young spy | jjk

02

"He—"

"You've been told over and over again that you can't damage my fucking property!"

With a furious look over your shoulder, you saw the middle-aged man put his tongue to the inside of his cheek. You were well aware that he felt irritated by having to listen to your commands just because you were related to his boss.

"Turn him around," you ordered the two other men that stood behind the injured one. They did, by his arms. With his back facing you, you placed your hand on it, watching him flinch and try to move away from the pain. That was all you needed to know. To make someone dig their own grave was a despicable thing in itself but to fucking whip them, too?

"Like I said, he was acting up! Even looking at me like he was better than me!"

Without as much as moving his shirt this time, you gestured for him to be turned back around. It didn't go as smoothly as the first time. His energy must've finally run out, because his knees buckled, and he fell onto them.

The men had evidently not been prepared for that as they quickly leaned down to force him back up again before you halted them.

"It's fine, go to those two," you nodded your head towards the brown-haired one's companions. "And take their tape off. They seem interesting enough, too."

"Y/n, you know, you don't look even half as freaky as you are," Marcus spoke smugly. "You're really gonna take three of them this time? And one that's injured pretty badly, too?"

You glared at him, resulting in him raising his hands to his chest, palms displayed in surrender. When you shifted your entire body to face him, you ended up standing beside the kneeling man. He took you by surprise when he leaned his side against you, his head to your hip. Another man came to move him off of you, but you stopped him, too.

"It's fine," you huffed in annoyance. However, your hand still moved discreetly to the back of the man's head, where you gently pet his hair with small movements.

"Look, they're mine, and I can do what I want with them. But as you probably already know, I don't usually keep them all to myself. You think only girls are worth a lot of money?"

"Why don't you leave him to me?" Marcus nodded towards the brunette beside you. "Settle for the other two, I'm sure they can bring you enough money. I really wanna see that one with a bullet in his head."

When you didn't say anything, simply chose to raise your eyebrows questioningly, he elaborated, leaning against one of the cars.

"Come on, it's gonna take time to heal all of those wounds. Besides, they're pretty deep, they're gonna leave scars. Unless you really are planning on keeping him as your own personal sex slave, then no one's gonna buy him. And if they do, he won't be worth much anyway."

You knew damn well that all Marcus wanted was to put the guy in his place. But you weren't gonna let Marcus, of all people, decide the man's fate.

"You know, scars add character. Besides, look at him," you stopped touching him soothingly to grip at his hair and tilt his head up so that you could follow your own advice. "If you think no one's willing to give a lot of money for this kind of handsome, you're an idiot. Seems like the submissive type, as well. A real pleaser. You know how valuable those are."

With that, you turned your head to the other young ones, signaling to Marcus that you didn't want to hear another word. This time, you weren't afraid to let your fingers gently grasp at the man's black strands where anyone could see. It was an act out of boredom, right?

With your attention now on them, the two others looked on with big, anxious eyes.

"How old are you?" you questioned, a tone of indifference lacing your words.

"I'm twenty-five, Jimin here is twenty-four, and Jeongguk is only twenty-two," one of them said. He was also incredibly attractive, all three of them were. His hair was an ashy grey, and you briefly wondered if spies really went out with hair colors like those. Wasn't the entire point of being a spy to blend in? To remain unseen? He was tall, taller than the other one, Jimin, for sure, but you couldn't tell if he was taller than the brunette by your side. They all wore similar outfits, black, fitted t-shirts and cargo pants.

"And your name is?"

"Namjoon, miss." He was smart, Namjoon. You had to give him that. Well-spoken and respectful. He knew what his best shot was.

"I see—"

"Please, let him live. He's so young!" You moved your gaze from Namjoon to the one who had cut you off. Jimin. Desperation colored his entire expression, his eyes teary from what you could discern through his blonde hair that partially covered his forehead and eyes.

The man that was leaning his head onto you, Jeongguk, was only two years younger than the second youngest, but you realized that they genuinely considered him a little brother. You wondered if he thought it was strange how your harsh words contradicted the sweetness of your fingers in his hair. It seemed like everyone had a soft spot for the guy. Well, maybe not Marcus.

"Don't interrupt me," you warned coldly. "You're physically fine, both of you?"

When met with two nodding heads, you hummed.

"I'm taking all three of them," you informed, looking sternly at Marcus, who sighed in return. He was making it very clear how disappointed he was that you wouldn't let him execute the three young ones. "I can't risk taking them all myself. I'll take this one and send someone for the other two. And Marcus?"

"Yeah?"

"If they're in any worse condition than this, it'll be your head with a bullet in it. Trust me."

You didn't want to leave the two other men there, but you had no choice. You had to get out of there as fast as possible. The risk that Marcus would re-think and decide that, no, you weren't going to take any of them, was a risk you weren't willing to take. Not to mention the ever-present possibility of him finally having had enough of your demanding self. After all, you were grossly outnumbered, and these were dangerous men.

By the time two men put their hands underneath his arms and practically carried Jeongguk towards your car, he was barely conscious. You managed to stop the men before they could fling him into the back seat, determined to get some water in him before. Who knew how long it had been since he had received anything to drink? He had most likely not precisely eaten anything recently, either. If he had indeed dug that hole by himself, it must have taken hours and hours.

You unscrewed the top from your own plastic water bottle as Jeongguk kneeled on the ground, leaning against the car.

"Drink," you ordered him with the bottle set to his lips. When he didn't open his mouth, or even eyes, you slapped him.

"I said drink. I can't have you dying on me, now can I?"

He carefully opened his mouth, and you poured some of the clear fluid inside, mindful to not pour too fast and to give him time to swallow it. A few stray drops escaped from the side of his mouth, but you caught them with your fingers before they could round the curve of his jaw.

Around half a bottle's worth of water in him later, the two men once again moved him. You heard his grunts of pain as he was being shoved inside in an unnecessarily violent manner.

With a last reminder to Marcus and a quick look to the two you were hoping to be able to get later, you reversed the car out of there. You wanted Namjoon and Jimin to understand what you were doing without saying it outright or rousing too much suspicion, and you thought they just might have. Would they have tried to argue otherwise? Maybe not; being trafficked still seemed like a better option than getting executed.

With that, you left the forest and the other older men that weren't good enough for you to save.