Page 129 of Dragon 7

“Exactly.” Deja snapped her finger twice. "Aim higher. The fat wallet shows character. Let the broke guy figure his shit out and learn how to be a proper man."

The doctor bobbed her head. “Thank you so much. This is so insightful.”

“And you’re a doctor. You can afford the exclusive health clubs and high-end restaurants. Go there with your hair down, make up on, sexy dress, and spoil yourself in front of these rich guys. They’ll be looking at you like, ‘I have to get her.’ Make them work and play with your pussy yourself the whole time until they’re worthy to get it.”

The doctor blushed. “Well. . .”

Deja snapped her fingers again. “That’s your pussy-care prescription for today.”

One nurse clapped.

Another asked her a question.

Alright, Dr. Deja.

And I just wondered if Deja understood that she would not be leaving Japan anymore. If Rin didn’t force her to stay, the women of Japan surely would.

Nika would be on the floor laughing if she saw this. Thank God Deja is with me right now. I need these funny moments.

The war pressed against my chest from the inside.

It had been pressing since Yoichi pulled me into the basement. Kenji was somewhere on the island fighting along with Reo, Hiro, the Claws, and Fangs.

Zo’s raggedy ass was still snoring in the next room. Two guards stood next to him and were told to let me know as soon as he woke up.

That damn man is really going to sleep through the whole war.

My mind went back to Kenji.

Fuck. Please. . .be okay. That sacrifice had to be enough. Right?

I turned back to the incubator.

The twins lay together on a soft white blanket inside the clear curved walls with their little eyes closed. Two tiny bodies tucked against each other like one folded shape. The smaller one had his cheek tipped toward his brother's shoulder. The other had his fingers loosely open against his brother's side.

They had on matching blue onesies the staff had brought in within the hour, and small soft caps over their heads.

Tubes ran from their noses to the small machines humming beside them.

Instead of swimming in my anxiety over the war or if Kenji and everyone were safe, I watched the twins breathe. Each rise of their chests was so small it barely moved the blanket. Each fall almost stopped my own breath.

They were so new.

So fresh from somewhere I could not name.

So unaware of what they had already lost and what they had already been given.

Their mother was dead.

Their father did not yet know they were his.

And somehow they had ended up in front of me, two perfect lives on a soft white blanket, and I had not yet figured out what to do with the love I already felt for them.

One of the twins stirred.

His small face wrinkled. His mouth opened. A thin sound began at the back of his throat, climbing toward a real cry.

Aww. Not you starting again.