Chapter 17 Elise #2
When you’re in hiding from a mafia syndicate that rules the country’s biggest city, you have to be careful about showing your face in public. For that reason, over the next few days I keep a low profile.
Gun does too—at first through his excuse about being hungover and then claims he’s fallen ill with a stomach bug. He only returns to Cheongryong business sparingly, making mandatory appearances to show face and to ensure his crew is running smoothly.
I spend my time strategizing and keeping not only my brain active but my body. I train for what could be to come, using the wide open space of the loft to practice moves and sharpen my skills.
When Gun comes home and finds me in the middle of an airborne roundhouse kick, he stops in his tracks and grins.
“I knew you were taking it easy on me, Goyangi-ne,” he teases.
For dinner, Gun takes the lead, once again demonstrating his prowess in the kitchen. He makes a range of dishes like spicy ramen, grilled pork belly, bulgogi, and even kimchi rice bowls.
It feels awkward at first letting this man I’ve vowed to hate cook for me. But Gun being Gun makes it feel like the most natural thing imaginable once he gets in the kitchen and shoots me his trademark cocky grin.
My stomach flutters, and he pulls me toward him and tells me how I’m going to be his assistant.
“And you’re going to be a good girl and do what I say,” he growls into my ear, standing from behind. He spanks me on the ass and makes me jump.
The shock fades quick enough that I glare at him. He merely laughs and tells me he welcomes any payback.
“You know that’s our foreplay, Goyangi-ne.”
I should be pissed. As I peel the garlic cloves, I tell myself to be. But then I’m laughing the next moment when Gun turns music on his phone and starts singing to Bruno Mars.
“That… just might be the most off-key rendition of 24K Magic I’ve ever heard.”
“Now you know why I was absent from karaoke night.”
“Which was brutal. Some of those performances were downright torture.”
“Did they make one of the Jeokpa’s cosplay Cher again?”
Another unexpected laugh slips out of me. “How did you know?”
“I’ve attended enough of them. Be grateful you didn’t hang around for the mooning phase.”
“You mean…?”
“That’s exactly what it sounds like. Drunken soldiers on the stage slurring to a pop song with their asses out. The poor lounge girls have to clean up their mess.”
We have dinner at the table in the dining area and find ourselves in conversation that flows naturally. Gun tells me about his early years in the Cheongryong. The things he had to do to make rank and prove himself.
“I wanted no endorsement because of who was my father. Not that he would’ve given it anyway.”
“I just don’t get how he treats you the way he does. You’re the son who followed in his footsteps. Shouldn’t that count for something?”
“Not when you’re the bastard son.”
“But you weren’t. You said your mother and he—”
“By Korean standards, it’s still uncouth. It’s considered bad form,” he interrupts. “A prostitute does not make a proper wife or mother, and my father considered it one of the worst mistakes of his life.”
“He should probably be grateful to have a son that still talks to him after all the bad treatment.”
“I’ve wondered why I do. I guess some things are hard to let go of. No matter how many times he denies me, a part of me will always want his approval,” he explains. His knee nudges mine under the table. “And what about you, Goyangi-ne? Do I get to know about your family?”
“I’ve told you the most important part,” I answer cryptically.
Then a small voice in the back of my head reminds me there’s so much more I could share.
That Gun has opened up to me about things, and maybe…
for once I should too. I set my chopsticks down and tell him what first comes to mind.
“It’s hard to talk about my parents because I lost both very young. ”
“Your father…”
I nod so that he trails off and doesn’t finish his sentence. “And my mother left when I was young. Kind of like yours. She and my father had been having issues for a while—or that’s what Uncle Jerald has said.”
“His lifestyle?”
“My father was in the military. He went from that to… to some kind of armament dealing with crime gangs.”
“Like the Cheongryong.”
“My uncle was around when it all went down. He said my mother gave him an ultimatum. You can guess what he picked.”
“But she left you?” he asks. “That’s unlike most mothers. Most mothers would take their children with them even when they leave like that.”
“Trust me. I’ve spent my whole life wondering why my mom abandoned me.
Why she thought it was okay to leave her daughter in a situation she herself didn’t want to be in.
” I sigh glumly, an ache I’ve long ignored deepening.
“The best I can come up with is that… she wanted to start fresh.
Without the baggage of a husband and kid to weigh her down.
“She got to leave us in South Korea and go somewhere else where she could start a new life and pretend we never existed. Uncle Jerald raised me along with my grandma on my dad’s side. She’s never bothered to reach out again.”
“Have you looked for her?”
“Out of curiosity. Me and Unc did years ago. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted out of it—if I wanted to tell her off or maybe form a relationship. But I never went through with reaching out. She lives in Virginia now. Married, two kids.”
Gun shakes his head, his expression a solemn reflection of what I feel on the inside. “You’re probably better off without a woman like that for a mother.”
“I’d like to think so too. But it doesn’t make it…” I drift off, my urge to shut down returning. I fight through it, reminding myself it’s just me and Gun. That he’s experienced the same as I have. It’s safe to continue. “It, um… it doesn’t make it hurt any less… you know?”
“Yes, Goyangi. I do. I know exactly what you mean.”
We spend the rest of our evenings either being lazy on the couch or being over productive, doing more planning and strategizing.
There’s little in between. If we’re not binge-watching a new TV show or having a movie marathon, we’re in the trenches of our plotting against the Cheongryong.
Every so often, I question if Gun is serious. If he’s really ready to go against his own syndicate. I can’t wrap my head around how he could possibly do it when he’s risking so much. I wonder if I can truly trust him.
But then his eyes connect with mine, and I get a shiver down my spine. I see the sincerity for myself and hear the conviction in his voice.
Feel his kiss and his touch.
And then I’m left confused how someone could be lying if things feel so real…
It seems like the only way I’ll know for sure is to find out in time. A thought that terrifies me to my core. I’ve never trusted someone as explicitly as I’m trusting Gun.
I can only hope it’s not the worst mistake of my life.
“Again,” Gun growls, circling me on the loft floor. We’re both barefoot, slicked with sweat, huffing air into our lungs.
We’ve been at this for an hour—sparring, training, pushing each other like we’re preparing for war.
…which we basically are if the two of us are going up against the Cheongryong.
His promise still hangs in the air between us:
I’m with you on your quest. If you say it was the Cheongryong, then it was the Cheongryong. And if you say it was my father, then we’ll hold him accountable too. Okay?
It’s hard to doubt Gun when he sounds so sincere, so damn earnest.
I believe him when he says these things. And I trust him even more as we spar together.
So I throw myself into the fight, battling Gun as if he’s still my enemy.
I feint left, then drive my knee up toward his ribs. He blocks, but it doesn’t matter because I’m already following up with another move. My elbow flies out for a strike to his throat. He catches my arm and twists, spinning us around.
Suddenly my back is to his front and I’m at his mercy. We’re breathing even harder, bodies pressed up against each other, the tension rising.
“Yield?” he pants, his breath warm against my cheek, his grip tight on my arm.
“Never.”
I hook my leg behind his knee. We both go down hard, rolling across the hardwood with arms and legs entwined.
I end up on top, pinning him down, my thighs bracketing his hips. We’re peering into each other’s eyes, faces inches apart.
“Yield?” I breathe.
The corner of his mouth quirks, dark almond-shaped eyes gleaming. “Never, Goyangi.”
He bucks his hips and flips us, reversing our positions with relative ease.
Now he’s the one pinning me, his muscled weight pressing me into the floor, one hand clenching my wrist.
The tension rises, the heat intensifying. It feels like we’re in a room that’s been set on fire instead of two fierce fighters facing off.
“You’re getting sloppy,” he teases. “You should’ve seen that reversal coming a mile away.”
“You’re getting cocky,” I shoot back, pulse hammering in my throat. “You think I don’t have any options, Rhee?”
I could wrangle my way out of this; I could flip the script on him again and score another point.
But as we hover inches apart, his gaze drops to my mouth. Lust pools low in my belly, melted by the heat between us.
I make a snap decision, arching up to kiss him.
Gun’s ready for me, clearly the same thing on his mind. He meets my lips with the same kind of aggressive intensity he’s fought with.
The result is a kiss that’s frenzied and desperate. It’s mouths open and tongues thrashing. It’s us entering into the next round of our sparring.
Gun produces a thick sound low in his throat and releases my wrist to grab my face, kissing me like he’s been starving for it.
Like he’s been ravenous for a taste of me.
I feel it in how he presses his lips press against mine. How he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and ravishes me like only he can.