Page 39 of Ruthless Touch

“Look at you now, you silly little bitch,” he snarls with a cruel laugh. He stands over me like it gives him great pleasure to see me floundering on the ground, then his hand tangles in my braids. His grip is rough, designed to inflict more pain.

This time on my scalp.

He flips me over onto my back. I don’t even have a chance to hold up my arms in defense. His bloodied fist rains down, and I’m out like a light.

My head pounds like a jackhammer as I slowly come to.

Everything hurts—ribs, skull, even my legs ache—and when I try to move forward, metal bites into my wrists. The fog in my vision gradually clears, revealing rusted chains binding me to a wooden chair in what looks like an abandoned warehouse, all dust and shadows and the smell of mold.

“Finally awake, are we?”

The meathead Jeokpa steps into view. The mere sight of him makes my skin crawl.

His grin reveals teeth stained by years of cigarette usage, though he doesn’t seem to care. He seems to take pride in his nasty, yellow-toothed grin, malice rolling off him in waves.

“I was starting to think I hit you too hard,” he jokes darkly. “I’m a boxer, and my fists are lethal. You still don’t know me? Nam Gi-tae.”

I glare at him like I don’t give a fuck—and I don’t.

My brain processes thoughts slower than usual, but I’m already plotting what angle I can work to get myself out of this situation.

“I was there when you shot my friend. Remember? The Jeokpa who got in your way when you were trying to kill Lieutenant Im?” He hefts a rusted pipe off the floor, testing its weight in his other hand. “Now I’m going to kill you myself and take all the glory for bringing down Black Silk. I’m going to make this pure hell for you.”

I open my mouth to speak but taste only blood. I spit it onto the concrete floor and force my racing heartbeat to ease up. I need to be calm if I’m going to talk my way out of this.

“It was an accident,” I say hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to kill him. He got in the way of my target.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Gi-tae screams, his face twisting with rage. He beats the pipe against his opposite palm, making his intention clear. “What’s done is done, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

“You’re wrong if you think you’ll get glory for this,” I say hurriedly. “Your bosses will want me alive. They won’t like that you killed me—and besides, how will you prove I’m Black Silk if I’m already dead? You think they’ll take your word for it that Black Silk is really a woman?”

His brow furrows as he processes this, confusion flickering across his brutish features.

“I’m worth more alive,” I press. “Take me to the Cheongryong. Reclaim your glory that way.”

For a moment he seems to consider it. Hope flickers in my heart that maybe I can find a way to escape during transport. I’ll wait ’til he’s distracted and then do my best to make an escape.

But then he chuckles like the oaf he is.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“You really don’t want my honest opinion.”

He growls and raises the rusted pipe like he’s about to cave my skull in. I turn my head to brace for the blow, readying myself to have my head bashed in.

His rage fades slightly for the sickening grin that returns to his face. “Actually, I know exactly how I can get my revenge for my friendandkeep you alive for my bosses.”

I tug at the chains binding me, the calm front I’ve put up vanishing by the second.

He steps toward me and roughly grabs my face. His dirty thumb drags across my bottom lip as he peers down at me with an amusement that tells me I’m not in on the joke.

I am the joke.

“Even bloodied and bruised, you’re a sexy lady. I know how to make a woman like you cry, even when she acts so tough.”

Dread spreads through me as I meet his dark eyes and realize he’s not going to be talked out of this. I’m not going to magically maneuver my way out of these chains.

His oafish hand drifts from my face to my throat, then lower to fist the nylon fabric of my shirt like he’s about to tear it open.