Chapter Text
The Glock in your hand shook with your trembling nerves. You could not believe the sight that was revealed to you. You could not believe the man that was under the mask. He was aged, the bags under his eyes were profound and dark and the lines on his face were withered, yet somehow, he appeared sleek, sharp, and deadly.
He was not even your brother and yet your chest was constricting with the burden of this revelation. You had known the man since you were a teenager and had moved into the house next door to the Hwang family. You used to go to school with Jun-ho and visit his family in the evenings when you did your homework together. You also came over for special occasions at times. You had met him several times back then. He always seemed like a kind and reserved man who was dedicated to his family and later his job and wife. You had never gotten the chance to exchange many words back then, seeing that he was older and you did not share anything in common other than the care of his brother. But you always admired him for the love he showed for his family and the sacrifice he had made to save Jun-ho’s life.
Your heart ached for Jun-ho. You could not imagine the turmoil that he was in with the discovery that his beloved brother, whom you both were searching for this whole time, was the man behind these monstrous death games. The colours were certainly washed off his face. His skin and hair were damp with sweat and the only reason his hands were not shaking and his eyes were not teary was because he had more self-control than you did.
In-ho stood like a rock before you both, unphased by the fact that his young brother and his childhood friend were standing before him. Neither of them even looked at you. You were an insignificant factor in this entire interaction and you understood your place.
What hurt to see was the older brother pointing his gun at Jun-ho. You would have backed out if it weren't for that. Your heart was pounding in your ears. No words were being exchanged between the three of you either. You were going insane thinking what was going on in their minds. Was In-ho really that far gone to kill the brother he had once given his all to save?
The sea breeze hit your face like ice as you stood numb on the cliff. Your adrenaline ran high. Your stomach churned and threatened to expel its non-existent contents. You needed Jun-ho to guide your next actions.
Your eyes darted frantically between them, trying to gauge their actions, and steadying your hold on the gun. You breathed through your lips to let more air into your lungs. Your mind was a mess. You could not see a way out of this.
It seemed that In-ho would end this search on the cliff and you both would be lost.
That was what you thought until you caught Jun-ho turning from the periphery of your vision. Your eyes widened as he pointed his gun at you. Before you could act or even process what was happening, the bullet had entered your shoulder. The force of the shot sent you reeling backwards, making you fall on your butt on the forest floor.
The gun flew from your hand and fell at your feet. You screamed in pain and covered your bleeding wound with your palm. The brothers were exchanging words that were beyond your comprehension. Through your blurred vision, you saw In-ho marching towards you.
You tried to get up but the bullet in your shoulder sent a stabbing pain through your bones and muscles with each movement. You did not know what to think and what to do. Jun-ho had completely blindsided you with his betrayal. Suddenly you found yourself all alone to fend for yourself in this strange island and there was no hope in sight.
In-ho charged at you with his gun. You opened your mouth to negotiate with him but the words came out as choked gurgles. You put your hand up in defence, to tell him to stop. He showed no sign of mercy as he came to stand next to your head.
You writhed and squirmed in a pathetic attempt to move away from him while he watched you amused. Jun-ho had not moved from where he stood. You could not count on his help anymore anyway. You only hated that you would not get the answers that you needed before dying.
In-ho crouched down to get a closer look at you. He grabbed you by the jaw and forced you to look up at his gun. You stared helplessly at the dark tunnel of death, your mind too numb to process anything. And then he pulled back the gun and smacked it hard against your head.
The last thing you registered was the blunt pain in your skull and the sharp sting in your muscles before everything went black.
***
The dense black of nothingness began breaking with a few tiny specks of consciousness. Light entered your eyes in a haze as you fluttered your lids open. The air seemed to come to you through a sieve, letting only a few molecules of oxygen enter your lungs no matter how hard you breathed. The dryness in your throat had you coughing out loud.
Your muscles refused to take your command to move. It took a great effort to even move your face as if it was weighed down by rocks. Your body might as well have been submerged in water. To someone observing you from outside, you would appear as a person drowning and flailing your limbs around to come to the surface for air.
Your world had slowed down. Every second had turned into a minute. The reservoir of energy vested in your body was repleted with each attempt to move your limbs.
The pale wall right in front of you was the first thing you saw and registered concretely. The faint sunlight spilling through the clerestory windows above it gave you a hint of the time of the day.
You did not recognise this place. The sinking pit of anxiety in your chest spread throughout your whole body. The insight to fight or flight kicked in. You jerked yourself forward only to be blinded by pain and blocked by restraint. Blunt throbbing pain erupted from your shoulder and reached every muscle it could find. It almost matched the feverish pace of your heartbeat.
You winced through your teeth and pinched your eyes shut at the searing pain. Your other hand attempted to shoot up and soothe your shoulder, only to find itself caught in a metal clasp. You forced your eyes open to see your wrist cuffed to the wooden headboard of the bed you were lying in.
“What the fuck?” you exclaimed, jingling and pulling your hand in a desperate attempt to free it.
A loud wooden clang came from your left, followed by a set of footsteps. A man called your name. You recognised his voice - Jun-ho.
You snapped your head towards him in alarm. The sight of his once familiar face brought back memories of terrible pain and betrayal. You kicked your feet and pushed yourself up to sit on the bed despite the pain in your shoulder and showed him your palms before he could come any closer.
“Stop! Don't come close to me!” you shouted at him in your feeble voice.
“It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you,” he told you, holding his hands up to show you that he meant no threat.
You panted with your back against the wall, glaring at him and the menacing shadow of the man behind him. In-ho, who was supposedly involved in the horrible games, stood by the door frame and observed you in silence. His presence was enough for you to realise that Jun-ho could not be trusted.
“You already have,” you grunted through gritted teeth.
Jun-ho clicked his teeth and shook his head.
“I had no choice.”
“You had all the choice, Jun-ho. But I guess you're in on it as well. Why drag me into this? What is your sick plan?”
“There's no plan. I didn't know anything – look I know this is all very confusing, but I need you to understand me. I need you to understand that he is my brother.”
“Your brother is a monster!”
In-ho's eyes flickered at your remark. You could tell that he was hiding a smirk behind his smug face. He decided to walk away instead, leaving you to talk to Jun-ho in privacy.
“He had his reasons…he has had a tough life. You have known him as well, you know how much he cares,” Jun-ho justified.
“For you maybe but not for others clearly,” you retorted.
Jun-ho sighed and put his hands on his hips.
“I understand what you're feeling right now. But neither I nor my brother will harm you. Okay?”
“So why am I here? Why am I fucking handcuffed to a bed?” you demanded.
“That is for your safety,” he said.
You scoffed. “Sure, and what the bullet you put on my shoulder? Was that for my safety too –”
You paused when you looked at your shoulder to find it bandaged and dressed. There was no sleeve on your arm. The jacket and shirt you had been wearing on the island were gone. Instead, you were sitting in a grey tank top which came from God knows where and was put on you by God knows who. You pursed your lips and squeezed your legs together at the thought of either or both undressing you while unconscious. There was a time when you would not have been as uncomfortable around Jun-ho. You both were cops and ran the risk of getting wounded or getting stuck in situations that called for proximity. More than that, you had been friends since you were teens. But now you knew, he was not the person you thought he was.
“A doctor did that,” Jun-ho said to dissuade any doubts of yours.
You cleared your throat and looked away from him, not wanting him to see the anxiety and shame in your eyes.
“How long will you keep me here?” you asked.
“As long as we need to…to be sure,” he said.
“Of what?”
Jun-ho gave you a knowing look and shrugged his shoulders without answering. You knew what he meant. You could not be released because you were not on their side and they could not risk you ratting them out.
“And you need to heal,” he added.
You chuckled at his excuse. There was no way you were going to believe that either of them cared if you healed and survived. You were sure that his brother would rather see you perish and die with his secret. For what reason Jun-ho wanted to keep you alive was unknown. If it was not for the friendship and the bond that you shared, you had little faith in it after the events on the island.
“I'm sorry, I really am,” Jun-ho said.
His tone sounded sincere. It reminded you of hearing his worried and concerned voice whenever he thought that you were in trouble or if you were sick or if he had done something to upset you. Jun-ho had been a good friend through the years. You had seen him grow into a good man as well…one who was headstrong, determined and never shied from his responsibilities. He had wanted to be as dedicated a police officer as his brother once was. You wondered where it went wrong for both of them.
“Here,” Jun-ho pushed a glass of water in front of your face.
You had not realised when he had poured it out. You were too lost in your thoughts to see the bottle of water kept on the bedside table. Your lips parted in invitation of the hydration that they desperately sought for their chapped skin. The metal of the cuffs clinked as you tried to move your uninjured hand.
“Oh, sorry. I will open it,” he said.
He placed the glass on the bedside table and fetched a key out of the pocket of his jeans. He leaned over your body and reached the cuffs locked to the headboard. You backed off against the wall to get as far away from him as you could. The fabric of his jacket brushed against your face and the proximity allowed you to hear his heartbeat and the light breaths that he took. You sucked in your breath and bit your lip, waiting for him to move away as fast as he could.
Your face was burning hot by the time he unhooked the cuffs and gave you your free space back. You did not know why your body was reacting this way. You had shared close moments with him plenty of times before. Neither of you spared any chance to hug the other person. You were even used to feeding each other with your chopsticks. You had never felt awkward then, but then again, you had never perceived him as a threat either before.
Jun-ho tore you out of your thoughts by putting the glass in front of your face again. A part of you wanted to refuse the drink and make this a case of defiance, but your throat was begging for relief. You put your fingers around the base of the glass. Jun-ho held it till he could trust you with the weight of the glass and then let go. He went to sit by the foot of the bed as you drank the water.
You emptied the glass in hurried gulps as each swallow soothed every parched spot in your mouth and throat. You realised that it was not even known to you how long you had been here. It could easily be a day or two since you were unconscious and if they were willing to go far enough then they'd have even kept you drugged. Though there was no incentive to do so, you could not help but think the worst.
“I will have to leave now, hyung will take care of you while I'm gone,” he said as soon as you lowered the glass from your lips.
The thought of being alone with that man had alarms blaring in your mind. You could still feel the burn of his hit on your head. There were many things he was capable of that you could not feel yet. And though once you had looked up to him as the kind, humble and patient older brother of Jun-ho's, now you only saw him as the devil.
“He will not do anything. I promise,” he said, reading the worry in your face with ease.
He was your friend after all. There was little that you could hide from him.
“I will come back in a few days…when I'm able to,” he added.
His statement sent a flurry of new questions and doubts racing in your mind. You had no clue where you were, in what part of South Korea you were in and how far away you were from home or the island. You had no idea where Jun-ho was going, but assuming that he was going back to his usual self, what was he going to tell others about you?
“What are you going to tell the others about me?” you asked with urgency if only to get him to set you free in panic.
“I will take care of it. Don't worry.”
“You will tell others that I'm dead or missing or something right,” your heart sank as you said the words.
Jun-ho and you had not gone on record with your investigation. No one had kept track of you when you had decided to follow the cars taking the players onto the island. You had blindly followed his search as well, without thinking that he could be a part of what was going on. How could you have ever guessed that his brother was the menace behind it all?
Now your family and friends would talk to him daily and be convinced by him that you were lost, without knowing that he and his brother were the reason for your disappearance. That was unfair.
“I should never have trusted you,” you said in a choked whisper.
Jun-ho uttered your name and placed his hand on your foot. You quickly recoiled from his touch. You wanted none of it on your body. You wanted nothing to do with him.
“Just go away. I don't care,” you snarled at him in anger.
He pressed his lips together and swallowed the knot in his throat, taken aback by your outburst. He pulled his hand back on his lap and stared at the floor, sighing with defeat.
“Whatever you need, tell my brother. He will get it for you or I will,” he said.
You turned your face to the side, refusing to look at him as he got up. To your dismay, he came to stand beside you. The hair on the back of your neck stood at the feeling of his heat up close again.
“I have to put this back,” he said, jangling the cuffs in front of your face.
“Really?” you groaned.
“Yes…it's just for a few days. Until he starts trusting you.”
You stared at him wide-eyed, startled by the reason he gave you for your cuffs. He seemed to have lost all sense of reason and rationality in favour of the judgement of his brother who you sure would be a nationally wanted criminal if he was exposed to the world.
“Till your murderous brother starts trusting me –”
Jun-ho slapped his hand on your lips. The bangs on his head hung around his furrowed brows as he glared at you.
“Mind your words,” he warned.
The rage in his voice vibrated through his hand and shook you to your core. Your breath was stuck in your throat. Your heart was pounding as you looked into his dark eyes. Jun-ho had never laid a violent hand on you, nor had he looked at you this way. This was the madman who was hiding under the disguise of your friend, the one who was ready to do anything for his brother, no matter what happened to you.
Your voice fizzled in your throat as fear and the need to preserve yourself took over. This was not the time to provoke him more.
Jun-ho pulled his hand away once he saw the fire die in your eyes. You turned your head to the left and let him chain you to the bed. You started at the reddening bandage on your shoulder, seething in silence at your situation until he left your space.
He refused to match your gaze when he was done. He fiddled with the key and tapped his foot on the floor while waiting to find the right words to say to you.
“I will give this to him. Just call him when you want to get up or need something,” he said.
You noted his information but did not react. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Surely, he could see how deranged this all was. Only he could not help himself.
“I will be back soon,” he promised.
And then he walked out of the room. The nerves around your nose began burning as soon as he left. Tears swelled up in your eyes. You were caught in such a big mess that you could not even begin to unravel it.
The thought of being alone in this house, which was located God knows where, with In-ho was driving you insane. There was nothing stopping him from killing you behind his brother's back. Seeing how blind Jun-ho was for In-ho, he probably would eat up any lie told to him. Even if In-ho did not lie about his reason for murdering you, Jun-ho had already proven that he was willing to let his crimes slide to protect him from the law. You were not safe here and you would have to find a way to run soon.
***
The fatigue and lack of energy in your body had drifted into another fit of slumber that was only broken by the sound of footsteps coming into the room. Your eyes shot open and found a darkness around them that was dulled by the pale rays of moonlight. You jolted up and pushed yourself to sit upright.
You turned your head to the left and found a tall shadow blocking the doorway. You gasped at the eerie sight. Then the shadow turned on a switch next to it and revealed itself to be none other than the man who was the cause of your torment. In-ho’s cold and sharp face did not look any less unsettling under the yellow ceiling light.
He looked at you with an unreadable expression as he moved towards you. He held a small wooden bed table in his hands which had a bowl of food on top of it. You watched him in silent horror as he approached the bed. His very presence and stare scathed your skin like invisible knives. You tried to contain your expressions but you could not keep your chest from heaving with the tensed heavy breaths that you were taking.
The way he observed you did not help at all. His eyes dropped to your chest and took a shameless note of your signs of anxiety. Being in the type of work that he was, he was probably well acquainted with fear and even revelled in it.
You noticed just how much larger he was compared to Jun-ho when stopped near the edge of the bed. He loomed over you and blocked the light out of your face with his height and broad shoulders. The loose beige button-up shirt that he was wearing did little to hide his toned physique from you. He had maintained the police officer’s built even after years. As a police officer yourself, you paid attention to your body and its strength as well, but you could tell that overpowering In-ho would be far from a cakewalk, especially in your state of injury.
You kept your eyes pinned on him to make sure he did not pull something that you could not see coming. He examined the bed to find a place to keep the table and somehow ended up deciding to place it on the end of it. Your minute reaction of puzzlement was resolved when he pulled out the key of the cuffs from his khaki pants.
You sucked in your lips realising what was going to follow. Unlike Jun-ho, In-ho did not find it necessary to announce himself before he bent over your body and began unlocking the cuffs. You held your breath yet again. The cotton of his shirt was caressing your face and the scent of detergent was filling your nostrils. You did not recall ever being so close to him when you were younger. He used to maintain a respectful distance from you and you were glad for it.
The new In-ho could happily smack you in the face and not even blink once. You could never have guessed that such a cold sadistic man was hidden underneath the warm charming layers of the old brother-like police officer you once knew and admired.
You let out your breath once he moved away. He pocketed the cuffs, picked up the food table and placed it over your lap.
“Eat,” he ordered.
It was all he said before leaving you to yourself. He did not even close the door behind himself. He simply did not find you capable enough to make a run for it. You were willing to wager a guess that you were not in an area where running off would be of much use given how eerily quiet it was outside.
The meaty aroma of the soup infiltrated your nostrils yet failed to stoke your appetite. You looked down at the steaming clear broth and spotted pieces of chicken, sprouts, herbs, and other greens in it. On any other day, you would have loved to devour such a meal after going on the empty stomach that you had in the past few days. But your heart won’t let you accept this meal coming from your captor.
You looked at the steel spoon and chopsticks that he had placed beside the blue bowl and wondered if you could hide them effectively enough to use them as weapons when In-ho came to cuff you again. The chance to fight seemed too close, but you knew that it wouldn’t be so obvious. In-ho was a clever man as a cop and he was even more cunning as a criminal given how he had managed to keep the games under wraps. He probably would twist your neck before you would even get the chance to pull something on him.
With a heavy heart full of defeat, you decided to sit idle till he came back to remove the soup bowl from your lap.
The soup had gone cold by the time he returned. Your stomach had even gurgled and begged you to eat some of it and replenish your strength during the wait. You had debated with yourself for too long and remained indecisive until the end. You wanted to do something to prove to them that you would not be a compliant prisoner.
You kept your eyes low as In-ho came to stand beside the bed again. He let out an audible sigh of disapproval at the sight of the full soup bowl.
“What is this?” he asked.
You bit your cheek and averted his question like an aloof child in a classroom avoiding her teacher. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when his body lowered on the bed. You braced yourself for an attack but were relieved when you saw that he was only sitting on the edge of the bed, albeit a little too close for your comfort.
He looked right at your face with disdain and judgement that had you scampering for a space to fixate your eyes on. His large body took up much of the area in your vision.
“Why have you not eaten?” he asked, his tone almost parental.
“I was not hungry,” you answered.
In-ho took your name in warning. You were surprised that he even remembered it. You could not recall when was the last time he had called you by your name, but whenever he did, he always added the suffix that assured you that he saw you as a close friend of the family. He had taken your name in a similar manner, only his tone was nowhere near as warm.
“I’ve known you since you were a girl,” he said.
Your eyes flickered up to his face, just to check if he could see how strange his words sounded. Him trying to remind you of your familiarity with him when he had acted like a foreign ruthless brute was astounding, to say the least.
“I know you’ve not been taught to waste food.”
His statement sent a particularly strong jolt in your heart. This man also knew your parents. He had once talked so politely to them and invited them into his house as well. You pitied the thought of them ever finding out that you were being held captive by the neighbourhood brothers they had grown to trust their daughter with.
In-ho let out an exasperated sigh and picked up the spoon from the table. He dipped it in the bowl and scooped out a piece of meat along with some of the cold broth. You froze in your place as you saw him bring the spoon up to your face. He even held a hand under the spoon to catch any spill.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
Your muscles stiffened with tension and something in your mind told you that this was not an order to defy. The spoon could be in your throat next. You reluctantly parted your lips and slouched forward a little to close the distance between you and the spoon.
He was gentler than your expectation when he put the spoon over your bottom lip. He tilted the handle up to help you slurp up the contents. Your cheeks burned as you sensed his fingers grazing your chin and collecting the dribbles of soup that had slipped out of your mouth. You were not a clumsy eater; you were only caught off guard by your circumstances. At this moment, you had to take note that In-ho was more than comfortable with proximity and physical touch, more than he should have been given the nature of your relationship before and the age gap between you two.
You had not even finished chewing the meat and bits of sprouts in your mouth when he began scooping up another spoonful of soup. The clean, hearty taste of it failed to soothe your mind as the tension of being force-fed by In-ho set your brain on fire. He was not being rough with anything though. He waited patiently for you to chew and gulp down the food in your mouth before giving you another dose of the soup. But you could sense his underlying need to impose himself on you through this act. This was a play of power and a way to show who was in charge and you would be a fool not to see it.
After the second round, he put the spoon back on the table and looked at you in question.
“So, you want to be fed all of it? Or will you eat the rest by yourself,” he asked.
“I will eat it myself,” you answered in a low and embarrassed voice.
A slight smirk pulled at the edge of his lips. It was evident that he was satisfied by his small victory.
“Good. I will come back after 15 minutes,” he said.
You let out a large exhale once you found yourself alone. Your eyes prickled with tears as a gnawing sense of fear grappled your body. This was only a show of what In-ho could do and it wasn’t even that bad, yet you found yourself shivering at the thought of what worse he was capable of. He seemed to have all the memories of the little girl you once were, with whom he used to interact like an older brother years ago, but he had no regard for honouring that relationship.
He had changed so much that it horrified you. There was no way you could count on the soft and warm gentleman that he once was which Jun-ho was bent on pinning his hopes on. This was a new manipulative man who had to be dealt with delicately.
Any appetite that had stirred up in our stomach before In-ho showed up had died down by his subtle forceful actions. You stared down at the soup with disgust. It suddenly seemed like too much and you saw it as something made by In-ho. Yet you forced yourself to gobble it down before In-ho came to assert himself in worse ways.
You finished only a few seconds before he returned to the room. He had a few small bottles in his hands when he entered. He neared the bed and gave you a brief smile when he saw the bowl empty.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked.
You refused to dignify his patronizing question with a response. He scooped out a white handkerchief from his pants pocket and handed it to you, seeing your lips glistening with the fat film of the soup.
“Here,” he said, waving the cloth in front of your face.
You took it without protest and wiped your lips and chin with it. The bottles rattled, signifying that they had pills - medication, in them as he placed them on the side table. He then picked up the table from your lap, put it on the floor and sat down on the newly created space for himself. You straightened your back and stuck as much as you could to the pillows and the headboard to be as far away from him as you could.
He did not care for your visible signs of discomfort. He simply took the handkerchief back from you and put it back in his pocket. Then he reached for you with his hand. You flinched back, your heart jolted, and your mind reached the worst conclusion it could. For some reason, against all your training, your free hand chose to stay frozen instead of showing any will to fight him off. You had never been so intimidated by a person before.
Your breath fluttered as In-ho pressed his knuckles on your cheek. He shifted his hand to your forehead and touched it. The skin under his fingers burned making you hiss. He retrieved his hand and put it on his lap.
“Sorry for that,” he said, commenting on the bruise that he had left on your forehead in the most unapologetic tone.
“But you have no fever. Good,” he remarked.
It struck you a little too late that he was checking your temperature. You refused to accept that there was no nonphysical option for doing this. He ought to have a thermometer in this house.
You stared at him cautiously as he reached for the three bottles on the table. He popped a pill out of each bottle in his large palm and held it out for you to take.
“What are they?” you asked, staring at his hand with distrust.
“You got shot, young lady. These are your medicines. They are important. They will help you heal and will help you with the pain. You must take it,” he insisted.
The stress of being in your circumstance had almost pushed the pain in your shoulder to the background. You were much more concerned at the thought of him shoving the pills down your throat than you were about your shoulder not healing.
You bit your lip and held out your smaller palm for him to drop the pills in it. He reached for the bottle of water and glass placed on the bedside table next and poured half a glass out for you.
You took the glass from his hand, popping the pills in your mouth one by one and washed them down your throat with two gulps of water. Then you handed it back for him to keep it on the table again.
He placed his hands on his knees, positioning himself to get up from the bed, but was staring at your shoulder instead.
“I will change the dressing in the morning,” he said.
Your body became hot with unease at the thought of him dressing up your wound. Jun-ho might have been the cause of the wound in the first place, but you would still much rather have him do something so delicate and oddly intimate to you.
“When does Jun-ho come back? Can’t he, do it?” you asked.
“If you would rather get infected waiting for him then sure,” he retorted.
You pursed your lips. You certainly did not desire to take any more pain than was needed.
“Well, good night. The pills will help you sleep,” he said, pushing himself off the bed and gathering the medication from the table, “I will see you in the morning.”
You raised your brows at him as you realised that he was forgetting something. You hid your right hand under the pink blanket draped over your body.
In-ho smirked as he caught onto your thoughts.
“Don’t worry. I’m not forgetting anything,” he said.
“Please, I don’t want to be cuffed,” you pleaded.
“Oh no, sweetheart. I'm not going to do that,” he said, smiling to himself at some thought you could not decode.
The muscles in your face twitched at the use of the pet’s name. Never had he, even when things were good, ever called you anything apart from your name. It was no less confusing to hear that he did not have any wish to cuff you when Jun-ho had insisted that it was a measure put in place by In-ho himself.
“Wait, I thought you wanted to cuff me,” you said.
“Ah, I don't know what my little brother told you. But this,” he pulled out the cuffs from his pocket and dangled them on one finger, “was for him, not me.”
You frowned at him and his version of the explanation behind the cuffs. You were not sure if he was trying to trick and manipulate you into thinking that his brother was at fault and not him. Doing so would serve him no purpose as he had nothing to gain from earning your favour or trust. On the other hand, the possibility of Jun-ho having put the blame on his brother who you already did not like did not seem that far-fetched. It was a neat way to not make you more upset than you already were with him.
“But don't blame him. Don't be hard on him…he's only a man who wants to make an impression in front of a pretty young lady,” In-ho said, a teasing expression breaking from under his cold mask.
His words caught you by surprise. You had not expected him to make such a joke and hint at Jun-ho's feelings towards you like this. The bond between you both had been close, but there was no way In-ho could know the depth of it. Perhaps in another circumstance, you might have enjoyed learning that Jun-ho sees you as a little more than a friend. Your own feelings for him were a little complicated. But in your present situation, you only wished that he would let you go. In-ho's implication held little value.
“Nevertheless, I'd suggest you don't try anything funny,” he warned you from the doorway.
He had one hand on the light switch and another on the door handle, ready to close it and lock you inside the small room.
“I don't want to have to break anything else in your little body,” he said.
You could practically hear the joy he felt while delivering this threat to you right before going to sleep. He observed your expression for a few seconds and then switched off the light.
The room went dark. The hallway light glowed around him as he stood menacingly at the doorway.
“Good night,” he said before pulling the door.
The sliver of light pouring in through the door vanished once he closed the door. It was clear that you had been locked in.
The night only strengthened the potency of his threat and intensified the shock that you were feeling. You had not even dealt with the events of the island yet and In-ho was already standing on your neck, reminding you the worst of your nightmare had not yet happened and it was better to not provoke him into making it happen.
Planning escape from the grasp of such a devilish mastermind would be a task and you had studied enough kidnapping cases to know that such things did not happen in a matter of days. It took weeks to earn the trust of one’s captors and find a space of weakness to take your shot. You had more calculations to do given that your captors were so familiar.