Page 14 of Perfect Martinis
Then I see a thread from a sasaeng, which is basically a stalker, who used to follow Jeong-Ki specifically.
“That motherfucker Stefan Lear got all Jeong-Ki’s money and assets and now lives nice and cushy in the Gold Coast of Chicago, in a mansion near the lake.”
Chicago? The bastard lives in my hometown? I don’t know why that bothers me, but it does. He doesn’t deserve to live in Chicago.
Hell, he doesn’t deserve to live.
My phone rings; it’s Jeong-Ki.
“I found him,” I say without greeting. “Well, almost.”
He chuckles. “I got his address, jagi. The prints on the letter came back a small-time kkangpae wannabe. It took some polite persuasion, but he gave me Lear’s address and phone number in Chicago.”
“So … road trip? Or are you going to insist on playing by the rules and being polite?”
Jeong-Ki scoffs. “Okay, I deserve that. Fuck the rules. Those went out the window when I saw you attacked. Let’s go.”
In the end, we decide to book separate flights, just since it seems like he’s having us watched.
Incheon has three flights to Chicago the next day, arriving within 5 hours of each other. I take the early one, Jeong-Ki will take the later one. Meet up at a hotel he booked under an assumed name, while we each have to waste money and book separate hotels under other names in different parts of the state.
“You have a town called Sandwich?” Jeong-Ki asks, wrinkling his nose.
“The UK has a place called Twatt. I think they win,” I quip, making him laugh. He really has the cutest laugh … if you ignore the fact he’s likely insane.
I admit, I missed Chicago. I love this place, despite feeling more at home in Seoul. When you grew up somewhere so iconic, it’s in your blood forever. Maybe, when this is all over with, I can have Jeong-Ki here for a small vacation.
The time difference is brutal, and when I get to the hotel, I fall fast asleep without even changing my clothes or showering.
An unknown amount of time later, the bed dips, waking me.
My heart hits my throat, and I forget I was waiting for someone to arrive. Hell, the sleep was so deep, I forgot I traveled at all. In my mind, there should be no one in my apartment, and I can either freeze or fight.
The old me would’ve fought, and after what just happened to me, my body wants to freeze, to let panic take over.
I can’t let it.
Rolling over, I bring my knee up, hoping to hit something, while I use the other pillow to try and smother the person, or at least startle them.
Who thinks a person will get attacked with a pillow, right?
A man coughs and curses in Korean, and that’s when I recognize his voice.
“Oh shit, Jeong-Ki!” I sit straight up, dropping the pillow, and realize I kneed him right where it hurts. “Why would you sneak up on me like that?”
“I thought it would be cute…” He coughs. “To surprise you with a kiss, like the movies.”
“This isn’t fucking Sailor Moon; I was ready to suffocate you!” I cry, but at the same time I can’t help the laugh that escapes.
“I’d rather be suffocated right now,” he admits, leaning on his back and groaning. “Is my misery really that amusing to you?”
I nod as I giggle. "Sorry, I needed this laugh before we continue," I say, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "I didn't mean to harm your future children."
"Our future children," he mutters, turning over. "I think I can breathe again without agony."
"Good," I reply, choosing to ignore his mildly possessive response a second ago. I begin to stand when a strong hand grips the back of my neck, pulling me back down to face him.
His black eyes glitter as he whispers, "You will pay for that later."
