Hostage Handbook

Chapter Twenty-Three | Our War of Hearts

YEOREUM

My head jerks towards the door in a stiff, almost mechanical motion.

Jungkook lifts his feet over the metal sill. The leather heels land on my safe haven, slitting the safe part out of the name.

Jungkook is only one metre away from me. The captor I am running away from is only one metre away from me. My heart leaps so high I am afraid that it'll jump out of my mouth.

"So, you're willing to be a cat abuser for your freedom?" Jungkook says. His voice doesn't contain the anger or hurt I anticipated, but the mere sound of it is enough to crush my hopes.

A thrum pulsates through my uvula, clenching the wet tissue like it is trying to rip it to shreds. I try to wallow in my shock to put off looking at Jungkook, only to realise that my mind is completely blank.

"I turned into a murderer the first time I tried to run away," I mumble. "I feel like you're not giving me enough credit for that."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at my leg. I am wearing a cheap pair of shorts the kiosk lady gifted me. The papery fabric exposes the gaping red hole on my thigh. Everything is greasy with pus.

"I thought you're a competent doctor, Song Yeoreum. Your leg looks quite infected," Jungkook says with the same flat voice.

My lips twitch to widen my mirthless smile. "I didn't care when I sloshed around for that GPS, so I probably damaged a bunch of nerves."

Jungkook clenches my shoulders, forcing me to meet his softly tremoring eyes.

"So, you won't mind if I chop both of your legs off to keep you with me?"

"Sure, go ahead. I don't care."

Jungkook's eyes dilate with rage. He pushes me against the cupboard and runs his gaze over my ugly haircut and blistered skin. There is a whelm of disbelief in his eyes. A sickening kind of disbelief a child feels when they realise there is a stain on their favourite barbie doll.

But suddenly, a sigh slips out of Jungkook's mouth, deflating every trace of anger and disbelief. His previous indifference collapses into powerlessness. He shakes his head, drawing my attention to the dark eye circles beneath his eyes and the budding stubbles on his cheeks.

"Let's go home," Jungkook utters, his voice cracking as he speaks. "Please, Yeoreum."

Jungkook braces his arms around my waist and carries me out of the shed.

The night is cold, with the smell of fish guts still hanging in the air. Jungkook's expensive shoes rise and fall over the murky floor at a steady pace that almost makes me feel embarrassed.

A screech emerges from the side. The obnoxiously grating sound is all too familiar. It is from one of the sheds, the same shabby kind I dwelled in for the past week.

Mr Seo shambles past a disfigured vessel to make his way to us. A group of security guards immediately forms a semi-circle around him.

Mr Seo raises an eyebrow at Jungkook. "Who are you, young man?"

"I am Yeoreum's husband," Jungkook says without batting an eyelash. "She ran away because she caught me cheating. Our son is at home crying for her to feed him."

I've never questioned Jungkook's thick-skinned talent with lying. My face is next to his chest, yet I don't hear his heartbeat quickening. But despite his tranquillity, Mr Seo doesn't seem to buy his story.

"I see." Mr Seo looks at me with narrowed eyes. "Is that true, Yeoreum?"

A lump rises to my throat, and I quickly blink away from Mr Seo. What can Mr Seo do? Things will only turn from blue to grey and maybe a little red from Mr Seo's blood.