Beneath the Surface // Moonsun

Chapter 23

Yongsun POV

I have reason to believe that I've been in the underground storage of a harbor warehouse for nearly a day now. It's impossible to know exactly where since Adrian blindfolded me the moment I got into his rusting teal pickup truck, but, from the hour-long drive and the vaguely dock-sounding noises I've been listening to all these hours, I think I'm at Morgan Harbor.

My pistol had been taken off of me and I hadn't even bothered bringing a cell phone because that would've been taken too. He then led me down here with a large hand too far down my back. I can still remember the smell of his sour breath when he slipped off my blindfold and said someone would be coming for me soon.

Soon. Right.

Prolonged seclusion in a nearly pitch-black concrete room isn't the worst thing to have happened to me though. It somewhat reminds me of a less comfortable version of how I spend my weekends. I've also had time to recount and recite every Yongsun Choi fact that I can remember.

I brush my fingers against one side of the wall and do the same on the other side. Five feet wide, maybe about two of me long, and dusty as hell. It's less of an extra storage space and more of a forgotten supply closet. There's a bucket that I placed against the far wall that I assumed was for my excrement. If it wasn't, it is now.

My mouth is the equivalent of sandpaper and my stomach writhes with hunger pains. The thought crossed my mind that I was left here to die a slow, horrible death while smelling my shit the whole way through. Hell, I might even try to consume my shit-piss.

It's a bit disappointing. I at least thought I would die via a bullet in the back of the head. I didn't expect it to be in a supply closet where I keep drifting off to sleep and wake up reeling from vivid dreams that generally consist of Byulyi in various states of undress. In various positions. Mostly kneeling down in front of me with reverence in her gaze.

Strange that I only have these sorts of fantasies when I'm stuck in a tiny space and suffering from dehydration. I think that says something about our relationship but I can't place my finger on it.

I quickly look up as a shadow passes over the door of the storage closet and my little cell gets uncomfortably dark.

I perk up from my crouched position against the wall. "Hello!"

A set of keys jingles outside the door and I scamper my way closer despite my suspicions that this might be the moment they shoot me in the face and off me for good. Like it'd ever be that easy.

The door swings open and my eyes dilate painfully at the sudden brightness from the hallway. A large man's silhouette stands in front of the door, but before I can focus on him he firmly grips my arm and pulls me out.

"Let's go."

The man's voice is gruff, nearly primal. He pulls me down the bare concrete hallways as my eyes adjust to the light. I glance up at his face. Thick reddish-brown beard. Coppery strands of hair pulled back into a knot at the back of his head. He matches Byulyi's description of the man named Hamlet to a tee. I look down at the hand that holds me, the ring that glints on his finger.

"Adrian said he would be back to get me soon," I say haughtily and force frustration into my voice. I'm barely strong enough to walk, let alone pretend to be Yongsun Choi the bitchy drug dealer.

"Adrian forgot. So now he's off-duty and I get to deal with ya." He doesn't seem happy about that.

"He seemed like a bit of pervert anyway."

"Man can't even hold a boner, I wouldn't worry bout him."

My lips turn down in disgust. How he even knows that is a little strange but I choose to believe he's making assumptions about Adrian's capabilities.