Page 87

“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.

20.Jin

The phone buzzesminutes after five a.m. I’m already awake, having only slept two hours. I’m seated on the floor in the middle of meditation when the buzzing interrupts my breathing exercise. The screen lights up with Sergeant Han Kyung-ho’s name.

A corrupt cop on my payroll, he often helps the Baekho Pa out when we need insider info on police investigations in Busan.

My gaze drifts toward the small lump on the bed. Monroe’s still buried under the blankets, only a few wayward curls spilling out at the top. Other than the buzzing from my phone, the room is quiet with the gentle, shallow sound of her breathing.

I step outside to answer Sergeant Han’s call. The rest of the Shell House is as hushed as my private room with Monroe. Dawn washes away the inky night with pale streaks of lavender and rosy pink while a few black-tailed gulls cry overhead.

“Got a minute?” he asks in greeting.

“You said you’d call if you had something. This better be important.”

“Trust me, Jin, you want to hear this.”

“Talk.”

“They found a mark at the scene.”

“What kind?”

“You’re not gonna like it,” Han says, and I hear the click of a cigarette lighter in the background. “It was found burned into the ground near the utility box where the fire started. It was a reversed Taegeuk… done in crimson ink.”

Tension pulls my jaw tight. “The Bulgeomhoe.”

“It seems like it.”

It’s no surprise the Bulgeomhoe would be behind the fire. It’s only been a couple weeks since our last confrontation at Club Gongshi. My men and I had eliminated Kwon Sang-bae and his crew. We showed no mercy, only allowing for one rat to slip free to send the rest a warning.

They’ve decided to retaliate rather than back down.

“If this was the Bulgeomhoe, Jin, then this was a warning,” Han goes on. He pauses to suck on his cigarette, the smoke crackling over the line as he blows out. “They’ve been watching you. Keeping close tabs. When you come, when you go.”

My eyes flick toward the window of the Shell House that belongs to the room I share with Monroe.

If the Bulgeomhoe have been surveilling me, then they probably know about her. I’m not sure what’s more unnerving—the Baekho Pa being after her or the Bulgeomhoe.

“Has this information been made available in other precincts?” I ask.

“Not yet. The report’s being handled quietly. But it won’t be buried long. The media will get wind of another gang-related incident. Do I inform the Baekho-je?”

“You’re onmypayroll,” I grit out, irritated by the question. “This stays between us. If I find out you’re leaking info to other members, prepare for that lit cigarette to be jammed up your ass.”

He clicks his tongue. “You think I’d cross Seo Jin-tae after everything? I know better. I heard about what you did to Seung-min. Or that guy Yeongdo last year. I still have nightmares thinking about it.”