Page 65
Story: Marked By Him
Do-gil frowns. “Already? The night’s young!”
Jae-hyun leans back in his chair, smoke curling from his lips. “Let him go. You know Jin-tae never stops working. He’s a man of discipline and honor. We should all aspire to be more like him.”
Finally, his grin returns, his gaze still fixed on me.
I offer a shallow bow, then exit the room, letting the door click behind me.
My fists are clenched at my side as I stride out of the Claw Lounge and head toward my car.
The leaders in the Baekho Pa think Monroe is dead. They’ve celebrated it several times over. I’ve allowed them to believe what’s an unmistakable lie.
But there’s no other choice. There’s no way I can allow her death.
I’m more certain of that than ever as their loud, crass laughter fades.
I come home to the apartment to more tears from Monroe. It’s not until I step through the door that her sniffling reaches my ears and I spot her curled up on the floor by the balcony. Her knees are drawn to her chest, her head bowed low.
Fuck. Not again.
For a second, I honestly consider turning around and leaving. Maybe a walk around the village will give her the time she needs to clean herself up. How long do emotional breakdowns tend to last?
But I’ve already entered the apartment, and it would probably look ridiculous if I left.
So instead, I do what I always do—act indifferent and cold. I toe out of my boots and strip off my leather jacket, laying it across the stool.
Moving into the kitchen, I grab a bottle of soju and two small glasses that I set down on the coffee table.
Her cries go on.
This time, she’s not even trying to hide it. She hiccups between sobs, mopping at her tear-streaked face. As I approach, she gives no reaction.
I sigh. “I told you before. I’m not equipped to deal with this.”
No answer.
I try again, my approach direct and outright. “What is the problem now? Tell me why you’re crying.”
Her watery dark eyes lift to mine, though she still refuses to speak.
“Tell me,” I insist a third time. “If this is about the cuffs, you have yourself to blame after last night.”
It’s the truth. I’ve removed any and everything from the apartment that she could possibly use to pick the locks. If she thinks some tears will guilt me into allowing her free range while I’m gone?—
“It’s not the cuffs!” she snaps, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s… never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”
I kneel beside her and reach out to unlock the cuff clamped shut around her ankle. My knuckles brush her soft skin and a sharp shiver shoots through me. Though you’d never know by the hardened expression I wear.
“Try me.”
Monroe rises slowly to her feet, wrapping her arms around her stomach and turning to peer out the balcony’s glass door.
The view is dark and beautiful at night. A direct look at the ocean waves churning beyond the small fishing village where I live. The moon and stars are out tonight, tiny silver decorations in an otherwise plum sky.
“We had sex last night, Jin,” Monroe mumbles.
I stare at her back, lost as to her expectation. I’ve known this moment would come, where she demanded we discuss everything that happened. And yet I’m unprepared for how to deal with her and these intense emotions she experiences.
“Yes,” I admit matter-of-factly. “We did. What’s the matter? You regret it?”
Jae-hyun leans back in his chair, smoke curling from his lips. “Let him go. You know Jin-tae never stops working. He’s a man of discipline and honor. We should all aspire to be more like him.”
Finally, his grin returns, his gaze still fixed on me.
I offer a shallow bow, then exit the room, letting the door click behind me.
My fists are clenched at my side as I stride out of the Claw Lounge and head toward my car.
The leaders in the Baekho Pa think Monroe is dead. They’ve celebrated it several times over. I’ve allowed them to believe what’s an unmistakable lie.
But there’s no other choice. There’s no way I can allow her death.
I’m more certain of that than ever as their loud, crass laughter fades.
I come home to the apartment to more tears from Monroe. It’s not until I step through the door that her sniffling reaches my ears and I spot her curled up on the floor by the balcony. Her knees are drawn to her chest, her head bowed low.
Fuck. Not again.
For a second, I honestly consider turning around and leaving. Maybe a walk around the village will give her the time she needs to clean herself up. How long do emotional breakdowns tend to last?
But I’ve already entered the apartment, and it would probably look ridiculous if I left.
So instead, I do what I always do—act indifferent and cold. I toe out of my boots and strip off my leather jacket, laying it across the stool.
Moving into the kitchen, I grab a bottle of soju and two small glasses that I set down on the coffee table.
Her cries go on.
This time, she’s not even trying to hide it. She hiccups between sobs, mopping at her tear-streaked face. As I approach, she gives no reaction.
I sigh. “I told you before. I’m not equipped to deal with this.”
No answer.
I try again, my approach direct and outright. “What is the problem now? Tell me why you’re crying.”
Her watery dark eyes lift to mine, though she still refuses to speak.
“Tell me,” I insist a third time. “If this is about the cuffs, you have yourself to blame after last night.”
It’s the truth. I’ve removed any and everything from the apartment that she could possibly use to pick the locks. If she thinks some tears will guilt me into allowing her free range while I’m gone?—
“It’s not the cuffs!” she snaps, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s… never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”
I kneel beside her and reach out to unlock the cuff clamped shut around her ankle. My knuckles brush her soft skin and a sharp shiver shoots through me. Though you’d never know by the hardened expression I wear.
“Try me.”
Monroe rises slowly to her feet, wrapping her arms around her stomach and turning to peer out the balcony’s glass door.
The view is dark and beautiful at night. A direct look at the ocean waves churning beyond the small fishing village where I live. The moon and stars are out tonight, tiny silver decorations in an otherwise plum sky.
“We had sex last night, Jin,” Monroe mumbles.
I stare at her back, lost as to her expectation. I’ve known this moment would come, where she demanded we discuss everything that happened. And yet I’m unprepared for how to deal with her and these intense emotions she experiences.
“Yes,” I admit matter-of-factly. “We did. What’s the matter? You regret it?”
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