N0 B0DY, N0 CRIM3 | Bang Chan

Ensnared

A/N: Hi. It's Friday and I promised that once I finished the story, I'd drop the remaining chapters all at once, so here it is. I'll see you on the other side. Enjoy!!  

(grab your tissues) 

_ _ _ 

Kiera watched Lee Know drive away in silence. He dropped her off in a space he was sure there were no cameras to capture him. She stood rooted in her spot and watched him go. Her helmet was cemented between his thighs. He'd be driving to a lower rated hotel to meet up with the guys. 

More tears blurred Kiera's vision. For the first time in three months, she was terribly and utterly alone. There was nobody to save her. Nobody comforted her and wiped her tears. There was no Seungmin to tease her. No Lee Know to provide tough love. No Felix to reassuringly cling to her body with a hug. No Han to come up with a quick joke. 

A strangled sob escaped the back of her throat as reality settled in. What had she done? In the heat of the moment, it seemed like a good idea. She was only a few minutes away from the white house. Now that she was in the area, she felt herself morphing back into that scared little girl. 

Would she feel her father's wrath tonight? Would he spare her life tonight? Would he snap her neck the moment the two of them were alone? Would she be destroyed by the public? Assassinated before she reached the white house gate?

Remember who you are. 

Chan's words echoed in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a lungful of city air. He was right. She was Kiera fucking Campbell. She posted video after video exposing her father. She exposed the truth behind her best friend's suicide. She exposed the truth about her own attempted suicide. She even posted the truth about her mother's assassination. 

Rage ignited in her bones. She wouldn't be silenced by her father. She wouldn't follow in the footsteps of her mother. Her hands clenched into fists and she headed towards the white house with a new found determination. She would not buckle and fall. She would not collapse onto the ground and bow out. 

She might stumble and she might falter, but she was not going to fucking fail. For the sake of Chan and his group, she would not fail. She'd negotiate with her father to the best of her ability. She'd get him to let the captured members go or she would raise hell. There was no other option. 

A few minutes later, a voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

"Holy shit, it's her!" 

Kiera froze in her tracks. She dropped her fists and her face went pale. She barely had time to drop her fierce facade before the first flash went off. Over and over again. White flash after white flash filled the air. Questions were thrown around, reporters swarmed her body like a stampede. 

"Kiera, tell us the truth!" 

"Were you a hostage of Stray Kids?" 

"Did your father really hire someone to assassinate your mother?"

"Kiera! Kiera! Kiera!" 

She couldn't see. Flash after flash blinded her vision. People were quick to run towards her. Everyone wanted to be the first one to interview Kiera Campbell. She yelped as people began pushing towards her. An elbow slammed into her bruised rib cage. 

Black dots filled her vision and mixed with the white flashes. The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. She tried to keep her balance. Someone shoved a microphone in her face. Her knees gave out beneath her and something else slammed into her rib cage. 

The darkened bruises on her face were easy to see with the flashes. She struggled to suck in a breath. The crowd around her grew. Her eyes searched around frantically, but all she could see was bodies. There was too much warmth. Too much was happening all at once. 

Someone grabbed onto her wrist, but she jerked away. The crowd was going to swallow her whole. There must have been hundreds of them. She dropped her body forward and curled into herself wanting to melt into the pavement. 

"Move!" A loud voice barked. "Move out of the way! Everyone back up unless you want to be arrested on behalf of the capital police! I said back up!" 

Kiera squeezed her eyes shut and plugged her ears hoping it would all go away. She kept trying to pull in a breath, but the simple task was beginning to seem impossible along the crowd. If they didn't stop soon, she'd be crushed to death along the bodies. 

Lucas Wilson charged through the reporters with multiple secret service agents. As he stormed towards Kiera, he didn't care who he tossed to the side. Using his tall body, he shoved his way through the crowd. He wiggled and wormed and weaved. 

When he finally reached Kiera, he grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her up to her feet. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her ear. He jerked her body into his chest to wrap his arms around her protectively. 

"Kiera, can you hear me? You're okay. I've got you. We're going to take you inside to see your father, alright? Just ignore the media." 

She managed to weakly nod. Secret service agents formed a barrier around the two of them to protect them from reporters. Cameras continued to flicker and questions were tossed, but Kiera ignored them. She walked with her head down and let the guy lead her back towards the white house. 

She couldn't focus on the dread building up when anxiety flooded her. Her chest was taught with worry. Lucas kept his body around her and led her through the black gate. Once they were through, secret service members slammed it shut. Capital police officers formed a line in front of the gate with riot shields. 

A door opened and Kiera was pushed into the main foyer. She realized it when the pavement beneath her feet turned into white marble flooring. She kept walking without looking up. 

"Kiera? Oh my god, what happened to you?" The one person she had been dreading meeting the most spoke. 

She slowly lifted her head to face her father. He didn't have to pretend to be shocked. It was genuine as he stared at his daughter. He knew she had changed looks in the video, but he figured it was video editing. He didn't realize his daughter actually had short black hair. 

Lucas stepped away from Kiera to let her have a moment. She sucked in a few deep breaths staring at her father. The two of them were sworn enemies now, but he'd never know that. At least, not yet. 

"D-Daddy?" 

She hadn't called her father by that name since she was a child. It was fitting because she felt like a child again. That terrified child still lived inside of her. The one that crept around trying not to make a sound. The one that took safety in her room when her father was angry. The one that hid her true feelings from her father because she never knew when he'd blow a fuse. 

His eyes scanned the clothes she was wearing. His gaze lingered on all the bruises. Without a word, he rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. She yelped again from her bruised ribs. He pushed her head into his shoulder. 

"I missed you so much." 

A sob came from Kiera's mouth. Not because she missed her father, but because she had to smear her family's name. Nobody knew Stray Kids, but she did. They would never hurt her in all the ways her father had. Her porcelain heart had been dropped. It shattered all over the white house floor. 

Behind them, a row of secret service members stood. Lucas was the spark and the rest followed suit. Once he began clapping, they all did. A father reunited with his daughter after months. She was forced to do whatever it took to survive. What a lovely and heart-warming sight. 

They had no idea that a group of ten secret service members had been slaughtered. Lucas said they'd been reassigned in other places. He knew they were missing and he assumed them to be dead. He had no idea that their bodies had been chopped up and fed to pigs. Nobody knew Stray Kids lingered in the area. 

Kiera spoke her truth in the latest video, but when she forced herself to say she was held against her will, her truth crumbled. Nobody realized who the true villain was. Nobody realized her father was playing all of them like a fiddle. 

She was back to square one all over again; Stray Kids were America's biggest threat and number one enemy.