Hostage {ℍ𝕐𝕌ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾} -- DISCONTINUED

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"How's the ankle?" Jisung looked up, the bandages that had been tightly wrapped around his sprain discarded on the ground beside the bed. He prodded at it, lips spreading into a devilish grin when he felt no pain.

"It's go time."

Smirking, Hyunjin pushed off of the wall he'd been leaning against, walking over to their desk which was now littered with all sorts of stuff. Jisung couldn't make sense of the mess even if he wanted to, but – strangely enough – Hyunjin seemed to know exactly where everything was.

He never would've expected him to be a messy organizer.

Over the last week, Hyunjin had insisted he stay inside to let his ankle rest – it did heal nicely, though, he'd never admit it to Hyunjin's face. However, with all that time to do nothing but think, they'd worked out a plan that would hopefully carry them through the storm to come.

There was a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach – whatever was about to go down, it would be nothing good. And that worried him. His gut had lead him out of many tricky situations; he'd always listened to it.

He'd only felt this type of dread once before, and it was disconcerting to feel it here and now. They were so close, and now that they'd gotten exactly where they needed to be, he felt like they were standing on a precipice. On one side, there was the life he'd always known, and on the other, nothing but a never-ending darkness he couldn't discern.

Sometimes there's a reason to be afraid of the dark.

He blinked, startled from his thoughts when Hyunjin slid a holster towards him. He looked up, meeting his gaze, only to quickly avert it. The holster fit snuggly across his back, discreet beneath the jacket he would eventually throw overtop. Two sleek handguns found themselves locked in the holster, pressed right into his sides.

"Have you made the call yet?" Jisung asked as he fastened his black tie. This was one thing he'd never quite understood about their whole underground society – why the fuck did they always wear suits? They were killers and drug dealers and money launderers, there was nothing professional or charming about them. Why did they pretend otherwise?

At least the suit gave him a practical use; nobody would be able to see his guns beneath the thick black jacket. Going in with visible weaponry would definitely be a disaster – a perceived threat, and he didn't fancy getting shot. Again. Going in without weapons would be just as much of a catastrophe; without defence, he'd probably get shot. Again.

"Not yet." He frowned. "Something about this doesn't sit well with me."

They were quiet for a long moment. Him too, huh? "Well, we might as well bite the bullet. Don't worry, I'll protect you." He winked.

Snorting, Hyunjin rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he slipped his guns into his own holster. "With your track record, I'm pretty sure I'll have to protect you."

Jisung grinned devilishly, leaning in close. "That's kinda sexy." Without a word, Hyunjin leaned back, moving towards the door. As he turned, Jisung caught the faintest hint of red on his cheeks.

Eyebrows furrowing, he watched as Hyunjin paused, hand on the doorknob. This reaction was... different. Why? "Let's go," he said, voice soft and low. The door opened and he slipped out, leaving Jisung alone in the messy hotel room.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach got worse.

~#~#~#~#~#~

The drive to the Luckyshot club – Moonbeam's replacement – was silent. For once, Jisung didn't know what to say, no quip on the tip of his tongue ready to dissolve the silence he hated so much. Hyunjin didn't seem particularly interested in talking about anything, either; something was troubling him.

As much as Hyunjin tried to keep his emotions hidden – which he typically succeeded at – Jisung had spent enough time holed up with this guy to recognize the faint crease between his brows, the slight twitch of his lips, the absent yet concentrated look in his eye.

For the life of him, though, Jisung couldn't figure out what it was. What could be troubling him so much? It had to have been something that happened between him leaving the hotel and coming back after seeing Minho.

He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, staring at the gang leader from the corner of his eye. What could Minho possibly have said that would make him react this way? Well, actually, there were a great many things Minho could have said about him – they'd known each other for years – but what would be bad enough to get the usually calm and collected Hyunjin to react like this?

Even more pressingly – why did he care?

He swallowed thickly and tore his gaze away, instead settling on the late-night scenery passing by through the window. He'd always loved the nightlife in this part of town; it was so... different from what he was accustomed to.

It was bright, for one, and while there were still some rather shady activities that went on up here, it was mostly his underlings – the drug dealers, the extortionists, the thieves – that did business in these types of areas.

Jisung was always entrusted with more... serious issues, issues that took place in abandoned buildings because who would want to be caught in that sort of situation? Not him, that was for sure. He'd already given nearly his entire life to his father to serve the family – he wasn't about to sacrifice what little else he had of it to serve time.

As the memories of those abandoned buildings flooded his mind, he grimaced. There were some things even he didn't like doing. A lot of them had taken place in those abandoned buildings.

Soon enough, a bright, neon sign illuminated a rather dark corner. Luckyshot. The club's name had changed not even a month after Choi Yongsun's disappearance, sold to a new anonymous owner. It was under the radar, but still, he'd heard of it here and there. It was definitely a grounds for some sort of illegal activity. He was willing to bet that this anonymous owner was indeed Choi Yongsun's nephew, Minho's uncle.

It looked respectable – it wasn't rundown or shabby as he might've imagined a place where underground dealers went. Then again, he didn't know enough about the Lees to be able to guess at what type of gang they were. Minho didn't speak of them much, but from the desperation with which he had wanted to leave, he wouldn't doubt that they were ruthless.

Hyunjin turned off the ignition, leaving them cloaked in darkness just down the block from their destination. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I have a feeling they won't see us if we call." Hyunjin's eyes were trained on the bright neon sign ahead, a frown marring his features.

"The Lees don't seem the type to be cordial and polite to other gangs – especially not gangs like ours that don't do business with them." He looked over at Jisung, eyebrows creasing. "If we call – they'll know we're coming, and they'll have the time to leave before we get in."

A slow smirk pulled at Jisung's lips. "So... what you're telling me, is that we'll need to sneak in?"

Hyunjin's own lips mirrored his smirk. "Something like that."

"Well, this is gonna get interesting."

A/N: I DID NOT THINK TWO WEEKS HAD ALREADY PASSED WHAT THE HELL

Comment your questions down below! It's Q&A time next chappie.

Lots of love,

~Emilie