Chapter 9
Ipush through the back door of Wooil’s pawn shop around mid-morning, the satisfying buzz of freedom in my bones.
I managed to make it back to my current apartment last night and crashed hard for ten solid hours.
Showered, changed into my own clothes, grabbed my cigarettes and almost grabbed my phone charger before remembering it will have to be replaced.
I felt like a fucking king sleeping in my own bed again, even if it’s just a shitty futon on the floor.
The bell above the door doesn’t even finish closing before Wooil’s head snaps up and he spins behind the counter. His eyes go wide, then his face cycles through about fifteen different emotions in the span of three seconds—relief, fury, disbelief, more fury.
“You absolute fucking—” He stomps toward me. “Where the fuck have you been?!”
I hold up my hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Don’t you sunshine me!” Wooil jabs a finger into my chest hard enough to hurt. “You disappear for two weeks with zero contact, your phone goes straight to voicemail, and I thought—I actually thought you’d finally gone and gotten yourself killed this time!”
His voice cracks slightly on the last word and I feel a twinge of guilt. Wooil’s been my friend since we were teenagers running scams in Hongdae, and I know my lifestyle gives him gray hairs he’s too young to have.
“I’m fine, see?” I spread my arms, showing off my intact body. Well, mostly intact. The bite marks and bruises from Suha are still visible on my neck and wrists, fading but present. “Still breathing and everything.”
Wooil’s eyes narrow as he takes in the marks. His gaze sharpens, that shrewd intelligence that makes him so good at what he does kicking into gear. “Those are fresh. Or fresher than they should be from your little hotel adventure.” He crosses his arms. “Start talking. Now.”
I sigh and wander over to his mini fridge, helping myself to a can of coffee. “Remember the gangster alpha I may have accidentally bonded?”
“The one you stalked and tricked into knotting you? Yeah, vaguely rings a bell.” Wooil’s sarcasm could cut glass.
“Well, turns out he figured out we’re bonded.” I crack open the can and take a long drink. “And he wasn’t super thrilled about it.”
Wooil goes very still. “Define ‘not super thrilled.’“
“He had his goons chase me down, shot me with a paralytic dart, threw me in his trunk, and took me back to his mansion.” I lean against the counter, keeping my tone casual even though my heart rate picks up remembering it.
“Interrogated me, thought I was a spy for a rival gang. When I convinced him I wasn’t, he decided since we’re bonded anyway he might as well keep me as a pet. ”
The color drains from Wooil’s face. “He what?”
“Kept me in a cage next to his bed. Made me kneel at his feet during business meetings. Used me whenever he felt like it.” I shrug, trying for nonchalant. “You know, standard crazy criminal behavior.”
“Standard—Yujeong, that’s not standard, that’s fucking insane!
” Wooil starts pacing, his hands going to his hair like he wants to pull it out.
“You bonded yourself to a psychopath who kept you in a cage. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be standing here right now and not in several pieces scattered across the Han River?”
“I mean, the cage was pretty spacious actually—”
“I’m going to kill you myself and save him the trouble!” Wooil whirls on me. “How did you even escape? Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid.”
I flash him my best innocent smile. “I picked the lock on the cage when he left for a business dinner, stole some clothes, and climbed out a window.”
Wooil stares at me. Just stares, his mouth slightly open, like he’s trying to process whether I’m joking or not.
When he realizes I’m serious, he makes a strangled noise and resumes pacing.
“You’re going to die. You’re actually going to die, and I’m going to have to identify your body and explain to all of our friends that you got yourself murdered by a mob boss because you wanted to get your ass fucked. ”
“Hey, it was really good ass-fucking though—”
“Not helping!” Wooil points at me accusingly.
I take another sip of coffee, considering this. “I don’t think he’ll kill me.”
“Oh, you don’t think—”
“He’s too fond of my ass now, even if he’d never admit it.” I grin at Wooil’s expression of pure exasperation. “Besides, I’m his bonded. The bond goes both ways. He’s probably just as sexually frustrated without me as I was before I found him.”
Wooil closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, clearly trying to find patience.
“I know, I know.” I wave a hand dismissively. “That’s why I’m laying low for a while. His goons are going to be all over the city looking for me. I’ll probably have to move apartments again, maybe crash with you for a bit—”
“Absolutely not! You are not leading a crazy gangster and his attack dogs to my door!”
“Fine, fine. I’ll figure something out.” I drain the rest of the coffee and toss the can in the recycling bin behind his counter. “Point is, don’t worry too much if I go missing again. I’m probably just chained up in Suha’s basement or something.”
“That’s not reassuring! That’s the opposite of reassuring!” Wooil looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm. “You can’t just casually mention being chained in a basement like it’s a minor inconvenience!”
I shrug.
Wooil stares at me for a long moment, his expression cycling from exasperation to genuine concern and back again. Finally, he just shakes his head slowly and says flatly, “You’re a crazy motherfucker, you know that?”
I grin.
“I’m serious, Yujeong.” Wooil’s voice drops, losing some of its heat but gaining weight.
“Don’t poke the bear. Playing games with someone like Yoon Suha is a good way to get yourself seriously hurt or worse.
This isn’t some loan shark you can dodge or some underground fighter you can outmaneuver.
This is a big time mobster who has the resources and the ruthlessness to make you disappear permanently. ”
He steps closer, lowering his voice even though we’re alone in the shop. “You got lucky this time. But next time? There might not be a next time. He could decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth, bond or no bond, and put a bullet in your head.”
I can see the genuine worry in Wooil’s eyes, the fear for me that he’s trying to hide behind his usual sarcasm and irritation. He knows me better than anyone.
Which is probably why he knows his warning isn’t going to stick.
I laugh, the sound coming out lighter than I feel, and clap him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry so much. I’m just having fun.”
I head toward the back room, already planning my next move. “Now, you got any burner phones lying around? I need to replace mine and I’d rather not use anything that can be easily traced.”
Behind me, I hear Wooil mutter something that sounds like “fucking masochist” and “death wish,” but he’s already moving to dig through his inventory.
I grin to myself. Yeah, maybe I am crazy. But Suha’s pheromones are still lingering in my system, making my skin buzz and my body ache for more. The bond pulls at something deep in my chest, a constant awareness of him even when he’s not here.
And honestly? I’ve never felt more alive.
The next two weeks turn into the most fun I’ve had in years.
Suha’s henchmen come looking for me, just like I knew they would.
They’re everywhere—staking out my gym, lurking around the noodle shop where my friends and I grab lunch, watching the entrance to Wooil’s pawn shop from across the street.
I spot them easily enough. They’re good at what they do, professional and coordinated, but they’re also predictable.
They move in patterns, stick to protocols, follow orders.
I’ve spent my whole life running from people who want to find me, and these guys are just another challenge to overcome.
The first time I give them the slip, it’s almost too easy.
Three of them corner me in an alley near my gym, thinking they’ve got me trapped.
I let them get close, let them think they’re about to grab me, then I vault over a dumpster and scale the fire escape on the adjacent building before they can even react.
By the time they figure out where I went, I’m already two blocks away, laughing my ass off.
But just evading them gets boring fast. I want to make it interesting.
So I start ambushing them instead.
The first pair I take down are watching the entrance to a club I sometimes frequent.
They’re sitting in a black sedan, trying to look inconspicuous and failing miserably.
I circle around through the back alley, pop the trunk of their car, and wait.
When they finally get out to stretch their legs, I come up behind them fast and quiet.
A quick jab to the first one’s kidney drops him, and I catch the second one with an elbow to the temple before he can even turn around. They crumple like paper dolls.
I drag them into the alley, tie them up with their own zip ties, and then I spot a gift shop across the street.
Five minutes later I’m back, wrapping pretty pink ribbons around their necks and tying them into elaborate bows.
I leave a note tucked into the first guy’s pocket: Better luck next time, xoxo.
When they wake up and report back to Suha, I imagine his face and it makes me grin for the rest of the day.
I keep it up. Every time I spot Suha’s men, I turn it into a game.
Sometimes I lead them on wild chases through the city, ducking through markets and construction sites, scaling walls and jumping between rooftops until they lose me in the chaos.
Other times I double back and take them by surprise, knocking them out and leaving increasingly ridiculous notes.
Your boys need more cardio. Try harder.
These two need better training. Disappointing. Do better.