Chapter 27 Gun
TWENTY-SEVEN
GUN
A COUPLE WEEKS LATER…
Morning light spills into the beachside suite like liquid gold, painting the room in warm hues that contrast the sheer white curtains. They flutter in the breeze, offering sneak peeks of the beach and waves beyond.
It’s early enough that nobody’s out on the sands yet. The only visitors are the occasional seagulls that touch down and then take flight again.
I sit shirtless on my side of the bed, the cool air blowing across my skin. I’ve got my phone pressed to my ear as I listen to Joon-gi’s latest update.
Two weeks have passed since the airport ordeal and our discovery about Elise’s Uncle Jerald. We’ve spent them hiding out on Jeju island, a getaway destination known for its natural beauty.
It’s one of the places in South Korea that the Cheongryong’s reach runs thin.
We’ve more than earned the break.
“How’s paradise treating you?” Joon-gi asks from his end of the line. His voice carries a note of humor in it.
“Better than Seoul. I haven’t been shot at in several days. That’s immediately an improvement,” I answer, glancing over at Elise’s sleeping form tangled in the bedsheets. “What’s the situation back home?”
“Your father’s death is still being handled.
The syndicate is throwing money at the police to keep things quiet—the airport situation and all the other incidents—but you know there’s always a few good cops that want to hold on,” he explains.
“Oh, and… uh, the Cheongryong-je wants to hear from you. He’s asking questions about your loyalty, your whereabouts, your side of the story. Stuff like that.”
I run a hand through my sleep-rumpled hair, the familiar weight of obligation settling back over my shoulders. “And what’ve you been telling him?”
“That you’re grieving. That you need time to process everything. Told you I’ve got your back, my friend. You owe me one American cutie. I take payment in all colors. So if Elise has a sister or cousin—”
“Joon-gi,” I interrupt. “Focus. Stay on topic. What did the Cheongryong-je say in response?”
He laughs lightly. “Oh, right… right! He hasn’t said anything. He’s nodded and accepted the excuse. But you can’t stay away forever, Gun-woo. You know the others are planting bugs in his ear.”
“Let them,” I say with a half shrug and an air of indifference. “We’re not coming back until I say so.”
“I’m not surprised to hear you say that! I’d stay gone too if I were you. Speaking of ‘we’—you have room for one more at that beach suite? I could use a vacation too. The city’s getting claustrophobic.”
I half grin to myself, imagining Joon trying to insert himself into the intimate getaway Elise have been enjoying. “Three’s a crowd, brother.”
We hang up once we’re done catching each other up. I set my phone down and let the morning silence wash over me.
The truth is, I’ve grown to appreciate the slow pace of Jeju and the time Elise and I have been having together. I could easily stay another few weeks.
I glance back at Elise, still curled under the sheets with her thick braids wrapped up in a scarf. Her breathing is deep and even, peaceful in a way I’ve rarely seen since we’ve known each other.
My feline looks like she’s truly been set free.
I slip out of the room without making a sound, leaving Elise to sleep while I pad barefoot into the suite’s compact kitchenette.
I start brewing some coffee and get some rice going in the rice cooker included with the beachfront suite.
The omelets I’m making sizzle in the pan in no time. They’re traditional Korean rolled omelets known as Gyeran-mari. Since I’m limited on ingredients, I don’t bother with the usual veggies or meat, simply sprinkling some sea salt for added flavor.
It’s slow and domestic, the kind of thing I never did before. I was almost never up early enough for breakfast after late nights working for the Cheongryong or partying at clubs.
But it’s become part of mine and Elise’s wake-up ritual.
I’m pouring the coffee into two mugs when I sense her presence. She’s wandered from the bedroom, likely woken up by the trickling coffee pot.
“Just what every girl loves to see,” Elise yawns. “Her man in the kitchen.”
I glance over my shoulder at her, a cocky grin twisting onto my lips. “I’ll cook you breakfast every morning, Goyangi, so long as you do that thing with your tongue every night.”
Her cheeks glow with warmth, the flush spreading to her face. If she were my complexion, she’d be bright red right now.
I love teasing her like this.
Love it even more when she wanders our space in her t-shirt and panties. For obvious reasons like the fact she looks damn delicious so stripped down and on display, bare thighs and curvy hips all within view.
But also because it shows the intimacy we’ve developed. The blushing is part of that too.
“Throw in breakfast in bed and you’ve got a deal,” she quips, entering deeper into the dining area.
“Sit down,” I command, my grin broadening. “I’ll bring it to you.”
She rolls her eyes, both hating and loving when I give her commands. It’s a rarity for a dominant woman like her, which is part of why she seems to secretly enjoy it.
She settles into one of the wicker chairs like I’ve asked, but does so almost defiantly, stretching her limbs like a lazy cat in the morning sun.
I carry over the mugs first and then the plates loaded with rice and the rolled omelets.
“You know, you could learn a thing or two in the kitchen from me,” I tease some more, taking my seat across from her.
“The only time I’m good with knives is when I’m assassinating someone,” she retorts. “Trust me, you don’t want me anywhere near the stove. Not if you don’t want the place to burn down. When every other girl asked for an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas, I wanted a bazooka.”
I pause mid-sip of coffee to laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. My memories are scrambled in my faulty brain. But I vaguely remember my favorite playmate being rough.”
“Funny you say that, because I’ve thought a lot about that time. I still can’t remember you. Not clearly.”
“Childhood trauma does that to you. You must’ve blocked out that whole period.”
“At least you have an excuse. Your accident affects you to this day. How’s your head today?” Her gaze flicks to the barely visible scar along my hairline where my head trauma originated all those years ago.
“Better lately,” I admit, then I grin again. “Probably has to do with nobody headbutting me recently.”
“I’ve apologized how many times for that by now? You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Not a chance, feline. You fought viciously and almost killed me. I’m milking it ’til we’re old and gray.”
“Who chased who though?” she counters, both brows raised. “Don’t start nothing won’t be nothing.”
“Spoken like a true sexy assassin.”
After breakfast, we migrate to the shaded patio that overlooks the beach and sea waves. The cool breeze blows steadily, adding to the scenic atmosphere. We watch the waves crash at the shore, Elise’s head on my shoulders.
“Are you still conflicted about your father?” she asks, her tone pensive.
I let the question hang unanswered for a few seconds as I consider how I feel.
“He always undervalued me,” I say finally, watching a fishing boat sail across the blue waters. “Always treated me like I was mediocre and unworthy of the family name. Like everything I did was a disappointment compared to what Ho-seok accomplished, or what he expected from a son.
“But that didn’t mean he didn’t love me. That was just his brand of love—harsh, conditional, wrapped up in expectations I could never meet. That he couldn’t even meet himself. I think...” I slant my head to meet her gaze. “I can miss him without missing how he treated me.”
Elise’s lips quirk in a small knowing smile.
“I feel the same about Uncle Jerald, even now that I know everything he did. A part of me still misses Unc—the man who taught me how to ride a bike and helped with homework. But I don’t miss the manipulation or the lies or the way he shaped my entire life around his revenge. ”
“That’s the interesting thing about people,” I say. “We all have a duality. And good and bad pieces of ourselves. Some worse than others.”
She nods along. “Probably a little too true for my liking. I keep thinking about my dad and how I knew him as this teddy bear. This loving, fierce protector. But he was a criminal mastermind, Gun. He was one of Korea’s most successful arms dealers.”
“I know. He was supplying my father with them,” I joke darkly.
“I’ve spent my whole life avenging him. Trying to make his death mean something. It was my life’s mission. Unc made sure of it. But you know I’ve never thought about myself. What am I supposed to do now?”
“You’re still you. You were always more than what he made you. That’s the duality of you, Goyangi-ne.”
She sits up from where her head rests on my shoulder and peers into my eyes. “And what about you?”
I shrug. “I’m still trying to figure that out. But I do know I’m not where I started. I care about more things than just partying and picking up cuties in the club.”
“Which reminds me,” she says, laughing. “You and Joon need to work on your pickup lines.”
“Hey, that’s Joon only,” I protest, immediately on the defensive. “I have game.”
She makes a face like she’s humoring a delusional child. “If you say so.”
“I picked you up, didn’t I?”
“Okay, not going to lie,” she admits, biting her bottom lip almost bashfully. “Your dance moves saved you.”
We both burst into laughter at the memory of that first night at Eclipse. I’d spent a good half hour flirting with her at the bar counter.
It was its own game of cat-and-mouse. Banter and one-liners exchanged in the neon-lit club.
She can say what she wants now, but I charmed the hell out of her. Then took her to the dance floor to further lower her defenses.
…while she seduced me to the point I had a fucking erection by the end.