19. Monroe #2
After Jin’s apartment building collapsed and we escaped the scene of the fire, he brought me a few coastal villages over.
Jogae-jip, translated to the Shell House, is a small inn tucked into a narrow cove by the water.
The place is made up of an all-wood interior and only has five or six rooms for guests.
There’s no front desk. Just an innkeeper who greeted us when we pulled up and then showed us to our quiet, private room.
Now, I’m being seen by a man named Dr. Baek Young-dae.
He’s a short, plump man who speaks softly and has a head shaped like an egg.
Jin claims he’s known him for over a decade.
He was once a practicing doctor at a public hospital in Busan before he got caught up in a malpractice scandal that caused him to lose his license.
Jin says he still works often for the Baekho Pa, answering their calls when they need a quick and proficient doctor outside of the legal medical system.
He arrived not long after me and Jin checked into the Shell House. Armed with a leather doctor’s bag that had a red cross stitched across the front and a large oxygen tank, he’s been steadily working on me for over an hour.
“Deep, but clean,” he mutters more to himself than me. He’s cleaned out the gash across my palm, then grabs a needle and thread to stitch it shut.
I’m left to bite down hard on my lip and look away as he pricks away at my flesh.
I’ve never had stitches before. I’m not even a fan of needles or blood.
“There was no sign of infection,” he assures me once he’s done. “It’ll heal soon enough.”
My gaze drops to the jagged, crescent moon stitched across my palm. Blood crusts along the edges before he wipes that away and wraps it tightly up in gauze.
“Keep it dry. Don’t mess with the dressing except to change it once a day. Antibiotics twice a day. If it gets red or swollen or your flesh feels hot—you call me,” he says in a thick accent. “I’ll come, yeah?”
Oxygen mask still pressed against the lower half of my face, I nod obediently.
He looks over his shoulder at Jin, who’s remained relatively quiet. “Yeah? All good, Jin-tae?”
“Her lungs,” Jin says. “Will she be okay?”
“The oxygen is clearing her out,” explains Dr. Baek. He taps the oxygen tank beside the bed. “She inhaled a lot of carbon monoxide. This will flush her out and help her inflamed lungs.”
“Leave the tank.”
“But, Jin-tae?—”
“I’ll cover it in the bill. Tell me how much and it’s yours. What else will help?”
“The smoke did a number on her—both of you. Bronchial inflammation. Mild burns to the throat lining. You’re breathing, but not well.
I’m prescribing steroid tablets. It will reduce the inflammation and prevent respiratory distress.
If you can manage it, steam and hydration should also help.
You’ll be coughing for days. Call me if it doesn’t get better, yeah? ”
I nod while Jin’s jaw sets.
He’s not happy. It’s not about Dr. Baek and his treatment. It’s about… the entire situation.
But he’s not the only one who’s angry. Beneath the layer of exhaustion that weighs me down, I’m furious too.
For several reasons.
“She needs rest and plenty of fluids. You too, Jin-tae. Don’t be too stubborn to take care of yourself like always.”
I’m too tired to ask what he means. He packs up his things and reminds us one last time before he leaves to call with any questions.
The door snaps shut once he’s gone.
Silence fills the private inn room. The first time Jin and I are truly alone since this morning. We were so busy escaping during the fire and then his drive away from the scene that those moments hardly count.
This is the first time we’re faced with each other with no distractions.
I pry the oxygen mask from my face and then reach for the brown bottle of steroid tablets that Dr. Baek prescribed. The pills are large and chalky sliding down my throat. I shudder at their bitter aftertaste.
Jin’s still watching me, hands plunged deep into his pockets. While I’ve showered and changed into a robe the innkeeper provided, he’s remained in his torn and soot-dusted clothing. As if he refuses a moment’s rest until this situation is sorted out.
“I’ve already started looking into it,” he says. “The fire. From what I’ve gathered so far, and from the fire investigation going on, it didn’t start naturally.”
I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. “No kidding.”
He ignores the snark and plunges on. “There’s been eyewitness testimony from one of the residents in my building that he saw a man near a utility box. He didn’t recognize who he was. The fire started not long after.”
“You’re telling me someone set your apartment on fire? Wow, shocker! Not like you’ve made enemies or anything.”
His jaw hardens. “I’m serious, Monroe.”
“So am I.”
“It could’ve been any number of people,” he says, stepping closer. “Anyone I’ve crossed. Any syndicate or gang I’ve had conflict with. But I need time to figure it out. Tonight we’ll stay here. Tomorrow, I’ll move us somewhere else. Somewhere safer.”
And there it is. That word.
Safer.
Any restraint I have vanishes. I snap my head toward him, heat rising through me fast. “Will the cuff be making a comeback, Jin?”
His brows twitch, but I don’t give him a chance to answer.
“Wherever you take me next, are you going to chain me to the wall while you disappear for god knows how long? What next, huh? Your enemies breaking in for a knife attack ? Maybe set off a bomb to blow me up?” My voice pitches higher, ringing with emotion.
“How else are you going to leave me helpless while you’re off handling business for the Baekho? !”
He opens his mouth, then clamps it shut again. His gaze drops from mine and his fingers flex at his sides. His guilt is worn like a second skin in this moment, like he recognizes how right I am even if he hasn’t said it.
“I was securing you,” he says finally. “You know why. I couldn’t risk that you’d run.”
“But you could risk that I’d go down in flames with your damn apartment!”
His eyes flare. “I got you out in time. I would’ve walked through fire to make it to you?—”
“This time!” I scream, the sound ripping from my throat, raw and painful. Hot tears emerge, rolling slowly down my cheeks. “You came this time, Jin! But what about next time? What happens when one of your enemies gets it right and you’re too late?”
I wipe at my face with the back of my unbandaged hand, then give up altogether. The oxygen I’ve taken in no longer feels like it helped as my lungs ache and my breaths sputter out.
“You want me safe?” I murmur. “Stop locking me up like I’m your prisoner. Because I’d rather take my chances out there than die strapped to your idea of security.”
“Monroe…” He takes a step toward me, his body language so stiff and tense I know he’s lost as to what else to say. He doesn’t know what to give me at this moment.
I’m not even sure I know what I want.
After today’s events, I’m simply traumatized and upset.
“Please leave me alone,” I murmur.
Pulling back the covers on the bed with a trembling hand, I crawl underneath and roll over to give him my back. Under the covers becomes my safe haven for the rest of the night.
Not once does Jin argue or disturb me.
As I eventually slip off to sleep, he gives me the space and rest I need.