22| Lying Little Bitch

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The tension in Jungkook's face tells you he isn't lying.

If you really had the urgency to leave, you would have tried harder, fought harder to do just that. But you couldn't. There's always something stopping you. Someone.

Eyes hooded, you stare at Jungkook closely, capturing every flickering emotion, every frozen thoughts that slyly shape his acute face.

Your lashes blink back defiance. A degree of hesitation you didn't think you'd use at a time like this.

"I won't leave," you whisper. Three words you think you'd never say. It's quietly said, almost like you don't want him to hear it.

For a moment, there's a forgotten melody like silence that awkwardly roams the air between the two of you. You're not sure if he even heard you.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," says Jungkook, eyes not leaving the road. "Because—I swear to God, if you developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome, I'm going to kill you."

A second of surprise before a scoff escapes your lips. "You're crazy," you retort. "I want to leave—the hell I do. But not before I..."

Not before you see Namjoon and everyone else.

It's an obvious request. The only reason you're here right now—alive, is because of them. It doesn't feel right to leave without acknowledging their efforts.

You exhale through the memories of how you almost got shot by Sam. That was, thankfully before Jin showed up in his shining armor to save you. Except not with an armor but with a grenade.

"Not before you what?" Asks Jungkook, glancing at you. "If you're going to thank my subordinates, then you're thanking the wrong people. The orders were given by me."

A frown shapes your face. "Subordinates?" You peep. "Does that mean they work for you?"

There's a small smirk playing over his lips now. "You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

You fiddle with your fingers, twisting and turning them. There's a million of surmises you've made about Jungkook that it's impossible to confirm anything.

He was on the criminals records list. He's familiar to you to a minor extent. And he's rich—Just like that. The only conclusion you could possibly arrive at is Jungkook being an illegal businessman.

You open your mouth to answer, but a metallic ping cuts you off. Jungkook stretches an arm over the dashboard compartment of the car.

He hands you a phone that you stare at blankly. The case is familiar, with a cherry blossom print that sends you gawking at it with realization.

It's your phone.

There's not a single crease or crack on it. In fact, it looks brand new. After drenching it in the water, you expected it to not work at all.

Besides, even if it did work, you thought Jungkook might have discarded it. Or maybe he just bought you a new one.

"Call whoever you need to. Tell them you'll be home soon."

Disoriented, you slowly take it from him, not sure what to say. Your eyes sting as you stare at your dad's caller ID. But before smashing the dial button, you turn to Jungkook, bemused.

"You do realize I could use this against you, right?"

He flicks the signal for a lane change.

"If you report me to the cops, Red, you'll be in jail with me—considering how you almost shot someone and zoomed past several red lights. With these allegations, who knows, you might spend more time than me in jail. So please, call the police."

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