise on his shoulder. ‘How about now?'

‘There's more.' His eyes had closed but the faintest of smiles remained.

‘I know. I've seen them.' He had one high on his pectoral muscle. She kissed that one too and then she leaned over and kissed his mouth and then the bruise on his cheek, pushing her hair to one side so that it shadowed them like a curtain.

‘Stay with me,' he whispered.

‘I will.'

She stayed. And Jacob slept.

 

‘For heaven's sake, will you please
stop
babysitting me?' Jake told his brother three days later. ‘You're driving me insane!' The cousins had left but not before a state-of-the-art security system had been installed. Madeline had left after stocking the kitchen with food enough to withstand a lengthy siege. Luke had stayed to keep an eye on Po, and Jake appreciated his brother's help in that regard, he really did. But the way Luke and Po monitored his every move had a used-by date of yesterday and needed to stop. It needed to stop
now
. ‘And should you be showing him that?' he asked Luke sceptically. ‘Because I'm really not sure it's something Po needs to know.'

Luke and Po were in the process of
improving
the recently installed security system. From what Jake could see, this meant taking it apart, figuring out how it worked, and putting it back together only this time with booby traps for the unwary.

‘Why not?' said Luke. ‘I'm bored. He's bored. Might come in handy one day.'

‘When? During Po's career as a master thief?'

‘It'd definitely come in handy then,' said Luke. ‘Except that Po's not going to be a master thief. He's going to be a martial arts expert and a lawyer. Aren't you, Po?'

‘Yep,' said the boy, his attention not wavering from the tiny wire he was soldering into place for reasons known only to him and Luke.

Nice to see someone so focused.

‘You know what you need?' said Luke. ‘A little bit of relaxation and meditation.'

‘Bite me.' What he
needed
was for Luke to get called out of the country on a job, the rest of his siblings to
stop phoning him nightly, and for Jianne to stop treating him as if he were made of glass and might break at any moment. ‘I'll be in the training hall.'

Luke looked up at him with narrowed eyes. ‘The doctor said to lay off the training for at least three weeks. It's been three days.'

‘Yeah, well, if I don't train I go mad.'

‘Noted,' said Luke. ‘But let me put it this way. If you do start training, I'm calling Ji, and she'll come home early and stare at you with that very weird mixture of adoration and guilt she's got going on and that will fry your brain even more.'