Kidnapped Idol

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Kidnapped Idol Page 8

by Jennie Bennett


  I change the channel to a random show as he hangs up the phone. He’s pacing over by his desk, timing his breathing. I really need to get out of here.

  There’s a knock on the door. I shift in my seat, wondering if this will be my only opportunity for escape. Now that I’ve had some water, I think I could handle finding that video.

  Chet strides past me to let the person in. I’m not sure I could fend off Chet and squeeze through, but I should at least try.

  I stand, inching my way closer to the door, trying to remain unseen. Chet turns the knob and a wave of good smells slam into me.

  One glance at the cart holding the food, and I have to close my mouth to keep from drooling. Meat, dumplings, fruit, eggs, rice, and a few things I can’t identify come rolling in.

  Focus. I have to get out. I can’t worry about the delectable food in front of me. I have to keep my attention on my goal.

  I sneak closer, risking a glance into the hallway behind me. That’s when I spot him.

  Woon, head down, being escorted by two guards. They bring him through the door with the food. Like he’s just another dish on the menu.

  I can’t see all of Woon’s face, but his body posture tells me what I need to know. He thinks he’s been beat.

  “Jenica, come on over,” Chet says, waving to me.

  I try to catch Woon’s gaze, but he won’t look at me.

  I shuffle my feet, unsure of my next move. Do I play along, or start to show my defiance? My rebellion needs to be timed right, or else I’ll just end up bound and gagged back in the dance studio. I have to think. I must be smarter than them.

  As I approach Chet, he puts an arm around my shoulder. Gross. It takes almost super-human restraint to not pick up his hand and drop it off me.

  I want to call out for Woon, but he looks so hurt I don’t know what to do. I try to step out of Chet’s arm, but he locks his fingers into my shoulder―hard. Leaving isn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped.

  “Please, sit,” Chet says to Woon. The guards lead him over to a couch, but Woon doesn’t bend to sit. His focus is straight ahead, to a blank space on the wall. Jaw clamped and eyes narrowed.

  The girl with the cart pushes a button, and the pool table turns over and rises to the height of a regular table, which is pretty cool. I wonder what other secrets this office holds.

  Chet guides me back to my chair in front of the TV, diagonal to Woon, and flips the screen off. “You’re not going to say hello to Jenica?”

  I press my lips together and try to look as small as possible. Woon doesn’t turn his head my way.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Chet says to Woon.

  Woon stands, shoulders back, defiance written on his locked jaw and squared shoulders. Maybe he’s not defeated yet.

  “Tea,” Chet says, standing. “Nothing loosens people up like tea. Please, sit.”

  This time it’s a command. The guards on either side of Woon push him down to the couch. Woon shoves their hands off him and sits forward, back straight with hands on his knees.

  Chet comes back to the sitting area with some plates. “Jenica, what would you like? Steak? Rice? Pot stickers? Chicken? I bought it all for you.”

  The food looks and smells really good, but my hunger is not as important as this situation. “I lost my appetite,” I say.

  Chet laughs, piling food on a plate anyway and putting it on the table in front of me. I don’t touch it.

  “There has to be something you like,” Chet coaxes. He sits next to me, picking up some chopsticks. He roves my plate, until he snaps up a dumpling and holds it next to my mouth.

  Now I’m worried that it’s poisoned or something if he’s forcing me to eat.

  Chet pushes the warm sticky wrapper against my lips. “Say ahh.”

  Woon stands up, and the guards mirror his movements. He reaches across the table and grabs my good wrist, jerking me away and knocking the plate to the floor. In one swift motion, I find myself squished between Woon and one of the guards. Woon puts an arm around my shoulder and holds me close to him, or away from the guard, I’m not sure which.

  Chet puts his elbows on the table, chin cupped in his palms. “So she does mean something?”

  To Woon? No. He’s just being a gentleman. Trying to keep me safe from the bad men.

  “She’s innocent in this,” he says.

  Chet is looking at his nails, picking at a cuticle. “I think you know what has to be done here. I’m not treating her poorly.”

  Woon’s grip on my arm tightens. I’m a little afraid of what’s going through his head. “You’re still holding her against her will.”

  Chet laughs, slumping into his chair. “I think we already went over that when you first came here. You already signed the contract. All you have to do is keep making money. I don’t see anyone losing in this situation.”

  Obviously, Chet doesn’t think kidnapping is a crime since he’s done it more than once now. We have to get that video and free Woon.

  Woon is massaging my arm, gripping and un-gripping as his hand moves up and down. I don’t think he knows what that does to me. Herds of butterflies are taking flight in my belly.

  “Enough,” I say, finding the courage to speak up.

  Woon looks at me, nostrils flared. I know he doesn’t want me in the middle of this, but I can’t stand here and watch any longer.

  “Woon’s not working for you anymore,” I say. “What you did isn’t legal.”

  Half of Chet’s mouth slowly raises in a smile. “I think it is. It’s been holding up in a court of law, anyway.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “We will find a way out of this.”

  “Jenica,” Woon says, his voice next to my ear. “You don’t have to defend me.”

  Don’t I? If nothing else, Woon is my friend. I need to be here for him.

  “Back on that rooftop,” I say, “I made the choice to leave everything behind and run with you. How I got here isn’t important. I’m answering the question you asked me over ramen, and the answer is yes.”

  I might not be walking into an audition and sleuthing my way to the video, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help him.

  Woon nods his head, and then keeps nodding like he’s convincing himself that nodding is the right thing to do.

  “If you let her go,” he says, turning to Chet. “I won’t fight anymore.”

  What the crap? I just told him I’d help. I don’t understand why he’s doing this.

  Chet stands, a satisfied smile on his face. “I knew you’d come around.”

  He makes eye contact with me, and I’m truly afraid. Something was not right with that look. It was more than just a triumphant stare. There was something evil in his eyes.

  All right, so maybe that’s a little dramatic, but there’s a really dark feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about it.

  “Let’s make it official then,” Chet says, clapping his hands together. He goes to his desk, leaving Woon and me alone with the guards.

  Woon turns to me, holding onto my arms and looking me up and down. “Are you really okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. Except for the whole knocked-out-and-tied-up thing, but he doesn’t need to know those details.

  Woon pulls me in for a sudden hug, and I stiffen. “I tried to get you out,” he says. “I’m sorry I failed.”

  Half of me wants to push him away. Tell him to snap out of it and fight for his chance to go back to Korea. The other half of me wants to lean into his hug, put my arms around him and tell him we’ll find another way later. But there is no other way, and I know it.

  Woon pulls back to search my eyes, but I don’t know what to say. He can’t give up his career to save me. I’m not worth it.

  Chet comes over with a single pen in his hand. It has some buttons on the side, and his thumb hovers over one of them. “If you promise into the microphone,” he says, putting the pen between Woon and me so Woon can speak into it.

  Wo
on flexes his jaw, and I try to silently beg him not to do it. I can’t handle the sorrow in his eyes.

  He takes the pen from Chet’s hand and pushes the record button. I feel like I’m being ripped apart, but I don’t know what to do to stop this.

  “I, Nam Woon, promise I will be true to the CSTAR contract as long as Jenica Lee is safely returned to her apartment and left alone for the remainder of her life.”

  My fists ball at my sides, teeth grinding together. How could he do that so casually? I was going to figure this out. I didn’t know how, but if he had given me more time.

  Chet swipes the pen back. “You know this is in your best interest. You’ll make a lot more money―”

  “I don’t care about the money,” Woon snaps.

  Whoa, that’s the first time I’ve heard him raise his voice. He has to be dying inside right now, and it’s because I couldn’t run fast enough. I feel like I’m shrinking into the floor and I’ll disappear if this keeps being the reality.

  Woon, still facing me, takes my hands in his. “Will you let me take her back?”

  I stare in Woon’s perfect deep brown eyes, wishing this wasn’t happening.

  “Don’t think so,” Chet says.

  Woon turns his gaze to Chet.

  “According to your contract,” Chet continues. “Your training is still in session and will last for three months, or however long the contractor sees fit.”

  The words all go through my brain, but none of them absorb. If he’s in training, why wouldn’t he be able to leave?

  Woon grips my hands tighter but doesn’t look at me.

  “Part of training,” Chet says in a business-like tone, “is that you can’t go anywhere without my say. I can look up the exact wording if you’d like me to.”

  “Please,” Woon says, closing his eyes. “This is the last thing I’ll ask for.”

  Chet puts his thumb and forefinger on his chin, looking up at the ceiling. “Hm...how about no.”

  With a wave of Chet’s hand, I’m being ripped from Woon’s grip. He tries to hang onto me, but he’s being dragged away as well. My mind swirls through the possibilities of getting out, but there’s a road block in my brain and I’m stuck. My legs won’t even listen to me, and I trip as they shove me into the elevator.

  If I made the decision to fight, why am I letting this happen? There’s no plan, no hope. If I elbow these two big guys and push another button on the elevator, can I get out? I try looking at the one next to me, but he’s probably six-foot tall and there’s also a bandage on his hand where I bit him. Crap, I doubt he’ll give in that easily.

  I try to backpedal as they pull me into the lobby, but it’s no use. I’m just a weak girl who can’t save the guy she likes. In fact, I compounded his problem.

  Hot, dust-filled air slams into me as the doors open. I have to squint my eyes against the high sun. The guards throw me to the ground, and I twist my still tender ankle.

  Pain vibrates through my bones, opening my almost healed injury afresh. Woon said I saved him, but it was the opposite. If it wasn’t for him, I never would’ve made it home after that day on the Great Wall. He was the one who drove the rickshaw to free himself from danger. I was the one who hesitated when CSTAR came after him, too.

  He’s a complete prisoner, shackled to CSTAR forever because of me. If we had never crossed paths that day, he might have found a way back to Korea to sort it all out. Instead, he can’t do anything without Chet’s say.

  I try to put my feet under me, forget the hurt and push my way back to Woon, but the sting is too much. I end up on the pavement once more. Strangers weave their way around me, staring down at the disheveled mess of a person on the ground.

  That’s all I am. A pile of crap who was too stupid to help Woon when he needed me the most. Why did I have to realize it a second too late? Woon kissed my forehead, didn’t he? He told me he wasn’t too good for me.

  Yet, I suppressed that and pretended like I was nothing more than a piece of chewed-up gum. That’s not what he thinks of me. If it was, he wouldn’t have sacrificed his one passion for me.

  I’m so blind. All this time he’s been pouring his heart out to me. He even tried to stop noticing me the last time we were together in my apartment, but I didn’t see it. As far as Woon is concerned, I haven’t seen anything clearly.

  He likes me, and I returned that affection by abandoning him.

  Pounding Fists

  I can’t just leave. Who knows where the strength comes from, but I stand and ignore the throbbing in my foot. I shuffle my way to the door and try the handle, but it’s locked.

  “Hello?” I call. I have to get in there. Woon has to know how much I care for him.

  I raise my hand and give the glass a rap. “Hello?”

  Woon’s face is centered in my brain, swelling until my head might explode with thoughts of him. I bang harder. “Hello!”

  A girl with a bun at the top of her head walks by, and I rap on the glass faster. “Hello, hello!”

  She gives me one stink-eyed look and hurries away.

  “Let me in!” I call, but she’s gone.

  I stay at the door, face pressed to the glass for what feels like hours. My fist has found a methodical rhythm, and I pound, pound, pound, only speeding up when people walk through the lobby. Each knock is an apology. I’m such an idiot.

  “Miss,” someone says behind me. I turn around to see two police officers.

  “Thank goodness,” I say running toward them. “My friend is in there against his will and I need to―”

  “Riiiight,” one officer says, talking over me. “I’m sure your friend will get your fan mail. Why don’t you come with us, and we’ll get you home nice and safe.”

  Is he saying he doesn’t believe me? “There’s been a misunderstanding,” I say with a laugh. “You see, I really am friends with Woon.”

  The cops exchange disbelieving looks. Crap. I already know how this is going to play out. I’ve been kidnapped enough to know when someone’s going to apprehend me before I get a chance to state my case.

  I give the officers a bow. “Have a nice day.”

  Then I run. I’ve had no food and only a little water. Combine that with a sore ankle and, well, it only takes a few strides before each cop has a tight hold on me. They drag me to their car, but I don’t go easily.

  Why couldn’t I have been raised as a ninja instead of a bookworm?

  ***

  “You’re not under arrest,” the officer says. “We just need you to sit here until your guardian arrives.”

  They’re still holding me without cause, like I’ve told them a million times since I was first shoved into the back of their car. I wonder how much Chet pays the police commissioner for this kind of service.

  When I asked them what my crime was, they said it was stalking. Ha! Chet’s the one who’s been stalking Woon.

  At least I know Blain is on the way. I called her with my one call, and luckily, they let me use my cell. She said she was able to avoid CSTAR, though I don’t know how.

  “Jenica!” Blain rushes in and hugs me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I lie. I just let Woon sign his life away. I don’t think I’ll be fine again.

  Seeing Blain triggers everything I’ve been holding in. She looks as tired and ragged as I feel. She’s been through a lot too. I have no idea how she got away after the guards came, but I’m glad she did or else I’d be alone here forever.

  She really is the best, how could I lie to her? I cover my mouth and shake my head, begging the tears not to come.

  Blain takes a seat next to me and strokes my hair. “It’s okay,” she says. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  I fall into her arms, and she squeezes me tight. “Why do I have to like him?” I say.

  It wasn’t like I was planning on falling so hard so fast. It hasn’t even been enough time to know if it’s real. Yet, we’ve made an impact on each other’s lives. That’s not something you can ju
st wish away.

  “I know, hon, but you can’t help it.”

  I bury my head in her shoulder. “He recorded a verbal agreement for those people. I don’t know if he’ll ever get out.”

  Blain holds me at arm’s length. “He did what?”

  I shake my head. “Not here. Let’s get back to the dorm first.” I figure we’ll be safe there. Even if CSTAR knows the location, they got what they wanted, and they’re not coming after me again.

  We’re out of money, so we have to take the metro back to the dorm. I keep quiet as we wander the streets to the closest stop. I’m walking blind, half hoping someone tries to rob me so I have an excuse to be injured. All I want is to lie down and let the people trample me. It’s all over. Woon is stuck at CSTAR with that twisted man. I can’t believe I didn’t fight him when I had the chance.

  My eyes burn as I try to keep them open on the train. My stomach keeps reminding me I haven’t eaten all day. I let it growl—it’s the best punishment I can give myself.

  Blain barely closes the door to our dorm when she pounces on me. “I want to know the whole story.”

  “Hang on,” I say, because I need to gather my thoughts. I set down my phone and my wallet, taking a deep breath. “My plan,” I start, voice cracking, “was to find the video showing Woon’s forced signing. But that backfired because I stood there like I was incapable of humanity instead of helping him.”

  Blain guides me to the kitchen table. She plops me down in a chair and takes the seat opposite me. “You did nothing wrong. I ran away. I hid. I watched them drag you into that van and I did nothing. I’m your best friend, and I did nothing. It’s normal to be afraid.”

  Tears well in my eyes, and I cover my face to sob. “But doing nothing cost Woon his career in Korea. I can never expect him to forgive me. I’m just a fling, but his career is his life. He’ll have to work for that monster forever.”

  Blain bangs the table, startling me. “I stayed away because I figured I could do more for you from the outside. Form a plan at the very least. Now that we’re together, we have an even greater chance of saving Woon.”

  It makes sense, but I’m not sure we can do anything. That was a live-in-the-moment sort of thing.

 

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