DAY 12

                You’d had a great night out, enough alcohol to make you forget about all the stress at work. Not enough to give you a loose tongue. God forbid you get found blabbing about the case to random people in bars, you’d be lucky only to lose your license if that ever happened, never mind possible jail time. But you’d been careful since you started to progress in the case. Never enough to give you a hangover. Never enough to stop you from going into work even earlier than normal and walking directly up to the sixth floor and straight into the interrogation chamber.

                As soon as you opened the door he scrambled on his bed, sitting up with startled eyes. If he had blankets you were sure he’d be tangled in them with the way he’d jumped to attention. As it were, he just sat there in his wrinkled jumpsuit, looking at you wide eyed and confused. Another time you might have found it amusing, if you weren’t here on business, if he wasn’t a criminal, if you weren’t an interrogator with an agenda.

                “Is it early?” He asked through a yawn, rubbing his eyes, “it feels early.”

                “Please join me at your table.” You said, echoing the words you’d said 9 days ago. You sat at your seat, back straight, voice even. You hadn’t brought coffee this time.  

                “What, what’s going on?” He said, slowly moving to slouch at the table. His voice showed concern, but his mind wasn’t caught up yet, still wading through clouds to try and wake up.

                “The recorder isn’t going,” You placed it on the table, showing it with no blinking lights, “anything you say to me now is off the books.”

                He sat up straighter, “Alright, now you’re freaking me out.” His eyebrows knit together as he waited for an explanation.

                “I went to visit Park Ha-Young.” You said.

                “Oh.” He sobered, sitting back in his chair, clasping his hands in front of him, “right.”

                “Has Park Ha-Young been having ual relations with Chanyeol?” You were direct, you didn’t want to waste time with banter, you didn’t want to have to sit at night recalling every word, trying to discern meaning from it like you did with all the other recordings. You wanted answers.

                His eyes darted to the recorder, then back to you. “You’re really not recording?”

                “Really.”

                He exhaled slowly, his fingers once again the skin where his ring would have been. It was in your bag right now, you’d planned on giving it back to him at some point, but now wasn’t the time. “Yeah. Yeah she’s been seeing him for some time now.”

                “More than once?” This had been a regular occurrence? How underage had she been when this started? How had she got away from her family for so long? How had she met him in the first place?

                “She’s been coming out to visit us for months,” he admitted, “had quite the crush on him too. It was all fine until….”

                “Until what?”

                “Until this happened.” He gestured to the room, his cell.

                “What happened that night?” You asked. Finally, the question you’d been hired to ask.

                He sighed, “She was with us, like usual, then she went outside for god knows what reason and they took her, told us to come get her for ransom. We did, and bam, there you all were ready with your handcuffs. Nice little job they got themselves, probably got a nice payoff from you lot too for it.”

                “Who are they?”

                He pursed his lips, and you knew he wasn’t saying anything more in that avenue. You wished he’d speak, because you dreaded to think that the Department of Organised Intelligence was actually sinking that low to do deals with gangs. There were special allowances, and then there was breaking the law. But you knew Chen well enough now to know he wouldn’t say anything else. You switched gears.

                “Are you aware that Ha-Young is pregnant?”

                His eyes widened, “You’re not serious.”

                “Deadly.”

                He stared at you, as if waiting for you to laugh and say ‘surprise!’, but it never came. Slowly, he slumped in his chair, eyes unfocused, as he realised you were telling the truth. “This is going to kill him. How far along is she?”

                “Not far enough that anyone else knows. Far enough that she’ll be getting a doctor’s appointment within the week for her symptoms.”

                He cradled his head in his hands, “Chanyeol’s gonna be devastated.”

                “Why?”

                He chuckled dryly, “you haven’t met him. Five seconds and you’d see the guy is cut out to be a dad.”

                “And what about her?”

                He was silent, “I don’t know. It’s up to her, I guess.”

                “She seventeen. She’s nowhere near being legal. Chanyeol could go to jail for this.”

                His eyes narrowed, “Is that your plan? Can’t get anything on all of us so you take us down one by one?”

                “I haven’t decided what I’m doing yet.” You said honestly, “but I know I’m here talking to you instead of the police. Read into that what you will.”

                He frowned, but didn’t say anything.

                “Tell me this,” you said, “was this a… willing… union?”

                “What? Of course!” He grinned, “Yeah, yeah very willing. And loud. And by the sounds of it, pretty damn satisfied.”

                You frowned, but said nothing. She might be underage, but it all seemed consensual, much as you might disapprove. You can only imagine how Ha-Young’s stern nursemaid would feel about the whole thing.     

                “Are there any other young potentially pregnant girls I should know about?”

                He shook his head, “we know they’re dangerous, we stick to people who know what they’re getting into. And Suho’s fiancé, of course.” He laughed, “you’d love her, she’s a fierce woman, she wouldn’t take any crap from security guards either.”

                You coloured, “I wasn’t about to let them manhandle you, Sora already went too far.”

                “Sora? That’s her name? I’ll remember that.”

                You frowned again, but let it pass. You seemed to be letting a lot slide with him these days. What could Chen do from in here anyway? But on that topic…

                “Xiumin have anything interesting to say?”

                He grinned, crossing his arms, “Wouldn’t you like to know? But you were there, you heard everything we said.”

                “I doubt I understood properly.”

                “I doubt that too.” He said, “But he’s in some bad shape.” He was redirecting the conversation, but you went with it, aiming to redirect it back later.

                You nodded, “Sora’s got a temper, and it seems like she’s just going to take out her frustration out on him. If he won’t give her any answers, at least she can discipline him.”

                “The rest of your team like that?”

                “I don’t know.” You said honestly, “I was only brought up for this case, I haven’t worked with them all before and I’ve barely spoken to them at all.” You could see his interest was piqued, so you continued, “I know who’s in charge of Baekhyun, he’s in rough shape too, probably as bad as Xiumin, I think he gets sent down every day, but maybe at a slightly lower intensity? And the man who’s in charge of Chanyeol, he seems laid back but you never know, I haven’t actually seen Chanyeol in person to know what state he’s in.”

                “Too busy flirting with security guards?” Chen smirked, at your expression, “don’t think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you, jumping to your every order. He ask you for a spanking?”

                You contained yourself from rising to his baiting, “I don’t engage in relationships in the workplace.”

                “Not even a quickie? I bet I could show you a good time.”

                “A sincerely doubt it,” you rolled your eyes, forcing the image of Chen’s body out of your mind. “I take a lot of work.”

                His eyes gleamed, “Is that a challenge, Miss Kang?”

                You looked at him, “like I said, I don’t engage in relationships in the workplace. Besides, I don’t think you’re up for it.” You grinned at him before you stood up, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

                “Leaving already? You just got here.”

                “Yeah well, I’ve got a meeting with my boss so hopefully he’s not firing me.” You head to the door.

                “Why would they fire you?” Chen asked, and you heard him stand.

                “Apparently he thinks I should beat you more, him and the rest of the planet,” you said over your shoulder before leaving the room and heading down to your office on the third floor to catch up on administrative stuff before your meeting later with Mr. Im.

                You also did some more googling of Park Ha-Young’s family and background, whistling at the sheer range that her families company covered. Old money and new money, if only you had the same luck. Well, perhaps not, because karma certainly didn’t seem on her side at the minute.

=====

                You had half an hour until home time, and this time you’d promised yourself that you were actually going home. No hanging around watching Chen like a creep, no going out, no drinking, just a quiet night at home because you damn well deserved one. Maybe you’d order a pizza. You left your bag in your office, making a mental note to come back for it before you left today, your phone was in it anyway so you knew there was no way you’d leave without it.

                It was with these thoughts that you made your way up to the fourth floor, knocking on Mr. Im’s office door.

                “Who is it?”

                “Kang Eunji, sir.”

                “Wait one moment please.”

                You stepped back from the door, allowing him to finish up whatever he was doing. After a few minutes he appeared at the door, gesturing wordlessly for you to enter.

                Instead of sitting at his desk, he gestured over to an L-shaped corner sofa that you’d somehow never noticed before. Stupid high-ranking good for nothings, all you had was a wheely chair.

                He sat down on the other side of the couch, his knee almost knocking yours, as he put down a glass of water in front of you. “I can’t stand the water from the fountains here, I bring my own supply every week. Here, have a taste. You’ll never go back to fountain water again.” He sipped at his own glass as he leaned back against the cushion, loosening his tie a fraction. What happened to the tense stressed man from two days ago? Had he found something? Had he found Ha-Young? Or was he giving up, resigning himself to the reality of the situation?

                You’d never seen him this…. Relaxed? No, he didn’t seem relaxed, but there was a different energy around him today, a kind of languid fog? You took another sip of the water, there was a different taste to it than the fountain water to be sure, but you couldn’t quite place it.

                “Thank you, sir.” You said, placing the glass back on the table.

                “Not a problem,” he waved a hand. “Have to spoil my favourite interrogator every now and then don’t I?”

                Favourite interrogator? You didn’t respond, but you leaned on your other leg, taking yourself a fraction away from him. Something was off about him today. He was putting you on edge.

                “How are you feeling about the case?” He asked, seeing you weren’t going to respond.

                You shrugged, using it as an excuse to shuffle over a bit more, “It’s hard work trying to get anything out of them, but we’re all doing the best we can.”

                “You handled Chen very well yesterday.”

                “Thank you, sir.”

                His knee pressed against yours. How was that, you’d moved away from him, had he moved closer?

                “I’m a little concerned that you might be getting too invested in him.” He said, leaning forward, obvious this time, “And Yoona came to me to say she is concerned as well, the ease that you got him to move rooms, the protectiveness you show over him, there’s even a report that you had a guard demoted just for harassing Chen.”

                “The guard had no business-” You started to protest, but you couldn’t find the words, and you stuttered to a stop. Your mind was foggy, you couldn’t, it was like when you’d gone to the dentist for your wisdom teeth removal…. You looked at the glass of water on the table, still half full, but half empty.

                “They’re just prisoners.” He said slowly, as if he knew your mind was struggling to process it, “but I know how hard it is, working all the time, that desire for a spark of human contact.” His hand slid over your knee, pushing your skirt back just a touch, “I can help you with that.”

                With effort, you slapped his hand away, crawling away further on the sofa until your back was pressed against the arm, you clung to it for balance as the room started fading out of focus, “Did you drug me?”

                He moved over, thigh pressed against yours, arm over the back of the chair and caressing your shoulder as he caged you in, “You’re a beautiful girl, talented, I could help you in this field. Get you a bigger office, hire those two friends you have underneath you to work on bigger cases?”

                “I can’t believe this,” You said, recognising that your words were slurring in a way they never did with alcohol, “You’re supposed to be a good person.” He was Mr. Im, respectable, disciplined, honourable, and here he was trying to get you to throw away your dignity for your career. Here he was drugging you, what did he plan to do to you? How long had he been planning this? Was this always the plan?

                “Eunji.” He said your name,

                “No.” You slurred, not having the capacity to say what you really wanted. You wanted out. You wanted him gone. You wanted the safety of locked doors. You wanted Chen.

                “We both want this.”

                “No!” You said, louder this time, gripping the couch harder as the room span even more.

                “Don’t worry about that, it only lasts a few hours, more than enough time.” He purred, “I’m only helping you loosen up a bit.” His hand landed on your thigh and ran up, under your skirt, pressing his fingers against the juncture of your thighs. Your eyes were stinging and you registered that you were crying. You felt his breath on your neck, hot and sticky, he was too close, you couldn’t breathe, you needed air.

                You needed to get out.

                Now.

                You stood, rocketing up quickly and stumbling to the door, not looking back as you ran through the hallway to the stairs. The elevator would take too long, he could come after you, he could catch you. It was sheer luck you’d managed to break his hold this time, he probably hadn’t expected you to fight back, but if he found you a second time in this state…

                What should you do? Where should you go? Your phone was in your office downstairs, but you weren’t even sure you had enough left in you to make a call, nevermind actually get out a functioning sentence to someone on the other end. The building was deserted, everyone had gone home, there was no one left to help you. Well, almost no one

                You grabbed the railing and pulled yourself up, stair after stair, staggering up until you reached the sixth floor. You could barely make out the edges of doorways now, your vision was blacking at the edges. You needed a locked door, you needed a barricade, Mr. Im could be behind you.

                You pulled yourself to your feet again, this time grabbing a door handle and swiping your key card across it, slamming it behind you and sinking to the ground. You felt your body shaking with cold and fear, sobs tearing through your body. No one was here, no one would find you. You were all alone. You reached forward, dragging yourself along the cold floor to reach the second door. There was someone behind it, there was someone who would help you, there was someone able to protect you if Mr. Im came looking.

                But your vision darkened, and you felt the last strength leave your limbs, collapsing them on the floor. You couldn’t move. Your eyes closed and you felt yourself sinking into darkness, alone, fingers brushing the door that you just couldn’t open. Reaching towards the one man you trusted to keep you safe.

                You awoke, hours later. Well, you assumed hours later, you had no phone and you didn’t wear a watch. You body was frozen with cold from lying on the floor, muscles sore and stiff, a bad taste in your mouth from where you’d accidentally bit your tongue during it all.

                Knees to your chest, you sat on the floor, trying to bring some heat to your body, but to no avail. You tried to think of something else, anything else, of the pizza you’d planned to have that evening, but your mind kept circling back to him.

Was this why they hired you? Had he pretended not to know you at the beginning so he could swoop in and be the big kind mentor? Was this what they thought of you? Just the girl from the third floor who’d spread her legs for praise? Who’d bend over for a promotion? Who could be forced and coerced, and who was so worthless she could be drugged if necessary?

                And Yoona, he’d mentioned her, was she in on this? Were all of them? Did they all know that you were brought on the case just so Mr. Im could have his fill? God, how they must be laughing at you now. And Sora, was this her explanation for hating you? Was she basing her opinion of you on actual facts, instead of baseless rumours like you’d assumed?

                Had this happened before, to some other poor girl hoping for a bright career, another girl trying to make some good in the world?

                This wasn’t your chance to prove yourself at all, this wasn’t your big break, this was just you being used for his enjoyment. None of them actually believed in you, none of them believed you could actually do this. And you should have known better, what business did a girl from the third floor have on the sixth? Maybe you should have stayed in your lane where you belonged, maybe you’d have preferred to never work on this case, to never work here at all, to never meet Mr. Im.

                You shivered again, and tucked your arms closer to your body, but there was no heat to be found there either.

                You looked up and saw movement in the room. Was it Chen? Why was he still awake?

You pulled your sore body to stand, and watched him through the glass. He was walking around in a pattern, over and over again. Obviously he was doing something, but you really just didn’t have the energy to care. Not now.

Your fingers were stiff as they grasped the door handle, but you managed to pull it open. His eyes jumped to you immediately, breaking out of his strange walking routine.

“What happened to you?” His voice was a whisper, and you were glad. But you didn’t want to say, you couldn’t-, your eyes were already pricking with tears again and your throat was closing up the way it always did when you were about to cry. You shook your head, looking at the ground, folding your arms back around yourself.

In a second you were engulfed in warm body heat as he wrapped his arms around you. He brushed a hand through your hair, “hey, hey, it’s ok, I’ve got you.” By now the tears were falling, tricking down your cheeks and clinging to your chin before they dropped. You clutched at his jumpsuit as he bent to scoop you up, and you were weightless for a moment as he carried you. You felt that he sat down, but your eyes were too blurred with tears to see. You only knew that he was here, your hair, warming you up, pressing your face into his collarbone and letting the material soak up your tears.

And when darkness surrounded you again, at least this time it was warm.