Swept Up in Lies | | pjm

Who Stole the Kookie from the Cookie Jar?

Yuna

I curiously poked at the bandaged wound, still sitting on Yoongi's desk

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." My head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice. I looked at Jungkook in surprise, both at the fact that he was here and that I had never heard him speak in comprehensive sentences before. He was a man of few words, especially around Yoongi.

"I've never been shot before," I mumbled, glancing back down at the tinted-red bandage.

"Who helped you?" He was pointing at the bandage and I assumed he meant who had taken care of my wound.

"Yoongi." I scrunched my brows in confusion when he snorted at my answer. "What's with that reaction?"

"I just find it ironic that the one who shot you is the one who helped you." Yoongi was the one who shot me? That explained his reaction from earlier when I had asked him. "Don't worry. It was a bad shot, so it should heal perfectly fine."

"Funny how that's considered a bad shot," I muttered. He chuckled and I gaped at the pure sound that had come from his mouth. I wanted to hear it again, but I knew that would never happen. Jungkook barely talked. Let along laugh. "Why are you here."

"I have many reasons why I'm here Yuna." I flinched at the sound of my own name coming from his mouth. I had become so accustomed the pet names everyone around here used when referring to me. "And you don't need to worry about the cameras. They've been taken care of." I narrowed my eyes at this. So, he knew about the cameras. And what he was about to tell me, is something he doesn't want Yoongi to know about. Interesting. "This is about to get real confusing, but I need you to stick with me here."

"At this point, nothing can surprise me," I muttered.

"A bunch of crazy shit is probably gonna go down in the next 24 hours." Oh whoop-dee-doo. "And no matter what happens, you will see a man dressed in all black. Don't acknowledge his existence." I gave him a perplexed look.

"You do realize, every single one of you is wearing all black, right?" I watched his eyes briefly scan his body as if he didn't believe me.

"You'll know who it is as soon as you see him. He's not one of us."

"Oh, so he's not a murdering maniac. Finally, someone I can have a normal conversation with!"

"I don't want to see you hurt, but at this point, it's inevitable," he mumbled as he messed with a package of band-aids.

"Jungk-" I was silenced by a light kiss on my forehead, but the bunny boy had left the room before I could say anymore.

Hoseok

What happened to this moron? Did Yoongi hit him that hard? I leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching the purple-haired man gaze around the room in awe. I took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

"So, am I a prisoner now? Do I have to wait for my teammates to come rescue me?"

"Teammates? Do you think this is a fucking game?" I hissed. He looked taken aback at my tone, and I bit my tongue to prevent anything else from spilling out. I took another deep breath. "Tae, you lost your memories. I don't how, but you did, and while I hope they're not permanently gone, I'm not a fucking doctor." I looked away, unable to meet his fear-filled eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was tell Boss, but I would have to eventually. Tae was his right-hand man.

"You won't leave me here alone, will you?" He whimpered. My heart dropped at his tone. I always had a soft spot for the boy, but I would never admit it. Right now, he is scared out of his mind, and I am the only one he has, and he doesn't even know who I am.

"I'm not going to leave you Tae. I'm gonna help you get your memories back. Don't worry."

Yuna

I counted the cotton swabs for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. My hand unconsciously grabbing a swab from the bunch I held in my other hand, and moving it to the container I had just emptied. My faith in Jimin lowered every day, and I began to think he had just decided to forget about me and move on with his life. I jumped as the door slammed open, the bunch of swabs flying out of my hand and onto the floor.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, not looking at the cold man in front of me as I attempted to scoot off the table to pick up the mess.

"Stop." I froze at his command, his demanding tone forcing me to obey. He moved from his spot in the doorway, and I watched in disbelief as he began to pick up the swabs one by one. He placed into the container before looking back up at me. "How are you feeling?" I grew annoyed at his unusual kindness.

"What? Feel guilty for shooting me? I don't need your kindness," I spat. His eyes grew hard.

"Need I remind you, sweetheart, that you wouldn't still be alive if it weren't for my kindness," he hissed.

"You're a gang leader. You shouldn't have kept me alive this long to begin with."

"Oh god forbid I actually care about you!" My eyes widened at his outburst. "The biggest rule in this industry is no connections, and breaking that rule means death, no matter who you are. I've tried so hard to just give the order, have you taken care of, but I just can't get you out of my fucking mind, and it is driving me insane. I can't, no, I won't kill you." Without thinking, I grabbed him and pulled him into my arms, ignoring his stiffened form at the sudden embrace. I felt his body relax, his head falling into the crook of my neck, and his arms wrapping around my body tightly. He pulled away, his eyes meeting mine with a fire I had never seen before. "You don't need that Park," he whispered huskily into my ear, causing shivers to shoot down my spine. He captured my lips with his in a hungry kiss, his hands roaming my body. My hands snaked into his soft hair, gently tugging at the strands. The heated kiss was brought to an abrupt end as I winced in pain at my bullet wound.

"It's ok, I'm fine. Rea-" Yoongi gently pressed his long finger to my lips, silencing my protests.

"I won't be able to hold myself back sweetheart. I don't want to put you through any more pain. Don't worry. Once you're healed, I'll put you on bedrest for another week," he smirked. I felt something hard and cold being pressed on my thigh. I looked down to see he had placed a small hand gun there. "Hang on to this real good sweetheart. Don't lose it. You'll need it." I whipped my head up in shock and fear.

"What in the world am I gonna need this for? Im the prisoner!"

"Just trust me sweetheart. Things are gonna get rough. Besides, you are most definitely not just a prisoner anymore," he smirked.