My Yakuza by A.J. Llewellyn (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📕

see if Shiro was laughing, and when he found that he wasn’t, he returned his attention to the road and said nothing. But he began to muse about what it would be like to fuck this cute, little would-be assassin, long, hard and deep. Kono’s dick seemed to come to life thinking about sex with Shiro. He chastised himself silently for his physical reaction. This man was under his protection and it was an old police adage that you never mixed pleasure with business. Of course, that was one of those adages, which practically no cop ever followed. The two major things that a cop took seriously, outside of his job, were his food, and his piece of ass. Sometimes, they were the only comforts some cops had and they were important to him.

* * * *

Alia stared at the TV. The whole world was going crazy. Absolutely crazy. First these men show up, then her beloved Shiro kills a cop.

Somehow, none of it seemed real. She sighed and stood, every bone in her body aching. It had been damned hard work putting those two men in their rental car. She knew it was their car since it hadn’t moved for two days and it sat outside her house. She’d found the key in Nobuo-san’s pocket and had driven the car into her garage and slowly dragged each body into it. Boy those fellows weighed a ton. She wanted a bath and a hot cup of tea.

She’d cleaned up the house, pleased that she’d cleaned up all traces of blood. Her house was just like new.

Popping off the front and rear license plates on the rental, and left them on the front seat. She picked up her purse, patted her hair, straightened her shirt collar and got into the driver’s seat. She hadn’t had a license in ten years but it was just like riding a bicycle, everyone said so. She angled out of her driveway, smacking into a rosemary bush.

Oops.

She reversed into her street, put the car into drive and headed north. Yep, she knew it was like riding a bicycle. Shame she had to get rid of the car. She liked driving. A lot. She put on the radio and Brother Iz sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Very fitting since the dead guys stinking up the car would soon be crossing the eternal rainbow.

 The temperature dropped and she felt mist closing in on the car as she found the turn for the Old Pali Road. Rain came, a very good sign that the gods and goddesses of the islands were with her.

She reached the fork and hesitated. Did she turn right or keep going straight? She stayed at the stop sign, biting her thumbnail. The man in the car behind her honked, frightening her half to death. After the evening she’d had!

He swerved around her and went straight. Thank you, Pele. A man like that wouldn’t be taking the Old Pali Road.

She kept driving in her slow, leisurely way until the rain stopped. To her, it was the sign. She pulled over, wound down the window and said to the man in the passenger seat beside her, “Sorry.”

Alia got out of the car, left the engine running and tossed the license plates over the cliff. She stood outside the vehicle, her purse over her arm and dragged the garbage bag with the cleaning rags and the remnants of the poisoned meal and turfed them all over the cliff’s edge.

Making sure nobody drove by her, she turned the steering wheel to the right. The car seemed to groan as Keizo’s head hit the windshield. The car lurched forward, away from the soft shoulder. It tipped and teetered and finally fell with a sickening thud all the way to the bottom of the cliff, submerged by native ferns. With one more look in either direction, she took out a small hand broom and swept lightly over the tire tracks left in the sandy shoulder. She blew the sand off the broom’s bristles, putting it back in her purse.

It had all gone well. Now, it was time to go home. She wished she didn’t have to walk, but maybe when she reached the fork again, somebody would take pity on her and give an old lady a ride.

She wasn’t wrong. An old pickup stopped, the driver reaching across to roll down the passenger window.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked her, looking spooked. His eyes popped. “You…you’re not…Pele, are you?”

“What if I am? Don’t you know you’re supposed to give an old lady a ride?” she retorted.

“I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances. Get in.”

She smiled. They always wondered if an old lady on a mountain road was Pele. It was bad luck to deny her a ride. She was very tired. Very, very tired. She gave the man directions and he dropped her one street over from her house.

“Thank you,” she said, and hopped out of the truck.

He shrugged. “Maybe my luck will change.”

A raindrop plopped from the sky onto her nose. “You have bad luck?”

“The worst. My truck will get repossessed tomorrow. I thought I would take her for one last ride.”

“You behind very much?”

“What do you care?” When she didn’t respond, he said, “two months.”

“Huh.” She felt a measure of pride that she had finally taken the huge amount of cash Nobuo-san had in his wallet. She’d resisted the devil’s cash, not that she didn’t need it. She opened her purse and took out the thick wad.

The truck driver’s mouth hung open. “You can’t give me this.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I was going to drive myself off the Pali today. Me and my truck.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what stopped me. Yeah, I do know. I heard Iz on the radio. You know…when life is hard we forget to believe in rainbows.”

“Yeah.” She patted his arm.

“Thank you,” he said. “God bless you, Madame Pele.”

He waved to her and