Stuck With You [Taekook ff]

59 | Willow Steele

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"They're here," Jungkook whispered to Taehyung, who had sat next to Jungkook on the carpeted floor of the hiding place, his dark eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger.

The two had entered a walk-in closet that had another door to the back of it. There was a heavy wooden door that locked from the inside, hidden behind coats and other garments hanging. And behind the heavy door was a hiding spot that they climbed into. The secret compartment in the wall was barely big enough for the two of them, but they squeezed inside, breathing shallowly, as they listened.

Getting past all the hanging clothes to get to the safe place, oddly reminded Taehyung of when Lucy Pevensie found the other world through a wardrobe in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It was a fun fact he would share with Jungkook once they made it out of this conundrum they'd found themselves in.

"You said 'they're here.' Who do you mean, 'they'?" Taehyung's voice was a mix of concern and confusion.

Jungkook didn't respond. Through the eye-peep on the wooden door, his eyes were already flickering toward the closet, and his ears listening to the shadows moving down below. He recognized the voices—there was no mistaking them. The men who killed his parents had followed them to the apartment. His blood turned cold, and his heart pounded as if it were trying to escape his chest.

The same three men who had haunted his nightmares for weeks—the ones who had killed the Crasses and the Jeons—had followed them. He didn't need to see their faces to know it was them. Their voices floated through the halls, low and threatening, as they searched the apartment.

"Jeon Jungkook," one of the men taunted, his voice carrying through the halls. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Taehyung's grip on Jungkook's hand tightened. He didn't need to say anything for Jungkook to feel his fear, but there was something else, too—determination. They weren't going to be able to run forever. The men were getting closer, footsteps heavy on the stairs as their eyes searched the space. 

"We know you have the money," another voice growled. "It's been hidden for years. If you don't come out, we'll burn this place down."

Did these guys set him up? Did they know he'd come back here?

Jungkook's armpits started to sweat, not out of fear, but out of anger. The sound of that voice—the mocking tone, the sneer in every syllable—triggered something deep inside him. That was the same voice he had heard taunting his parents right before they were murdered. You're dead. His mind flashed back to that evening, both evenings, the gunshots, the screams, the terror.

He felt his pulse quicken, felt the rage rise in his chest. He had a gun hidden beneath his jacket, and before he could stop himself, he released his hand from Taehyung's and reached for it. Taehyung's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could draw it. Their eyes locked in the dim light of the hiding space, and Taehyung's expression was shockingly calm but firm.

"Not yet," Taehyung whispered, his touch grounding Jungkook. It was a silent plea not to act on impulse, not to throw himself into a situation they couldn't control. But even as he did this, Taehyung quietly reached for his own gun. He wasn't going to let these men take Jungkook or hurt him, but they needed to be smart about it.

Through the narrow crack of the walk-in closet, as he looked through the peephole, Taehyung could see the shadow of one of the men creeping closer. His boots thudded against the wooden floor, and Taehyung's grip on his gun tightened.

The man called out again, "Jeon Jungkook, where are you? We know you're here. Just give us the money, all of it, and this will all be over."

Taehyung's phone buzzed silently in his pocket. He glanced at the screen—it was Namjoon. Heart pounding, he quickly answered, holding the phone close to his ear.