More like a job found me, I want to tell her. “I still have my morning job,” I tell Joolie the partial truth. I wish for the subject to be more about them and less about me. I turn to Tailor who is always a fresh air of diversion. “What about you?”
“I’ve been sending in my resume. I think I will try my luck with the major hotels and see.” Tailor shrugs with nonchalance. “I still have some money in my savings, so I’m not exactly in a hurry to find one.”
Joolie makes a face at him. “Lucky bastard.” She finishes her glass and holds it up to Tailor. “Can you pour me another one, dear?”
Absentmindedly, I take another sip of my drink. I am lost in thought as Tailor refills Joolie’s glass.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Tailor says with sentiment. He hands Joolie her drink, and then folds his face into the palms of his hands. Tailor’s eyes are bright and nostalgic. “This place has been good to me for the last three years.”
Joolie makes a face at his comment, but she doesn’t negate it. Instead, Joolie throws finishes more than half of her newly refilled glass. “Me too. The bastard who bought it seems to want to break it down and rebuild it into three stories.”
“Who?” The question escapes my lips before I can help it.
“The new owner. I saw him earlier. Handsome jerk.” Joolie has her face in her hands now, mirroring Tailor’s body language. “I saw him talking to Naili early in the morning when I was here. He came striding in with executives coming out of his armpits. I basically caught the gist of their conversation about breaking down the halls and building here and there and everywhere.” Joolie makes an exaggerated hand motion in the air.
So the new owner is definitely not Choi Sangwoo. He was with me all morning. Or it could be someone working for him, my intuition chimes in. I strike her down as fast as I can. I don’t need any more reasonable doubts to play with my judgment at this point. I take another sip of my drink and place it back on the counter.
“I’m going to go home. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“So soon? Stay and have another drink.”
“I can’t. I’m really tired. Sorry. Next time.”
“Ok. Good night.” Joolie waves to me. She almost tips over in her barstool. Fortunately, Tailor catches her and winks at me.
“Bye Joolie. Stop drinking.” I tap her arm playfully and wave goodbye to Tailor.
“Bye,” they reply together in a chorus.
I exit The Trax and the cool summer air greets me. Taking the steps two at a time, I am back on street level in a matter of seconds. I look forward to silence and my bed; nothing but silence and my warm bed. I start digging through my tote bag when I hear the distinctive call.
“Hey.”
The voice startles me. I see two men loitering just a couple of feet away near the adjacent abandoned building. The apparent greet is not for me. Instead, it is one of them alerting the other of my presence.
Immediately, I mentally picture myself featured on one of those shows where a deep male voice narrates the dramatization of my abduction. Maybelline Lee, a 21-year-old college with a bright future, was innocently leaving work when two attackers grabbed her from behind, dragged her to their unmarked car, and drove away in the night . . . .
My imagination manifests into reality when one of the bigger males walk forcibly towards me.
Shit. Run! My intuition screams and I embrace her, sorry for knocking her down earlier. I swallow hard and tighten my grip around the strap of my tote bag. I tuck my chin into my neck and pick up my pace in the other direction.
“Hey!” Now, the male is addressing me.
“Leave me alone!” I blurt out. I start to run. The blood rushes in my veins and I am all physical at the moment. Run! Run! Run!
“Stop!” One of them shouts. The sounds of his shoes thundering after me echo in the abandoned alley.
Before I know it, I am running full speed towards the street. The fight or flight syndrome is kicking in my veins. I am only five feet away from public view. My hands dig frantically into my tote bag for my cell phone. Their footsteps ricochet behind me, increasing in sound and momentum. I turn my head to see the two men running full speed at me. My mind is desperately trying to remember how to disarm attackers.
“Stop!”
“Who are you?! What do you want from me?!”
Before I can run any farther, the two males flank me. They tower over me as though I am merely a simple object. I am no match for their physique and training. The incredible force they use to lift me off the ground knocks my breath away. I attempt to get a good look at them, but the male to my left holds me in a tight grip.
“Let me go!” I start screaming as I thrash my body to the far right.
One of my attacker’s places a hand over my mouth to silence me. I snap my jaw at his hand only to realize that I am biting into a hefty white cloth. The powerful chemical permeates from the fabric. When I realize what it is, it is too late. My nostrils have gotten a good whiff and the chloroform travels through my senses.
With quick movements, the two males drag me towards the black car parked on the cross street.
“Hmm! Let me go!” I fight with all my might; my arms are dangling in the air as though I am a rag doll while my legs kick space.
They are too strong. My attackers are wearing strategic black ski masks. How original, my intuition cries.
“Nooooo . . . .” I continue struggling. The colors in my eyes fade to black, and my eyelids feel as though a large rock sits on them. All of my extremities fail me. A deep sense of calm washes over me and my limbs numb.
The last thing I see is the back doors to the unmarked car opening. My attackers usher me in. When my body touches the seat, the darkness takes over me.
I sink deeper and deeper into the overwhelming obscurity, into the silent abyss.
THE FIRST SENSATION I FEEL when I regain consciousness is the crick in the left side of my neck. The responsiveness of my arms and legs come next, follow by a dry throat and pounding headache. Fortunately, the heaviness on top of my eyes lift and my facial muscles relax.
The car slows to a stop. The soft hum of the engine reverberates throughout the back seat. It’s pitch black outside; a stream of wind leaks between the window and its quarter top.
When I attempt to move from my seat, I realize my wrists are tied together with a plastic wrap in the manner of handcuffs.
“She’s waking up,” A gruff voice announces. The kidnapper stirs to the right side of me. The male to my left mirrors the same movement.
The colors of my vision focus in a tunnel manner. The smell of the car’s leather interior is robust. The leather seat burns against my skin. When I attempt to sit up, I am immediately under the control of my kidnappers. Again, the male to my right places an arm on my shoulder to prevent any range of motion.
Shit! I’ve been kidnapped! All human concerns and worries flood into my consciousness. Fear, panic, and confusion set in fast and hard. I am dizzy and nauseous. I need to come up with a quick escape plan, or at least call for help.
In a matter of seconds, the car comes to a complete stop. The doors open in a simultaneous manner, and the tap on my shoulder indicates it is time to get out of the car. The kidnapper to my right ushers me out first. Every inch of my body aches. My mind’s still trying to catch up with the present. I feel as though I am indefinitely stuck.
With my wrists tied in front of me, my balance is hardly stable as I stumble out of the car. I squint at the unfamiliar territory, even though it is dark outside. The location is very scenic; large overgrown trees and boulders line the aesthetic terrain. I only have a few seconds to take the location in until reality reminds me why I am here.
“Walk.” The taller kidnapper pushes on my side.
“Who are you?” I look up at him and ask with a coarse throat. “What do you want from me?” I look at the other kidnapper.
They don’t answer. The kidnapper to my left inclines his head as though he wan
ts me to shut up.
“This is a crime. It’s a felony to kidnap someone,” I snap at the kidnappers. “When I get out of here, I’m going to make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison!”
“Shut up!” I finally get a response from the taller kidnapper. He holds up a hand to slap me.
I flinch and lean to my left.
“Keep your mouth shut before you really do get hurt.” The stern voice of the second kidnapper gives me some hope. He sounds as though he wants to correct my stupidity before it gets me in more trouble.
I jerk my arm out of his grip, but oblige. A million escape plans circle my mind. Who would do this to me? What do they plan to do to me? How am I going to get out of this without getting hurt or hurting others in the process? My legs ache to break free from the invisible pull my kidnappers have on my heels. I want to turn around and run in the opposite direction as fast as my leg muscles will let me. But I know that the chances of successfully completing my escape plan will be slim to none.
I tuck my chin into my neck as a defense mechanism. I follow my kidnappers around the bend of the rocky area with blind obedience. Soon, the dirt path fades into patches of grass. The large trees that surround the area give the impression of a park. However, as the pathway elevates, the patches of grass disappear.
Just when I think the hike will never end, at the tip of the elevated plateau stands an abandoned warehouse. Its dark wooden structure looms over the stretch of land we are walking on. Two guards, wearing the same identical ski masks as my kidnappers, flank both sides of the door.
The guards nod at my kidnappers when we approach the threshold. Together, they step aside to reveal a heavily armored door.
“Go in.” The kidnapper to my left pushes me forward.
“Don’t touch me!” I snap at him. But I force my feet forward into the warehouse. Oh God, we’re going to die. My conscience is bawling while my intuition holds her. I want to join them.
Dimly lit, the warehouse includes large, towering shelves displaced throughout the vast layout. Boxes, comprised of different shapes and sizes, align in an unidentifiable system. In many ways, the warehouse looks like the stereotypical setup of an illegal business that many movies portray. However, the reality of my situation becomes apparent when I look up at the ceiling. Large dangling chains, fastened with metal spikes, swing from its height. It reminds me of a torture device designed to hang its victim by the arms and possibly neck.
As I continue my trek deeper inside the warehouse, it becomes obvious that this warehouse has dual roles. Not only is it home to illegal transactions, but it also houses a torture chamber. Aside from my footsteps and those of my kidnappers, the echoes of running water surround the warehouse.
“Maybelline Lee. 21-years-old. Born and raised in Seoul, South Korea. Currently resides with Lee Eunhye at East Point, and studying psychology at Seoul University. Works at Sansachun and The Trax. Daily schedule repetitive and dull as a snail making its trek across the grass.”
His voice permeates the silence of the warehouse. It stops me along with my kidnappers. We are now at the center of the warehouse.
I stare at him when he comes into focus. His men flank his right and left side. Today, he is wearing casual blue jeans and a white dress shirt. As usual, his hair slicks back from his face, revealing its marred features.
I am speechless and spellbound. The weight of my involvement with loan sharks, more specifically gangs starts to sink in. It doesn’t get more real than this. Shit, not this guy again! My intuition gapes at him.
“What is your real relationship with Choi Sangwoo?” Danny asks me. Danny narrows his eyes in the same obtrusive manner when I first met him at Spyder’s house. Just like when I first met him, Danny is relentless and merciless.
“Excuse me?” I ask, not bothering to disguise the bewilderment in my voice. They went through such lengths to kidnap me here to verify this question again?
“Answer me!” Danny shouts. The echo of his voice bounces from one end of the warehouse to the next. His fists clenches together with his unforgiving eyes.
“I-I don’t know him,” I answer, but immediately retract the statement. “Let me rephrase. I do know him. He’s my Boss.”
“Your Boss? So your Boss picks you up from work, takes you to his hotel, and allows you full access to his company?” Danny questions further. The smirk on his lips lets me know my lie amuses him.
“Are you following me? Who are you?” I blurt out in irritation, forgetting that my life is in the hands of this guy. He’s an aggressive stalker.
Danny’s jaw clenches together. His face remains frightening underneath the warehouse’s lights. “Are you his girlfriend?”
“N-no,” I reply. It has only been a few days since I have seen him, but the fear is still there. I don’t know how else to calm Danny down. He is clearly upset that I am lying to him. He’s convinced I have a relationship with Sangwoo.
“I didn’t know you’re Choi Sangwoo’s type.” Danny ignores my answer. With his hands behind his back, Danny begins walking in circles around me.
What’s that supposed to mean? I move away from Danny, becoming rapidly aware of what I can do to stop him from harming me. But the odds are not in my favor since my kidnappers are still in close proximity. I realize with a faint glimmer of hope that no matter what, I will not be able to escape so easily.
“Well, if you’re so close to your Boss then I am sure he won’t have a problem helping you pay back your loan.” Danny reaches for my chin suddenly. His hands are cold and sharp.
“Don’t touch me!” I move away from him. The hot glare flashes in my eyes. “Mayhem and I agreed that I will be paying the money back on Saturday.”
“Is that so?” Danny sneers at me. “You dare mention my Boss?”
“Why wouldn’t I? He’s more reasonable than you. You were there, fool.” I am heated and livid. Perhaps it’s the Gin and Tonic fueling my system. Liquid courage is a dangerous weapon.
“Fool? I don’t think so little girl.” Danny grabs my right arm and pulls me under his control. He narrows his eyes at me as I struggle in his grip. “You have no idea what kind of world you have stepped into, little girl. Promises and dates mean nothing when it comes to people like me who have the power to enforce it.”
Danny pushes me away from him. Danny reaches inside his pocket, and for a split second, I think it is for a gun. It turns out to be an unmarked cell phone. Danny thrusts it towards my direction. “Call him.”
“What?” My heart picks up another fraction of a beat.
“I am tired of your smart mouth.” There is malice in his tone. Danny thrusts the phone into my trembling hands. “Call him. Your Boss. Choi Sangwoo. Tell him to meet you at The Rock with thirty thousand dollars. Now.”
The number is already on the screen of the cell phone. All I have to do is press the green button. For a moment, I consider dropping the phone and running for my life.
“Call!” Danny screams, shattering my guarded thoughts. “Fucken call him!”
“Okay, okay.” My trembling voice exudes my fear. With shaking hands, I hold up the phone and press the green button. I have no choice but to do this. I have to get out of this.
The phone rings for three intervals before Sangwoo picks up. “Hello.”
My heart races at the sound of his voice.
“Sangwoo, it’s May.” My palms are sweating; my throat is dry.
“May? This isn’t your phone number,” Sangwoo states with apprehension.
“The Rock,” I blurt out. “I’m at The Rock.”
“The Rock?” Sangwoo’s voice cuts short. Then, the alarm takes over his otherwise calm tone. “How do you know about it? Shit. Are you okay?”
“I–” I attempt to discreetly tell him, but I know nothing I can say will reflect what is really happening. The desperation catches in my throat and I am useless.
“Give me the phone.” Danny snatches the phone from me, clearly impatient with my hesitation. “I
got your little girlfriend with me here. You will be here in fifteen minutes with thirty thousand dollars, cash.”
My heart drops at Danny’s statement. His body language, his voice, and his eyes express his semblance–I know I will eventually die. I swallow the dry saliva scratching against my throat.
“If you’re not here in fifteen minutes, I think you’re creative enough to imagine what will happen to your little girlfriend.” Danny shuts off his phone. A sickening smile comes across his lips. “You see, it is a cruel world out here. You probably grew up thinking if you just kept to yourself, go to school, go to work, do the right thing you can make it safely.”
My eyebrows come together in question at Danny’s rant.
“Little did you know that by making one friend, you could put your whole life in jeopardy.” Danny stares me to the ground. Then, he makes a face that claims an epiphany. “Ah, but your luck would have run out anyway because your cousin and her useless boyfriend borrows money from us. Dang, you’re screwed either way.”
I grind my teeth together. The anger, along with fear, courses through my veins. I feel powerless and am on the verge of doing something truly stupid. If there’s one thing this lowlife is right about it, it’s that this world is too cruel. I have made myself the victim through and through in this situation. I don’t want to be a damsel in distress waiting for the gang prince to come save me. I want to be able to be self-sufficient. But my throat tightens and the overwhelming feeling of my reality tackles my emotions to the ground. I want to cry because of the shock of all this. I want to cry because I know the impending violence that may erupt when Sangwoo arrives. I want to cry because I know no good can come from this.
Suddenly, there is commotion outside of the warehouse and I know Sangwoo is here. A flood of activity, including loud voices and footsteps, can be heard just outside of the warehouse.
“Don’t touch me.”
April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions Page 26