Chapter Two

Mr. Ootori handed the file to his son, the sun flickering off the lens of his glasses, making his eyes appear soulless. Kyoya knew it was just a trick of the light; a soulless father was nonsense. "We'll first take hold of the organization that published Mitzu's How-To's and after we finish with that phone conference we'll meet with…"

Kyoya tried to pay attention, which didn't seem like much of an outward struggle from his upright position and folded hands on the table, but his eyes kept roaming over to the telephone, eagerly awaiting a call from the Ootori Private Police Force reporting if they had found Chikako. It will be one less worry, he thought, but it felt like it would be more than that. He didn't quite understand why he cared on such an emotional level about her, but he would reassure himself with a simple, She's my wife. I should care. It's nothing more complex than that. That tended to ease his mind for the time being.

"Kyoya," Mr. Ootori said, snapping his son to attention. "How would you feel if you and I took control of this company's upbringing until Chikako returns?"

The chance to work with his father was almost too tempting to give up, but Kyoya felt he would be betraying not just Chikako, but the entire Akiyoshi Clan if two Ootori's ruled the joint corporation. Yet, his father trusted him enough to run an organization side by side, rather than under him. Kyoya pressed his lips together in a firm line, concentrating on his words, organizing his thoughts, and trying to keep a steady gaze with his father's cold, dark eyes. "What about Chikako's role?"

"We'll fill her in and I'll graciously hand my half over to her when she returns, but this company needs to stay afloat in the time being, especially if your new wife keeps making such…interesting friends."

"I doubt these kidnappings are her fault," Kyoya assured his father. "There's something more cynical at hand and Chikako regrettably happens to be in the middle of it. That's unfortunate, but we shouldn't punish her for that."

His father's eyes looked away, a barely noticeable smirk forming in the corner of his mouth making his eyes glint a bit, but soon it disappeared, and Mr. Ootori looked at his son again. He was silent, which was never a good sign. Slowly he stood, his fingers tightly balancing on the long table he and his son sat at. "Kyoya," he stated, steadily. "You must think of your future and the future of this company. You must remember that after the nursing year, the Ootori-Akiyoshi Corporation will be independent. You cannot go into the light if you do not start walking now. Chikako will join you later, but you are the man and the head of the company. She is the little voice, but you are the gavel, ringing true the final decision. Do you understand?"

Chikako was hardly a little voice, but Kyoya did understand what Mr. Ootori was trying to convey. He wasn't quite set on his father's ideas, but still there was this longing to be that son that was both respectful and respected. With his jaw set and teeth gritted tight, he nodded, gradually. His father raised his chin in approval and took his seat again. "Good. I knew you would see reason. This is best, economically, politically, internally…"

Kyoya smiled, smoothly. "Yes, father, you're quite right. We'll have to get the company going as soon as possible, but Chikako must be our first priority."

Mr. Ootori nodded, vigorously. "Yes, yes, of course, I wouldn't have it any other way." Just in case he hadn't quite convinced his son, he put his hand on Kyoya's shoulder and smiled, thinly. "She'll be back in your mitts before you know it. Now, about that meeting…"

Chikako glared at her wrists. She was fastened to the leg of the bed by a pair of rusty handcuffs. Her glower moved to Randal, the same man who she and Jake had been friends with and who had kidnapped her a year before. He was the only thing in the room keeping Jake's lips so tightly shut.

Randall smirked, leaning against Jake's chest of drawers. "Kinky, huh?" he sneered, nodding toward her restraints.

Jake took a deep, steadying breath, his eyes darting toward his friend, irritated. "Randy-"

"Shut it, Lawrence," Randall snapped, a smile on his poisonous face, his eyes still devouring the state of Chikako trapped on the floor. "I'm having a moment."

Chikako scoffed in disgust. "What happened to you?" she wondered, aloud. "You were nicer before."

Randall bobbed his head toward Jake. "So was he. A lot can change in a couple years, huh, sweetheart?" His eyes trailed down and lingered on her wedding ring. "You of all people would seem to know that," he added, accusatorily.

She gawked at his comment, but remained silent. She finally wretched her eyes away from his venomous gaze, concentrating on the wood floor beneath her, knowing that he wasn't exactly wrong. Chikako felt her wrists throb within the cuffs and winced as the metal dug into her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake's face contort into a pained expression at her misery. She quickly looked away again. "So, why am I cuffed, Jake?"

Randall chuckled and opened his mouth, but Chikako jerked her cold eyes his way, narrowed and dangerous. "Not you," she snapped. She turned. "Jake. Why did you let him cuff me?"

Jake was silent, but Chikako was patient. Thankfully, Randall was too, but seemed too amused by the whole situation, his sick little smirk churning the bile in Chikako's throat. "Go on, Jakey boy. Tell her," Randall finally baited.

Jake tossed his friend a glare. "We were told to. You're not supposed to be roaming freely around my apartment like you used to, so…"

"So, you chained me to a bed?" Chikako asked, incredulously.

Randall laughed. "I wanted to just put you in the cupboard, but apparently Lawrence is kinkier than I gave him credit!" he playfully punched his friend in the shoulder.

Jake took a rasping, harsh breath in. "Shut up, Randy."

Chikako wiggled around and felt how light the bed seemed for something she was cuffed to. "So, what now?" she spat, already forming a plan of escape. "What's your master plan, big shot?"

"We don't have one—they do," Randall answered, simply. "They tell us what to do and we do it."

Chikako scoffed. "Just like that?"

Randall grinned and rubbed his fingers together mischievously, the sound of cash registers' chimes echoing in Chikako's mind. "Just like that." They were getting paid and by the width of his smile, Chikako guessed the amount included more digits than her phone number.

Her eyes trailed over to Jake, who was looking away from her, as if there was a circus reflected in the palm of his hand. When he looked up, there she was, staring him down like a scolding parent. He surprised her by holding her gaze, unlike the past when he would look away sheepishly. He held onto the tense atmosphere strong for a minute or two. She didn't see their old spark, though. She saw his hurt clouded with guilt and it was all she could take not to turn away. But she held fast; she had a reputation and prideful nature to uphold.

Randall clapped his hands together, making Chikako jump and break the stare-down. Jake, unfazed by the sudden noise, gently turned toward his friend. Randall was rubbing his palms together, itching to ditch. "Well, I'll leave you two love doves alone. Well, really love hawk and sparrow," he corrected himself with a secret smirk. "Spoiler alert: the hawk may not be you, Jake. Watch it."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Where are you going, mate?"

Randall grabbed a pair of car keys. "Well, someone's gotta watch the tramp. Someone, not sometwo. Adios, mate, I vote you the unlucky jailor."

Jake and Chikako stared, wide-eyed and drop-jawed. Suddenly, they spoke at once, Jake yelling, "Don't just leave ya traitor!" and Chikako retorting indignantly, "I'm not a tramp!" Randall laughed, loudly, before slamming the front door behind him.

There was a long silence where Jake stood staring at the exit, and then back to Chikako. She memorized the creases in his shirt, the ripples in his back, and the slight curves of the soft muscles along his arms. She noticed his fingers curling into fists by his side. She broke the quiet by yanking against her restraints, half-heartedly, reminding Jake that she was still there.

He sighed, loudly, but didn't turn. His hands flexed over and over, signifying his thought process. "What do you want?"

"For you to uncuff me and let me fly back to Japan unharmed?"

Jake bit his lip. "Ha ha."

There was a pause. Chikako swallowed her anxiety. "Ja-?"

He shook his head, roughly and started toward the door. "I can't do this."

She struggled more with her cuffs, trying to implement her plan early "Jake. Jake? Jake, where-?" Groaning, she lifted the bed behind her and wretched forward to break free. She scrambled against the wood floor, the foot of the bed resting on the medal. She gave it a quick yank and was almost freed when Jake spun around and lunged for her hands. She screamed, but not out of fear. She knew he would never hurt her in a million years; he could, however, piss her off to no end by keeping her chained to the bed. Angry and betrayed, she spat at his face, so he tightened his grip on her, making her wince.

Jake glared. "Randall was right. I should have locked you in the cupboard. You'll make too much noise out here. I've got neighbors to worry about, you know." He lowered his voice, suddenly. "I was going to let you escape. That bed is laughably light and the cuffs take almost no time to break, but…" He shook his head and it hit her: Jake wanted Chikako to pay. He wasn't the Jake she once knew and she wondered, briefly if she ever knew him at all. They had "fallen in love" after only a few months and had dated for over a year which was only serious for her because she was a teenage girl. Was it just play-time for a college student like him?

He untangled her body from the twisted mess she had contorted herself into trying to get free. The cuffs held her back from hitting him right in the face. He lifted her up bridal style, but it was too rough and too careless to ever be thought of as romantic. He was gentler with setting her down inside the closet, but it was still a swift, harsh motion. She hit the floor with a loud, hard thud, and before she could blink, he slammed the door in her face, locking it with a soft click.

Even though she was cuffed and tied, she lashed out as fervently as she could, ramming herself into the door again and again, each hit bringing on a new round of tears. "I'm sorry, Jake! I-I'm so sorry! I don't care how much they've paid you, I-I'll double it! T-T-Triple, even; just please! I know I deserve this, but-!"

There was a loud slam and she knew it was the front door. Jake had left her there, alone in the dark, the light from under the door gone from existence. Right then she knew that her only hope was the possibility of a neighbor hearing her. So, she opened her mouth and screamed, screeched, yelled, and wailed, banging herself against the door, hysterical. She continued this over the course of the hour, never growing tired, for every time she thought of her old Jake, the loving, passionate, protective Jake, and compared him to this new betrayed monstrous man, she missed Kyoya all the more.

When she realized no one was coming for her, she sank against the door, still rasping how sorry she was. For what she had done to Jake, for how she had acted toward Kyoya, for leaving, for lying, for trying to love someone else… How so terribly sorry she was, indeed.

"So, you're asking for our help?" the twins asked. Kaoru ruffled his brother's new hair, playfully. Hikaru had dyed it a dark ash color earlier that week and his brother had been slowly but surely getting used to the change. Hikaru stuck out his tongue, their old harmony faltering a bit, but in a crackly, melodious way. Harhi chuckled, but not as wholeheartedly as she generally did. Thinks were starting to flicker out in the club as the year came to a close.

Kyoya folded his hands in his lap. "I'm asking for your family's help. Honey-sempai, the Haninozuka's have been a presiding police force for Japan, especially with the help of the Morinozuka investigatory prowess, so you could organize a group to aid my own police force. Tamaki and the twins could help with the public relations and expenses. Haruhi knows more about Chikako than I do. I think we have a better chance of finding her than the private police force does, I'm pained to say." Kyoya took a deep breath. "Now, I know that we all just went on break for Golden Week, but-"

Suddenly, Tamaki, who had been sitting close to Haruhi during this orientation, sprung up with his fist in the air. "Of course we'll help! Hikaru, Kaoru!"

The twins popped up in vigorous salutes. "Yes, boss!"

"Call the Japanese Embassy, the part that deals with your mother's business affairs overseas. We're going to need business class passports!"

"Yes, milord!"

Tamaki turned around. "Honey-sempai, get your fighters ready to go in! Mori-sempai, roll up your sleeves and help Kyoya's officers track down Chi-chan!"

Honey grinned. "Yes sir, Mr. King, sir!"

Mori simply nodded in approval.

Tamaki's authoritative finger landed on Haruhi. She blinked, confused. "Me? What do you expect me-?"

Tamaki's voice softened a bit, but was still firm. "I need you to go with Kyoya to help him track Chikako. You know more about her than we do, like he said, so-"

"But she was kidnapped," Haruhi countered. "If she had run away or something, then sure, maybe I had a chance to help, but how will we find her in such an unpredictable circumstance?"

"That's the thing, though," Tamaki answered with an ironic smile. "Chikako is an unpredictable circumstance, and nothing beats her spontaneity."

"You think Chikako could control her own kidnapping?" Haruhi asked, incredulously.

Kyoya then spoke up. "I think Chikako knew her kidnappers. She said they were Americans and she seemed to recognize them last time. I'm not sure how, but-"

Haruhi shook her head. "She didn't know any Americans; at least I don't think she did." She paused. "Well, maybe she did know one, a friend of a friend kind of thing, but he lived in London, not America."

Tamaki looked hopeful, but Kyoya sighed. "We'll need more than that."

Haruhi shrugged. "Why don't we go there and check it out, anyways? You rich people must have millions to spend on plane tickets. I know his name."

Tamaki furrowed his brow. "His?"

"Who?" Kyoya asked with exaggerated patience.

"R-Randall Martin," Haruhi stuttered. "At least, I think that's his name. She told me he was a friend of hers, but not closely, so-"

"It's enough to go on," Tamaki pointed out, quickly. "Right, Kyoya?"

His best friend nodded. "Haruhi, can you and Tamaki stay here in the meantime to hold the club together? I'll take a few officers, buy a plane ticket, and if there is a lead, then-"

"Wait," Haruhi interrupted. "You're using that as a lead? Taking off to London with a bunch of policemen because of something so vague? Something vague I said?"

Kyoya sighed and his glasses slipped down his nose. As he adjusted them, Haruhi thought she saw dark circles around his onyx colored eyes. His gaze, for the first time, seemed to plead with her. "It's all we have."

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, guys! Senior year isn't the relaxing joke I've been told it is. :P "Senioritis" exists, but it's deadlier than you can imagine when the work is piling up. I love writing this book, though. Writing in general is what gets me through the day.

So, what did you guys think of this chapter? What did you love, hate, think I should change, etc? I want to know it all! Favorite characters, are your opinions changing about the story from when you read the first book to how you think this second one is panning out? Let me know! Love you guys and have a great Columbus Day Weekend!

~Kit Koko