Page 35 of Ruthless Touch

Gritting my teeth, I pick up the pace. I can handle this.

I’ve handled Rhee Gun-woo before. I just have to be strate?—

“Stop running!”

The gunshot echoes off the brick walls of the buildings around me. I feel the bullet whiz past me, slicing through the dark air.

Without thinking, I dive through the window of what used to be a grocery store, glass shards raining down around me as I roll across the debris-strewn floor.

Sharp pain pricks my skin from where the glass pieces cut me up. But I still have no time to pause even for a second. Not when I’m trying like hell to lose him.

Gun springs up as promptly as I expect.

I’m dashing through the aisles of expired box items and rusted shelving, and he’s closing in like the predator he is.

“Goyangi!” he yells in a sing-song taunt. “Why do you run? Have you forgotten we’re supposed to like each other? C’mere!”

“Fuck off!” I scream breathlessly as I cut a corner and sprint into the back of the store.

It’s dark and cold, with dust in the air and cobwebs everywhere.

“Argh!” I groan as I crash into some crates and send the tall stack tumbling down.

It works out in my favor, because as Gun follows blindly in my wake, he’s met with splintered pieces of wood flying in every direction.

I catch his grunt of pain as I make it to the back door and then out into the next alleyway.

I immediately discover it’s a mistake—the alley is a dead end, brick walls rising on three sides like a prison cell that boxes you in.

Dread sinks into me as I realize I’ve trapped myself.

When I spin around, Gun is already there, blocking the only exit with his broad frame. His gun is drawn as he aims the weapon at me.

Blood trickles down the side of his head from where the wooden crates caught him, every breath he releases ragged and heavy.

They match my own. I’m panting for air, breathless after our cat-and-mouse game.

We both look like hell—clothes torn, skin scraped raw from glass and brick, sweat mixing with dirt and blood.

My side aches as I shut out the pain and focus on what I know is coming.

There’s no way out that doesn’t involve fighting Gun.

He seems to reach the same conclusion, his lips curving into that infuriating grin. “All I want is a kiss, Goyangi. I’ll even put the gun away. See?”

He slides the pistol back into its holster, holding up both hands to show me he’s now supposedly harmless. He starts toward me with slow steps, his confident air revealing he thinks he’s won.

But he still hasn’t realized I’m never one to go down without a fight.

I launch myself at him, fists and feet flying in a combination of strikes that would drop most men in seconds.

…most men except Rhee Gun-woo.

His reflexes are sharp and near-superhuman. His forearms come up to block my punches while he dodges any kicks with equal ease.

When I snap my leg up toward his ribs, he catches my ankle and uses my own momentum to swing me sideways into the brick wall.

The impact drives every ounce of air from my lungs and sends fresh agony radiating through my tender ribs.