The Safe Side

CHAPTER FIVE

I sigh, bored out of my mind. I've only been here for less than a day, so of course, Jin still won't let me out of bed. I don't think I'll survive another hour, let alone a few more days. I'm not exactly sure if I'm allowed to ask for something to do either and my phone, although not confiscated, is about as dead as a doornail.

I can just imagine how that would go, asking someone for a charger for my phone.

"Yeah, could I just borrow a charger for my phone? I swear I won't call the police or anything..." Yeah, no.

If I were a kidnapper I certainly wouldn't allow it. Then again, as far as kidnappers go they seem to be oddly concerned for my wellbeing.

Even this room in which I have been imprisoned doesn't really seem like a prisoner's room at all. Far too lavish. Much more fitting for a princess or we kind of corporate heir.

All of the pink in this room kinda makes my eye twitch. Curtains, sheets, even the rugs are all this obnoxious shade of pale pink. It'd be pretty, I suppose if it weren't for the fact that it's everywhere.

All of the furniture is antique too, and the giant chandelier in the middle of the ceiling doesn't help put me at ease in the slightest. Nonetheless, I can tell just by the feeling of the sheets beneath me that they probably cost more than I'm accustomed to.

"They've gotta be silk, " I think to myself. "So soft..."

And every few hours either Jimin or Jin comes in to check on me. It's the same thing every time, they always ask me if I'm comfortable or if there is anything I need. It's a bit eerie.

Maybe Jin was really telling the truth.

"We're a family, " he'd said.

An odd statement, especially considering that I've never met these men before in my life. I'm sure I'd know if I had family still in Korea. After all, Eomma has always been adamant that there is only the two of us left.

And although I don't believe her about not knowing who my real father is, I really don't dare push the subject. She's a scary woman sometimes, after all.

Family, huh? Just how?

"Ugh, " I groan, rubbing my eyes for the millionth time in the past hour alone.

"What's wrong?" Jin asks, suddenly entering the room with a tray laden down with food.

It smells so good...

"Wahhh! What is that? It smells so good!" I exclaim.

"Bibimbap, " he answers cheerily. "I made it myself! It was one of your favorite dishes when you were little."

I eye him cautiously, a little put off by such a statement. Jin continues to insist that we'd all known each other as kids, something that I know can't be possible. I grew up in America after all. So, how does he know that bibimbap is my favorite food?

That caution doesn't stop me from stuffing my face the moment he's set the tray down, however. Like a rabid animal, I dig in. I'd honestly forgotten just how hungry I was.

"You say that we knew each other?" I ask him, mouth full of his cooking.

I have to admit that it's probably the most delicious bibimbap I've ever had.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, geez. Hard to believe you're a Min family her with manners like that." Jin scolds me briefly. "But yes. I actually looked after you quite often. Your brother Yoongi too. But he was even more of a handful than you were. He's always been a sassy, disrespectful brat."

"Yah!" Yells Yoongi, entering the luxurious bedroom in which I've been confined rather suddenly. "Is that how you speak about your superiors when they're not around?"

Jin merely chuckles in response.

"Hyung!" Yoongi whines.

I can't help but chuckle right alongside Jin. But then, I remember what he'd said. Yoongi, my brother? Since when? I don't believe for a second that Eomma would have hidden something like that from me. A long-lost brother? It really doesn't make any sense.

"So..." I begin. "You're telling me that this guy is my brother? What? Like half-brother? See, I've never heard anything about a brother, or any family in Korea honestly. So what you're telling me sounds an awful lot like a lie."

Jin looks at me thoughtfully while Yoongi purses his lips in agitation.

"I'm hurt, " Yoongi says slowly, "that Eomma hid me from you. But it makes sense honestly."

"You were almost five when you left Korea. I'm sure that your mother just wanted to protect you." Jin states calmly. "You and Yoongi share the same father, but he's not a good man. If I had to hazard a guess I'd say that she didn't want you to know who your dad is. She succeeded in keeping you hidden for a long time. You're twenty-three now right?"

I nod my head quietly, perturbed that he would know such a thing.

"I can prove it, " Yoongi adds quietly. "When Eomma fled she left everything behind. I've got all kinds of old pictures laying around in the main house."

"Really?" I ask, sincerely curious.

If these people are telling the truth... Maybe trusting them wouldn't be too difficult.

But then again...

"And when would you be able to show me these pictures?" I question.

"I could bring them next time I visit, " Yoongi says. "I only came today to check on you because I heard you gave yourself a concussion, but I can't visit as often as I'd like. There are too many people watching me."

I grimace, creeped out by the idea. To have people watching you all the time?

"What are you? A celebrity?" I ask sarcastically.

"Not exactly, " Yoongi replies. "We are actually the children of Korea's most powerful kingpin."

"No fucking way, " I retort. "You've asked me to believe a lot, but I'm drawing the line. I won't be had. If you're going to kill me, just get it over with. Cuz if you don't all of the stress will anyways, I'd rather go out fast and easy."

"Oh, we're not going to kill you. We're protecting you, " Yoongi tells me calmly. "Because there are people out there that do want to kill you."

I sit up a little straighter. If I'm going to irritate the people that have control over whether I die now or later I might as well do it wholeheartedly.

"If that's the case then why are you keeping me prisoner?" I quip angrily.

"Who said anything about you being a prisoner?" Yoongi answers, looking to Jin with confusion on his face. "You can go wherever you want, provided you take Jimin with you."

"See, " I point out with exceptional amounts of snark. "That sounds a lot like 'prisoner' to me."