Beautifully Cruel

Chapter 5

JENNIE

I dream I'm running through a dense forest at night. Moonlight streams down through the boughs of tall trees, dappling the forest floor ghostly white between patches of dark undergrowth.

Howls come from all around, rising up to the canopy in eerie echoes through the cold evening air.

All is silent except the howls, the sound of my labored breath, the thud of my feet pounding against the earth, and the dry crunch of dead leaves. 

I'm trying to catch up with the big, dark animal loping through the trees far ahead of me.

It turns its head, looking back with eyes that flash quicksilver through the shadows. It bares sharp white teeth in a wolfish grin, then lowers its big muzzle near to the ground and lunges forward, sprinting away, leaving me calling out in frustration as it disappears into the darkness.

I awaken with a gasp and jerk up in bed, wincing at the pain that shoots through my body from the movement.

"Bad dreams?"

Taehyung sits calmly in the chair beside my bed with a book in his hands, one leg crossed over the other, so handsome he can't be real.

I swallow, wanting my heart to stop being a jackhammer. "No. In fact, I was dreaming of you."

He gazes at me steadily. Very softly, he says, "A nightmare, then."

It's evening now: beyond the window, all the world is dark. The lights in the room have been dimmed, too, and the noisy buzz of the daytime hospital has turned to a hush.

"Do you always wear a suit and tie?"

His lips quirk. I think he enjoys my random changes in conversation. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Do I seem like the sort of man who would wear sweats?"

"What about at home? You can't sleep in that suit. What do you wear to bed?"

Holding my gaze, he says, "Nothing."

Holy shit. Inside my body, muscles I didn't even realize I own have clenched.

He says suddenly, "When I take you home, that will be the end of it. Understood?"

By "it" he means "us." Not that there is an us, but he's obviously determined it's not even an option.

I don't want to feel hurt by that, but I do. I don't want to be so intrigued by this dangerous stranger, but I am. I know in my heart there isn't a future with him, that I'm better off staying far, far away...but he's a puzzle I've been trying to solve for so long, it's disappointing to walk away when the pieces are finally starting to come together.

"Jen. Look at me."

Instead of obeying him, I look down at my hands, almost as pale as the scratchy cotton sheets they're resting on.

I need a manicure. What a strange thing to notice at a time like this.

"Jen."

"I heard you. You don't want to see me again."

"That's not what I said. Look at me."

His voice is too seductive to ignore for long. When I glance at him, he's sitting forward in the chair with his forearms resting on his knees, hands clasped, staring at me with that blistering intensity of his.

"I wouldn't be good for you," he says, his tone soft. "I don't lead a normal life."

I say crossly, "I'm aware. Did you think I missed the part where you smashed two guy's faces in and snapped another one's neck like a twig?"

A muscle flexes in his jaw. "So we're in agreement."

I study him for a moment, all his tension and iron self-control, the way he seems to have a chokehold on the chain that's wound around his own neck. But underneath the careful control lurks resignation.

"Question, Mr. Kim: why are you trying so hard to stay away from me?"

"I told you. I wouldn't be good for you."

"Yet here you are. Again. Giving the suggestion of major ambivalence."

His expression sours. "Argumentative little thing, aren't you?"

"I'm studying to be an attorney. This is good practice." To prove it, I continue the argument. "Even more than a man who doesn't seem like he wears sweats, you don't seem like a man who lies to himself."

His voice turns hard. "Wanting you and taking you are two different things."

Taking you. The implications leave me breathless.

I don't chase after men. It's undignified.

I turn my attention back to the scratchy sheets and say quietly, "Give me a minute to get dressed, please."

"Dressed?"

"I told you. I want to go home."

"I think you should stay here until tomorrow."

His tone is firm, but he's not the boss of me. I don't care that everyone else kowtows to him. I won't.

"It's not your decision."

Silence reigns for a long, uncomfortable moment. I wonder when the last time was that someone defied him, if ever.

Finally, he stands, buttoning his jacket. "Good for you."

He doesn't look back as he walks from the room, closing the door behind him.