“Where is Sang-Hyun hiding?” I command, never removing my boot.
Hwang moves as if to struggle but soon realizes the blade is at his throat and freezes. His pupils thicken with equal parts shock and anger. Shuddering, his body tenses, vibrating in the chair as I let up on the pressure I’ve been applying.
“Where is Sang-Hyun hiding, Hwang?” I ask again.
Meeting my gaze, he holds it, glaring at me with unfocused rage swirling in his depths. Surging from the desk, I loom over Hwang as I place a hand on either side of the chair.
“This is your last warning. I will start removing body parts if you do not answer me.”
“Do your worst,” he spits out.
“Oh, you really shouldn’t threaten me with a good time.”
“Not when it comes to that Sun-ye/Parker chick.” Jack chuckles.
He leans in closer to Hwang. “It’s like she’s got candy flavored . . .”
“Don’t finish that sentence if you value your life,” I threaten.
“See what I mean.” Jack laughs.
Chuckling darkly, my eyes narrow on Hwang, who is watching me closely.
“Parker?” he asks hesitantly.
“What do you know?” The timbre of my voice is pitched so low, if we hadn’t been eye to eye, he might not have heard me.
“Min’s daughter?” he questions.
“What. Do. You. Know?” I reiterate.
“Shit,” he curses, looking away.
“You have all of two seconds to tell me what you know and where Sang-Hyun is before I start slicing and dicing. I’m done playing around. I’ve killed for less and you mean nothing to me.”
Hwang’s body visibly shudders, whether from the threat or the heat of my stare, I don’t know, but his eyes gradually drift back in my direction. Staring into my cold, hard eyes, he swallows, grimaces, and gives a slight nod before resigning to his fate. Backing away from the chair, I gesture for Jack to remove the blade at Hwang’s throat. Unholstering his sidearm, Jack sheathes his combat knife and takes aim at Hwang’s temple.
“Speak, now. And know for every lie or piece of misinformation you give, I will put a bullet in one of your body parts. And once I’ve riddled you with enough holes to make you look like Swiss cheese, I’ll move on to your family, starting with your lovely mother. I’ve heard that retirement is suiting her well, is it not?”
Hwang’s expression hardens, his eyes growing cold as he sneers, “That will not be necessary.”
“We’ll be the judge of that. Now get on with it.” Jack drives the barrel of the gun forward, prodding it deeper into his temple.
Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on me, he declares, “He was not always this way. You must understand, we grew up poor in a small village with nothing. So when she came and offered him a chance to make something of himself, he didn’t think twice.” He stops, swallows again, and proceeds.
“First it was running businesses, then the school, and it progressed from there. Then he got involved with others without her knowledge. That . . . that is when he began to unravel. But it wasn’t until she found him that he truly began to lose sight of who he was.”
“What in the hell does this have to do with Kylee?” The frequency of my voice rises with my irritation. Crossing my arms, I glare down at Hwang, awaiting something useful in his seemingly pointless rant.
“Do you really not know?” Cocking his head to the side, he studies me quizzically.
“Know what?” I bark impatiently.
Blowing out a shaky breath, he runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Sang-Hyun was originally recruited by Min Sun-ye. He was her protégée, she trained him, groomed him like a son. But it was Inna who poisoned his mind. She has been planning to take over the entire Kkangpae. Her plan from the beginning was to wipe out every single one of them and rule it all with Sang-Hyun by her side. Well, it was until your woman showed up. Now she’s the only thing standing in their way.”
Rapidly blinking, I try to process everything that was just said. Inna Sun-ye is trying to kill her family. Sang-Hyun is in league with Inna . . . has been from the start. Kylee is the only one standing in their way. A giant ball of lead settles in the pit of my stomach. Fuck, she could be in danger right now.
There’s no telling the lengths these two will go to. Digging the phone out of my pocket, I step away from the desk, not paying attention to the conversation Jack and Hwang are having as I dial Kylee’s cell. The line rings three times and goes right to voicemail. After several failed attempts, I give up and dial her guard, U-Jin. My heart sinks when his phone goes right to voicemail. I can feel the color draining from my face.
Turning to face Jack, his eyes lift and read the terror I feel deep down to my very soul. Inclining his head toward the door, he says, “I’ve got this. Go make sure your girl is okay. I’ll finish up here and be right behind you.”
Dipping my head in acknowledgment, I turn, fleeing the building like the hounds of hell are on my heels. My torso constricts, tightening with pain as I close in on the SUV. The icy cold fingers of dread leach their way into every cell of my body, delivering their overpowering fear and anxiety directly to my brain. A feeling of impending doom chases me, tailgating my subconscious as I speed toward the other half of my soul. Reluctance clogs my air passage, taking my breath from me. No longer able to deny the deep-seated fear that resides inside of me, I voice it within my mind.
I’m afraid my worst fears may just become my reality. Because, this time, I may be too late.
SANITY IS NOT A WORD I’ve thought much about over the years. However, lately I find myself drawn to the word, mulling it over time and time again, trying to process the bounds of my own sanity and rationalize why I can still hear her voice in my head. Twirling the ends of my hair around my finger, I ponder whether there is anything left to keep the walls surrounding my sanity intact. My heart kicks into a too swift rhythm, bringing an empathic roar to my eardrums. How is it possible in such a short time she was able to set my demon free?
Unleashing the darkest part of me—a part imbedded so deep it could be my own shadow. It probably was my shadow. Sanity, who am I kidding? She likely stole that too. I snort as the thought enters my mind. Behaving and acting in a rational manner is still considered sane, right?
Well, at least I still have that . . . sometimes. Why did I have to let her in, empowering her, giving her the capability of altering my future, my fate, and my life? It was better when I was empty inside, no burning desire to hurt her or her memory, to destroy her legacy or anyone who loves her. Pulling at the ends of my hair, my eyelids close as I allow the pain to take me away for a brief second.
It was better that way, wasn’t it? Hefting a burdensome sigh, I peer out into the night. As the warmth of my breath is exuded, it heats, clouding the window in the frigid night air. Slowly, the white dissipates, leaving behind a clear view of the shimmering stars in the darkened sky. Soft glimmers of incandescent light reflect off the windowpane, capturing my attention. Lowering my heavy lids, I glance down at the rainbow of colors dancing on the front of my blouse.
Lightly tracing the patterns with the tips of my fingers, I’m taken back to a time when things were simpler. A time when things were easier to manage. When there was only darkness to keep me warm at night. Peering at the myriad of colors, I can’t help the small smile that flirts with the corners of my lips. Eager memories stream into my psyche, surrounding my aura with images of a life long since passed. Fusing my lids together, I allow the memories to take me away. Even though it’s only been a few short months, it feels like a lifetime ago.
The first memory nearly stalls my heart entirely. Images of my classroom back in the States pour into my subconscious one after the other. A shard of longing shoots forth, killing my spirit as I foolhardily try to hold onto the images. Internally, I wince, lead filling the lining of my stomach as images continue to loop through on a never-ending merry-go-round. Rambunctious ten-year-olds all talking at the same
time. Friday night dates with Emma.
“Emma,” I breathe out, my chin quivering with remorse.
God, how I hated those stupid date nights, but it was her way of getting out and letting loose after a long week of teaching. How I love teaching and connecting with those bright young minds.
Boom. Boom. Boom. My heart lurches in my chest.
I’ve wanted to be a teacher since . . . Grasping the sides of my head, my eyelids automatically slam shut as I vigorously shake it from side to side. Forcing an inhale through my nose, I exhale rapidly through my mouth. Prying my lashes open, I gaze out at the stars. A large wedge takes root in my throat as the memory prods at the edges of my subconscious. Swallowing several times, I try to dislodge the lump as the image edges its way into my conscious thought. I’d been lying on the floor for days, too weak to move much less speak. I felt like I was hovering between this world and the next—here one moment and gone the next—until her gentle face was hovering over me. Releasing a hesitant breath, I blink, taking in the darkness. The night falters, fluctuating with my blurred eyesight.
Yet, even as my irises begin to sting with force of unshed tears, the vision remains true. In retrospect, she was an angel, the only color in my otherwise dim existence. If it weren’t for her, I would have died that day.
“Ms. Addison.”
Her name echoes in my mind, a wisp on the wind invoking her image. Like a siren beckoning me with her call, the dark of night slowly begins to fade, giving birth to the dank, musky room from my past. Right away, the smells from long ago assault me. The thick stench of blood, sweat, and fecal matter permeate the air. Choking me while they swirl effortlessly around a tiny frame, battered and bruised lying helpless in the middle of the floor. Gagging, I clamp my mouth shut, forcing each breath through my nostrils.
Bracing myself for the inevitable journey down memory lane, I anchor my arms around my midsection. The first wave of agonizing pain from that day sluices over me, inflicting me with its malevolence. I can feel the undeniable tug behind my eyes. The burning pressure as I become lost to my past.
Brimming with anguish, time slows, minutes blending into hours as hours turn to days. Slipping in and out of consciousness, my only companion is the excruciating pain severing every tendon and bone inside my malnourished body, a pain that will go on to torment me for years to come. Whispering a silent prayer to God, I beg him for death. The weariness and pain becomes too much to bare in the silence and stench of the sickly room, a room I once cherished.
Movement registers in the corner of my eye, silencing my inner prayer. The all too familiar sense of fear burrows itself in me as the shadow migrates toward me. Whimpering, I frantically begin searching the room, willing my immobile body to work. Nervous energy expands, decimating any remaining hope I have left as fear triumphs, taking over my rational mind. Twinges of brutalizing pain rock my entire frame as I try to scoot back unsuccessfully. Unable to shake the horrendous thought from my mind, my anxiety rises as the little devil on my shoulder whispers the worst-case scenario in my ear.
Maybe she came back to finish what she started.
A sizzling trail of tears pours from my eyes, rolling down the sides of my cheeks and splashing onto the floor. My ribcage moves up and down with every fast breath being pushed through my nostrils. Why couldn’t God just answer my prayer? Death would have been preferable to her coming back. I wish my daddy were here.
The tears flow faster as his image flashes before my eyes. His bright blue eyes and warm smile. An ache grows deep in my chest with the fact that I will never see him again. Because this time, I know she won’t let me survive. The sound of a sharp inhale breaks my train of thought and has me striving with all of my might to hear who has entered the room. It’s evident by the pitch and tone that the intruder is female.
Her gasp is faint, however, her intake of air is boisterous to my sensitive ears. She moves swiftly out of the shadows, causing me to flinch. Unable to physically move out of agonizing pain, it’s more of a squint than anything. In the dim light, she crouches down beside me, cooing in a gentle tone. Her azure irises flash bright with sympathy in the somber room. My vision blurs in the haze of tears, panic still clouding my sight.
Blinking several times, the mist slowly begins to clear, and for the first time, I see the answer to my prayers—the glowing face of an angel shimmering in the poorly lit room. Azure eyes scour my features with care and compassion. Golden locks of wavy hair cascade down her shoulders, creating a halo of light illuminating her soft angular face. Tears shine brightly in her eyes as she offers me a comforting smile.
“Kylee, it’s Ms. Addison, sweetheart. Can you speak at all?” Her angelic voice wavers, breaking as she glances at my broken body.
Swallowing, I attempt to speak but fail. She places a gentle hand on my forehead, caressing it soothingly.
“It’s okay, honey. Don’t you worry. I’m going to take care of you.”
An unexpected release canters throughout me as all of the tension is suddenly released from my body. Looking around the room, her brow dips in confusion.
“Kylee, I know your father is deployed, but where is your mother?”
All of the tension that had left me a moment ago returns with a vengeance, assailing my tormented body to the point of intense pain. Averting my gaze, I try to hide my pain and avoid her question by staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Patiently, she waits, stroking back my hair in the silence. After a few moments, her angelic voice breaks the tension.
“Kylee?” she says my name as a hesitant question.
Drawn to the light in her voice, my eyes find hers without hesitation.
“I want you to know that I called the paramedics already. They were called the moment I found you. But before they arrive, I have a question to ask you, okay?” She pauses, looking to me for confirmation.
Gulping down a painful blast of air, I try my hand at speaking. “O-Okay,” I croak.
A beatific smile lights up her face. “Good. Now I want you to know that you are not in trouble, okay.” Pausing again, she waits for me to respond.
“O-Okay.” I wince from the fire propelling through my dry, cracked throat.
Giving me a curt nod, she smiles. “Kylee, did your mother do this to you?” Getting right to the point, her tone is expressionless, but her azure eyes are alight with fury as her deep blue eyes stare deeply into mine.
Averting my gaze, I glance back up toward the ceiling. What am I to say? How do I tell her that my mother tried to kill me? At least I think she did. The kind, tenderhearted touch sweeping along my cheekbones surprises me, shaking me from my mental stupor. Finding her bold gaze, I hold it, swallowing several times as she tenderly wipes the tears from my face.
“Y-Yes.”
The words are a hoarse whisper between us, barely audible in the silent room. Ms. Addison’s face twists with first disgust then pain as she tabulates each injury. Her own face is wet with tears as she gently caresses my cheek with her knuckles.
Clearing the emotion from her own voice, she smiles down at me. “Well, not to worry my darling little girl. You and I are going to be the best of friends. I am going to take very good care of you until your daddy gets home. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
The coppery tang of old pennies coats my tongue, forcing me to swallow. How is it that a memory over a decade old can bring me back to that very moment, making me feel like I’m right there all over again? My heart warms at the thought of Ms. Addison. She held true to her word. Remained with me through my hospital stay, visiting daily, even after my dad came home. Her compassion and love for not only teaching but helping children is what made me decide to become a teacher.
A bolt of longing strikes me as I think of my students. The course of my thoughts quickly change as Gavin takes center stage. Biting down on my bottom lip, I cannot help but fret over everything that has led me to this point. Looking back, I can see so much of myself in him. All the signs are there. It’s so difficult not to w
ant to charge in and rip him out of the situation. God, I just hope and pray that Detective McBride has taken care of it. Because if he hasn’t, I swear, I will . . .
“Well, if it isn’t my niece all alone. Can’t say that I’m surprised, you know. It’s not like anyone would actually care to spend a moment alone with you.” Inna’s harsh words interrupt my inner rant.
Keeping an expressionless mask pulled over my features, I turn to face the uninvited guest now taking up precious air in my sitting room.
“Oh goody, an unwanted guest. Please don’t make yourself comfortable. You won’t be staying.”
“You should learn some manners,” she hisses.
“Oh, I have manners. I just choose not to use them with the likes of you,” I say, crinkling my nose.
“How did you get in here, and where is U-Jin?” I demand, narrowing my eyes at her suspiciously.
Inna grins smugly, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the sleeve of her blouse. “U-Jin? He could be anywhere. It is a rather large property after all. You never know what might happen.”
The devious look in her eye sparks a deep-seated anger within me. Automatically, I think the worst, jumping to the conclusion that she’s harmed him in some way. My fists open and close of their own volition, the nails on the tips of my fingers biting into the palms of my hands. An impending storm brews as I close in, taking a dangerous step forward.
“What. Did. You. Do?” I grate out between clenched teeth.
Inna tosses her head back, roaring with laughter. The shrill sound probes, threatening to break through the barrier shattering my eardrums. Locking down the muscles in my body, I tune out the horrendous sound.
Her head snaps forward, the mania running deep in her eyes, targeting me as she taunts, “Why, little ole me? I couldn’t harm a fly much less a big burly man like U-Jin.”
Batting her lashes, she perfects that same simpering smile before continuing. “Besides, I have my ways. You couldn’t keep me out if you wanted to. It’s a lesson you’d do well to learn now. Save yourself the trouble of learning the hard way. I always get what I want.”
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