Page 89 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 1-4
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It would upset everything. There are bigger players here.”
Damian stalked closer, his monster just beneath his skin. He leaned over his mentor. “Is it your life? I could almost forgive you if they were holding your child hostage. What do they have on you?”
Mr. Su turned his face away. “It’s not how things are done.”
“Times change.” Damian slammed his hand against the wall above Mr. Su’s head. “I’m not naive. Every word we’ve said is recorded. Saved. Find Jun, or my friends will release it. Every man, woman, and child in the world will have the chance to hear.”
Mr. Su shuddered. “I can have you arrested.”
“You could shoot me and melt my phone. It won’t stop my words or yours. They’re immortal now. You’re worried about your network and relationships, about society. You should be thinking about mine.”
“What?” Mr. Su straightened, eyes wide with fear. “What are you planning, Damian?”
“I’ll release every text message Jun sent me, proving he was abused right in front of the world. Every missed date because his boss trapped him or took his keys. I’ll release him telling me in his own voice how he had to escape because he was being trafficked. I’ll draw the lines so even a child can understand what that means combined with the footage of this morning's press conference. I’ll spell it out loud and clear and then…”
Damian paused. “And then if that doesn’t work, I’ll draw a line for every single joint venture and contract I control with every business and conglomerate that makes their home in this city, international or otherwise. I’ll make them choose a side, publicly. By tomorrow, Jun’s fans will be burning merchandise in the streets. The day after, parents will be reconsidering where they want their children to work. Every officer on the street and every judge will be accosted by terrified citizens.”
“You’ll ruin his reputation. He’ll be shamed.”
“I can fix his reputation. I don’t know if I can fix what your friends are doing to him right now.”
“Your boss will lose billions.”
A terrible laugh ripped out of Damian’s throat. “You’re talking about Richard Reevesworth, the man who was nothing more than a building contractor when I met him, the man who walked into a hostage situation willing to die rather than choose between his husband and his boy.”
Mr. Su paled.
Damian leaned forward, pressing his hands against the top of one of the many ornate tables. “I don’t need to be a hero, Professor. I won’t break the law. All I need to do is keep speaking. I’m a wolf wrapped in the law of two countries. And I don’t need this one to be standing when I’m done, not if this is what this place stands for.”
“Don’t…” Mr. Su’s chest rose up and down as if he were going to pass out. “Don’t… You’re insane.”
“I know you hit the panic button, Mr. Su.” Damian said softly. He held up his phone, showing an actively streaming video. “What are you going to arrest me for? Intimidation of a judge? I’m not intimidating you. I’m telling you every legal step I’m going to take to stop a crime should you refuse to fulfill your duty and safeguard the people in your care.”
Shouts came from below. Damian kept his eyes fixed on Mr. Su. The man’s breath evened out, still shaky and raspy.
“You…you’re out of line.”
“No. I’m refusing to buy into your delusion. You may think that whatever you sacrificed had to be given up. But I don’t live in that world. And neither does Jun. Or the rest of the talented, hardworking, wonderful people I know here.”
“If I find him, you’ll keep this quiet. This video…won’t…”
“Four hours.” Damian checked his cuffs. “You have four hours to find him and free him.”
“And then this will stop.”
“Find him untouched and unharmed, and I’ll ask him what he wants.”
Jun
Everything smelled like alcohol. Jun knelt in it. There was a cut in his hand from the bottle he’d broken across the man in black’s face. There was a friction burn on his finger from flinging the table. Blood dripped from his nose and lip, joining the vermillion in his hand, turning the alcohol pink. His ribs and belly pulsed where the police chief had kicked him.
Any moment now, someone would come in to find out what the noise was. Any moment and either one of the men on the floor could return to their senses. Unless he’d actually killed one. He dragged his eyes from the pooling alcohol and surveyed the police chief’s body. His limbs were sprawled around him. The table had hit him in the chest and the face. Wood lay in multiple pieces around his body. There was blood.
“It’s always the quiet ones?—”
