Loving Jiro (4 page)

Kiara sat down and quickly served May a slice of cake. “Nothing. I just wanted to give May this cake while it was still warm. It's best straight from the oven."

He frowned. “Whatever."

Otis came around the back of the couch and sat down in the love seat. His erection was so obvious, even his mother noticed. Odell surged up from the chair, knocking over the coffee table and the plate.

May shouted, “Now look what you've done, Odell. Clean this mess up. You've ruined the cake."

"Sorry, Ma.” He grabbed Kiara's hand and dragged her up from her seat. “Let rich boy over there do it. He ain't got nothing to do with himself since he doesn't have a girl.
I
do.” His meaning was clear. “Let's go, Kiara!"

At the door, May stopped him. “Now you wait right there, Odell. Let me say goodbye to May properly.” May shuffled toward them. “Come here and give me a hug, Kiara."

She glanced at Odell, and he nodded tight-lipped. In a fog, knowing what note her night would end on, she moved to hug May some feet away. Over May's shoulder, she saw worry on Otis’ face but ignored it. “Night, May."

May squeezed her. “Leave him, baby,” she whispered in Kiara's ear. She pushed something in Kiara's pocket. “Take this and leave him. I know he's my son and I love him, but I'm scared that...” She didn't finish. The elderly woman sniffed, stiffened her back and patted Kiara's shoulder. “Okay, y'all come back and see me real soon."

"Yes, ma'am,” was Kiara's wooden response. She joined Odell at the door. He pinched the back of her neck and guided her outside.

All the way home, he grumbled under his breath. His nostrils flared as he blew out his frustration. Yet, his anger mounted with each step. Eight blocks seemed like eight steps, and she desperately wished it was longer. She found herself looking around them at the cracked streets, the marble steps they passed, darkened alleys, wishing someone would jump out and mug them. If only someone would just distract him like what had happened Friday when whoever had been at the door helped to calm his anger.

No such luck. She stepped behind him into the darkened apartment, and like a magician, she spirited away the money May had pressed into her pocket. As yet, Odell had not discovered her hiding place. No doubt May had given him something to shut him up. She could only wish it was enough for him to go find a bar and leave her be.

Instead, when she hung the keys on a hook and slipped out of her shoes, without him turning on a single light, his fist found its mark. She screamed and hit the floor. He followed her down, punching over and over.

"Please, Odell,” she begged. “I'm sorry."

"Whore,” he accused. “What were you doing in there, Kiara? Rubbing his dick to get him worked up?"

"No, I wouldn't do that."

"Fucking liar!” He smacked her again. “You forget the last time?” He banged her head on the floor and tore open her blouse. “You want dick, Kiara? I've got some for you.” He pinched her nipples and smacked at her breasts over and over. She cried and pleaded. Her denial meant nothing to him.

He straddled her chest, resting his rear so heavily she could barely breathe. She heard his zipper descend and the rustle of his clothing. The next thing she knew, he shoved his shaft into her mouth and pushed deep.

"Suck it!"

Snot coating her top lip and tears wetting her hair, she obeyed. Twice, she fainted because she couldn't get enough air, but he kept pushing. He smacked her face until she came around, and then he shoved in again. Only after he had emptied himself inside her mouth did he stop.

Kiara coughed and sputtered. Odell stood up, walked over her and headed into the bedroom. A few seconds later, she heard the creak of the bed. Before she could find the strength to rise, he was storing.

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Kiara unrolled the bag in her lap and withdrew the new tube of umber paint. She arranged it carefully on her rough wooden desk and straightened the rest of her supplies already there. When she saw movement in her peripheral vision, she glanced up to see Jiro guiding his sister through the glass doors of the community center. With a hand that trembled only slightly, she made sure her hair was in place to hide her swollen cheek.

A welcoming smile on her lips, she rose in almost slow motion. “Good morning."

Jiro bowed. “Good morning. It's good to see you again, Kiara. I trust your weekend was good?"

"Okay, I guess. Thanks.” She turned to Ayumi. “Are you ready to get started?"

The little girl nodded vigorously. “Yes! And I have my supplies too.” She tugged at the small suitcase Jiro held. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she immediately dropped her hands to her sides and straightened. “Jiro-san, may I have my suitcase please?"

He handed it over. Kiara studied his handsome face. Did he make her afraid of him? No, she saw kindness there. But courtesy and respect were a huge part of their culture. He wanted Ayumi to learn it in a country where young people many times flouted those qualities.

His comment confirmed her thoughts. “I indulge her much more than I should.” He gently squeezed Ayumi's chin and cheeks. “She forgets herself, but I will raise her to be a proper woman.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I have a few errands to run. I will return in a couple of hours. Eiji will stay until I return.” He gestured to the man Ayumi had said was her babysitter.

The frown on Ayumi's face mirrored Kiara's disappointment that Jiro was leaving. She hid it and smiled. “Of course. We need to get started anyway. I like to keep to a schedule or my day will be shot.” She busied herself with opening paints and arranging Ayumi's easel.

Jiro's long gait carried him in a few steps to the door. He stopped and came back to lean in close to her ear. “You're hurting.” It was a statement of fact, not a question. “I can make it stop."

Her eyes grew wide in shock, but he said no more. He exited the building without looking back, and as she sat staring after him, Ayumi tugged her arm. “Ms. Jackson?"

She turned unseeing eyes to the blank canvas in front of her. “Y-Yes?"

"Will we get started now?"

Kiara shook herself, trying to focus. Had he really said what she thought she heard, and meant it? The implications ran through her mind. She knew nothing of this man. He seemed to be kindness itself, but she sensed an unseen strength in him also. He had been vague about what he did for a living, only admitting what his family's business entailed. Even that had been less than revealing. She looked down at Ayumi who sat fidgeting to get started. Picking the girl's brain for information on her brother would be low.

She sighed and returned to the task at hand. “Okay, Ayumi, first I want you to show me what you already know."

For the next two hours, they worked together. Where most of her students were tuckered out after an hour, Ayumi hung in there. Kiara sensed an artist after her own heart. The girl definitely had talent, and Kiara would help her to develop it no matter what. “It's refreshing to meet someone with your ability, Ayumi. Most of my students just like the thought of drawing and painting, not the actual work that goes into being good."

Ayumi's face flushed. “Thanks, Ms. Jackson."

Kiara hesitated. “Would your brother allow you to call me Kiara?"

Cute little slanted eyes widened. “Yes! I mean, I hope so. Ms. Kiara, how's that? It still shows respect, don't you think?"

She nodded. “Yes, and if he has any complaints, I'll talk to him about it. Now, time's almost up, so let's clean up our mess."

Ayumi obeyed and began dunking her brushes in a fresh glass of water Kiara had brought back from the bathroom not too long ago. “He likes you, you know."

"Hmm?” Kiara didn't look away from the notes she was making on Ayumi's progress and what she wanted to do with her on Thursday. “Who likes who?"

The girl gently touched her arm, and she looked up. “Jiro-san likes you. I can tell. He's had many girlfriends. He doesn't think I know, but at the family functions, they flock around him, trying to get his attention. If he gives one a nod, they will come to his room."

Kiara flinched.
That's not what I call a girlfriend. That's a whore
. She forced a smile. “I think your brother's ... ah ... love life is his business, sweetie, not mine."

Ayumi bit her bottom lip, staring down into the glass as she swirled the brush around. “I know, but I wanted you to see that you're different. You wouldn't be at a family function of course, but even if you were, he wouldn't give you a nod."

It was ridiculous that Kiara felt offended at that.

"I mean, he would treat you with more respect.” She looked up into Kiara's eyes. “Do you understand? He likes you."

"Who likes her?” Jiro had appeared from nowhere it seemed. Ayumi paled.

Kiara held up a painting Ayumi had begun of a young boy. “This guy. He likes me according to Ayumi. Do you agree?"

Jiro chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Hmm, what's not to like?"

A shiver ran over her body. She imagined if her skin weren't so brown, she might look as pale as Ayumi at his words. For a man who was so careful about what he said and did, he sure seemed easy with the compliments. She almost believed Ayumi was right, that her brother liked her.
A rich, sexy Japanese man. Yeah right.

"Thank you,” she mumbled. “I'm nothing special, just a freelance art teacher.” She stood and busied her hands cleaning up, to avoid his gaze.

He reached out to touch her arm. Shivers of delight zipped through her. “Don't say that. Never put yourself down. You are more than special, unique and beautiful.” He made as if he would tilt her chin up but put his hands behind his back. “I've never seen eyes so big and brown ... lips...” He cleared his throat and fell silent.

She spun away to put some space between them and thought she heard him gasp. Had her hair blown back from her cheek? She glanced up at him, but his face remained impassive. “I ... um, the session went well with your sister. She's very talented, and I believe she will be a great artist some day. I hope you will take her ability seriously and allow her to continue to come."

He didn't speak for a long time. She waited for the lecture, the accusation that she was weak or stupid. Her personal situation had garnered a range of reactions over the last three years she had been stuck with Odell. Whatever he had to say wouldn't be anything new. Steeling herself, she waited expectantly.

"Regret is a powerful emotion,” he said simply.

That took her off guard. “What?"

His eyebrows went up as if to say how could she not understand what he meant. “Living with regret. Very powerful. It can affect you for years, maybe the rest of your life. So it is important to weigh your actions and words, decide what you can live with and what you cannot."

Kiara blinked in confusion. She had no idea what in the world he was talking about. Of course she knew about regret. She regretted not going with her parents that time when they died and that she had yelled in anger at them, saying they thought more of each other than her. Maybe that was what Jiro meant. “Yes, regret can eat you up and make you miserable. I know that first hand."

He nodded. “Exactly. And so when I offer to help you, you must think long and hard about what you can live with."

Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. What exactly was he offering? A tremor started in her stomach and worked its way through her body. No, she was reading more into his words than she thought. Maybe he was like Otis, wanting to sleep with her, and so offering his help. She calmed down at that thought. He must be asking if he offered to help her, could she live with giving herself to him in exchange.

Anger rose inside her. Who did he think he was offering her money in exchange for sex? Is that what he thought all women did? Did he have a thing for black women? Ayumi hadn't said the women flocking around him at the family functions were black. Then again, what were they even doing at a family function?

She looked around to be sure his sister was out of earshot and placed her hands on her hips. “For your information, a lot of women may scramble to get your attention, and do anything to get your money, but
I
am not one of them. I am not going to sell you my body, so you can forget it. I didn't do it for a dentist, and I'm not doing it for a ... a ... whatever it is you really do!"

Turning away from his stunned expression, she swallowed a few choice curse words. She gathered her things, ignoring the cries of her sore muscles and marched toward the closet to lock the easels and other supplies away. Regret did wash over her that the two students scheduled for the afternoon had called to cancel. Now she would not have that money because parents didn't pay when they didn't bring their children. Never mind that she had committed the time and could have filled the spot.

Irritated, she yanked the string that turned on the light and began maneuvering her easels in a tight corner. When that was done, she examined her usual shelf where she stored her paints overnight. She had three students tomorrow, and with her body achy, she really wanted to leave her paints here. But lately, she felt someone had been going through her things. Nothing had gone missing ... yet.

With a sigh, she slipped the case on the shelf and turned to exit the closet. Jiro stood in the exit, blocking the way. He had folded his arms across his wide chest. The muscles of his arms were so big, she found herself short of breath. Not from fear though, from desire.

"For the record, I was not offering you money for your body."

"Oh.” She felt like an idiot.

She took a tentative step toward him, and he moved to the side. The bulk of his body took up most of the doorway even turned to the side. She had to squeeze by. Her hip brushed his thigh, and this time, she was certain he gasped. Hiding a smile, she continued out of the closet, hearing him follow.

"Do you have other clients today or other work?” he asked.

"No.” She should probably try to scrounge up some more work, but she didn't feel like it. A free afternoon was so rare, she decided to take advantage of it. Maybe a little brainstorming at the library might help her to come up with new ways to make money.