“Don’t move,” Blain says, standing. “You need nourishment if we’re going to plan.”
One corner of my mouth lifts even though I don’t want it to. I hate that she can make me smile when I want to sulk.
“It’s not much,” she says, placing our re-heated takeout from the other day in front of me. Now that I think of it, this was the last thing I ate. It’s been over twenty-four hours. I snarl down the noodles even though the oil has leaked out after being microwaved. There are only a few pieces of meat left, and I end up popping them in my mouth one after the other without fully chewing.
“Slow down,” Blain says, her eyes huge.
For the first time I notice she’s still in her conservative get-up. It’s a new set of clothes, but still not Blain.
“Wait a second,” I say, “is G.O.—”
Blain bites her lip, brows arched down. Crap, I know that look. That’s best-friend speak for please-don’t-be-mad-at-me.
“Is he here?” I whisper-yell.
Blain slowly nods, giving me big puppy-dog eyes like she’s afraid I’ll kick her.
“What?” I scream. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Shhh,” she hushes. “He sleeping.”
So what? Woon is in danger.
Blain adjusts in her seat, picking at her fingernails. “There’s one more thing.”
I arch one brow, my patience thin.
“He’s the one who dropped Woon off at CSTAR.”
My jaw drops. Why would he do something so reckless? He had to know Woon would get in trouble. “What? Why?”
“Woon insisted,” Blain says. “He told G.O. he would go by himself if he didn’t do it. There was a fight...”
“Are you serious right now?” I ask, raising my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“Jenica,” Blain says, leveling with me. “You get really hangry. I couldn’t talk about this without getting you some food first.”
I laugh, because it’s so utterly ridiculous but so true. Blain was right to feed me first.
“Anyway,” Blain says, “G.O. was hurt. He has a cut on his arm. He only just got away. I brought him back here because I didn’t know what else to do. Hopefully some rest will help.”
“It’s just a scratch.” Blain and I turn our heads to see G.O. standing in the hallway. He’s dressed in a pressed shirt and tailored slacks. Where on earth did he get those clothes? And his hair is all gelled up out of his face.
I sniff instinctively and notice he’s put on cologne, too.
Blain stands, her hands fumbling. “Hyungsoo, I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“I’ve been awake for a while now.” He smiles. “You actually came home right after I finished showering.”
Blain’s face goes bright pink. Was he trying to make her picture him in a towel?
“I see you found your suitcase,” she says, gesturing to his outfit.
What is with this dynamic? There’s so much tension in the room I feel like I’m being squeezed out of a tube. There’s only enough room in here for Blain and G.O.
I stand as well, walking between the two so they break eye contact. That was an uncomfortably long staring situation.
“I believe we have a friend to save?” I say, because I know both of them have forgotten the real reason we’re all together. I wonder how much they made-out while I was gone.
“Right,” G.O. says, popping on a pair of sunglasses. “Let’s go.”
I scoff. I can’t help it. He’s being such a peacock right now. He didn’t even have to display his bright feathers for Blain to fall. I wonder if he knows that, and he preened anyway. Probably.
“Wait,” I say as Blain and G.O. head for the door. “We’re not going in with a plan?”
G.O. smirks. “I’m the plan.”
***
If I felt like a third wheel before, it’s only compounded by Blain and G.O. squished together in the backseat of the taxi. I’m on the far left side with G.O. on the right and Blain between us.
G.O. offered to pay so he wouldn’t get recognized on the streets. I keep hearing Blain snickering, all her attention on him. I have no idea why she’s snickering, but I don’t want to know.
We pull up to CSTAR headquarters, ready to walk right back into the mouth of the tiger. So far, all I know is G.O. is going to offer himself to get Woon out. Because that worked so well last time.
G.O. hands the cabbie some cash. “Stay here,” he says to the two of us. “We need a getaway car.”
Blain nods like she has no problem with that, but I’m not going to back down so easily. G.O. shuts his door and I open mine.
“Stay here,” I say to Blain who reaches out for me when she sees me leaving.
I don’t turn back to see if she follows. I think she’ll listen to both G.O. and me. At least I hope. I hide behind my side of the cab while G.O. stands in front of the big glass doors without knocking. I hear a buzz, and he pushes open the metal plate to gain entry.
Taking off at a run, I hop up the steps and get my fingers between the open doors just in time. They pinch at my skin, and my ankle protests, but my need to save Woon is stronger than my own physical limitations. I’m sure my body will pay for it later, but the nervousness pumping through my veins dulls the pain.
I can’t believe I made it back inside CSTAR. It’s not winning, but it feels like a victory. G.O. takes the elevator, but there’s no way I could wait calmly. I dash up the stairs to the fourth floor to get my butterflies out. I don’t even know if they’re still in Chet’s office, but that’s where instinct tells me to go.
Having made it to the top of the stairs, I take a second to compose myself before I stride to the door and push it open. It doesn’t even stick. No doubt Chet is expecting me.
I’m panting, out of breath, feeling like I’ve run a marathon to get to this point. So when I see everyone, including G.O., sitting around having a civil conversation, I’m confused.
“Jenica,” Chet says. “My prize. So glad you could join us.”
My skin feels oily from the second he says my name. The setting looks casual, but something’s not right. I can feel it in my bones.
Chet points to an open chair. “Please, have a seat.”
I glance at Woon whose head is hanging. Even though I can’t see his eyes, his head shakes. It’s slight, but I feel like he’s signaling me not to listen.
“No thanks,” I say with a smile. “I’d rather stand.”
My legs are trembling, but standing has its advantages in a fight.
“Have it your way,” Chet says, turning his back on me.
G.O. twists in his seat and starts waving his hands, mouthing the word go.
Yeah, right. I just got here. I’m finally in the same room as Woon, and I’m not giving up that easily. I want to move to Woon’s side, but when he lifts his head, I can tell he wants me to stay where I am. I don’t know why, but I trust him.
There are dark circles under his eyes; he looks worse than I feel. Unless I look that bad too. In which case, we’re even.
“You couldn’t walk away, could you?” Chet says, arranging some papers. His tone of voice frightens me.
What exactly is going on here? The lights are dim, most of the illumination in the room coming from the busy city outside the large window.
Chet steps toward me. “It’s good you’re here,” he continues, nodding. “Now I won’t have to come looking for you.”
I stumble back. Me? He wanted to find me? Why?
“You just thought you’d swoop in here and take Woon away?” Chet stops by a side table, his gaze narrowing.
Well, yes. Maybe he’s under a verbal contract, but we can figure that out when we get out of China. I don’t know when I realized that was the only way, but I’m going with him. Screw school—if Woon was willing to give up his career for me, this is the least I can do for him.
Woon is mouthing to me, begging me to run to the door. I don’t want to abandon him, but the more Chet talks
, the more I feel like something bad is about to happen to me. Maybe if I run, Chet will follow, leaving Woon free to escape.
Both G.O. and Woon are signaling to me now. That’s when I notice the broken pen on the table. I’m not sure how that happened, but the verbal agreement is over, which makes me a target again. I take a step back, holding my arm out behind me. My fingers grab the knob just as a buzzing sound emanates from the door. Locked.
“Nice try,” Chet says, a deranged smile on his face.
He’s waving something in his hand. Probably the buzzer that locks the door.
“You can’t leave,” he says, “because I need you.”
Me? What would he need me for? I’m just an average girl who happened to meet someone way out of my league. Someone who likes me too. I can’t say he still will after this moment, but we had our chance.
The elevator dings, and a tall girl wearing a tight, short dress slinks out.
Chet claps his hands, that insane smile plastered on his cracked lips. “Now that we’re all here, the fun can start.”
I turn around and try the knob again. This seems like seriously bad news.
Fingers pinch my shoulders, a guard taking me away from the exit.
“Don’t make me force you,” Chet says. “If I can’t have Woon, he’ll just have to be ruined. Guess who’s going to help with that? You. We might as well ruin his little friend while he’s here too.”
I don’t want to turn around and look again because I can already guess what’s going to happen. This girl is selling her body for money. Creating a scandal big enough for headline material. The headline of the National Enquirer.
I might not know much about foreign pop culture, but I know that Asians are not forgiving of slander. Once a celebrity’s name is ruined, it’s ruined for good.
Video or not, it would be the perfect blackmail for CSTAR to keep Woon in their grip forever. I can’t let it happen.
If I don’t take action, this is the end of Woon’s career, forever.
Standing Up
I can’t just stand here and let this guy take Woon and destroy him. Clinging to the doorknob isn’t going to do me any good. I made the mistake of not taking action once, I will not do it again.
The elevator must still be working because model-girl just walked out of it. All I need is to distract Chet long enough to get out. Which seems impossible. I have to try anyway.
“Ruin, huh?” I say, slowly turning around.
Bodyguard guy, the one with the bandaged hand again, is totally in my personal bubble. I want to throw up with him this close to me.
I narrow my eyes at Chet and lower my voice. “You can ruin him over my dead body.”
I can’t say I know much about self-defense. I’ve seen more action in the past two days than I ever expected to see in a lifetime. There’s one thing I do know: all males have a soft spot―right between their legs. It’s the first place men protect when they feel threatened.
My palm shoots up to the bottom of the bodyguard’s chin first. He catches my wrist before I can do any real damage, but it doesn’t matter―I only did that to distract him from my real goal.
I may have one hurt ankle, but my knee is working just fine. I put all the force I can to crunch his tender area.
He doubles over in pain, stumbling back.
I don’t know what overcomes me, maybe I’ve watched too many action-themed music videos lately or maybe I’m just caught up in the moment, but I decide to throw in a kick to the chest for good measure.
The first thing I do is run to the elevator and hit the button. When I turn around I see Chet bent over in pain, no doubt hit by one of the boys. Woon and G.O. grapple with two other security guards. Woon has one of them by the hair and he pulls the dude’s face down to his knee. I want to scream “Nice one!” but now’s not the time.
The elevator dings, doors sliding open. Model chick has retreated to the corner, curled up against the wall. With Woon’s man taken care of, G.O. and Woon gang up on the last guard.
“Guys!” I yell, facing the doors as I hold them open.
I twist my neck to see G.O. grab a guard and swing him around to face the far wall. Woon gives him a swift kick in the butt and G.O. lets go just in time so only the guard collides with the wall.
The elevator doors keep trying to close on me, but I don’t care if I have to stand here all night. I’m getting these guys out.
Chet is starting to stand, stumbling in my direction.
“Woon, hurry!” I scream.
G.O. and Woon are jumping over the furniture trying to get to me in time, but Chet is closer. He grabs my shirt and tugs me back into the room, causing me to lose my grip on the elevator doors. They try to slip closed, but I keep my leg in the way.
Woon is there. He pulls Chet to his feet and punches him in the face.
G.O. falls into the elevator and pulls Woon in with him. I remove my leg and the elevator is on its way down.
We did it! We’re free from Chet! I wrap my arms around Woon and he staggers into the side of the elevator. “I’m so sorry,” I say, smashing my head into his chest.
For a second, he’s stiff. His hands hang at his sides and his body goes rigid. I don’t let go though, I’m never letting go.
It takes a second, but he melts. His fingers run along my back as he envelopes me in his embrace.
“I’m sorry too,” Woon says. “I shouldn’t have let Chet take you out.”
I put a hand to his chest. “You don’t have to say anything. I was the idiot for letting him.”
“Um, guys,” G.O. says, breaking up our little moment.
The second he speaks, the elevator jerks to a stop. Both Woon and I turn to see what G.O.’s looking at. A little screen has unfolded from the ceiling. It flickers on.
Chet’s there, his mouth a straight line, his eyes serious. He holds up the same button he pushed to lock the door upstairs.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t have control over my own elevator?”
My arms slip off Woon. Does this mean we’re trapped?
“Since you’re so stubborn about cooperating,” Chet says, “I thought I’d throw in another little surprise.”
The screen flickers again, and I recognize the dance room I was first held in. This time Blain is there, tied up in ropes much like I was. Only, she has a gag in her mouth.
“No,” I breathe.
The screen twitches back to Chet. “Nice of you to leave a hostage sitting outside. You owe me a hefty cab fee when this is all over.”
Not Blain. Anyone but Blain. She’s my best friend, and she’s innocent in all of this.
“I’ll give you ten minutes to decide what you’re going to do. Either Woon comes back upstairs and complies with my wishes, or your friend dies. I’m not playing around anymore. It takes ten minutes for the engine to restart. Then your elevator is coming back up my office. See you then.”
My knees give out. It’s an impossible decision. If I let Woon upstairs, he lives a life of torture from the worst company on the planet. Chet will stop at nothing to keep Woon under his thumb. It’s either that or I let my best friend die. Neither one is an option I’m willing to take.
“We have to get out,” I say. “It’s our only choice.”
“And leave Blain?” G.O. argues.
“We can’t do that,” Woon agrees. “I’ll go back upstairs.”
I grip his shirt. “You can’t just sacrifice the rest of your life for one moment. I let you do that before, and I can never forgive myself if you do it again.”
“We’re not letting that girl die,” G.O. says. “Her life is more important.”
Woon pulls me into another hug, and I can hear G.O. sigh. He must be feeling a lot like I did on our way here.
“Just let me do this for you,” Woon says, whispering in my ear.
I push him away. The last thing I want is distance, but he has to understand.
“Listen to me,” I say. “I can save her. You stay here and do
n’t give into Chet’s demands. I’m going after her. It’ll all work out.”
Woon runs his hands through his hair. “How are you going to do that with them watching you?”
Music video knowledge again, for the win. I point to the ceiling. “You’re going to lift me up through there, and I’m going to climb to her. They may see me leave, but they won’t be watching the elevator shaft.”
“No,” Woon says. “This elevator is going to start moving in a minute and you could get hurt.”
“Woon,” I say, grabbing his hands. “I want to be with you.” I confess. I still don’t know his feelings for sure, but I have to tell him mine. “I want be with you for as long as I can. If you give in to him, I’ll never see you again. That would be death for me too.” I whisper the last part, my heart aching.
I don’t know what makes me do it. It must be all the courage swelling in my chest, but I stand on my tiptoes to reach Woon’s lips. It’s one quick kiss, but the meaning behind it is so much more. I’m committing myself to him, if only we can get out of this.
“If he won’t lift you up,” G.O. says, “I will. You’ve convinced me.”
I smile, a blush creeping over my face.
“Plus, I don’t want to watch you two kiss anymore,” he adds.
Woon pulls me in for one last hug. “I trust you. Be safe.”
I’d rather be smashed by an elevator than watch my friends suffer. If this is going to be the end, I’d say it’s a good way to go.
Second Chances
I know I’m running out of time. Chet will no doubt move the elevator the second the engines start up again. I bet he can’t wait to crush me. He’s no doubt enjoying this little game because he’s a sick, twisted man.
I climb up a few rungs until I can no longer hear Woon and G.O.’s voices, and then I pull out my cellphone. The signal is weak, but it’s there. I remember how CSTAR had the police on their side before, so I’m going to use that to my advantage.
120—Beijing’s 911—rings three times before anyone picks up. “Please come quickly,” I say. “A horde of crazy fans has broken into CSTAR Entertainment and they’re holding hostages.”
Kidnapped Idol Page 9