"How do you raise a house full of psychopaths, Dr. Choi?" she asked, looking back through the glass at the small boy.
"Very carefully, Dr. Min. Very carefully."
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Seungcheol cursed as his three hundred dollar hiking boots sank into a muddy rut in the ground. It was the closest thing to a path in the heavy underbrush. It had rained hours ago, making the trek through the woods far more treacherous than he'd imagined. He'd dressed for the occasion in a black long-sleeved shirt and waterproof tactical pants. Even the small bag slung over his shoulder was made for hiking. He just hadn't expected it to be this hot...and dirty. He hated getting dirty.
His boot made an obscene sucking sound as he pulled it free of the muck with a disgusted grunt. He was going to have to find a way to clean that off before he left. He'd never get the filth out of his car if he didn't. The smell of rain and rotting vegetation was permanently imprinted in his nostrils.
His target, a foreigner. Trevor Maynard, was a sniveling little wannabe gangbanger who got off taking advantage of the Asian women his parents employed at their dry cleaners. He wore his shirts too tight and his pants too low and thought tying a bandana around his forehead made him some kind of thug.
Trevor liked to abuse his power, threatening the jobs of his victims to lure them out into the woods where nobody would hear them scream. While Seungcheol's father's insistence on taking the man out in the middle of nowhere to kill him was karmically just, it was also unnecessarily dramatic in Seungcheol's opinion.
Guys like Trevor rarely put up a fight in the face of danger. If anything, he would beg and plead, attempt to use his perceived status—of which he had none—and offer money as a last resort. It would all end the same, with Seungcheol pollacking his brains against the back wall of his shitty cabin. This could have all been done closer to the city.
Still, he didn't argue with his father—just followed orders like the dutiful eldest son he was. The faster he finished the job, the faster he could go home and shower. He had an early day at the office tomorrow. Luckily, the full moon overhead cut a wide beam, allowing him to see without much trouble, even if the clear path was hardly a path at all. He stepped free of the grove of trees, finally finding himself outside the small cabin. Why did these creeps always go for cabins in the woods? Seungcheol found torturing people in the city was just as effective. People had very little problem ignoring the distress of strangers. Sad but helpful in his particular line of work.
An ear-shattering scream pierced the silence, sending a shock of adrenaline through Seungcheol and spurring him into motion without thought. He pulled his gun, making sure he was locked and loaded, silencer in place, advancing on the flimsy cabin door. Why hadn't it occurred to him the man wouldn't be alone?
It took two hard kicks before the door flew in on its hinges, startling the two occupants. His victim was tied to a sturdy wooden chair in the center of the room, bleeding from several oozing wounds and missing no less than three fingers and an earlobe. There was no woman in the room so the scream must have come from his target.
Beside him, a man in his late twenties- maybe stood holding a wicked-looking serrated blade. He wore faded blue jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt that revealed an intricate tattoo down his entire left arm. Seungcheol found himself riveted in place as he took in thick black hair, dark brown eyes, and all his beautiful feminine features. The stranger looked equal parts irritated and surprised, but it was clear he was weighing his options.
