Page 44 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
“Yes. I’m not letting you go anywhere without me…or Bobbi to keep you safe.”
“But it’s an airport.”
“Exactly. Too many people.” Tension tightens his muscles.
I run a soothing hand over his back. He’s right about it being crowded, but I highly doubt the killer’s going to try anything here. He would want to hide his crime, not have it recorded for posterity on LAX’s security system. But I don’t bother arguing. This is what Tony wants to do for his peace of mind.
By the time we’re issued tickets and checked in, we have half an hour before one of the flights to Korea starts boarding. Thankfully, the lines aren’t too terrible this late, and we manage to go through it in decent time.
Ten minutes to go.
Bobbi points to our right. “That way.”
I start running. Thank God I’m in my flats today. Bobbi and Tony match my pace.
Come on, Yuna. Don’t board too fast!
Knowing her, she’s flying first class or business, and they always board those before the others.
My heart is pumping hard, not just from the exertion but from the anxiety and distress winding through me. There are so many people gathered at the gate, most of them Asians—probably Koreans returning home from their trip.
How am I going to find Yuna and Mr. Kim in the crowd? She isn’t that tall, and Mr. Kim is the type to blend in, not stand out. Why can’t flamboyance be a corporate virtue in Korea?
“There!” Bobbi points at a girl sitting in a seat close to the gate. Mr. Kim’s standing next to her, dressed in a funeral-black suit.
Relief leaves my legs shaky, but I can’t give in to it. I haven’t spoken to her yet.
“Yuna!” I yell, rushing toward her.
She turns around slowly, but Mr. Kim moves first, stepping toward me, ready to block me from talking to her.
“Stop him!” I tell Bobbi.
She smirks. “My pleasure.”
Mr. Kim glares at Bobbi. He’s probably thinking about the time he stopped her from getting in the Escalade to drive me to work.
Yuna stands and says something to him in Korean. He scowls, then bows his head.
She raises a hand at Bobbi. “You can’t cause a scene. You’re going to get arrested. And I can’t bail you out if you are. This isn’t Korea.”
Bobbi shrugs, then moves aside, subtly blocking Mr. Kim.
I make a half-circle so I’m positioned between the gate and Yuna.
She sighs softly. “This is ridiculous. What are you doing? Filming a scene from a drama?”
“Me? Drama? What about you? You suck!” I say, gasping from my run. My pulse is still too fast and unsteady. “Why aren’t you responding to my texts!”
“Oh. I handed my phone to Mr. Kim on our way here because Mom kept calling every ten minutes to ask me what I want to eat when I land. She’s going to call me fat while feeding me.”
Her bland tone is pissing me off. She’s been ignoring me since the weekend.
“But what about the ones from yesterday? I texted and called so many times!”
“You did?”
She arches an eyebrow, then turns to Mr. Kim, speaking to him in a scarily calm tone in Korean.
