"Jackson, I am so disappointed in you." She tisked, shaking her head swiftly from side to side. "Give it to me."
He blinked slowly, his hand coming up to cup his aching ribs. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play fucking stupid with me Jackson, my phone, where is it?"
"I don't know where it is, I didn't touch it." He was telling the truth.
"Jackson, you know how much I hate liars, remember?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, a look of violent glee warming up in the depths of her cold eyes.
Yes, he did remember. The scars on his forearms ensured he wouldn't forget.
"I'll give you one more chance to be honest with me, and I think I am being very generous given the circumstances."
"It's your phone, I don't know where the fuck it is." He shot back, his voice rising slightly in irritation.
He was tired, in pain, and scared, he couldn't control his attitude. But the minute those words left his mouth he knew he made a mistake. The familiar cold chill of fear unfurled in his spine, his fingers tingling as his tongue anxiously swiped over his lower lip. He had fucked up.
Her face was quickly overcome by rage, her manicured nails digging into her skin as she balled her hands into fists. "You're really pushing your luck today, Jackson. If I didn't know any better I would think you liked being punished. Are you a dirty little masochist?"
"I'm not," He croaked, unshed tears burning at the corners of his eyes, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't take it."
She sighed through her nose, her fingers tracing the opening of her purse, "Sorry isn't going to cut it, you never seem to learn."
"No, no, no, no, no, please! I said I was sorry, what else do you want? I'm sorry!" He cried, not moving from his position. He knew it would only make things worse.
"What else do I want?" She asked, her voice stoic and cold, "I think I deserve a sincere apology don't you? I think I deserve to come home to a boyfriend who doesn't raise his voice at me and steal my things." She seethed, pulling the remote control from her purse.
"Please, I'll be good, I swear! I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry, so, so, so sorry!"
"Empty words mean nothing to me. I've given you chance after chance to correct your stupid fucking mistakes but you just keep fucking it up, don't you? I was easy on you last time, that was my fault. This is the only way you'll learn."
He squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the pain, no matter how many times he had endured it, it never hurt any less. It was nothing like a dog collar, an unpleasant vibration. This was something else, something that took the breath out of his lungs and had him falling to his knees. It was like being tazed, and the controls were in the hands of your temperamental, sadistic kidnapper.
He held his breath in wait, anticipating the pain that was to come. But, when he heard the familiar click of the remote, there was nothing. He still flinched at the sound, trained to know that that noise was associated with pain. But no shock came.
He slowly opened his eyes, warily looking towards his captor. Instead of seeing that villainous, twisted grin he had become accustomed to, he saw panic. He saw fear.
Her eyes were wide with fright, all color had drained from her surprised features. She clicked the button again and again until she was rapidly flicking it on and off over and over again. And still, it refused to work.
Jackson's heart was violently thumping in his chest, a shot of adrenaline coursing through his body. It was that feeling of urgency, the realization that he was presented with his only chance to escape and he needed to take it now. He didn't think twice.
He lunged forward, his pain forgotten from his adrenaline rush. He shut down every moral in his mind, this was the one time he was allowed to hit a woman. He grabbed onto her shoulders so tightly a high-pitched cry left her mouth, and without another thought, he slammed her into the wall with every ounce of strength in his body.
The drywall cracked behind her head on impact, her eyes fluttering shut instantaneously, her body going completely limp. She slid down the wall with her dead weight, a trail of crimson blood followed, staining the once white walls.
He stopped for a moment, breathing heavily as he looked over her. Her chest was still rising and falling, she was breathing, she was alive. That was one guilt he wouldn't have to live with.
He sniffed twice before shakily wiping away the hot tears that were still present on his cheeks. He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath before deciding on his next course of action. He knelt beside her body before dumping her purse on its side.
Her car and house keys slid out along with her cellphone.
So, he was right. She knew where it was all along, she just needed an excuse to take her anger out on him, just like she always did.
He cursed under his breath in anger, scooping up her keys and angrily stomping on the plastic remote control several times, making sure it was completely broken. There was two years worth of stress, anger, pain, and hopelessness he took out on the fragile thing. It was almost laughable how something so small and insignificant could cause him a world of agony.
He was going to make sure she didn't get away with this. There was no way that he was going to go through this again or let anyone else suffer the same way that he did.
He knew where she kept the handcuffs, the ones that she always used to bind him to the radiator when she was angry with him. So, he tracked them down and did the same thing to her. He felt a small sense of satisfaction to see her looking just as helpless as he had felt. Karma was a bitch.
He quickly grabbed the handcuff keys, the car keys, and her phone and jetted out of the house. And without looking back, he climbed into her car, started the engine, and drove away.
What he was feeling was indescribable, it could only be simply explained as freedom.
Jackson was flooring it, flying down the road at dangerous speeds. He refused to even chance her finding him or catching up with him. And out of pure paranoia, he flew by the first police station he saw (the one closest to her house) and kept driving until he found another one. Her "family," was everywhere and he wouldn't put it past them to have dirty cops amongst their ranks. Her father had been a lawyer before he retired, nothing was impossible.
In his rush, he parked over the lane lines and left the car door open before running up the front steps of the police station and throwing the doors open. He was sure he looked a mess, his tears had dried into his skin, his hair greasy, his hands cupping his ribs, scars and wounds littering his skin, and deep blue bruises from sleepless nights marked beneath his eyes. He looked like he had been through hell and back, and rightfully so.
The officer at the front desk looked surprised, frozen in shock for a moment before rising and hiding her features behind a collected mask. Jackson rushed forward, leaning his battered body against the counter as he exhaled tearfully.
"My name is Jackson Wang, and I've been missing for two years."
~~~~~~~
You had become frighteningly good at getting what you wanted when it came to dealing with Jungkook. And a large part of that had to do with the great degree of comfortability you had come to acquire in his presence.
The time that had passed between you two had softened his once harder edges, you could get away with more. You could do more. You could have those freedoms you had wanted from the beginning.
But, there was one thing that you desperately wanted, and to get it you knew that you would have to put the work in. Sex was always a useful tool, one you had used before for more than one reason. But you knew that that would not be enough, especially on its own. You were going to have to do something you really didn't want to do.
You had spent the last two weeks fixing the kitchen, you had told Jungkook it was a good idea, that it would help get rid of the bad energy that lingered in the house. You had just finished hanging up the last of the cabinets that afternoon and the two of you had gone outside to soak in the lingering rays of the sun.
Now, you stood by the mound of dirt that faced the lake, the burial site of the only genuine monster you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Even though he was dead, you could still feel that tight pit in your stomach twisting. He still made your skin crawl even though you had won.
Jungkook was a few feet away, crouched down in the grass as he peered out at the ice-blue lake. The weather was getting steadily colder these days, a strong indication of just how long you had been gone.
That thought didn't make your heart race like it used to. Before, you would panic at the thought of how quickly time was passing, like grains of sand slipping through your fingers. Now, your heart remained steady, those thoughts were just facts. Time passes, and it has continued to do so even in your absence.
Your green mud boots kicked up the soil as you backed away and looked around you in a circle. There were quite a few wildflowers around the area, blooms you were and were not familiar with. And, in the garden by the deck were patches of chrysanthemums.
You meandered around the yard, plucking up flowers as you went, your hands quickly filling with an array of colors, purple, red, orange, and white. And then, there were the chrysanthemums. You hesitated, your nose wrinkling in frustration before you huffed out a sigh and plucked them as well even though he did not deserve them.
You returned to the makeshift grave and lowered yourself to your knees before sitting back on your calves. You grabbed bunches of flowers and began to arrange them around the dirt pile, slowly bringing the muted colors of the soil to life. A wave of warm anger was settled in your chest, embers of a fire that had yet to completely fizzle out. He didn't deserve this kindness, it wasn't for him. It was for Jungkook and it was for yourself.
"What?" Jungkook whispered as he caught sight of you. "What are you doing?"
Your fingers continued to work, arranging each flower to your liking. "Jimin mentioned this would be a good spot for a garden, it's getting too cold to start one now, but I still wanted to make it something special."
His eyes looked glassy, filled to the brim with emotion as he moved closer to you. "But, he hurt you. He tried to kill you, why would you do this? You hate him."
"I do hate him, but I don't hate you." You calmly replied, eyes still focused on your task.
Tattooed fingers settle themselves on top of your own, making your hands still and cease their work.
"You don't know how much this means to me, thank you." He said softly, his fingers lightly stroking the skin of your hands as he blinked away tears.
How far the two of you had come.
You simply smiled at him before going back to your work, this time with an extra set of hands weaving flowers together and arranging them around the grave. When you had been taken, you never would have thought this is where you would end up or this is what you would one day do. You were an accomplice to a murder and you were decorating the "victim's," grave. But you also couldn't bother to care.
When the two of you finished your arrangement you sat in silence, taking it all in. Jungkook didn't sniffle, he didn't shake or cry, he was much calmer with you by his side. How ironic was it that you were not only the origin of his insanity but the cure for it as well?
"Jungkook?" You asked, breaking the calm silence.
"Yeah?"
It was now or never, you had created the perfect environment to finally make your request. And you were certain you could get what you wanted.
"I want to call my mom."
"No." He immediately responded, eyes narrowing in confusion and in defense. You needed to try harder.
"Kookie, she's probably worried sick. All I want to do is call her and let her know that I'm alright. She has no idea what happened to me, where I am, or if I'm alive. Don't you think we owe her that much, to let her know that I am happy and safe?"
"You know why I can't let you do that." He said firmly.
"Baby, you can trust me. She's your mother-in-law, she's family, she needs this."
"We...we don't contact outsiders, it doesn't work that way."
"I'm an outsider too, Jungkook, remember? This is about us, not about what everyone else does or thinks. This is all I want, I don't want her to never know what happened to her daughter, to die thinking the worst happened to me."
He visibly flinched at the mention of death, his head bowing as he hid his face from you.
"It's one call, that's all I'm asking for." You continued, running your fingers through his hair as his head remained bowed.
He leaned into your touch on instinct, his eyes shut and lips pressed together as he debated over what to do. You could tell it was working, or that he was at least considering it. For you.
"I won't tell her about your family or where we are, just that I'm safe. And if she pushes and asks for more, I'll lie. Please, Jungkook, just let me hear her voice."
He released another heavy sigh, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "One call, just one."
Your heart soared.
"I'll let you do this under two conditions, the phone stays in my hands at all times and it's on speaker."
"You don't trust me." You replied, the accusation heavy and bitter on your tongue.
"It's not that I don't trust you, baby, it's the temptation." He was smarter than you gave him credit for. "These are the conditions, it's either this or no call."
"Okay." You breathed, your fingers anxiously twisting the blade of grass beneath you. This was all you had to work with, and if it meant you could hear your mother's voice again, you would do it.
Jungkook slipped his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before looking up at you expectantly, waiting for the numbers to dial. You slowly recited the numbers you had memorized years ago to him, forcing your lips and tongue to move slower despite the urge to spit them out as quickly as possible. He tapped in the last digit and hit dial before switching it to speaker and holding the phone up in between you and himself.
A steady ringing vibrated through the air, your heart pumped in anxiety and excitement. Your eyes fluttered shut and you held your breath, hoping that she would pick up the phone despite the unfamiliar number.
"Hello?" A voice came through, the edges crackling from poor reception.
There was a lump in your throat, your eyes burning as tears threatened to break through and run their course down your face. It was her voice, a voice you had slowly started to forget despite having heard it your entire life.
"Hello?" She asked again, her voice sounding more annoyed than before from the lack of response.
"Hi," You croaked before clearing your throat, "Hi mom."
Silence followed for a moment before she stuttered out your name in shock, "Is that you, is it really you?!"
"Yeah, mom. It's really me." You smiled blindly as you rubbed at your now wet cheeks.
A broken cry echoed through the phone and back to you, she was sobbing now, happily. Your gaze flickered up to Jungkook. His jaw was tense as he looked back at you, you could see him swallowing uncomfortably, a look that couldn't be described as anything other than guilt was plastered all over his face. There was no sound more painful than that of a heartbroken mother's cries.
"Where are you baby?! What happened?!"
You made direct eye contact with Jungkook, he was worried, an unsure expression now taking over his features. He still didn't trust you, you could tell he was getting antsy, he wanted to hang up.
"I'm okay, mom. I'm safe, I'm not hurt, I'm okay." It wasn't necessarily a lie, you weren't hurt and nothing within a mile radius of you and Jungkook could harm you. He was like a guard dog, no one would get by him to you.
"Sweetheart, where are you? Please, just tell me where you are!"
"I'm...I'm with my husband." Even if you wanted to tell her where you were, you couldn't because you had no fucking clue where this lakehouse was in the middle of nowhere. And if you did know, Jungkook would take you and flee way before the cops would find you. It was futile.
"Your husband? What are you talking about?"
"I got married, mom. We, uh, we eloped."
There was a panicked look on Jungkook's face now, he hadn't expected you to bring him up at all. But what else were you supposed to do, you didn't know what else to say and you just vocalized the first somewhat believable thing that came to your mind.
"You got married? That's why you left? You didn't get taken, you haven't been held hostage? I've been worried sick, why didn't you just tell me?! Every day I've been thinking the worst had happened to you. Do you know how many nights I've lied awake crying thinking you were dead in a ditch somewhere?"
"I know mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. My husband, well he was my boyfriend, his dad was hurting him, mom. He was a powerful person, someone to be scared of. So we ran off together, we were too scared to tell anyone anything. We've been in hiding for a while, we didn't talk to anyone in case his dad heard something and tracked us down."
Jungkook's body had tensed up, his eyes glazing over for a moment.
"Why now? Why did you wait all this time?" She asked, her voice becoming harder to understand as she cried even more. These were tears of relief.
"We just found out his dad died. We're both safe now."
"When are you coming home? Please, come home." She sobbed.
You looked back and Jungkook again, a pleading look from you reflecting on the surface of his eyes. And, instead of shaking his head as you expected, he gave you a firm nod.
"I'll come home soon, mom." You said with a sniffle and a wisp of a smile.
You had either become a good liar to not only Jungkook but your mother as well, or you had believed your own fabrication to a greater extent than you had anticipated.
"I have to go now mom, I'll talk to you again soon."
"No, please don't hang up!"
"It's okay, I'll call you again and you'll see me even sooner than you think."
"Sweetheart, wait-" Jungkook hit end.
It was a short call, but it had meant the world to you to hear your mother's voice again after being deprived of it for so long. And now, all there was silence, you, Jungkook, and a corpse six feet under.
"Why did you lie to her?" He finally asked, disbelief evident on his face. He couldn't understand why you didn't tell her everything. Why you didn't tell her how he had kidnapped you, how you had been forced into a marriage you didn't want, and how his father's death had been anything but natural.
"Did I?"
~~~~~~~
"Jeon Chae-eun?" The detective asked, the door to the interrogation room slowly creaking closed behind him.
Chae-eun had been quiet ever since they had arrived at her house. A team of squad cars had woken her up, blue and red lights flashing through the windows across her face. Her head had been pounding and her vision blurry when she woke up. But the fear, that was prominent. It was as strong as a cold splash of water bringing her to her senses. She tried to clamber up to stand and make a run for it but she was sharply jerked back by her wrist, the silver glint of the handcuffs catching her attention. Jackson was much smarter than she had ever given him credit for.
Everything after that was chaotic and she was the calm in the storm. An officer had uncuffed her from the radiator, only for her to quickly be forced onto a stretcher and her wrist cuffed to the rails on her way to the hospital. The minute her wounds had been treated and she was deemed ready for discharge, she was ushered into the back of a police cruiser and driven back to the station. Chae-eun knew that she was fucked.
Her eyelashes fluttered as she briefly looked up at the detective, acknowledging his presence.
Chae-eun had always been a deceptive person. She was slight, petite, and rather innocent-looking on the outside. She and her brother shared the same set of big doe eyes and pouty lips and she had always been able to get exactly what she wanted. She knew what the detective was thinking as he pulled his chair back from the table, metal squeaking against linoleum, he couldn't fathom how someone so sweet-looking could be so diabolical.
She knew that there was no getting out of this, she had thought of every possible scenario in which she would get away with what she had done, and there was not a single one. Her father had been a successful lawyer, he had taught her the ins and outs of getting away with a crime when you wanted to commit one. But she had never thought that the cops would show up on her doorstep where all the evidence was. All the work she had done was to burn whatever trail would follow back to her. She had not once thought Jackson would get away from her and she had never thought she would need to be careful in her own home.
She had considered using her phone call to get a hold of one of her father's work friends, someone who was as morally grey as they were. But she knew better than that, her mistake was already exposing the intricate fabrications of her family members, the lives they had so carefully tailored so they could do as they please while slipping around the vision of the law. Her one mistake was going to ripple outwards and affect everyone. The last thing she wanted to do was disgrace her father's memory by getting his friends caught too. She was certain Jackson had told them everything, and by now they knew the entire family was involved.
It was in her best interest to use whatever rights she still had and remain silent.