Page 9 of Marked By Him

“It was a warning,” I say finally. “A means of scaring her off.”

Jae-hyun sighs loudly. He finishes his glass of soju, then sets the glass down with athunk. “You know how we operate. There must be no loose ends. All doors must be closed. No survivors must be left.”

I swallow hard, fighting to resist any disobedience. He is Baekho-je. I am a Ho-gwi. It’s not my place to question his authority.

…but I do it anyway.

“You’ve spared people before.”

He snorts, then pins me with a dismissive glare. “I am Baekho-je. I can make those decisions. You… you, Jin-tae, are only a Ho-gwi. You are just a captain. You are not even a lieutenant yet. It is not your place.”

I glare back at him, refusing to show even the slightest sign of intimidation. No hint of weakness.

Jae-hyun merely grins as if sensing what I’m doing. “You spare no one. When you act on my behalf, no survivors are to remain.”

“What are you requesting I do?” I ask.

“Track down the girl and finish her off. Or perhaps I will promote one of your men to take your place and do it. Seung-min seems eager.”

My fists clench at my sides, and I have to pause to breathe or else I’d possibly be foolish and lash out.

I give a tight, restrained nod. “As you wish. It will get done.”

I stalk out of the office with no other acknowledgment. Rage burns through me at being reprimanded like I have been. Scolded and talked down to like a child.

All over some stupid girl who was so useless she could barely keep herself alive.

There’s one option and one option only left to me.

I will track down Monroe Ross.

And I will finish what we started.

4.Monroe

I wake in a cold sweat,gasping for air.

For several seconds, my head swims as if I’ve surfaced too quickly from some horrible dark nightmare.

My heart pounds inside my ribcage twice as fast as it should, and the t-shirt I wore to bed sticks to my back. The sheets on my bed are damp too, which means I must’ve really been going through it. I never sweat in my sleep unless I run a feverorI have a terrible nightmare.

My money’s on the second option.

I lay motionless for a while, trying to piece together what I was dreaming about. Fragments come and go, broken pieces that feel vague in the morning light but I know were a part of my dreams.

Stuff like the neon glow of club signs and dozens of chattering tipsy people. The warm, humid air of a night on Haeundae Beach in July. The dark deed I witnessed in an alleyway I had no business going down…

It feels so vivid, yet I know it couldn’t have been real.

There’s no way.

Sleep fades and my eyes adjust to the pale morning light filtering in through the curtains. Streaks of it fall over my small, cozy bedroom, illuminating the bookshelves in the corner and the little vanity table I’ve set up for doing my makeup and working on lesson plans.

I’ve built a humble life over the past near-year in Busan. It’s not perfect, but I wouldn’t trade it for a ticket back home.

Home is tainted with memories of Eli and the fractured heart that still beats inside my chest.

I push myself up in bed, still slow moving.

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