VIXEN

Prologue

"Here is your taxi money," said Hayate and he threw five twenty Hong Kong dollar bills on the bed where Avin laid bare with legs spread, her body and face bruised purple from the punches, and the bloody sheets from her torn labia.

His three men were putting their pants on and straightening their ties in the mirror. They didn't dare to look back at Avin who's gazeless stare - looked as if she was counting the tiles on the ceiling. The white pain of her broken wrist would explode in bursts and her eyes would water.

I will not let them see me cry.

The Japanese-Chinese Hayate affectionately nicknamed Hate looked down at his wife's best friend - her broken, bleeding, and naked body laying powerless. "I didn't want to do this, but you forced my hand."

Seeing the scattered twenty Hong Kong dollar bills, it drove Hayate to collect them again and order them into a nice pile on the cheap bed table that held the chained remote control.

"We love the same woman that's why I didn't kill you," he added. And he put his hand on her forehead and gently wiped her bangs out of her eyes. She had blood clots near her pupils. She looked straight up without focusing or acknowledging he was there.

Maybe she didn't even know he was there anymore.

"We will meet you outside boss," said Rong his loyal security man.

"Pay for the room and the damages but make sure they do not contact the police." Hayate stated firmly. "Also make sure no one helps her from her room. She has to get her own taxi. Let them know if someone helps her, we will kill them."

"Understood." And Rong looked at the two other men. They nodded and he went to the door opened it and held it while they exited.

When the room was empty, Hayate went to the bathroom to wash his hands. He noticed the two cheap towels were in heaps on the floor. He picked them up and folded them nicely and laid them on the closed toilet seat.

After he had soaped his hands and rinsed them, Hayate dried his hands without unfolding the towels. He simply rubbed the back and the front of his hands up and down them.

He came out and saw the porn that was playing on the television of the hourly hotel. The woman was taking two men at once and was groaning and smiling.

He turned to Avin and she remained blank. Just starring upward.

"I don't want to see you in Hong Kong again. You threatened me with telling a secret that is not yours to tell." He paused letting the words sink in. "You fucked the woman I loved. The world doesn't need another dyke." Hate began to fix his hair in the mirrored wall and looked through it to see Avin. "Go back to Nepal. If I hear you return, I will kill you. Understood?"

Avin didn't answer.

Hate saw Avin's clothes thrown about the room. He gently collected them and when he found her torn panties - he smelled them and smiled. He collected them under his arm, took one last look, and slipped out.

In the hallway, the staff were locked in the management office but looking through the glass cashier window - nervously.

"Do you have a trash bin?" Hate asked.

The Chinese woman pointed behind him.

And behind him was a trash bin and he gingerly pushed the tangled clothing inside. Then Hate bounded down the stairs and outside.

Avin pretended he was still in the room for a few minutes more - just in case he forgot something. She couldn't show her emotions. Then when the white explosion of pain from her broken wrist came back again - she screamed.