Swept Up in Lies | | pjm

Bad Boy Complex

I absently watched the grape-headed boy as he gently tended to the wounds he and his pals had given me earlier. Yoongi had ordered him to take me to the room they had prepared and "freshen me up." Now here I was, in a large t-shirt and basketball shorts that I had to hold up to avoid exposing myself to the world. "Look sweetheart-"

"Would you stop calling me that? I was your boss only a few hours ago," I snapped. I actually had no idea how long ago that was. There were no windows anywhere, so there was no telling what time of day it was. He paused to look up at me.

"And now you're my prisoner," he smirked before continuing to disinfect my wounds with the red-tinted wipe. I rolled my eyes. "As I was saying. If you want any chance of getting out of here alive, you've got to stop with the back-talk. The Boss doesn't take to that kind of stuff too keenly."

"Oh, and if I break down in tears, pleading at his feet instead, he's going to pity me and let me go?" I retorted sarcastically. "Why are you even telling me this anyways? I'm your prisoner, remember?" I heard him sigh, but he didn't say anything, and continued tending to my wounds.

"Are you ok?" I blinked a few times before realizing the question had come from Taehyung's mouth. I didn't even know that phrase was in his dictionary.

"Me?" He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. He made it seem like I was the crazy one here.

"Do you see anyone else in this room?" I gave a half-laugh before answering.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine and dandy. I don't think my day could get any better! My secretary betrayed me, I was kidnapped by a madman, and I just found out my boyfriend was a gang member. What about you? How has your day been?"

"Should've just tossed you in a ditch when I had the chance," he muttered, looking back down as he bandaged the last wound. "Jungkook should be here soon with better fitting clothes. For now, just sit in here and behave. There are cameras everywhere in this building, so there's no use in trying anything," he warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it Grape," I called out dryly as the door closed behind him. I had to find a way of here. Fast.

Yoongi

Watching the cameras in my office, my lips curled downwards at the nickname she had given Taehyung. I didn't like how close the two were getting. She was going to learn real quick just how much of a madman I was. I let Taehyung's special treatment towards her slide, assuming he probably had a soft spot for the girl after being her secretary for almost 4 years. He knew his boundaries. The rules of the house were made very clear. No attachments. No touching my property. If his fondness for the prisoner starts to get out of hand, I will have to take action.

I chuckled humorously as I watched her search the room. What did she think she was going to find? Moments later, Jungkook came in with a bag of clothes for her to change into. Good. Those baggy clothes really didn't suit her. As she began to strip, I turned my gaze away from the screen. Since when did I care about giving a girl privacy, or about what clothes she had to wear? I let out an irritated sigh before shoving her cell phone Taehyung had confiscated into my back pocket, and grabbing my gun. It was time to put my plan into action.

Yuna

My head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. Jungkook walked into the room, a bag in his hand which I assumed contained the clothes Taehyung told me about.

"Camera, upper-left corner," he whispered hurriedly as he handed me the bag in one swift movement. I kept my façade to avoid arousing any suspicion, but I was made puzzled once again by one of Yoongi's cronies. He didn't need to help me, but it made me smile at the thought of him caring. He probably just wanted to let me know so I could change away from prying eyes. I slipped on the light blue skinny jeans and white t-shirt. Such an odd combination, but I wasn't going to complain. It was better than both the dress and the basketball shorts. As I was folding up the clothes I was wearing previously, the door flew open again.