When Worlds Collide | PJM - KTH ✓ (Hahm Series #3)

Chapter 2

'Come onnn, you piece of shit,' Tae beseeched as he balanced on a single knee and focused on guiding the hairgrip into the keyhole.

Two hours he'd been attempting to pick the lock, blaspheming like a sailor every time his shaking hands dropped the clip that had fallen from Heiran's hair. Peeking through one eye did nothing to aid him in his complex task, nor did switching from one leg to the other every ten seconds.

'Could really use you right now, Min Yoongi,' he sing-songed while tiredly rolling out his neck. 'You always did have a knack for this illicit backstreet shit.'

Wiping a bead of sweat from his temple, Tae sat back on his haunches and took a second to get his shit together. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd tried to get the door open, but after twenty-four hours of being cooped like a chicken, he was resolved to escape his prison.

Shaking a damp strand of hair from his face, he widened the hairgrip between his teeth and shuffled back towards the one and only exit.

He had no idea what he was supposed to be listening for as the slide rattled around inside the metal latch, but when he heard a distinct click, his fingers froze, and he quickly ducked his head to peer through the hole.

Had he done it? Was it unlocked?

With meticulous precision, Tae curled his fingers around the handle and began to twist, wincing when the screeching metal breached the stillness of the penthouse.

It was almost open, but when a loud thump shook the door on its hinges, Tae cussed and tumbled onto his backside.

'Stop dicking around in there!' Hoseok's nasally chords shouted from the living room as the mechanism he'd been working on tragically snapped back into place.

'Fucking prick!' Tae seethed, immediately rising to kick a jagged piece of porcelain through the air.

It bounced off the wall of glass and exploded into eight more pieces as he sagged onto the bed and pressed his knuckles against his maroon face to conceal a savage growl.

What harm would a few more fragments do to the train wreck he was trapped in? He'd already destroyed the vase during his last fit of rage. Along with the contemporary alarm clock, four books from the shelf, the nightstand lamp, and - courtesy of the vase - the full-length mirror.

Why?

Because he was out of his mind for coming here in the first place. Just like he was out of his mind for believing that he could escape when Jung Hoseok was stationed outside with two gorilla-sized men.

Tae had never considered himself a naïve man, but the trap Heiran had set was so glaringly obvious now, and if not for the fact that he'd demolished the bedroom to unleash his aggravation for royally screwing up, his face would be black and blue from smacking it a hundred times over.

Despite detesting himself for not seeing what was right in front of him, he was still stuck in a multi-billion penthouse after witnessing the murder of Lee Heiran, and driving himself senseless with worry because Yunhee was a hair's breadth from being adult-napped by his certifiable doppelgänger.