A routine emerged in its earliest formation over the next week. No longer was I left alone from sun up to sun down with the occasional unexpected run-in. Sehun suddenly was around more, conducting his business from the house rather than wherever he was before.

I took over breakfast without a second thought. Sehun shuffled into the kitchen, dressed in his usual uniform of a white button and black sacks. Sometimes he would drop on the stool across from me while other times he watched me cook while leaning against the counter a mere foot away. Once we were both done eating, I would follow him to the library where he would bunker down at the large desk as I wandered around, plucking a book off the shelf and picking at random a large chair to read for the next several hours.

Around lunch time, I would go to the kitchen and make the two of us something to eat and resume my reading until dinner again. Sometimes after that final meal was finished, Sehun and I would talk at the kitchen island. Getting him to reveal anything about himself, but on occasion a story of when they all were younger and much more rebellious would slip out.

He confirmed for me what Yixing had already said in the fact that he grew up in this business. As a child, he didn’t realize what his father did for a living, what provided this lavish lifestyle that most only saw from afar. His mother tasked herself with hiding the family secret from him. But when his mother passed away from cancer and his father brought him into the harsh reality.

“It was strange,” he mused, staring at the granite. A long, thin finger scraped against the smooth surface, as if he were drawing the memory out for me. “Everything changed and yet nothing did. My friends were still my friends, now instead of sneaking out at night to go to the movies, we were running errands for our fathers, sitting in on small meetings, being groomed to take over.”

“What happened to all of them?” I’d asked, looking down at my hands and hoping that I hadn’t hit a topic that would cause him to clam up and storm out. “Your fathers, I mean.”

“Junmyeon’s and Jongin’s fathers are hiding out in the Philippines,” he answered. “The rest of them are dead. Hazard of life choices.” He shifted awkwardly in his chair, his brows crinkling together. “Baekhyun’s father… took his own life after his wife was killed.”

A gasp sharply left my throat. It didn’t compute. Baekhyun–perhaps the brightest personality out of all of these supposedly dark men–had maybe the most tragic backstory. A newfound admiration grew within me.

“Don’t mention it around him,” Sehun warned, his eyes hardening.

“Absolutely not.” Though I had a tendency to say whatever came to my mind without thinking in this environment, I knew when to have a limit.

“Good,” he nodded, softening up again. “Anyway, things really changed when Junmyeon took over. He wanted to be better than the ones that came before us. Actually, about seventy-five percent of our business is legit, it’s that remaining twenty-five we can’t seem to shake off.”

“So, what? No going around killing people and such?” I asked, somewhat cheekily.

Sehun grimaced. “Not quite Godfather level, but there are other families fighting for more power underground. Sometimes they lash out, try to prove something and we have to put them back in their place. Other times we’re threatened and have to strike first.” He put down his chopsticks and looked me in the eye. “I won’t sugar-coat it, Wren. We’re still criminals as far as the law is concerned. Our hands are covered in red.”

I tried to wrap my head around it all, to fully acknowledge the reality around me, but it felt like forcing a square peg into a round hole. No matter which way it was twisted, it would never go through. I had peeked behind the curtain and I was no longer afraid. Of any of them.

At the beginning of the following week, one or two of the others started joining Sehun in the library. They poured over documents and watched a video feed that was always angled away from me. In an effort to pretend to be reading or perusing the books on the second level, I snuck glances at the guests, trying to imagine them holding a gun to a person’s head or intimidating some low level criminal.

A few were easier to imagine than others. Sehun–though his harsh exterior was beginning to soften–still had that grim first impression. And despite his kindness and boyish smile, Jongin was another where it wasn’t too hard to imagine in that scenario. His coldness from the alley that night wasn’t easily forgotten nor the hawk-like look that came over his face when the smile disappeared.

On the other hand, Baekhyun and Yixing were nearly impossible to picture that way. The golden retriever and the good doctor, that was who they were to me. It was an illusion, I knew, but one that I feared for the day it might be shattered.

I wasn’t the only watcher in that library, though.

I thought I was being sneaky in my glances, spacing them out and none longer than two seconds. But every so often, Sehun would be looking up as well. Eye contact was made before we both quickly looked away. Jongin would catch me, too, but his gaze remained a little longer–much longer than mine where I would look down in embarrassment.

The mansion had become home. A notion I never would have thought possible almost a month ago. I treated the place as if I were back at my apartment. I cleaned up after myself, I went anywhere whenever I felt like it and I didn’t feel the need to sneak around on my toes or be unusually quiet.

This morning, I was craving a very specific American breakfast food: pancakes. Sugary, void of nutrition, and very, very delicious. It was still early when I made my way down to the kitchen and started on breakfast. The smell of the batter filled up the kitchen as I bobbed my head along with the pop radio.

With extra care, I stacked three perfect jacks onto a plate and set the island with butter and silverware.

Syrup! 

I had nearly forgotten that very important component. I opened up almost every cabinet trying to find a bottle of syrup, kicking myself for not looking for it before I started cooking. “There you are!” Naturally, the bottle was all the way on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Grunting, I stretched for the bottle, willing my fingers to grow a few centimeters longer. All they did was graze against the fading label. 

Another hand snuck behind me and snatched the bottle off the shelf. Turning around, I nearly head butted Sehun’s chest. His unexpected closeness pulled a small squeak from my throat. He gazed down at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Special occasion?” he questioned.

I shrugged. “Nope. Just… felt like pancakes.” I pointed to the island. “They’re ready for you.”

Nodding, Sehun took a step back and walked over to his usual seat. As he sat down, he slid the second plate from my own side of the island over next to him. I knit my eyebrows together in confusion.

“What?” Sehun asked, cutting into his pancakes. “You don’t want to sit next to me?”

“No, it’s fine,” I said quickly, practically running to the stool. Sehun poured me a glass of milk. We were a strange pair of roommates. This scene was better fit for a rom-com over a suspenseful thriller. 

“Wren,” Sehun said softly, in a serious tone.

He caught me mid-chew. “Hm?” 

He put his fork down and looked me in the eye. “Can I ask you a favor?” I nodded slowly. “Stay in your room today, please. Only come down if you really need to.”

I took a big gulp of milk to clear out my mouth. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped, forcing my back to straighten up at the sudden harshness. He flinched at my reaction. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you. Just… trust me, okay?”

“Is it an order?” I couldn’t help but challenge his request.

“A very strong suggestion,” he countered. There was worry in his eyes as he held my gaze. They were pleading with me to listen to him.

I lowered my head, giving in. “Okay.”

A lock of hair fell out from behind my ear and onto my face. I blew out a rush of air to make it move, but the strands merely fell back into its place unwanted. Sehun reached out and pushed the hair back to its place behind my ear. The unexpected gesture sent my heart running into a sprint.

Like it was a normal moment between us, Sehun turned back to his breakfast and continued eating. The conversation faltered. I didn’t protest when he took all the dishes and started cleaning up the left behind mess himself.

I watched his back, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong or that they were about to do something very dangerous. Sehun said they still got their hands dirty. How much dirt–or blood–would be staining their hands today?

Before he could exit the kitchen, I urged, “Please be careful.”

He stopped, his back still to me so I couldn’t see his face. In a soft, barely-there voice, he replied, “Always am.”

I didn’t go straight to my room once I was finished eating, instead opting to stop by the library and stock up. Sehun never mentioned that I couldn’t take the books out of the library. The only reason I hadn’t before was because I preferred to stay there, near him. Armed with novels, snacks, and liquids, I made the march up to my room, my cage for the day. 

**

This level of boredom hadn’t been experienced since I was brought to the house. The rebellious side of me was beginning to peek its head into view. I was never one to go against the rules–especially when danger was involved–but right now that rebellion inside was starting to grow, wanting to sneak out for even the smallest of reasons. For hours, I had gone back and forth between watching TV, reading a book, or even dancing crazily to whatever music I could blare through the speakers, like one of those silly montages in a teen comedy.

The snacks ran out around two o’clock. By seven, I’d been cooped up in my room for nearly ten hours without any sign that anyone was actually in the mansion with me. My stomach whined for food that wasn’t packed with sugar and empty carbs.

Jumping off the bed, the rebellion won. I marched down the stairs defiantly, meeting no one along the way. Exactly what I had expected.

My insides gurgled with pleasure at the sound of pork belly popping in a pan while rice fluffed up in the cooker. The vegetables had only just hit the second pan when shouting carried in from the hallway. Thinking it was the men arguing over something minor, I decided to ignore it and continue cooking–until a man I didn’t know stumbled into the kitchen.

The white button up hung off of him in shreds, blood splattered horrifically on the pieces that remained. Cuts nicked on his face and arms while water dripped from his temples and hair. Quicker than I was to react, he pulled a knife from the block and ran to me. I kicked and struggled as he hooked his arm around my waist and placed the sharp edge of the knife against my neck.

The others reached the kitchen seconds later. They halted in their pursuit at the sight of me, now a hostage. Eight guns immediately shot up in our direction.

“Put them down,” the man growled next to my ear, “or I cut the girl open.”

Jongin and Yixing were the first to lower their guns. Jongin let out a cry of frustration as he kicked the wall. One by one, the guns were lowered until only Sehun’s remained.

“Sehun, put it down!” Jongin barked, fire in his eyes. He was only seconds away from tackling his friend to the ground. 

The man tightened his grip and dug the knife a little deeper. A whimper escaped my throat even though I tried to hold it back. Showing fear was the worst thing I could do. 

“I’m a good shot,” Sehun snarled, his hand as steady as a newly poured foundation. “Do you want to test that?”

“Are you willing to risk her?” the man mocked back. The grip across my waist loosened. He drug his hand across my stomach, resting on my hip, the motion sending a chill down my spine.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted my chance. The stove was still within reach and the handle of the double-prong skewer was sticking off the count, just within my reach.

“Sehun, please just put it down!” Jongin begged. The rest kept looking back and forth between us, unsure of what their own next move should be. Giving in, Sehun lowered his gun.

Without giving it a second thought, I grabbed the skewer and shoved the prongs into the man’s stomach. He cried out in pain as I spun out of his vice, my back landing against the fridge. He lunged at me–

BANG!

He dropped to the floor as his blood sprayed over the stove as well as me. I slid down to the floor, unable to take my eyes off the body and the growing pool of blood along the white tile. I finally noticed Junmyeon standing in the doorway to the pantry. His raised gun was smoking and his face void of any emotion. He lowered his gun and looked to his men. 

“Clean it up.”

Just as emotionless, Sehun knelt down in front of me and scooped me up into his arms. I didn’t fight as he carried me upstairs to my room, bypassing the bed for the attached bathroom. As gently as he could, he sat me down in the tub. Taking out a clean washcloth from the cupboard, he ran it under hot water in the sink before coming back and kneeling down beside me. 

He began cleaning the blood from my arms and legs, turning the once pretty towel into a haunting scrap of cloth. I searched for anything in Sehun’s face that might give away what he was thinking, but there was nothing to give way to what was going on behind his eyes. At least he wasn’t yelling at me like I deserved.

The watch on his wrist lit up. He huffed before swiping the screen.

“What?” he snapped.

Jongdae answered back, not a bit affected by Sehun’s attitude. “We need you to come back down and break into his cellphone.” There was no need to explain who’s cell phone it was.

“I’ll be down later,” Sehun informed him.

“No, you will come now,” Junmyeon cut in.

“Junmyeon–”

“Now, Sehun!” The watch went dark, signaling the end of the call.

Sehun let out a wordless yell as he threw the washcloth across the room. I flinched at his outburst, causing him to calm down, gripping the side of the bathtub until his knuckles turned white.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered before leaving me alone.

I’m not sure how much time passed when I was able to function again. It felt like days but perhaps it was only a few minutes. Slowly, I climbed out the tub, picking up the washcloth. In the mirror I counted the speck of blood splattered across my face. With shaking hands, I wiped them away. Even with my face clean, I couldn’t wipe away the memory of the man or his lifeless body hitting the floor. The look in Junmyeon’s eyes had been simply calculating. Remorse was not to be expected.

I stripped off my shirt and shorts and threw them into the trash can. My fingers shook as I turned the faucet on for the shower head. I scrubbed at my skin until it was red and raw. Once finally satisfied that I was clear of all the blood, I put on clean underwear and tied up the bag with my discarded clothes, dragging it out of the bathroom with me. I threw it near the door to take care of it later. The oversized sweater felt like a step closer to the embrace I was desperately needing. A knock came from the door before it opened at a cautious pace. I scrambled away until my back hit the wall. I could only breathe again when I saw that my visitor was Jongin.

He held his hands out in front of him, each step taking seconds to complete. I suddenly felt like a wild animal that he was trying to calm down and convince not to attack him. Tears blurred my vision and spilt over onto my cheeks. Without hesitation Jongin marched up to me and engulfed me in his arms. They were warm and caring. By pure reflex, my own wrapped around his waist. My fingers clutched his shirt, wrinkling the fabric in my fists. The panic and fear and I had been holding back burst forth like a destroyed dam. I cried so hard that it was hard to breathe, the air catching in my throat. Jongin sat down on my bed and pulled me into his lap as a steady hand continued to rub circles on my back.

“Shhh, it’ll be okay,” he murmured into my hair. “You’re alright. I’m here.”

A selfish thought came across my mind and I hated myself for it. Jongin was doing his best, letting me cry out all my panic and heightened emotion, but I wanted it to be a different pair of arms around me, a different shirt to be enveloped in. I dug my face deeper into Jongin’s chest in an effort to force the thought away, to be thankful for the one who was there.

**

Wren was asleep by the time Sehun made it back to her room. He tried to hack the phone as quickly as he could, but when he was through, Junmyeon dove into a lecture, reprimanding all of them for letting Joo Hyun get past the six of them that were down in the basement. Jongin slipped inside the library about halfway through the speech, the front of his shirt wet and stained.

Sehun’s hands balled into fists under his crossed arms. A possessive rage swept over him, but he succeeded in keeping his face neutral. Whatever Junmyeon was spitting out, it no longer computed. All he could concentrate on was getting back to Wren, making sure she was okay.

Of course she’s not okay. She just saw a man get his brains blown out in front of her.

Sehun blamed himself more than anyone. He’d been too cocky, too confident that they could keep Joo Hyun in the basement, too convinced that Wren would actually listen to him and stay in her room. He didn’t want to lock her up and toss away the key, throwing out any progress that had been made. She’d stayed up in her room a majority of the day. Whenever he’d check the cameras, she was right there in her room, obeying his “suggestion”.

Against his better judgment, Sehun let his eyes flicker back over to Jongin and his wet shirt. If he didn’t put himself in check, his anger would boil over. The force behind this surge in emotion was a mystery. He shouldn’t be so enraged that Jongin had held Wren as she cried, or even gone to check on her at all, but the emotion was impossible to ignore.

“Get out of my sight,” Junmyeon finally huffed, waving his hand in the air.

Sehun leapt to his feet and tried to keep his pace at a fast walk until he was out of sight from the others. He took the steps two at a time until he came to a stop outside of Wren’s door. His hand hesitated on the handle. For a moment, he wondered if she hated him again, if she would throw something at him the second he opened the door. Deciding it didn’t matter, he pushed the door open slowly.

“Wren?”

No answer. The only noise was the heavy breathing of sleep. Closing off the light behind him with the door, Sehun softly made his way over to the bed.

Wren was tucked in under the blankets, curled tightly inward. Her right hand grasped the pillow case desperately as she dug her face in deeper. Sehun carefully sat down next to her on the mattress, careful not to disturb her. She made no movement to say she was aware of his presence. Anger swelled up again when he saw redness and puff of her eyes. If he could go back and save her from ever having to witness that pathetic man’s death, he would in a heartbeat, damned be the consequences.

Locks of Wren’s auburn hair fell onto her face and for the second time that day, Sehun gently pushed the strands behind her ear. He was good at hiding it, the effect this proximity had on him, like how his heart was threatening to pound its way out of his chest when his fingers came in contact with the cloud-like softness of her cheek. The newness of it was daunting.

Even as a teenager, Sehun had no interest in the opposite , in anything outside of his friends and family. He’d rolled his eyes while the others chased after the girls from their class, not caring one bit if any looked his way. As for the girls he brought home on occasion, it was usually more for show, so the guys would stop pestering him. And–he hated to admit it–but he did get lonely sometimes. Those one night stands never even came close to healing whatever was aching inside. He probably couldn’t even remember a single face from those nights if asked to recall.

But Wren’s, he couldn’t get out of his head. 

In the beginning, all he wanted was for her to go away, to be someone else’s problem. Now, he never wanted her to disappear. Protecting her, keeping her out of harm’s way was now his main priority. He’d been determined to fight whatever foreign feeling had been growing in his chest and then send Wren on her way once this whole thing was over, thinking then maybe it would disappear like water in the desert. Seeing her like that, with a knife to in the hands of that scum made his thinking do a one-eighty. This would never go away, he knew that now. So he’d be damned if he ever let her be in a situation like that again.

A sniffle from Wren broke Sehun out of his train of thought. A tear ran down her cheek. Careful not to wake her, Sehun wiped it away before standing up and marching out of her room. 

**

I didn’t leave my room for several days.

That first morning after I woke up, the previous night’s events replayed like a horror film. With no energy to get up and perform my usual ritual, I just stared at the blank TV that was mounted against the wall opposite of my bed. I could vaguely make out my reflection in the black screen. My hair fell over my face, hiding the swollen eyes and blotchy skin that gave evidence that I cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t remember at what point Jongin left my room. With my legs still warm under the covers, I wrapped my arms around my knees, forcing myself to try and think about anything else. But failed miserably. 

Who was that man? Did he have a family? How long had they been torturing him while I was up in my room, oblivious to the evil deeds that were going on two floors below? What had he done to deserve that fate?

I shook my head fiercely and buried my face in the pillow. How could anyone deserve that? The man had been covered in cuts and bruises. He’d been soaked from the shoulders up. Was that a sign that they had been waterboarding him?

Pressing my palms into my eyes, I tried not to picture that scene. I tried not to think of Baekhyun or Kyungsoo consumed by that kind of cruelty. I didn’t want to see any of them in that kind of light. Not anymore.

Why did they have to do that here?

Sometime after ten, Sehun must have realized that I wasn’t coming down. There was a soft knock at my door.

“Wren?” he called out, barely over a whisper. The next call was a touch louder. “Wren?”

I refused to answer. I wasn’t ready to face him. Far from their world, I’d allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of safety here. With simply eating with them, laughing and getting to know them, it was easy to forget what Sehun and Jongin had been telling me this whole time. They were criminals, end of discussion.

I ran to the door and locked it, just in time for Sehun to try to the door.

Sehun huffed in frustration. “I’m going to leave food outside your door. If you get hungry.” He paused. “Wren, I–” He grunted as he pounded his fist against the wall, causing me to flinch. “I can explain everything. Just come find me. When you’re ready.”

I didn’t go to find him, nor did I ever fetch the food. I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything that first day. Sometime in the evening, he came back and switched the food for something fresh. I didn’t take that either.

Day two came and I was at least able to get out of bed. I took a shower, the water hotter than I should have, but the temperature had to be almost boiling in order for me to feel it. My skin pulsed bright red when I stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom. It took too much energy merely to go through the motions of drying my hair and getting dressed, if a t-shirt and house shorts counted as getting dressed.

I kept staring at the door, wondering if I should venture out. In the end, I decided I wasn’t ready. Maybe part of me thought if I just stayed in this room, I could disappear, stop existing all together. Or maybe I was praying that the next time I opened my eyes, I would wake up in my apartment and find out that this was all a terrible dream born of too much wine and bad TV.

Sehun was probably relieved that I finally started eating the food he brought me. He didn’t try to coax me out of the room anymore, only letting me know the food was there and then leaving. Fifteen minutes went by before I cracked open the door and quickly slid in the food. It was nice that he brought it to me, keeping me from having to go down the stairs to get my own meals. I didn’t have the willpower to let myself starve to death.

Throughout the day, some of the others would try to come talk to me. Kyungsoo and Yixing came together. Their goal wasn’t to try and get me to come out of the room, they simply said that they hoped I was okay and if I needed to borrow an ear, then they were available–although Kyungsoo did drop a mention that he might possibly be making dinner, if I wanted to join them.

Jongin stayed the longest, over an hour. He begged me to let him in, to let him know that I was physically okay and that I could trust him, if only I would let him inside. I listened wordlessly as he slid down to the floor, leaning back against the door. His sighs were loud and full of frustration, even through the barrier.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he whispered. “We should have protected you better. Please, come out. Please let us know that you’re okay.”

Finally, a phone call made him leave, however reluctantly.

My resolve broke by day three.

After Sehun brought my breakfast, I ate it quickly and dressed in real clothes. The air was getting colder, so I pulled on a light sweater before heading up to the attic. It was the one place I didn’t think anyone would come looking for me, if they realized I’d left my room at all.

I didn’t bother with any of the artifacts this time, even passing by the chest holding Sehun’s secret past. The rushing air blew open the window with no effort and I stepped out, wondering only briefly if this was safe considering the windy conditions. It was easy to decide that I didn’t care.

Resting my chin on my knees, I stared out to the horizon. Being up there didn’t bring me back to the reality I was currently living like I thought it maybe would. This place was too much like the set up of a novel. Things like this only happened to the heroines in books that belonged on the shelf in the mystery section.

Crime thrillers weren’t nearly my favorite genre, but my friend Kim had been obsessed with them. She’d get excited as she relayed the stories to me, the thrill of the read evident in her eyes. These poor girls would get pulled into mysterious or dangerous crimes because of seemingly random events until there’s no way out. I felt bad for them, but typically you could guess the ending. At least you would know that by the book’s close, they’d be sitting in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around their shoulders while a cop told them it was finally over. Or something to that degree.

Unfortunately, my life wasn’t a novel all perfect put down onto paper already. I didn’t know how this would all end. I could die, wind up in a jail cell for some unfathomable reason, or even… stay here. That final thought didn’t give me the horror that it used to. In fact, I could almost picture it. Almost.

A rustling behind me pulled me out of my thoughts. Sehun climbed out onto the landing, sitting down on the shingles beside me. He didn’t say a word. He kept his face to the horizon beyond.

“How did you know I was up here?” I asked timidly. I didn’t dare to really look at him. Not yet. 

Sehun pointed down to a little black speck that was walking the perimeter of the yard. “One of my men spotted you. They contacted me in case you were thinking of doing something dangerous.”

I shook my head frantically. “No! I just needed fresh air.”

“I’m glad you’ve decided to come out,” he said. “I was worried that all the pestering from the guys would keep you in there.”

I couldn’t tell if he was making a joke. He said it so straightly, like he said most other things. I tugged my knees closer to my chest. “At least they came for more than a second,” I bit. “At least they tried to comfort me or show me that they cared.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sehun stood up and walked behind me. I thought that maybe I’d pissed him off in a record amount of time and he was headed back inside until I saw his long legs stretch out on either side of me. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me in closer to his chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I gasped, stiffening under his touch.

Sehun rested his chin on my shoulder. “Comforting you. You haven’t had any real human interaction for two days. I know I may seem like I am, but I’m not a complete robot.”

My body relaxed against Sehun’s chest, my hands resting on his arms that held me close. They were the arms I wanted three nights ago and here they were, doing what I would have imagined impossible. The sense of safety and warmth they gave was surprising, but I welcomed it fully.

I swallowed, remembering Sehun’s promise to tell me the truth of what happened the other night. If I didn’t ask now, I wasn’t sure I’d have the courage to later. “Who was that man? The one who….” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t need to.

Sehun sighed, his breath rustling my hair. “His name was Kim Joo Hyun. He’d been hired by the Chinese Cartel to gather intel on us. We were sure that we were careful about covering our tracks and doing background checks, but somehow, he’d infiltrated our ranks to continuously gather information on our operations and inner workings. But he’d been holding out on the Chinese. Instead of constantly feeding them information, he put it together in a file. We think he was planning on asking a large sum for it. A very large sum. He was working with John to find buyers that might pay more than the Chinese. There’s plenty out there. We felt like such idiots once we finally caught on.”

“How did you find out?” I asked. It was strange, realizing how much I missed his voice. There was a unique tenor to it, not too deep, but not annoyingly high either, hovering in that perfect middle zone.

“Routine email scan.” Sehun pulled me in closer, tightening his grip. Instead of being frightened, I welcomed the closing gap between us. “He’d hid them pretty well, but I was able to find a few correspondents he had with John and the other man that was in the alley with him that night. By the time we’d caught on, he was in the wind. Finally found him about a week and a half ago, in some seedy hotel.”

I gulped, imagining what their next step was. “So you tortured him?”

“We gave him a chance to give it up,” he answered harshly. He pulled the roughness back, continuing a bit more softly. “We even offered him money for the file. He refused. We had to take more extreme measures. If someone gets ahold of that file, they could take down our entire organization. Everything we’ve worked hard to build up and stabilize, gone just like that.”

My mind flickered to the chip in my phone. Was that the file? Would that really be worth John’s life?

I turned to look at Sehun. He met my eyes with concern. “I warned you that we weren’t the good guys. I just never imagined that you would come this close to the danger. Junmyeon wanted to take him to Jongdae’s, but I insisted on bringing him here. This whole mess is my fault, I needed to clean it up the best I could.” He took my hand in his, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. “I promise you, as long as you’re here, you won’t be in danger like that again.”

Warmth spread slowly from the contact. Every little touch of skin against mine was like a cozy fire in the middle of winter. The of the flames was melting parts of me I hadn’t realized were so numb. “I believe you.”

“Eh-hem.”

Baekhyun and Jongdae stood inside the window, staring at them. Baekhyun was rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly while the other smirked at us. Feeling the tension, I scrambled out of Sehun’s embrace and stepped back through the window.

Sehun followed slowly. “What is it?”

“We couldn’t find you,” Baekhyun answered after clearing his throat. “Your men told us you were up here. I thought you said you’d never step one foot up here again?”

I looked at Sehun, shocked. He merely shrugged. “I say a lot of things. Did you two need something?”

“Just making sure that everything’s okay,” Jongdae’s smirk deepened, throwing me a wink. “Also, Chanyeol thinks he found something from the computer we snatched from Joo Hyun’s hotel room, but he wants you to take a crack at it.”

“Fine,” Sehun huffed, going back to his usual gruff self. “I’m surprised Junmyeon even let him touch it.”

“Junmyeon’s not here,” Baekhyun correct as we headed towards the stairs. “He said he had a meeting with some of the other heads in town. Said he would see us all tomorrow.”

“Right.”

The staircase was narrow, only letting us go down one at a time. Sehun kept a hand near my lower back to help me to keep my balance. I stiffened when I stepped back onto the second floor. Kyungsoo and Jongin were waiting for us. Jongin’s eyes flickered between me and Sehun, but his expression was closed off, unreadable. A wave of guilt crashed into me, though I couldn’t figure out why.

Without a word, I grabbed the handle of the door to my room to head back in. Sehun stopped me, his fingers wrapped around my wrist to keep from turning it.

“You’ve been in there long enough.”

“If she wants to go back to her room, let her,” Jongin barked. His eyes narrowed in on Sehun. Their coldness sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me of the night in the alley.

“I just figured I should be out of the way while you work,” I explained meekly.

Sehun’s gaze didn’t leave me as he shook his head. “You won’t be in the way. Kyungsoo can make you some lunch.”

The aforementioned chef raised an eyebrow at the suggestion but then shrugged. “If she’s hungry.”

I nodded shyly. It was a miracle that my stomach didn’t yell out in joy at not eating cold food that had been sitting in a drafty hallway. Kyungsoo motioned for me to follow him before making his way down the hall to the main staircase after Sehun let go of my wrist. I couldn’t make out what he was whispering about to Jongdae and Baekhyun, they kept their voices low. Jongin kept pace with me, almost in a protective way.

Our group split off in front of the kitchen. I sat at the island while Kyungsoo took ingredients out of the refrigerator.

“Do you want anything in particular?” he asked. I shook my head. “Good. Just sit tight.”

Jongin took the seat next to me, his eyes studying my face. “Did Sehun take you up to the attic?”

“No,” I answered, uncomfortable with the way that Jongin was staring at me. “I found the staircase a while ago. I’ve been kind of using the attic for alone time. The view from the ledge is hard to walk away from.”

“How did Sehun find you?” The question came out accusingly. I shrank back in reflex. Kyungsoo shot Jongin a look, who ignored it.

“One of his men saw me on the overhang underneath the large window,” I explained. “I guess they were worried I was going to try something.”

Jongin grabbed my upper arm in a panic. “Were you?”

“No! Like I said, I was just up there for the view. It’s hard to see everything from inside. I was perfectly fine.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go up there anymore,” Jongin grunted.

I tried to yank my arm out of his grasp, but my strength was nonexistent compared to his. Where was all this coming from? “Last I checked, this was Sehun’s house and he doesn’t have a problem with me going up to the attic. Once he forbids me from going up there, then I’ll stop.”

Something flickered in Jongin’s eyes that I couldn’t catch before it was quickly snuffed out.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat and placed the lunch he had made in front of me, reaching between Jongin and I. He placed his hand on Jongin’s wrist, finally getting him to let me go.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin whispered as soon as Kyungsoo was at the sink cleaning dishes. “With what happened three days ago… It scared me. I don’t want something else bad happening to you.”

“That was brought on by my stupidity and failure to listen,” I whispered back. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.”

Jongin nodded. His eyes were trained on the veins of the granite counter, a million miles away. Standing up, he placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and left the kitchen.

Kyungsoo shook his head. A deep sigh escaped his lips.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to get in trouble?” I asked, somewhat to Kyungsoo, but more to myself.

Apparently, putting my life in danger brought out the affection of two different members. This whole time I had been telling myself that none of Jongin’s attention was true, that it was easy to shrug off because it was only entertainment on his end. But I had been wrong. So incredibly wrong.

“It’s not going to be pretty,” Kyungsoo agreed.