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The third rule is the grimmest of all. If I try to escape, he’ll kill me. That one, he says with no hesitation, his tone as hard and severe as granite.

He provides me with a few pieces of clothing. All fitted for him. Oversized for me. Shirts and hoodies that fall to my thighs and drawstring pants that slide right off my hips. Everything of his swamps me.

I walk around the apartment looking like I’m playing dress-up with a gangster’s laundry.

On the first day, I notice he barely leaves the apartment. He doesn’t trust me. He’s always within earshot, sitting with a book or fiddling with his phone by the window. With how small the place is, I’m pretty sure I drive him halfway to madness just by existing. Or rather, by asking so many damn questions.

“Where did you get that scar on your eyebrow?”

“Have you always lived all the way out in Gijang-gun?”

“What happens if someone finds out I’m here?”

“How many tattoos do you have? Have you ever counted?”

Eventually, he spins around from the kitchen counter and pins me with a cold, forbidding stare. “New rule. Three questions a day maximum. Make them count.”

He’s dead-ass serious.

When he finally does leave later that afternoon, he reveals a cuff and chain tethered to the bottom bar of the radiator. The chain is long enough to allow me mobility around the living room and the kitchenette, but not the rest of the apartment.

I watch as he snaps the metal cuff around my right ankle and shoves the key into his jacket pocket.

“Are you seriously chaining me while you’re gone?”

“How else will I keep you here?” he asks. “Remember rule three. You run. You die.”

I yank my foot, the chain clanging as it sways. “But what happens if I have to pee?”

He shrugs. “Then make sure you use the toilet before I leave. Or piss in a bottle. Here’s one. Your call.” He grabs the water bottle that’s resting on the edge of an end table and hands it over to me like I should be grateful.

“Women can’t do that! It’d get everywhere.”

“Sounds like it’s option one then.”

They’re his parting words as he walks out the door and the lock clicks into place.

On day two, I ask if I can pick up a few personal items like tampons, face wash, a hairbrush and other items like hairpins, ties, and moisturizers so I can at least care for myself.

He doesn’t respond right away, focused on his phone. “I’ll pick up what you need. Write it all down on a piece of paper.”

He’s gone for longer that afternoon. He could be genuinely busy, but something tells me he’s trying to avoid being stuck home for long stretches of time now that I’m here. The petty part of me finds it hilarious I’ve driven him from his apartment.

I giggle imagining him wandering the aisles of some drugstore, trying to pick out the difference between regular and heavy flow tampons, a scowl fixed onto his face.

That night, it’s dark out before he makes it home. I’m so bored, I’ve raided his book collection. It’s an impressive one, including both classic English titles as well as traditional Korean literature.White Shadowby Yi Sang catches my eye, and I prop it open.

I’m curled up on the futon couch when the apartment door swings open and Jin steps through looking as intimidating as ever in his tattoos and leather. He shakes some hair from his brow and fails to hide the surprise in his expression.

“You read Hangugeo?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer. “I can speak it, but read and write it as well. Obviously not as good as a native speaker, but I’m pretty fluent. My father was in the Air Force and he was stationed here when I was a child. He was at Osan Air Base for three years. I’ve always had a thing for languages, so wherever we went, I tried to learn them.”

He steps toward me, closing the gap between us. His hand grazes my ankle as he undoes the cuff, sending a hot shiver jolting up my spine. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from giving any kind of reaction, but then his gaze lifts to mine and I recognize the glint in his eyes.

He’d had the same look in the seconds before he kissed me.Bothtimes.

He’s close enough now that he could if he wanted to. I’d admittedly let him.