43. Isolate

Even though he wrapped his hands properly, Kai’s knuckles are bleeding. The sting of broken skin flares every time his fists connect with the bag, but it’s nothing compared to the knot of guilt still flaring in his chest. Kai’s skin feels clammy. The slide of sweat makes him shiver. The bag sways with his ragged breathing. He is aware of trainers and other fighters around him, but no one asks why he’s come alone, or why he’s attacking the bag, or why his face is pale and his eyes are red-rimmed.
In the gym, there are no questions, just the grounding reality of training. Kai needs to feel grounded. He needs to stop shaking. He needs to punch harder, faster, with more precision. All that exists is the bag—solid, unyielding, controlled.
After Pepper picked him up at the hospital, she’d taken him to her place. She hadn’t asked him questions or tried to make him feel better, which was fine because Kai hadn’t wanted either of those things. He lay awake in the front room, watching the shadows turn into the furniture, then at sunrise asked Pepper to drive him to the gym and leave him there. She’d done just as he asked.
Each jab, hook and uppercut Kai throws is harder and faster than the last, as though he can pummel his feelings into submission. Snatches of his conversations with Jet echo through Kai’s churning brain, tangling together, hitting him harder than any strike.
“Why didn’t you tell me?...Things got complicated… you kept secrets long enough to call off our deal…Call me ‘Hia’.”
Kai changes his stance, adding kicks. The impact against the bag reverberates up his leg.
“The Shark gave me your message…Don’t want to see you...Get away from me.”
He readjusts so he can throw in a higher one. It’s not enough to block out Jet’s white face outside the dorm, and the blood—all that blood pouring out onto the grass around them. The stench clings to Kai’s nostrils. Maybe it’s his own.
“Call me ‘Hia’.”
Kai changes his stance again, alternating between punches and kicks. His thighs burn, his shins sting, his hands scream for mercy, but he doesn’t stop. He remembers what Talay told him—about Muay Thai being about discipline, focus and control. Right now, he’s disciplined. Physical pain is something he can focus on, something he can control.
Right now, Kai craves control.
“I thought you’d hate me.”
His breathing is erratic. There’s a vice strapped around his lungs.
“You’re right…Get away from me.”
Something streams down the side of his face—sweat or tears or both. Jab, kick, hook, kick.
“Call me ‘Hia’.”
Kick, kick, kick.
“Get away from me.”
Jab, kick, hook, kick. Harder, faster. Uppercut, kick. Jet’s face, his voice, his blood—all crashing down around him. Kai can’t stop. He won’t.
“Call me ‘Hia’…get away…Call me ‘Hia’… get away…”
Harder. Kick, uppercut, kick.
“Get away…get away…get away…”
Faster. Kick, kick, kick.
“Hia…Hia…Hia…”
Kai loses his balance. Grabbing the bag is the only thing keeping him from toppling onto the mat. His legs are numb, shins pink and scraped raw. The wrapping on his throbbing hands has a spreading red mark above each of his knuckles.
Spreading…like Jet’s blood...
The surface of the bag is cool against his forehead, but doesn’t do much to soothe the heat building inside the rest of his body. The smell of leather blocks out the tang of liniment oil, easing the nausea twisting his stomach—a reminder that he’s in the gym, not that empty, sterile hospital hallway.
Jet…Hia…can you wake up please? Kai’s not sure if the leather is wet from sweat or tears. He doesn’t care. Please?
“Kai.” The voice is low, but Kai can hear it clearly over his pounding pulse. He opens his eyes. Bel stands in front of him. “You need to stop.”
“I’m good.” Kai gasps. He tightens his grip on the bag as the mat lunges up from the floor, barely managing to stay on his feet.
“You’re not.” Bel’s voice is sympathetic, rather than accusing. “Let go of the bag.”
“I just…I just need—” Kai doesn’t even know what he needs anymore. His body has become a lead weight, head throbbing in tandem with his hands.
“You need a break.” Bel finishes for him. “Pepper told me where you were. I’m not going to ask if you’re ok—”
“Thank you.” Kai’s voice is rough. He’s getting really damn sick of that question. Someone must have turned the AC off. He’s suffocating.
“I am going to ask if you want to come stay with Kam and me for a bit.” Bel continues. “Our house is closer to the hospital, so you can see Jet every day if you want.”
If he’ll see me. Kai remains leaning against the bag, digging his fingers into its leather surface. Green and yellow spots dance across his vision. He’s not about to look pathetic by faceplanting in front of everyone.
Bel moves forward. “You don’t look like you’ve slept.”
“Haven’t.” Kai mutters. The pressure in his chest is threatening to choke him. The AC must have kicked back on, but now it’s too high, raising goosebumps on his skin.
Concern etches lines across Bel’s features. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Three. This morning. I think.” Kai frowns. The room warps. Bel isn’t staying in one place either, shrinking and then growing, then shrinking again. The bag swings back and forth, almost knocking Kai over. His legs feel like they’re sinking into the mat. His vision tunnels, making the room feel smaller by the second.
“You need a shower, food and sleep.” Bel insists, pulling Kai gently away from the bag. “Kam and I can give you all that, if you want it.”
“Yeah.” The heat radiating from Kai’s skin makes the air around him shimmer. His entire body feels disconnected, shaking so hard his teeth chatter. The sensation alternates between sweating and shivering. It’s beyond disorienting.
“Kai?” Bel’s hands feel icy against Kai’s face. “You’re on fire. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Ok.” Kai leans against Bel. Purple and red streaks join the yellow and green dots in front of his eyes, filling his vision.
His grip falters. Sounds merge into a dizzying whirl. The ground jolts underneath him, aggravating his screaming muscles. The heat inside him spikes. He’s lifted, drenched, and then dry, and then soaking wet again.
Bel’s voice, muffled and faint. Then another one that’s less familiar—a voice that tells him to drink, then swallow. Liquid moistens the inside of Kai’s throat. A small, gritty object catches against his windpipe before he forces it down. More liquid follows, and it’s easier to breathe.
Kai drifts through waves of fragmented sensation. Perspiration clings to him like a clammy veil. A creeping iciness washes over his skin, then a burning intensity that seems to boil his blood. Black spots and streaks of color dance behind his eyelids.
Bel’s voice again, telling him to drink. Another small object on his tongue. It’s easier to swallow this time. Has it been minutes? Hours? Days?
A soft cocoon. An unfamiliar, distant scent—soothing, like the hands on his body, wrapping his own hands and his shins so the throbbing eases. Another tingling coolness against his forehead. Then another. Voices above him again, saying his name, telling him to drink, then swallow. Drink, then swallow. The aches inside him recede.
The world is a gray smudge, and he’s floating in formless, numbing void…
Kai’s eyes flutter open. The softness stays beneath him, as does that strange, reassuring scent. This room is unfamiliar. A lot less high-end than the condo bedroom he’d woken up in after Nail kicked his ass a month ago. Less staged and more domestic.
His shins still sting and his hands throb, but he’s in clean clothes. His stomach no longer roils—it’s been hollowed out. For all that drinking he’s been instructed to do, someone has still scraped his throat raw and dried out his tongue. Maybe he swallowed too much dust.
“Morning.” Bel is standing in the doorway, a steaming mug in one hand. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Thanks.” Kai’s voice is little more than a croak. He blinks, levering himself into a sitting position. “What time is it?”
“Ten a.m. On Wednesday.” Bel informs him, not unkindly.
Kai stares. “Wednesday?”
“I found you at the gym Monday. You slept all yesterday and most of the day before. So that would make today Wednesday.” Bel elaborates. “You were practically catatonic. Kam and I had to help you shower and change. By the time we got you into bed, your temperature spiked. Used a hell of a lot of fever patches and had to force-feed you antipyretics to bring it down. We almost took you to the hospital.”
“I’m sorry.” Kai swallows, the reality of his previous condition sinking in.
“Why?” There’s no reprimand in Bel’s expression. “You can worry about your brother. Just don’t kill yourself doing it.”
“Jet.” Kai swings his legs over the side of the bed. The room sways, and he grabs onto the edge of the mattress for balance, breath hissing through his teeth. His shins have begun to scab over, but the knuckles are still a raw, half-healed mess. “Is he—”
“Jet’s fine.” Bel reassures him. “He just hasn’t woken up yet. You need food, and you need to stay hydrated. The last thing he’s going to want is you in the next hospital bed. So just take it easy, ok?”
Kai looks up at him. “I want to get up.”
“I know.” Bel sits on the bed next to him, holding out the mug. “Have a sip of this first.”
Kai stares down into the brown liquid. “What is it?”
“Crio Bru.” Bel smiles. “Kit calls it fake coffee. Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”
Kai hesitates, then takes a sip. It’s less bitter than coffee, and reminds him a little bit of dark chocolate, but with a slightly earthy aftertaste that’s a balm to his raw throat.
“Good, right?” Bel’s smile widens. “I don’t understand why Kit hates it so much.”
“That’s why you dared him to drink it at the party?” Kai returns Bel’s smile in spite of himself. Bel is the type of guy who makes people feel better just by being around him.
Bel nods, his smile widening. “Kam and I are going to make him drink it until he likes it, which will probably not be any time soon. Same with the durian. Em calls that Reverse Aversion Therapy, but I call it Teasing My Brother-In-Law Until He Screams For Mercy. I bet you’re starving. Want to eat?”
Kai’s stomach answers the question for him, loud enough for both of them to hear. He follows Bel into the kitchen, taking another sip of the Crio Bru. The table is set for three. Two more steaming mugs sit next to two of the plates, which, judging from the smell, are also full of Crio Bru. In the center of the table is a large plate of eggs, bacon, and for some reason—
“Chilies and cayenne pepper?” Kai furrows his brow as he glances at Bel.
Bel’s nod is enthusiastic. “Gives the eggs a nice kick. I don’t mix them in cause Kam says it’ll destroy his taste buds.”
Kai chuckles, piling eggs and bacon on his plate. “Did you two really meet because of a motorcycle hit and run?”
“Yep.” Bel grins at him. “My sister paid him to be my bodyguard, too. She used her contacts at the CIA to find that surveillance report about your parents.”
“CIA?” Kai blinks at him, then latches onto the second part of the sentence. “There’s more than one surveillance report?”
“I guess so.” Bel shrugs, the look on his face warning Kai against asking any more questions. “That’s usually how things like that work.”
Kai lowers himself into one of the chairs. All he did was walk from the bedroom, but it’s a relief to sit. “You’re investigating Chalam and OmniVentures, too?”
“Sort of. My sister works for the CIA, so Kit asked me to reach out and see if she could find any information that Kit and Jet—and presumably you—couldn’t access.” Bel explains, crossing to the sink. “We Manirats like sticking our noses in each other’s business.”
“Yeah.” Kai agrees. “I noticed that.”
Bel smiles, sliding two full glasses of water across the table. “Works out fine most of the time. Drink all of that and the Crio Bru. Then eat, so you don’t fall over. Kam went to get some cream cause we ran out yesterday, but he’ll be back soon. He’ll kill me if I haven’t fed you something. Just take it slow.”
Kai drinks slowly enough, but devours the food. He even sprinkles some cayenne pepper on his second helping of eggs, just to make it more interesting. The unexpected zing of flavor sends energy into his bloodstream.
“Thanks.” Kai’s voice is less rough than it was before. “I didn’t know how much I needed that.”
“No problem.” Bel watches as Kai piles even more food onto his plate. “Kam cooked it, but I’m claiming credit for making you eat.”
“So you’re up.” The voice and the opening and closing of the door signal Kam’s return. Kai looks up from his plate. Bel’s boyfriend stands in the doorway, with a carton of cream in his hand. Luca stands next to him. “Bel made you try his cayenne eggs?”
“Actually,” Bel answers before Kai can. “He tried them on his own.”
Kai chuckles, taking another bite. “I like the kick.”
“I’ll stick to bland food, thanks.” Kam pours cream into his Crio Bru mug.
“You’re ruining the taste.” Bel looks offended on the drink’s behalf.
“I could say the same thing about your eggs.” Kam tilts his head at Luca, who has remained in the doorway. “Look who I ran into.”
Bel gives Luca a curious look. “Didn’t think you were the type to do social visits.”
“This isn’t social.” Luca rolls his eyes. “Just killing time before work.”
“Killing time or stalking?” Kam smirks, putting the cream in the fridge. “Plenty of other places you could kill seven hours.”
“None as interesting as this place.” Luca gives Kai the once over. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine.” Kai is on his second glass of water. “Just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”
He shrugs, wincing as his shoulder muscles protest the movement.
“Is that what this is?” Luca chuckles, dropping two square pieces of plastic on the table. “I’ve got something for you. I’d give them to Jet, but we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”
“And yet you’ve been to the hospital every day.” Bel points out.
Luca ignores him, keeping his eyes on Kai. “Apparently, these are two you missed.”
Kai’s eyes narrow. “Where did you get them?”
“I know somebody.” Luca winks at him.
Kam returns to the table, loading eggs onto his plate. His gaze falls on the SD cards. “Oh goody. New puzzle pieces.”
Bel glares at him without any heat. “You can leave.”
“I just got here.” Kam retorts, taking a sip from his mug. “Besides, I would never miss out on playing detective again.”
“Uh-huh.” Bel rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. “Either say something helpful or say nothing at all.”
“Why don’t you stick one in the laptop and see if there’s a puzzle piece you can isolate to solve your problem?” Kam’s suggestion has a sarcastic note in it. Bel flips him the bird. Kam flips it back.
“Helpful.” Kai matches Kam's sarcasm. “You two sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Only once.” Kam confirms. “It almost got us killed.”
Bel nods. Kai glances between them, noticing for the first time that not only do they have matching tattoos, but also deep, matching scars above their brows. He makes a mental note to ask how they got them sometime.
“Not the same situation you’re currently in.” Bel has followed Kai’s gaze, and rubs his forefinger over his scar. “But something similar.”
“That’s a story I’d like to hear sometime.” Luca remarks, voicing Kai’s own thoughts.
“We might tell you sometime, but not now.” Kam holds out a hand to Kai. “Card. Doesn’t matter which one.”
Kai drops both SD cards into Kam’s palm. The other three gather around him as he inserts one into his laptop. A video file pops up, playing automatically. The footage is in high definition, the timestamp only a few months ago. Kai leans forward. Chalam’s office is bright with afternoon sunshine. There’s no sound on the video, but Kai can tell from Chalam’s posture and movements that the shark is angry.
One of Chalam’s hands is wrapped around the neck of the only other occupant of the office, pressing his victim’s head into the top of the office desk. With a jerk of his arm, Chalam yanks the other man upright, then sends him to the ground with an almost casual backhand. The other man doesn’t retaliate, just pushes himself onto all fours in an attempt to get back on his feet. Chalam doesn’t give him the chance. He slams his foot into the other man’s ribs, flipping him onto his back. Kai sucks in a breath when the man’s face is caught by the camera. The person Chalam is turning into human pulp is—
“Nail.” Kai’s voice is little more than a whisper, raw with shock.
“The consequences of disappointing a shark.” Luca confirms. “Chalam believes bruises and scar will help you remember—even uses this method on his most trusted colleagues.”
Kai looks up at him. “How do you know?”
“Employees talk.” The look in Luca’s eyes is a warning not to ask any more questions.
Kam pulls the SD card out of his laptop. “Do we even want to look at the other one?”
“We have to.” Kai nods. “It could be important.”
Bel exchanges a look with Kam. “Let’s brace ourselves, then.”
Kam nods, sliding the second SE card into his laptop There are two files this time, both video footage. The timestamp on one is from seventeen years also, the other from ten.
When Kam presses play, the screen goes temporarily black. The footage is slightly grainy, but that could be due to the dim lighting. It’s a room Kai has never seen before, so it’s unlikely to be anywhere in the OmniVentures building. He doesn’t recognize the man with his back to the camera, but the one seated behind the desk is all too familiar.
They watch the video, and Kai’s face loses all its color, his breath coming in ragged, shallow bursts. Without a word, Kam presses play on the second video. Kai’s nails dig into his palms, the skin on his knuckles splitting open again. Blood wells up from the fresh wounds, running down the backs of his hands in dark, accusing lines.