Beautifully Cruel

Chapter 9

TAEHYUNG

She falls asleep like children do. Fighting it at first, stubbornly rebelling, until the lids droop and the breathing changes and suddenly they're gone like a light switched off and not even a bomb could disturb them.

Her arm is a dead weight as I ease it from around my body. Her mouth is slightly open, full lips parted as she draws deep, even breaths. She doesn't stir when I rise from the bed, or when I don my jacket and shoes, or when I pull the covers over her shoulders and stand staring down at her for a long, long time.

Taking that first step away from her toward the bedroom door is disturbingly difficult.

Locking the front door to her apartment behind me is even harder.

Exiting the building without turning back around is the hardest of all.

As I knew he would be, Namjoon is waiting for me at the curb in the Escalade. He starts the car the moment I emerge through the lobby doors and doesn't say a word as I open the door and get settled in the back seat. We pull smoothly away and drive for a while in silence.

Until I say, "Go ahead. Let's hear it."

I drop my head back against the seat and close my eyes. I expect darkness, relief, but instead an image of Jen's smiling face appears under my lids.

Christ, those eyes are haunting.

"But..."

I open my eyes and find Declan studying me in the rearview mirror. "But?"

He tilts his head thoughtfully, looks back at the road. "Rules are made to be broken. Even if they're your own."

I huff out a laugh. "You know as well as I do how badly it could go wrong."

"I'm not sure she's as fragile as you think."

"They all are."

"Aye, and they're all afraid of you, too." He glances at me again. "Except she isn't. Wasn't afraid of me, either. That's something."

"What do you mean, she wasn't afraid of you?"

"I mean she gave me lip when I told her to be careful when I dropped you two off earlier. You know when the last time was that someone gave me lip? Never. But she did. Straight up. Told me to go fuck myself in so many words, and did it with a smile."

I stare at him, incredulous. "Are you telling me you think this is a good idea?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I don't know. Maybe nothing."

His pause is loaded, and I know he's carefully choosing his words.

"But she was about to get shot—or worse—and she fought back. You saw it yourself. On the ground, outnumbered, beat up, gun in her face, she throws a punch instead of all the other things she could've done. Begging for mercy. Giving up. Crying."

He lets it hang there, knowing I have enough personal memories of men far stronger than she doing exactly that.

Aggravated, I yank on the knot in my tie because it suddenly feels like a noose. "So she's a fighter. That doesn't make it right."

"Aye," he agrees, nodding. "But maybe it makes it a little less wrong."

I glare out the window, muttering a curse. I can't believe he's saying this. Him, of all people. I expected him to be silently seething with disapproval, not taking her side.

Not admiring her.

"You've been alone a long time, Tae. If you were careful—"

My temper breaks. I glare at him and thunder, "I won't risk her life!"

Namjoon's expression doesn't change. His grip stays loose on the steering wheel, his gaze doesn't dart away in panic. He simply meets my eyes in the mirror and tells me a devastating truth.

"You say that like you haven't already."

I grit my teeth and look out the window, hating that he's right. Hating myself for letting it get this far.

I had a chance, when all I was doing was memorizing her profile while she poured me bad coffee. Before I knew the particular way she falls asleep. What her skin smells like after a shower. How her body feels pressed against mine.

How deeply satisfying it feels to protect her.

No, more than satisfying—fulfilling.

As if it were the thing I was born to do.

But I can't undo what I've done. I can't go back to that first day I saw her eleven months ago, helping an old woman cross a busy boulevard, stopping traffic by holding up her hand as the light turned from red to green. I can't unfeel what I felt when she glanced up and our eyes met through the windshield for a moment before she turned her attention back to the old woman doddering by her side.

She was beautiful, but I've seen a thousand beautiful girls.

Never one who looked so fierce, though.

With her jaw set and her mouth pinched and her brows drawn together, she looked like she'd rip the head off anyone who dared to honk his horn at the painfully slow progress she and her elderly friend were making.

She was a lioness. Even without opening her mouth, I heard her roar.

So yes, it was simple curiosity that made me tell Namjoon to pull over. Yes, it was on a whim that I watched her wave goodbye to the old woman when they reached the other side of the street. Yes, I fully admit it was foolish of me to follow her into Buddy's Diner, and to sit in her section that first time.

But it was sheer stupidity that I kept coming back.

As long as I was out of the country, I could tell myself I wouldn't see her again. I thought I had the strength to stay away. But as soon as I returned, the wanting rushed back. The pull to see those clear green eyes. The need to hear that lilting voice and see that shy smile and be near her, if only for a moment.

Now, because I indulged myself, I'm well and truly fucked.

Because need and want have turned into something more powerful. Something darker and far more perilous, for us both.

So now I have two options.

Option one: claim her.

Option two: give her up.

I can't bring myself to do either.

"Namjoon."

"Aye?"

"What do you do when you have to decide between two impossible choices?"

Our eyes meet in the mirror. He says, "Create a third."

A third.

Claim her or give her up. Those are the choices at hand. But if I created a third choice from those two, what would that look like?

My heart stops when it comes to me.

Then I exhale a hard breath and stare out into the passing night, shaken by the knowledge that this idea is mad, reckless, and incredibly dangerous.

And one Jen will agree to.

Which makes it the most selfish idea I've ever had.

But even knowing all that, how wrong it is on every level, how selfish and wrong, I'm gripped by a violent, almost overpowering need to turn the car around, kick down the door to her apartment, shake her awake, and put the idea to her right now.

So to prove to myself I still have a shred of self-control, I clamp my jaw shut and let Namjoon drive me farther and farther away from her, deeper into the night.

In a life full of dark moments and hardships, it counts as one of the hardest things I've ever done.