Château de Versailles (2/?)
Title: Château de Versailles (2/?)
Pairing(s): DooWoon, JunSeob (Brief)
Rating: PG-13+
Word Count: 7,075
Summary: Yoon Doojoon is a decorated police officer of New York City. Away from work, he is also the spouse of a sweetheart and a doting father of their triplets. He has brought countless criminals to justice, but one will bring him to his knees.
A/N: A look into JunSeob’s relationship, and news on distressed Woon and Yoon babies.
Previous: Château de Versailles (1/?)
(Yoon Apartment, 12:25 A.M…. Doojoon’s POV)
“9-1-1 operator. What’s your emergency?”
“Hello, this is Officer Doojoon Yoon of New York City’s Police Department. I’ve called to file four reports of kidnapping.”
“Who are the subjects?”
“My husband, Dongwoon Yoon, and our three children, Jungsu, Jungwha, and Junghee Yoon. They’re triplets.”
She pauses, writing their names down, I assume. I hope.
“Alright, sir. Could you give me some basic information, such as birthdays, hair and eye color, height, weight, et cetera? It will be of use to the public.”
“Sure. For Dongwoon, June 6, 1991. For the triplets, September 22, 2012…” I spend nearly three whole minutes giving her all the personal information I can relay.
“Can you pinpoint the time of their kidnapping?” she asks as soon as I finish.
“I was on duty when they were taken, so I can’t really ‘pinpoint’ it.”
“When did you discover they were missing?”
“Less than ten minutes ago. I came home, and they weren’t there. They’re always home when I get in. And as soon as I realized that they’d been taken, I received a call from an unlisted number. It was my husband, and he was hysterical. I talked to him for a few minutes, and then I was on the line with the kidnapper.”
“So you know of their kidnapper?”
“Yes. I believe him to be the spouse of a criminal I executed months before. The criminal’s name was Junhyung Yong from Brooklyn. I am not sure of the name of his husband.”
“Do you believe your family to be in immediate danger?”
“Welllllll, considering they’ve been taken by a drug dealer’s partner to an undisclosed location, then yes, I would say so.” That was the most rhetorical question I have ever been asked.
“When was the last time you’ve physically seen your husband and children?”
“Yesterday morning before I left for work, circa 6 A.M. That was the very last time. I called Dongwoon later on in the day-around afternoon-and he was on his way to a pharmacy in Jersey with the children.”
A pause.
“He’s pregnant, ma’am,” I press, “A month pregnant.”
“Understood. We’re going to do all that we can to help you, alright? Now what city in Jersey did your husband venture to?”
“Newark. East Newark.”
“So the kidnapping took place in New Jersey?”
“I suppose it did. That’s the last known place that I’m aware they’ve been to.”
There is another prolonged pause from the other line.
“………Alright, Mr. Yoon. Your reports and information has been added to the database. We will be working closely and promptly with law enforcement in Newark as well as New York City to recover your family. As for your children, we can only issue an AMBER Alert if there is a record of the kidnapper’s vehicle, and more information of their captor. The acquirement of a vehicle and more information are the only criteria needed to put your children in the AMBER system, and as we work on your case, that is highly possible. We will alert you whenever we hear of anything valuable to your case. Also, let us know if you yourself know or have found anything relative to the case.”
“Oh… okay. I will. Thank you for your time, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good night-or morning, rather.”
“You, too.”
I hang up.
…That’s it? That’s the end of it? A ten-minute conversation with an anonymous operator, and I am supposed-or expected-to sit around, kick back, and wait until I hear information about my family? I know how busy the NYPD can get on a daily basis. If I want some results, I’m going to have to be proactive. I can’t sit around and wait to hear anything or hear from anyone. Something tells me that I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands if I ever want to get anywhere.
I debate going to the pharmacy, but at this hour, Runa’s probably shut the place down. I want to speak with all those that come in contact with the four of them prior to the abduction. Easier said than done, maybe…
…I didn’t get the opportunity to say ‘I love you’ to Woon over the phone as he was in captivity. I realize that now. Just now. The last time I told him that I loved him was yesterday while he was on his way to the store. That was also the last time I spoke to the babies. I then think about the last time I touched them. When I’m called in early, I say my goodbyes to Dongwoon first, and then I trek to the boys’ room. That morning, I pet their heads, I kissed their faces, I stroked their backs. Jungwha even saw me enter the room. I had to pick him up and lull him back to sleep before he could alarm his brothers of my leaving. I actually got to hold him in my arms. That was the last time I got to touch any of them.
There have been many, many days where I have left my family early, without a proper, ritualistic “good bye.” It is just this day when I said my goodbyes to Dongwoon and my babies more than twenty-four hours ago, they were indefinite goodbyes.
I’m sick. It feels like I’ve just swallowed several billiard balls one after the other, and my body will not let me regurgitate. This is difficult for me to register. This is real. This is… this is unimaginable. Someone has my boys, my husband, against their own wills. I can’t ensure their safety, I can’t protect them. I can’t even tell them that everything will be alright. How and why am I even a policeman if I was unable to do those simple things?
I do not know how long Yong’s partner plans on keeping my family hostage and making them his personal playthings, but I will not stand for having this drag out for days or weeks or months. I will not let it go that far. I am going to exhaust all of my resources. I am going to do any- and everything within me to recover each and every one. They depend on me. I cannot let them down.
I dial up Guk’s cell. I know he’ll answer. We’re authorized to answer our cellphones even off duty. I hear a “click,” signaling his open line.
“Mmn.”
“Guk.”
“Yeah, Joon. I’m here. ‘Sup? Everything okay?”
“Sorry to wake you up, man, but something’s happened.”
“Obviously it’s something serious, otherwise you wouldn’t’ve called. What?”
I exhale, “Dongwoon’s missing. And so are the kids.”
“……Shit-for real? All of them?”
“Yeah, and I think I know who’s responsible. You remember that Junhyung guy a few months back?”
“Yeah, ‘course.”
“He was married. Junhyung was his husband. The spouse is most likely the one that’s orchestrated all of this. He told me over the phone that he wants to get back at me, and apparently he’s using my family to do it.”
“So you’ve talked to him?”
“Him and Dongwoon. Woon’s been separated from the boys, and he doesn’t know where he is and where they are. I don’t know where they are.”
“Do you have any leads on where they might be?”
“Remember when I called to check in with Woon during patrol? He and the babies were on their way to the store. So I had no worries, but the next thing I knew when I came home, he nor the kids could be found. Then he calls me from an unknown number in complete hysterics, scaring the shit out of me. The last known place he was at was the pharmacy…”
I hear Guk release a heavy sigh, “Damn, Joon. I… I don’t know what I’d do. How’re you holding up?”
I take a seat on the couch, my first time sitting down after half an hour of being at home. I’m very tense.
“It’s like it’s not registering in my head that my babies are gone. It’s like I’m expecting Dongwoon to call me to bed, or one of the boys to cry out for either one of us. It hasn’t hit me yet, but I’m not gonna wait around and let it. I know Woon’s doing all that he can to keep himself together. He’s expecting, and naturally, I’m highly worried for him and our child. I want him safe… Nothing was said about the boys and their possible whereabouts between Woon or Junhyung’s husband. But I’ve got some tough boys. They’ve survived days from being in the hospital, and I’ve seen ‘em hit their heads while playing and walk away, unfazed and laughing. They’ll be okay. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt those babies. Anyone. I alerted the department and gave them all of info I could, but you know how busy we get. How’re they gonna carve out the special time to find four people with so much already on their minds?”
“I agree with you. The interests of the department are all scattered and stretched. We’ve got missing persons reports open from years ago, since 9/11. But you’re not alone, Joon. You’ve got me. I’m here for you. Now I know this’ll be hard for you to do-and please don’t get mad at me for saying this to you-but you need to rest. You’ve been up since six, and you’re gonna need your rest if we’re gonna extensively search for Woon and the kids tomorrow. Try and get some sleep, even if it’s just for a couple hours, you hear me?”
“Yeah. I got cha, but it’s gonna be hard. Thanks for hearing me out this late.”
“Anytime, Doojoon. Call me as soon as you hear anything else during the night. I’ll be right here.”
“Thanks, Guk… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya. G’night.”
We disconnect, Guk returning to his sheets, and I, to thoughts. I curl up on the couch, still dressed in my uniform. My shoes are still on my feet. I press the home phone and my cell to my chest. My brain fights the aches of my body coaxing it to succumb to slumber. My orbs wander tirelessly, absently across the plane of my ceiling. A heaviness sets on my head, chest and stomach.
I think this is what it feels like to be scared.
(Yong Yoseob POV, Two Months Ago…)
Anything Yong Marilyn wants, Yong Marilyn gets.
She owns an immeasurable amount of dresses. She has more pairs of shoes than any other upper-class toddler. Her room is modeled exclusively after French Rococo style; it is fit for a princess.
She is my princess.
Junhyung has showered me with gift after gift after gift over the years that we have known one another, but this dear baby is the greatest gift he has ever given me and could ever give me. He did not want to have a child, even after several years of being together. But it happened. I remember him being scared stiff when I told him I was pregnant. And I was sort of afraid to, knowing that… But as she grew inside of me-and as Junhyung witnessed that-he grew. Jun transitioned into this beautiful, loving, fierce father. When I was put on strict bed rest, Marilyn-who was fairly hefty; she took a toll on me- was exclusively in the care of her father. He didn’t want to hire a nanny, or a sitter. He put one of his trusted tops in charge of his business for an entire month while he nurtured her, monitored her, played with her… Their bond was established straightaway. Her infant laughter from the nursery bounced off the walls and entered my domain.
A man, one who put his business before everything, even me a couple of times, began to realize what was more important to him, and what mattered the most in the world.
Marilyn is three now. Visually, she is the perfect mix of Jun and I. Her attitude? All Junhyung: Headstrong, determined, feisty, yet sweet when she wants to be. She’s a doll. I enjoy every minute I spend with her. She adores what little time she spends with Jun, greatly.
But as of late, Jun’s been staying in Brooklyn for evenings at a time. He would leave at night and return home in the morning, get some breakfast, play with Marilyn for a few moments, kiss her, kiss me, then head back to Brooklyn or wherever business takes him.
I’m not stupid. I am perfectly conscious of what my husband does. He deals in illegal substances, and once, he did so directly. Now he’s gotten so far up in the ranks that he has throngs of people to do that for him. That quells my worries somewhat, but I retain that eating, ever-present fear that at any moment I could permanently lose one of the greatest loves of my life… I knew what he was when we first met; He told me straight up. And I didn’t care. He was charming, lovable, and very frontal. That’s what I liked. I liked it so much, I decided to marry him, and stay married to him for ten years. He doesn’t have the safest job; that’s the understatement of the year.
To keep Marilyn and I safe, he purchased a grand house-initially for me, but now for our family-on one of the many coasts of Long Island. It’s where I spend most of my days. He rarely lets me into the city. When I must, however, Junhyung authorizes me to always have something covering my eyes, and my head if I must venture into Brooklyn, because, being in the business, Junhyung has accumulated a healthy amount of rivals that would do anything to cripple him. On one occasion, he passionately chastised me when I showed up to his quarters in Brooklyn unannounced and unprotected. He was so outraged tears streamed his steaming face as he screamed at me: “There’s only one o’ you! The fuck am I supposed to do if somethin’ happens to you!? The fuck am I supposed to tell Mari!?”
He’s beyond fearful of losing me, and I’m scared of losing him. It’s crazy, but we manage to make this love of ours work. And we are left with no other choice but to, with Marilyn in the mix.
The clock strikes nine. It’s nine in the morning. The sun’s been warming the sea water outside since six. I can smell the salt. It’s unlike me to wake up this late in the early day, but I have been emotionally exhausted, and subsequently, physically inept. Junhyung’s been staying out later, coming home later. Reports of increasing violence in Brooklyn hit my ears every day; I beg for him to be more cautious and aware… We’ve been through this for ten years, but my anxiety has increased since the birth of our baby girl. She adores her father, and I don’t want him torn away from her… and me.
I struggle out of bed. My eyes fall reflexively to my phone. Nothing from Jun. This doesn’t really bother me… or, at least, I try not to let it.
“Mama!! Mamaaa!”
Marilyn’s cooing for me. She’s always hungry around this time. I suppose I have to get breakfast going.
In slide-on slippers and Jun’s robe, I begin for Marilyn’s room. And what a room it is. On her four, bubblegum-pink walls are replicated portraits of historic, profound princesses spanning across the centuries. A crystalline, Rococo-era chandelier dangles above her white, wooden bed. Beneath it is a wiry-haired little girl with the brightest morning eyes. She is sitting in the middle of the sack, resembling a cumulus cloud in her satin evening gown.
“Ma,” Marilyn’s short grasping arms reach for me.
“Mariiiii~”
I bend over, scrape her up and into my arms, twirl, and shift back into a straight position. I start for the kitchen with her on my hip.
“Are you hungry? That’s why you woke Mama up?”
“Hungry~ I wan eat.”
“What else is new? How about a waffle for breakfast today? With some strawberries? Yeah?”
Marilyn beams at me at the mentioning of her most favorite of fruits. I walk with her into our extensive kitchen. She even has her very own tea table and set of chairs. A lamb, her treasured korilakkuma and a jumbo alpaca sit idly by in their assigned, petite tea seats. I lower Marilyn down on her two feet and she bolts for her tea table. One of many sterling tiaras lay on the tabletop. It’s actually her favorite one. She picks it up with her little fingers and digs the little combs on the sides into her curly hair. Jun got her in the habit of wearing it everywhere she went. She will tear the house up looking for this particular one, though.
“Ma where my cups?” she peeps.
I retrieve three eggs, the milk jug, and the carton of strawberries from the refrigerator, “I have to wash them, Mari. They’re dirty.”
“‘Dirty’?”
“Mmhm. Messy. You used them yesterday, baby. You’ll have them in a minute. You wanna help Ma with these strawberries first?”
“Ya.”
With a toddler’s enthusiasm, she grabs her little plastic stool from out of the corner and pushes it right in front of the center of the sink. I decide to put off preparing the waffle batter to spend a few minutes cutting and washing the strawberries with Marilyn. She boards the top of her stool, and I stand closely behind her. I put the carton of strawberries on the left of the sink, and a strainer on the left.
“Can you take the green leaves off for me?” I ask.
“’Kay.”
“And when you finish, put them in the strainer so I can wash them off.”
“I wash ’em. I do it.”
“Oh, you wanna wash them?”
“I do it,” she squeaks strongly, branching out for one of the strawberries in the carton.
I playfully back away, but I creep up behind her once again, holding her, “Alright, fine. Ma will just watch, then.”
Marilyn will not let me intervene in any way, but honestly, I like watching her work and figure things out for herself. She’s very smart. I like to think that she inherits that from me, but Jun and I often comically argue over that fact, and other traits she exhibits.
The amount of strawberries increases steadily in our little strainer. I patiently watch her, cutting the faucet on and off when needed, but in the back of my mind, thoughts of Junhyung taint this special moment. He typically trickles in circa eight, but he’s not here yet. It makes me worry; I hold Marilyn even closer. I was able to feel him whenever he came near, but ever since the birth of our daughter, I’ve not been able to sense his energy. I think Marilyn’s taken that from me. And case in point…
Marilyn abruptly stops tearing the leaves from her tenth strawberry. She blinks momentarily, and tries to turn around, but it’s kind of difficult with me gripping her so firm.
“What, sweetheart?”
“Papa!” she exclaims, squirming.
“Papa’s home?” I don’t hear any sort of engine.
Junhyung’s signature knock sounds off at the main door. My heart skips.
He crept up on me.
I assist Marilyn down her stool; she zooms into the living space, bouncing in front of the stained glass door. Jun’s familiar shadow sieves through.
“Papa, Papa~”
“Marilynnn,” I hear him chime from the other side. I open the door for him, and he enters with the morning sunlight, beaming down upon his little girl.
“Papa!!”
“Mornin’ baby girl,” he kneels before her, “C’mere.”
He needn’t say anymore. Marilyn hobbles into her father’s spread arms. Junhyung scoops her up, stands, and spins her around twice before holding her still in his arms and kissing her cheeks. Marilyn chortles in unmatched elation; the sounds tickle my heart.
“You are so pretty this morning,” he whispers. She kisses him, too, pecking his face, fixing her lopsided tiara. I close the door behind him. I retreat into the kitchen to finish the strawberries and expedite breakfast. The upset feelings that I felt from the minute I woke today return. I wish he would’ve responded to my messages at least, and not have me worry.
“And what are you up to?” I hear him ask her. He follows me into the kitchen.
“I make strawberries,” mentions Marilyn, “I make it in sink.”
“Strawberries? Yummy,” Junhyung finally places her evenly on the floor, but remains bent at an angle, “Guess what? Papa has a big surprise for you~”
“‘prise?” she repeats. I watch Junhyung reach behind him, into one of his back pockets. He makes three, pink, glittery strips of paper appear in front of her little face. She looks at them curiously, and then, she inhales loudly and grasps one of them.
“Snow White!” Marilyn hollers, “Ma! Snow White on here!”
She shows me the ticket, and indeed, amongst the other princesses is Snow White. She adores Snow White.
“Is that your ticket, Mari?” I question, and she nods happily. Junhyung must’ve gotten the tickets for the Disney on Ice princess show a month from now in NYC. She saw commercials of it weeks ago and begged for her enabling father to take her. Of course he caved.
“Papa bought you a new Snow White dress, but the mailman has to bring it here. You can wear it when we go to the princess show.”
“I see Snow White?” Marilyn asks.
Junhyung affirms to a nod, “Yep.”
That gets Marilyn going. She excitedly waddles out of the kitchen, waving her ticket around in the air and out of my sight. She shrieks like a siren. A happy siren. I imagine her to be aimlessly running in circles in the main room. Now with Marilyn out of the way, Jun takes time to tend to me. He starts with kissing along the back of my neck and into the crook. It tickles, but I do not laugh. I turn around sharply; he sweeps me right up.
“Did you get any of my calls? My texts?”
“I did,” he mumbles, avoiding my eyes.
“Then why didn’t you send anything back!? I was worried sick about you, Junhyung! I’ve been worrying about you all week! A month! The least you can do is call me back and let me know that you’re fine-!”
“-Okay, okay, shh… hush some. Mari’s not too far from here.”
I don’t realize how high a volume I’m hollering, or the hot wetness collecting in my eyes.
“You know how I feel about this… about you.”
“I’m sorry, Seob… I’m-Yoseob. Look at me.”
I look. My lips will not stop fidgeting. My jaw trembles. His palms feel cold against my cheeks.
“No. Stop… Don’t start cryin’. Please. Don’t cry. You know I can’t take that,” his thumbs efface my warm tear stains, and his lips embrace mine tenderly, “I can’t take that, Seobie. Please, baby. Don’t cry.”
“Junhy… I-I love you, Jun…” I can’t really breathe. I’m trying so hard not to cry. Again, I don’t really realize how hurt and scared I really am.
“And I love you, babe. I’m sorry… I was busy yesterday. Real busy. But I’m here now. I’m okay. I’m in one piece. Don’t get upset.”
“But I can’t help it. All I ask is that you contact me. Even if it’s just a ‘Hi,’ just talk to me, Jun. Let me know you’re alright. I mean, I’m in this house-this… bird cage-for hours on end, wondering about you consistently. I don’t like that feeling, that not-knowing feeling. I don’t like being here… I’d rather be at your side if anything were to happen.”
I feel Junhyung’s arms jerk me closer. His eyes briefly flash with black.
“Yoseob. You know damn well I’m not havin’ that. You call it a bird cage, but I keep you here to keep my birdies safe. If I know you and Mari are here and safe and alone, that brings me solace. I don’t wanna be worryin’ about you two. I love you, and I’d rather something to happen to me than something happen to you or Marilyn.”
“I’d rather nothing happen to you.”
“You know better than me that the game doesn’t promise that. I gotta do what I gotta do, baby. And you need to be here for Marilyn.”
…I sigh. I know that. Fully. My head feels swollen with pressure. I press my ear against his chest… The audible beat of my husband’s heart brings peace to mine. I grab him firmer, squeeze him closer. I close my eyes, and I listen to him inhale and exhale. Junhyung’s lips ruffle around in my hair. I don’t ever want to lose him. I don’t know anyone else. I have invested ten years of love, secrets and memories with this man. What am I to do with myself, if all of that is flushed out in one instance? My life would end. Everything would end. But I do not regret my decision. Falling in love with Junhyung was not a choice. I stood not a chance against resisting. My heart will always be with his.
“I love you, Yong Junhyung.” I kiss his left clavicle, then re-tuck my head into his chest. Jun’s lips feather about the roundness of my ear.
“I adore you,” he returns, both love and fear present in that breath.
(Next Day, 8:31 A.M., Doojoon’s POV)
Guk and I were to patrol twenty blocks from Times Square, but I told our chief of police my situation, and he granted us special permission to leave the state and head to Newark to Runa’s pharmacy. I’m parking parallel to the store now.
Runa runs outside, greeting me with happy relief, “I knew you’d come!”
“I would’ve come sooner,” I say with a slight laugh, abandoning the vehicle. She invites us inside her pharmacy. All three of us walk inside the store… I pull out a yellow inkpad from my back pocket. Guk hands me a pen. We stake ourselves by the checkout area. My eyes bounce around the saffron walls and the white, uniform aisles. I can already make out where some police work has been done.
“I see the yellow tape,” I mention.
“Yes. Police closed off the bathroom in the rear. Detectives are going to return in the afternoon to gather more evidence, if they can.”
The bathroom has relevance. I scope it out some… “Runa, if you can, just recall to us all that happened yesterday since Dongwoon’s arrival.”
“Sure sure. I-I was excited to see Woonie; the last time we saw each other was when he was pregnant. He pulled up in a cab, and walked in with the boys in the stroller. He introduced me to them, and he told me that he was expecting another baby. He said his whole purpose of coming here was to stock up on prenatal vitamins, and I showed him to the aisle they were in. And less than two minutes later, some guy in a black ski mask bursts in and shoots two shots in the ceiling of the store,” Runa points to the punctures, my eyes following the direction of her arm, “You can see them right there. He orders every to stay quiet, and then he points the gun at me and tells me to hold up my hands. He told me he’d kill me if I touched the phone… After that, more men in masks come in the store, and I see them looking around. They grabbed customers, look them over, and then headed into the rear of the store near the bathroom. I think I heard the door kicked in, and then I hear faint screams from babies. From then on, I knew they found them.”
“You couldn’t see any of the men’s faces?” Guk asks, observing the bullet holes above.
“No. They were all wearing masks. Well, all except for one.”
“Can you describe him to me?” I ready my pen again.
“Um… This guy… he was shorter than you, shorter than Woonie, too. He had blonde hair, but not blonde blonde. Golden, maybe, but it was loud. He looked young. Maybe twenty-something. He entered after the men rushed into the store. He went into the bathroom where Woonie and the babies were hiding, and then in a minute, I see men flood into the bathroom. Some come out with the babies, and they were crying all the way out of the door. I think they all left in a single car… I heard Woonie shouting for them to come back… I don’t think he could’ve reached them if he tried… Woonie followed behind them minutes later; they blindfolded him and carried him out into another car, separate from the boys. It broke my heart to watch and not do a thing about it… I’m sorry, Doojoon. I should’ve done something. I’m so sorry…! No one could call the police till long after they left!! It was too late then.”
“It’s alright, Runa,” I tell her softly, “You did all you could to protect yourself. We wouldn’t want to hear about any casualties that took place… Do you have any cameras inside the store?”
“I did. As you can see, they destroyed the ones inside before they left. The cameras outside the store and the corner of the street remain surprisingly. I called the police when I was sure they weren’t returning. Newark police came, and they requested to get the tapes. It’ll take at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours for them to process anything, but they have the footage right now. I’m sure they’ll give you copies if you request them. They also found one of the boys’ shoes… It was under one of the aisles. The men took the stroller, and I’m sure they would’ve taken the shoe had it not been hidden under one of the aisles. They described the bottom of the shoe as having initials.”
“Dongwoon initials all the boys’ clothes and shoes to keep up with them. Did they share with you any specific letters?” I squeeze the pen between my fingers.
“Yes. They were ‘J,’ ‘S,’ and ‘U.’”
“Jungsu. That was Jungsu’s shoe.” That doesn’t surprise me. Jungsu hates wearing shoes and socks. I typically find humor out of that, but presently, it does nothing but petrify me…
“……I’m sorry, Doojoon,” murmurs Runa.
I stow the pad and pen away. “It’s quite alright… Well, thank you for your time, Runa. We’re going to get in contact with Newark police department and see what we can salvage from them, but let us know if you find out anything more,” I say. She embraces both Guk and I.
“You’re welcome, Doojoon. And I sure will. I pray you find Woonie and your boys soon… Good luck.”
We depart from the store, lingering on the concrete sidewalk… My core feels as if it’s been lit ablaze. The details of this abduction are traumatic. Learning that Dongwoon is separated from our children disturbs me the greatest. I am only able to fathom what that is doing-and has done-to him.
“I’m sure Newark’s already asked around the block, but it wouldn’t hurt to give a couple interviews, too. I think we should ask some of the shop owners in the neighboring stores if they’ve seen anything,” Guk begins.
“Yeah… I’ll definitely call up there and ask for whatever information the police’s gotten from the camera’s and the public. Those tapes can definitely tell us something, though. They probably caught the cars that were used, and the golden boy involved. He’s our person of interest.”
“He’s who we want. We gotta find ‘im, Joon.”
If Junhyung’s husband is as elusive as he was, this recovery will potentially be strenuous and longwinded. But I want to know everything. I cannot rest until I know everything, and even after that, I will keep collecting information until I drop.
(Undisclosed Location, Dongwoon’s POV)
It’s been a day now, I believe. From what I learned from eavesdropping on Yong-ssi and Doojoon’s conversation, Yong-ssi is seeking revenge for the death of his partner. The kids and I are his hostages. This is a hostage situation.
Before they threw me into a car, they took my cellphone and blindfolded me. When the cloth was lifted, I was pushed into a hotel-like space and left there. That is where I am now. This apartment does not have any windows. There isn’t a phone. There is only a refrigerator-one that is empty-a closet that is also empty, a bathroom, and a small kitchen, and a twin-sized bed. It is definitely not the place that I frightfully imagined I would be thrown in to. It is more… sterile and empty. I don’t know the time of day. I don’t know if it’s day or night. I don’t know anything.
I’ve been sitting on top of my bed for… about three hours. It’s disturbingly quiet. Three little faces are stamped to the front of my conscious. My babies… I regret not doing more. They were taken because of me. There was something I could’ve done… I was inadequate as their protector.
I pray they are safe. I hope this has not terrified them, but I am sure they are shaken up to some degree. I also hope they were not split up. They’ve always been together, and to be separated from one another could prove to be psychologically disastrous for them. They are a unit; they need each other.
Doojoon is inarguably disoriented by this whole predicament. I miss him already. I know he’s looking for us. Doojoon never gives up. That serves as comfort to me, so I should not be as worried as I am. Doojoon doesn’t know how to give up. He’s passed that along to our boys.
I wish he finds them first.
BANG. BANG.
The door is bust open.
I have no time to react.
A man in relaxed garments but with the same ski mask retaining his anonymity storms in with… a tray of food. He throws it onto the petite round table in the center of my space.
“You got three minutes,” he huffs.
I look to the tray. I look at him. I crawl to the place, gazing at the simple meat-and-cheese sandwich. There is an eight ounce cup of water, too, but most of it has already been spilled due to the man’s handling of the tray. I can’t spent too much time scrutinizing. I’ve only been given three minutes to eat. I’m surprised that they are actually feeding me…
The man occupies a vacant chair and watches me scarf down bite after bite. It’s an uncomfortable atmosphere with him present. I make attempts to not have eye contact and keep my eyes glued to my sandwich. Because I’m eating and swallowing so fast, the food feels lodged in my throat and below. Drinking down the water does not alleviate this discomfort. It’s as if nothing has gone into my stomach.
The rim of the paper cup leaves my lower lip, and as soon as it does, the waiting male stands, pulling out a familiar black strip. His huge hand clasps my wrist and jerks my entire body onto his. Not this again. I tussle with him, writhing, but he stills me by buckling my body in with his idle arm.
“Be a good boy. I don’t wanna have to hurt you.”
“What are you doing…?”
“Boss wants to see you.”
He twists me around-about face-and ties the strip around my head, covering my eyes. Again, my world blackens. There’s a second strip that binds my wrist together in the back of me. I hear the door widen with creaking, and I am escorted out of the room.
“Keep walkin’ straight. Don’t stop till I tell you. You’ll be sorry if you try to escape from me.”
I obey his grating demands. Occasionally, I trip over my feet… but my balance is supported by the man behind me. It is a long walk. I hear sounds of life all around me: laughter of men, television, games, yelling… I begin to wonder where I am exactly, and that’s when I am whipped back after taking one step too many.
“Right here,” announces the male. I hear a door being opened. I’m pulled in, and shortly dropped in a chair. I am given my sight back, and the very person I see is the one known as Yong-ssi. He’s seated behind a desk. He’s smiling unusually. We are left in private.
“Hello Dongwoon. I hope you are well-rested. I like all of my guests to be comfortable. How’s Day One been for you?”
I stare emptily at him.
“Where are my babies?” I ask.
Yong-ssi’s eyes are not so warm anymore. His smirk falls.
“I asked you a question.”
I can harden my voice, too, retaliating with, “I asked you a question.”
Yong-ssi leans further back in his chair. The dark dots in the middle of his eyes stab me.
“You’re a feisty bitch. And I can admire that,” he slightly leans forward, “but you listen to me. I answer to no one, and I’m damn sure not going to start with you. Let me tell you something: Right now, you’re in my domain. I run shit day in and day out here. I am the baddest motherfucker in this bitch, and I do what the fuck I want to do. You are beneath me. Therefore, you answer to me. Now this is my last time telling you. It would be your best interest to cooperate, or things can turn real ugly for you and your babies.”
I open my throat by swallowing nervously, thinking of my boys and their safety. I just want to know that they’re alright. I’m mortified for them. I haven’t been apart from them for this long since their first month in the NICU. They were premature, being born a month early. I could not touch them or hold their little bodies. I had to observe them from outside of their incubators for days. Those feelings resurface, hitting me at all angles of my heart.
“I’ve been told from some of my boys that they’ve spotted Doojoon and his partner at the pharmacy today.”
“Doojoon.” My heart pumps faster. I am both ecstatic and fearful for him.
“Yep. Hubby’s been crawling all over the place today, and he should’ve been,” Yong-ssi steadily sits back into his chair, crossing his legs. His gaze in my direction is long and calculative. A smile creeps upon his lips.
“Aren’t you pregnant right now?”
I can feel my eyes grow two sizes. How could he have possibly known…?
“My boys have been watching and following you around for at least two weeks. How do you think they found you? I know just about everything that I need to know about you, including your little trip to the doctor. How far along are you?”
“…………About a month.”
Yong-ssi smiles my way.
“Congratulations. I bet Doojoon’s worried fucking sick about you even more. Knowing that warms my heart some… Jun and I have a daughter together: Marilyn. She’s three-years-old. That’s her right there,” says Yong-ssi, pointing to a picture on the wall of a small girl proudly showing what little teeth had sprouted. I did not realize this initially, but her pictures are actually everywhere, all around the walls. Another man is present in these pictures. I assume Yong-ssi’s husband, and her father. He appears to be truly happy to be in her presence, and she happy to be carried in his arms.
“She’s beautiful,” I comment.
“Thank you. That’s my baby girl.”
“But… how would you feel if someone suddenly ripped her away from you? You have a child; you know perfectly well what this is doing to me. Why would you do this to someone else? My boys need me, and they need their father.”
And I, in that moment, see something break behind the other’s irises. I can hear him swallowing needlessly hard. His misleadingly friendly face sinks into a straight, bold, heavy grimace. He rises out of his chair and leans forward. Our noses are a foot apart. He inhales slowly…
“Fuck. your. children. You think you-you think they have it hard? Your little imps are alive. They have their trigger-happy father. Marilyn’s father is dead. She will never, ever get to see him ever again. She loved that man as deeply as a little girl could love her father, and she still does. Every day she asks me to get him, and every day I have to explain to her why I can’t. She cries every night for him. She doesn’t understand, and that hurts her, and that hurts me, watching her go through that. I don’t give a damn what Jun did for a living. He was a father and he did not deserve to be taken away from her!!”
“Doojoon told me it was an accident-!!”
“DON’T SPOUT THAT BULLSHIT. THOSE FUCKING PIGS HAVE BEEN AFTER JUN’S HEAD FOR THE PAST SIX MONTHS. THEY WANTED HIM DEAD. I’M NOT FUCKING STUPID. IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK, BITCH? YOU THINK I’M FUCKING STUPID?” Yong-ssi-all of the blood flowing into his visage-slams his fist against the wooden top of his desk with a frightening force, “SOMEONE GET THIS WHORE OUT OF MY FUCKING SIGHT.”
The door slams open, and just as I turn my neck to see, I am yet again blinded with a strip of skin-irritating, black cloth. It’s tightly tied. My eyeballs feel like they’re going to sink into the back of my skull. My arms are yanked and twisted as if they are licorice behind my back without a care. I’m plucked out of the chair like a scorned weed and roughed around, forced onto my feet, and dragged out of the area.
I worry more about my children and Doo, but an even heavier weight bears down upon my heart for the fatherless little girl whose pictures are now impressed in every corner of my brain.
Second part is here. |DDDD I hope it wasn't too long and repetitive. SORRY. TTTTTT I don't know what to say here except I hope the third piece manifests itself soon. I will be adding Woonie's parents and perhaps more people...? Also, I hope that no one thinks Marilyn is a horrible English name. I really like that name... I almost named her Ariel. TTT I'm horrible with picking out names, anyway... u-u UM. Alllllso, the "AMBER Alert" thing mentioned earlier is an "emergency alert system" in the U.S. that alerts the public about missing children. I'm sure other countries have similar alert systems. ^^;; I hope. o-o It can be really effective if the child meets the criteria...
OTL Thank you very much for reading overall.........<3333333333 D: Really, really.
Next: Château de Versailles (3/?) Part One
Pairing(s): DooWoon, JunSeob (Brief)
Rating: PG-13+
Word Count: 7,075
Summary: Yoon Doojoon is a decorated police officer of New York City. Away from work, he is also the spouse of a sweetheart and a doting father of their triplets. He has brought countless criminals to justice, but one will bring him to his knees.
A/N: A look into JunSeob’s relationship, and news on distressed Woon and Yoon babies.
Previous: Château de Versailles (1/?)
(Yoon Apartment, 12:25 A.M…. Doojoon’s POV)
“9-1-1 operator. What’s your emergency?”
“Hello, this is Officer Doojoon Yoon of New York City’s Police Department. I’ve called to file four reports of kidnapping.”
“Who are the subjects?”
“My husband, Dongwoon Yoon, and our three children, Jungsu, Jungwha, and Junghee Yoon. They’re triplets.”
She pauses, writing their names down, I assume. I hope.
“Alright, sir. Could you give me some basic information, such as birthdays, hair and eye color, height, weight, et cetera? It will be of use to the public.”
“Sure. For Dongwoon, June 6, 1991. For the triplets, September 22, 2012…” I spend nearly three whole minutes giving her all the personal information I can relay.
“Can you pinpoint the time of their kidnapping?” she asks as soon as I finish.
“I was on duty when they were taken, so I can’t really ‘pinpoint’ it.”
“When did you discover they were missing?”
“Less than ten minutes ago. I came home, and they weren’t there. They’re always home when I get in. And as soon as I realized that they’d been taken, I received a call from an unlisted number. It was my husband, and he was hysterical. I talked to him for a few minutes, and then I was on the line with the kidnapper.”
“So you know of their kidnapper?”
“Yes. I believe him to be the spouse of a criminal I executed months before. The criminal’s name was Junhyung Yong from Brooklyn. I am not sure of the name of his husband.”
“Do you believe your family to be in immediate danger?”
“Welllllll, considering they’ve been taken by a drug dealer’s partner to an undisclosed location, then yes, I would say so.” That was the most rhetorical question I have ever been asked.
“When was the last time you’ve physically seen your husband and children?”
“Yesterday morning before I left for work, circa 6 A.M. That was the very last time. I called Dongwoon later on in the day-around afternoon-and he was on his way to a pharmacy in Jersey with the children.”
A pause.
“He’s pregnant, ma’am,” I press, “A month pregnant.”
“Understood. We’re going to do all that we can to help you, alright? Now what city in Jersey did your husband venture to?”
“Newark. East Newark.”
“So the kidnapping took place in New Jersey?”
“I suppose it did. That’s the last known place that I’m aware they’ve been to.”
There is another prolonged pause from the other line.
“………Alright, Mr. Yoon. Your reports and information has been added to the database. We will be working closely and promptly with law enforcement in Newark as well as New York City to recover your family. As for your children, we can only issue an AMBER Alert if there is a record of the kidnapper’s vehicle, and more information of their captor. The acquirement of a vehicle and more information are the only criteria needed to put your children in the AMBER system, and as we work on your case, that is highly possible. We will alert you whenever we hear of anything valuable to your case. Also, let us know if you yourself know or have found anything relative to the case.”
“Oh… okay. I will. Thank you for your time, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good night-or morning, rather.”
“You, too.”
I hang up.
…That’s it? That’s the end of it? A ten-minute conversation with an anonymous operator, and I am supposed-or expected-to sit around, kick back, and wait until I hear information about my family? I know how busy the NYPD can get on a daily basis. If I want some results, I’m going to have to be proactive. I can’t sit around and wait to hear anything or hear from anyone. Something tells me that I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands if I ever want to get anywhere.
I debate going to the pharmacy, but at this hour, Runa’s probably shut the place down. I want to speak with all those that come in contact with the four of them prior to the abduction. Easier said than done, maybe…
…I didn’t get the opportunity to say ‘I love you’ to Woon over the phone as he was in captivity. I realize that now. Just now. The last time I told him that I loved him was yesterday while he was on his way to the store. That was also the last time I spoke to the babies. I then think about the last time I touched them. When I’m called in early, I say my goodbyes to Dongwoon first, and then I trek to the boys’ room. That morning, I pet their heads, I kissed their faces, I stroked their backs. Jungwha even saw me enter the room. I had to pick him up and lull him back to sleep before he could alarm his brothers of my leaving. I actually got to hold him in my arms. That was the last time I got to touch any of them.
There have been many, many days where I have left my family early, without a proper, ritualistic “good bye.” It is just this day when I said my goodbyes to Dongwoon and my babies more than twenty-four hours ago, they were indefinite goodbyes.
I’m sick. It feels like I’ve just swallowed several billiard balls one after the other, and my body will not let me regurgitate. This is difficult for me to register. This is real. This is… this is unimaginable. Someone has my boys, my husband, against their own wills. I can’t ensure their safety, I can’t protect them. I can’t even tell them that everything will be alright. How and why am I even a policeman if I was unable to do those simple things?
I do not know how long Yong’s partner plans on keeping my family hostage and making them his personal playthings, but I will not stand for having this drag out for days or weeks or months. I will not let it go that far. I am going to exhaust all of my resources. I am going to do any- and everything within me to recover each and every one. They depend on me. I cannot let them down.
I dial up Guk’s cell. I know he’ll answer. We’re authorized to answer our cellphones even off duty. I hear a “click,” signaling his open line.
“Mmn.”
“Guk.”
“Yeah, Joon. I’m here. ‘Sup? Everything okay?”
“Sorry to wake you up, man, but something’s happened.”
“Obviously it’s something serious, otherwise you wouldn’t’ve called. What?”
I exhale, “Dongwoon’s missing. And so are the kids.”
“……Shit-for real? All of them?”
“Yeah, and I think I know who’s responsible. You remember that Junhyung guy a few months back?”
“Yeah, ‘course.”
“He was married. Junhyung was his husband. The spouse is most likely the one that’s orchestrated all of this. He told me over the phone that he wants to get back at me, and apparently he’s using my family to do it.”
“So you’ve talked to him?”
“Him and Dongwoon. Woon’s been separated from the boys, and he doesn’t know where he is and where they are. I don’t know where they are.”
“Do you have any leads on where they might be?”
“Remember when I called to check in with Woon during patrol? He and the babies were on their way to the store. So I had no worries, but the next thing I knew when I came home, he nor the kids could be found. Then he calls me from an unknown number in complete hysterics, scaring the shit out of me. The last known place he was at was the pharmacy…”
I hear Guk release a heavy sigh, “Damn, Joon. I… I don’t know what I’d do. How’re you holding up?”
I take a seat on the couch, my first time sitting down after half an hour of being at home. I’m very tense.
“It’s like it’s not registering in my head that my babies are gone. It’s like I’m expecting Dongwoon to call me to bed, or one of the boys to cry out for either one of us. It hasn’t hit me yet, but I’m not gonna wait around and let it. I know Woon’s doing all that he can to keep himself together. He’s expecting, and naturally, I’m highly worried for him and our child. I want him safe… Nothing was said about the boys and their possible whereabouts between Woon or Junhyung’s husband. But I’ve got some tough boys. They’ve survived days from being in the hospital, and I’ve seen ‘em hit their heads while playing and walk away, unfazed and laughing. They’ll be okay. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt those babies. Anyone. I alerted the department and gave them all of info I could, but you know how busy we get. How’re they gonna carve out the special time to find four people with so much already on their minds?”
“I agree with you. The interests of the department are all scattered and stretched. We’ve got missing persons reports open from years ago, since 9/11. But you’re not alone, Joon. You’ve got me. I’m here for you. Now I know this’ll be hard for you to do-and please don’t get mad at me for saying this to you-but you need to rest. You’ve been up since six, and you’re gonna need your rest if we’re gonna extensively search for Woon and the kids tomorrow. Try and get some sleep, even if it’s just for a couple hours, you hear me?”
“Yeah. I got cha, but it’s gonna be hard. Thanks for hearing me out this late.”
“Anytime, Doojoon. Call me as soon as you hear anything else during the night. I’ll be right here.”
“Thanks, Guk… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya. G’night.”
We disconnect, Guk returning to his sheets, and I, to thoughts. I curl up on the couch, still dressed in my uniform. My shoes are still on my feet. I press the home phone and my cell to my chest. My brain fights the aches of my body coaxing it to succumb to slumber. My orbs wander tirelessly, absently across the plane of my ceiling. A heaviness sets on my head, chest and stomach.
I think this is what it feels like to be scared.
(Yong Yoseob POV, Two Months Ago…)
Anything Yong Marilyn wants, Yong Marilyn gets.
She owns an immeasurable amount of dresses. She has more pairs of shoes than any other upper-class toddler. Her room is modeled exclusively after French Rococo style; it is fit for a princess.
She is my princess.
Junhyung has showered me with gift after gift after gift over the years that we have known one another, but this dear baby is the greatest gift he has ever given me and could ever give me. He did not want to have a child, even after several years of being together. But it happened. I remember him being scared stiff when I told him I was pregnant. And I was sort of afraid to, knowing that… But as she grew inside of me-and as Junhyung witnessed that-he grew. Jun transitioned into this beautiful, loving, fierce father. When I was put on strict bed rest, Marilyn-who was fairly hefty; she took a toll on me- was exclusively in the care of her father. He didn’t want to hire a nanny, or a sitter. He put one of his trusted tops in charge of his business for an entire month while he nurtured her, monitored her, played with her… Their bond was established straightaway. Her infant laughter from the nursery bounced off the walls and entered my domain.
A man, one who put his business before everything, even me a couple of times, began to realize what was more important to him, and what mattered the most in the world.
Marilyn is three now. Visually, she is the perfect mix of Jun and I. Her attitude? All Junhyung: Headstrong, determined, feisty, yet sweet when she wants to be. She’s a doll. I enjoy every minute I spend with her. She adores what little time she spends with Jun, greatly.
But as of late, Jun’s been staying in Brooklyn for evenings at a time. He would leave at night and return home in the morning, get some breakfast, play with Marilyn for a few moments, kiss her, kiss me, then head back to Brooklyn or wherever business takes him.
I’m not stupid. I am perfectly conscious of what my husband does. He deals in illegal substances, and once, he did so directly. Now he’s gotten so far up in the ranks that he has throngs of people to do that for him. That quells my worries somewhat, but I retain that eating, ever-present fear that at any moment I could permanently lose one of the greatest loves of my life… I knew what he was when we first met; He told me straight up. And I didn’t care. He was charming, lovable, and very frontal. That’s what I liked. I liked it so much, I decided to marry him, and stay married to him for ten years. He doesn’t have the safest job; that’s the understatement of the year.
To keep Marilyn and I safe, he purchased a grand house-initially for me, but now for our family-on one of the many coasts of Long Island. It’s where I spend most of my days. He rarely lets me into the city. When I must, however, Junhyung authorizes me to always have something covering my eyes, and my head if I must venture into Brooklyn, because, being in the business, Junhyung has accumulated a healthy amount of rivals that would do anything to cripple him. On one occasion, he passionately chastised me when I showed up to his quarters in Brooklyn unannounced and unprotected. He was so outraged tears streamed his steaming face as he screamed at me: “There’s only one o’ you! The fuck am I supposed to do if somethin’ happens to you!? The fuck am I supposed to tell Mari!?”
He’s beyond fearful of losing me, and I’m scared of losing him. It’s crazy, but we manage to make this love of ours work. And we are left with no other choice but to, with Marilyn in the mix.
The clock strikes nine. It’s nine in the morning. The sun’s been warming the sea water outside since six. I can smell the salt. It’s unlike me to wake up this late in the early day, but I have been emotionally exhausted, and subsequently, physically inept. Junhyung’s been staying out later, coming home later. Reports of increasing violence in Brooklyn hit my ears every day; I beg for him to be more cautious and aware… We’ve been through this for ten years, but my anxiety has increased since the birth of our baby girl. She adores her father, and I don’t want him torn away from her… and me.
I struggle out of bed. My eyes fall reflexively to my phone. Nothing from Jun. This doesn’t really bother me… or, at least, I try not to let it.
“Mama!! Mamaaa!”
Marilyn’s cooing for me. She’s always hungry around this time. I suppose I have to get breakfast going.
In slide-on slippers and Jun’s robe, I begin for Marilyn’s room. And what a room it is. On her four, bubblegum-pink walls are replicated portraits of historic, profound princesses spanning across the centuries. A crystalline, Rococo-era chandelier dangles above her white, wooden bed. Beneath it is a wiry-haired little girl with the brightest morning eyes. She is sitting in the middle of the sack, resembling a cumulus cloud in her satin evening gown.
“Ma,” Marilyn’s short grasping arms reach for me.
“Mariiiii~”
I bend over, scrape her up and into my arms, twirl, and shift back into a straight position. I start for the kitchen with her on my hip.
“Are you hungry? That’s why you woke Mama up?”
“Hungry~ I wan eat.”
“What else is new? How about a waffle for breakfast today? With some strawberries? Yeah?”
Marilyn beams at me at the mentioning of her most favorite of fruits. I walk with her into our extensive kitchen. She even has her very own tea table and set of chairs. A lamb, her treasured korilakkuma and a jumbo alpaca sit idly by in their assigned, petite tea seats. I lower Marilyn down on her two feet and she bolts for her tea table. One of many sterling tiaras lay on the tabletop. It’s actually her favorite one. She picks it up with her little fingers and digs the little combs on the sides into her curly hair. Jun got her in the habit of wearing it everywhere she went. She will tear the house up looking for this particular one, though.
“Ma where my cups?” she peeps.
I retrieve three eggs, the milk jug, and the carton of strawberries from the refrigerator, “I have to wash them, Mari. They’re dirty.”
“‘Dirty’?”
“Mmhm. Messy. You used them yesterday, baby. You’ll have them in a minute. You wanna help Ma with these strawberries first?”
“Ya.”
With a toddler’s enthusiasm, she grabs her little plastic stool from out of the corner and pushes it right in front of the center of the sink. I decide to put off preparing the waffle batter to spend a few minutes cutting and washing the strawberries with Marilyn. She boards the top of her stool, and I stand closely behind her. I put the carton of strawberries on the left of the sink, and a strainer on the left.
“Can you take the green leaves off for me?” I ask.
“’Kay.”
“And when you finish, put them in the strainer so I can wash them off.”
“I wash ’em. I do it.”
“Oh, you wanna wash them?”
“I do it,” she squeaks strongly, branching out for one of the strawberries in the carton.
I playfully back away, but I creep up behind her once again, holding her, “Alright, fine. Ma will just watch, then.”
Marilyn will not let me intervene in any way, but honestly, I like watching her work and figure things out for herself. She’s very smart. I like to think that she inherits that from me, but Jun and I often comically argue over that fact, and other traits she exhibits.
The amount of strawberries increases steadily in our little strainer. I patiently watch her, cutting the faucet on and off when needed, but in the back of my mind, thoughts of Junhyung taint this special moment. He typically trickles in circa eight, but he’s not here yet. It makes me worry; I hold Marilyn even closer. I was able to feel him whenever he came near, but ever since the birth of our daughter, I’ve not been able to sense his energy. I think Marilyn’s taken that from me. And case in point…
Marilyn abruptly stops tearing the leaves from her tenth strawberry. She blinks momentarily, and tries to turn around, but it’s kind of difficult with me gripping her so firm.
“What, sweetheart?”
“Papa!” she exclaims, squirming.
“Papa’s home?” I don’t hear any sort of engine.
Junhyung’s signature knock sounds off at the main door. My heart skips.
He crept up on me.
I assist Marilyn down her stool; she zooms into the living space, bouncing in front of the stained glass door. Jun’s familiar shadow sieves through.
“Papa, Papa~”
“Marilynnn,” I hear him chime from the other side. I open the door for him, and he enters with the morning sunlight, beaming down upon his little girl.
“Papa!!”
“Mornin’ baby girl,” he kneels before her, “C’mere.”
He needn’t say anymore. Marilyn hobbles into her father’s spread arms. Junhyung scoops her up, stands, and spins her around twice before holding her still in his arms and kissing her cheeks. Marilyn chortles in unmatched elation; the sounds tickle my heart.
“You are so pretty this morning,” he whispers. She kisses him, too, pecking his face, fixing her lopsided tiara. I close the door behind him. I retreat into the kitchen to finish the strawberries and expedite breakfast. The upset feelings that I felt from the minute I woke today return. I wish he would’ve responded to my messages at least, and not have me worry.
“And what are you up to?” I hear him ask her. He follows me into the kitchen.
“I make strawberries,” mentions Marilyn, “I make it in sink.”
“Strawberries? Yummy,” Junhyung finally places her evenly on the floor, but remains bent at an angle, “Guess what? Papa has a big surprise for you~”
“‘prise?” she repeats. I watch Junhyung reach behind him, into one of his back pockets. He makes three, pink, glittery strips of paper appear in front of her little face. She looks at them curiously, and then, she inhales loudly and grasps one of them.
“Snow White!” Marilyn hollers, “Ma! Snow White on here!”
She shows me the ticket, and indeed, amongst the other princesses is Snow White. She adores Snow White.
“Is that your ticket, Mari?” I question, and she nods happily. Junhyung must’ve gotten the tickets for the Disney on Ice princess show a month from now in NYC. She saw commercials of it weeks ago and begged for her enabling father to take her. Of course he caved.
“Papa bought you a new Snow White dress, but the mailman has to bring it here. You can wear it when we go to the princess show.”
“I see Snow White?” Marilyn asks.
Junhyung affirms to a nod, “Yep.”
That gets Marilyn going. She excitedly waddles out of the kitchen, waving her ticket around in the air and out of my sight. She shrieks like a siren. A happy siren. I imagine her to be aimlessly running in circles in the main room. Now with Marilyn out of the way, Jun takes time to tend to me. He starts with kissing along the back of my neck and into the crook. It tickles, but I do not laugh. I turn around sharply; he sweeps me right up.
“Did you get any of my calls? My texts?”
“I did,” he mumbles, avoiding my eyes.
“Then why didn’t you send anything back!? I was worried sick about you, Junhyung! I’ve been worrying about you all week! A month! The least you can do is call me back and let me know that you’re fine-!”
“-Okay, okay, shh… hush some. Mari’s not too far from here.”
I don’t realize how high a volume I’m hollering, or the hot wetness collecting in my eyes.
“You know how I feel about this… about you.”
“I’m sorry, Seob… I’m-Yoseob. Look at me.”
I look. My lips will not stop fidgeting. My jaw trembles. His palms feel cold against my cheeks.
“No. Stop… Don’t start cryin’. Please. Don’t cry. You know I can’t take that,” his thumbs efface my warm tear stains, and his lips embrace mine tenderly, “I can’t take that, Seobie. Please, baby. Don’t cry.”
“Junhy… I-I love you, Jun…” I can’t really breathe. I’m trying so hard not to cry. Again, I don’t really realize how hurt and scared I really am.
“And I love you, babe. I’m sorry… I was busy yesterday. Real busy. But I’m here now. I’m okay. I’m in one piece. Don’t get upset.”
“But I can’t help it. All I ask is that you contact me. Even if it’s just a ‘Hi,’ just talk to me, Jun. Let me know you’re alright. I mean, I’m in this house-this… bird cage-for hours on end, wondering about you consistently. I don’t like that feeling, that not-knowing feeling. I don’t like being here… I’d rather be at your side if anything were to happen.”
I feel Junhyung’s arms jerk me closer. His eyes briefly flash with black.
“Yoseob. You know damn well I’m not havin’ that. You call it a bird cage, but I keep you here to keep my birdies safe. If I know you and Mari are here and safe and alone, that brings me solace. I don’t wanna be worryin’ about you two. I love you, and I’d rather something to happen to me than something happen to you or Marilyn.”
“I’d rather nothing happen to you.”
“You know better than me that the game doesn’t promise that. I gotta do what I gotta do, baby. And you need to be here for Marilyn.”
…I sigh. I know that. Fully. My head feels swollen with pressure. I press my ear against his chest… The audible beat of my husband’s heart brings peace to mine. I grab him firmer, squeeze him closer. I close my eyes, and I listen to him inhale and exhale. Junhyung’s lips ruffle around in my hair. I don’t ever want to lose him. I don’t know anyone else. I have invested ten years of love, secrets and memories with this man. What am I to do with myself, if all of that is flushed out in one instance? My life would end. Everything would end. But I do not regret my decision. Falling in love with Junhyung was not a choice. I stood not a chance against resisting. My heart will always be with his.
“I love you, Yong Junhyung.” I kiss his left clavicle, then re-tuck my head into his chest. Jun’s lips feather about the roundness of my ear.
“I adore you,” he returns, both love and fear present in that breath.
(Next Day, 8:31 A.M., Doojoon’s POV)
Guk and I were to patrol twenty blocks from Times Square, but I told our chief of police my situation, and he granted us special permission to leave the state and head to Newark to Runa’s pharmacy. I’m parking parallel to the store now.
Runa runs outside, greeting me with happy relief, “I knew you’d come!”
“I would’ve come sooner,” I say with a slight laugh, abandoning the vehicle. She invites us inside her pharmacy. All three of us walk inside the store… I pull out a yellow inkpad from my back pocket. Guk hands me a pen. We stake ourselves by the checkout area. My eyes bounce around the saffron walls and the white, uniform aisles. I can already make out where some police work has been done.
“I see the yellow tape,” I mention.
“Yes. Police closed off the bathroom in the rear. Detectives are going to return in the afternoon to gather more evidence, if they can.”
The bathroom has relevance. I scope it out some… “Runa, if you can, just recall to us all that happened yesterday since Dongwoon’s arrival.”
“Sure sure. I-I was excited to see Woonie; the last time we saw each other was when he was pregnant. He pulled up in a cab, and walked in with the boys in the stroller. He introduced me to them, and he told me that he was expecting another baby. He said his whole purpose of coming here was to stock up on prenatal vitamins, and I showed him to the aisle they were in. And less than two minutes later, some guy in a black ski mask bursts in and shoots two shots in the ceiling of the store,” Runa points to the punctures, my eyes following the direction of her arm, “You can see them right there. He orders every to stay quiet, and then he points the gun at me and tells me to hold up my hands. He told me he’d kill me if I touched the phone… After that, more men in masks come in the store, and I see them looking around. They grabbed customers, look them over, and then headed into the rear of the store near the bathroom. I think I heard the door kicked in, and then I hear faint screams from babies. From then on, I knew they found them.”
“You couldn’t see any of the men’s faces?” Guk asks, observing the bullet holes above.
“No. They were all wearing masks. Well, all except for one.”
“Can you describe him to me?” I ready my pen again.
“Um… This guy… he was shorter than you, shorter than Woonie, too. He had blonde hair, but not blonde blonde. Golden, maybe, but it was loud. He looked young. Maybe twenty-something. He entered after the men rushed into the store. He went into the bathroom where Woonie and the babies were hiding, and then in a minute, I see men flood into the bathroom. Some come out with the babies, and they were crying all the way out of the door. I think they all left in a single car… I heard Woonie shouting for them to come back… I don’t think he could’ve reached them if he tried… Woonie followed behind them minutes later; they blindfolded him and carried him out into another car, separate from the boys. It broke my heart to watch and not do a thing about it… I’m sorry, Doojoon. I should’ve done something. I’m so sorry…! No one could call the police till long after they left!! It was too late then.”
“It’s alright, Runa,” I tell her softly, “You did all you could to protect yourself. We wouldn’t want to hear about any casualties that took place… Do you have any cameras inside the store?”
“I did. As you can see, they destroyed the ones inside before they left. The cameras outside the store and the corner of the street remain surprisingly. I called the police when I was sure they weren’t returning. Newark police came, and they requested to get the tapes. It’ll take at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours for them to process anything, but they have the footage right now. I’m sure they’ll give you copies if you request them. They also found one of the boys’ shoes… It was under one of the aisles. The men took the stroller, and I’m sure they would’ve taken the shoe had it not been hidden under one of the aisles. They described the bottom of the shoe as having initials.”
“Dongwoon initials all the boys’ clothes and shoes to keep up with them. Did they share with you any specific letters?” I squeeze the pen between my fingers.
“Yes. They were ‘J,’ ‘S,’ and ‘U.’”
“Jungsu. That was Jungsu’s shoe.” That doesn’t surprise me. Jungsu hates wearing shoes and socks. I typically find humor out of that, but presently, it does nothing but petrify me…
“……I’m sorry, Doojoon,” murmurs Runa.
I stow the pad and pen away. “It’s quite alright… Well, thank you for your time, Runa. We’re going to get in contact with Newark police department and see what we can salvage from them, but let us know if you find out anything more,” I say. She embraces both Guk and I.
“You’re welcome, Doojoon. And I sure will. I pray you find Woonie and your boys soon… Good luck.”
We depart from the store, lingering on the concrete sidewalk… My core feels as if it’s been lit ablaze. The details of this abduction are traumatic. Learning that Dongwoon is separated from our children disturbs me the greatest. I am only able to fathom what that is doing-and has done-to him.
“I’m sure Newark’s already asked around the block, but it wouldn’t hurt to give a couple interviews, too. I think we should ask some of the shop owners in the neighboring stores if they’ve seen anything,” Guk begins.
“Yeah… I’ll definitely call up there and ask for whatever information the police’s gotten from the camera’s and the public. Those tapes can definitely tell us something, though. They probably caught the cars that were used, and the golden boy involved. He’s our person of interest.”
“He’s who we want. We gotta find ‘im, Joon.”
If Junhyung’s husband is as elusive as he was, this recovery will potentially be strenuous and longwinded. But I want to know everything. I cannot rest until I know everything, and even after that, I will keep collecting information until I drop.
(Undisclosed Location, Dongwoon’s POV)
It’s been a day now, I believe. From what I learned from eavesdropping on Yong-ssi and Doojoon’s conversation, Yong-ssi is seeking revenge for the death of his partner. The kids and I are his hostages. This is a hostage situation.
Before they threw me into a car, they took my cellphone and blindfolded me. When the cloth was lifted, I was pushed into a hotel-like space and left there. That is where I am now. This apartment does not have any windows. There isn’t a phone. There is only a refrigerator-one that is empty-a closet that is also empty, a bathroom, and a small kitchen, and a twin-sized bed. It is definitely not the place that I frightfully imagined I would be thrown in to. It is more… sterile and empty. I don’t know the time of day. I don’t know if it’s day or night. I don’t know anything.
I’ve been sitting on top of my bed for… about three hours. It’s disturbingly quiet. Three little faces are stamped to the front of my conscious. My babies… I regret not doing more. They were taken because of me. There was something I could’ve done… I was inadequate as their protector.
I pray they are safe. I hope this has not terrified them, but I am sure they are shaken up to some degree. I also hope they were not split up. They’ve always been together, and to be separated from one another could prove to be psychologically disastrous for them. They are a unit; they need each other.
Doojoon is inarguably disoriented by this whole predicament. I miss him already. I know he’s looking for us. Doojoon never gives up. That serves as comfort to me, so I should not be as worried as I am. Doojoon doesn’t know how to give up. He’s passed that along to our boys.
I wish he finds them first.
BANG. BANG.
The door is bust open.
I have no time to react.
A man in relaxed garments but with the same ski mask retaining his anonymity storms in with… a tray of food. He throws it onto the petite round table in the center of my space.
“You got three minutes,” he huffs.
I look to the tray. I look at him. I crawl to the place, gazing at the simple meat-and-cheese sandwich. There is an eight ounce cup of water, too, but most of it has already been spilled due to the man’s handling of the tray. I can’t spent too much time scrutinizing. I’ve only been given three minutes to eat. I’m surprised that they are actually feeding me…
The man occupies a vacant chair and watches me scarf down bite after bite. It’s an uncomfortable atmosphere with him present. I make attempts to not have eye contact and keep my eyes glued to my sandwich. Because I’m eating and swallowing so fast, the food feels lodged in my throat and below. Drinking down the water does not alleviate this discomfort. It’s as if nothing has gone into my stomach.
The rim of the paper cup leaves my lower lip, and as soon as it does, the waiting male stands, pulling out a familiar black strip. His huge hand clasps my wrist and jerks my entire body onto his. Not this again. I tussle with him, writhing, but he stills me by buckling my body in with his idle arm.
“Be a good boy. I don’t wanna have to hurt you.”
“What are you doing…?”
“Boss wants to see you.”
He twists me around-about face-and ties the strip around my head, covering my eyes. Again, my world blackens. There’s a second strip that binds my wrist together in the back of me. I hear the door widen with creaking, and I am escorted out of the room.
“Keep walkin’ straight. Don’t stop till I tell you. You’ll be sorry if you try to escape from me.”
I obey his grating demands. Occasionally, I trip over my feet… but my balance is supported by the man behind me. It is a long walk. I hear sounds of life all around me: laughter of men, television, games, yelling… I begin to wonder where I am exactly, and that’s when I am whipped back after taking one step too many.
“Right here,” announces the male. I hear a door being opened. I’m pulled in, and shortly dropped in a chair. I am given my sight back, and the very person I see is the one known as Yong-ssi. He’s seated behind a desk. He’s smiling unusually. We are left in private.
“Hello Dongwoon. I hope you are well-rested. I like all of my guests to be comfortable. How’s Day One been for you?”
I stare emptily at him.
“Where are my babies?” I ask.
Yong-ssi’s eyes are not so warm anymore. His smirk falls.
“I asked you a question.”
I can harden my voice, too, retaliating with, “I asked you a question.”
Yong-ssi leans further back in his chair. The dark dots in the middle of his eyes stab me.
“You’re a feisty bitch. And I can admire that,” he slightly leans forward, “but you listen to me. I answer to no one, and I’m damn sure not going to start with you. Let me tell you something: Right now, you’re in my domain. I run shit day in and day out here. I am the baddest motherfucker in this bitch, and I do what the fuck I want to do. You are beneath me. Therefore, you answer to me. Now this is my last time telling you. It would be your best interest to cooperate, or things can turn real ugly for you and your babies.”
I open my throat by swallowing nervously, thinking of my boys and their safety. I just want to know that they’re alright. I’m mortified for them. I haven’t been apart from them for this long since their first month in the NICU. They were premature, being born a month early. I could not touch them or hold their little bodies. I had to observe them from outside of their incubators for days. Those feelings resurface, hitting me at all angles of my heart.
“I’ve been told from some of my boys that they’ve spotted Doojoon and his partner at the pharmacy today.”
“Doojoon.” My heart pumps faster. I am both ecstatic and fearful for him.
“Yep. Hubby’s been crawling all over the place today, and he should’ve been,” Yong-ssi steadily sits back into his chair, crossing his legs. His gaze in my direction is long and calculative. A smile creeps upon his lips.
“Aren’t you pregnant right now?”
I can feel my eyes grow two sizes. How could he have possibly known…?
“My boys have been watching and following you around for at least two weeks. How do you think they found you? I know just about everything that I need to know about you, including your little trip to the doctor. How far along are you?”
“…………About a month.”
Yong-ssi smiles my way.
“Congratulations. I bet Doojoon’s worried fucking sick about you even more. Knowing that warms my heart some… Jun and I have a daughter together: Marilyn. She’s three-years-old. That’s her right there,” says Yong-ssi, pointing to a picture on the wall of a small girl proudly showing what little teeth had sprouted. I did not realize this initially, but her pictures are actually everywhere, all around the walls. Another man is present in these pictures. I assume Yong-ssi’s husband, and her father. He appears to be truly happy to be in her presence, and she happy to be carried in his arms.
“She’s beautiful,” I comment.
“Thank you. That’s my baby girl.”
“But… how would you feel if someone suddenly ripped her away from you? You have a child; you know perfectly well what this is doing to me. Why would you do this to someone else? My boys need me, and they need their father.”
And I, in that moment, see something break behind the other’s irises. I can hear him swallowing needlessly hard. His misleadingly friendly face sinks into a straight, bold, heavy grimace. He rises out of his chair and leans forward. Our noses are a foot apart. He inhales slowly…
“Fuck. your. children. You think you-you think they have it hard? Your little imps are alive. They have their trigger-happy father. Marilyn’s father is dead. She will never, ever get to see him ever again. She loved that man as deeply as a little girl could love her father, and she still does. Every day she asks me to get him, and every day I have to explain to her why I can’t. She cries every night for him. She doesn’t understand, and that hurts her, and that hurts me, watching her go through that. I don’t give a damn what Jun did for a living. He was a father and he did not deserve to be taken away from her!!”
“Doojoon told me it was an accident-!!”
“DON’T SPOUT THAT BULLSHIT. THOSE FUCKING PIGS HAVE BEEN AFTER JUN’S HEAD FOR THE PAST SIX MONTHS. THEY WANTED HIM DEAD. I’M NOT FUCKING STUPID. IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK, BITCH? YOU THINK I’M FUCKING STUPID?” Yong-ssi-all of the blood flowing into his visage-slams his fist against the wooden top of his desk with a frightening force, “SOMEONE GET THIS WHORE OUT OF MY FUCKING SIGHT.”
The door slams open, and just as I turn my neck to see, I am yet again blinded with a strip of skin-irritating, black cloth. It’s tightly tied. My eyeballs feel like they’re going to sink into the back of my skull. My arms are yanked and twisted as if they are licorice behind my back without a care. I’m plucked out of the chair like a scorned weed and roughed around, forced onto my feet, and dragged out of the area.
I worry more about my children and Doo, but an even heavier weight bears down upon my heart for the fatherless little girl whose pictures are now impressed in every corner of my brain.
Second part is here. |DDDD I hope it wasn't too long and repetitive. SORRY. TTTTTT I don't know what to say here except I hope the third piece manifests itself soon. I will be adding Woonie's parents and perhaps more people...? Also, I hope that no one thinks Marilyn is a horrible English name. I really like that name... I almost named her Ariel. TTT I'm horrible with picking out names, anyway... u-u UM. Alllllso, the "AMBER Alert" thing mentioned earlier is an "emergency alert system" in the U.S. that alerts the public about missing children. I'm sure other countries have similar alert systems. ^^;; I hope. o-o It can be really effective if the child meets the criteria...
OTL Thank you very much for reading overall.........<3333333333 D: Really, really.
Next: Château de Versailles (3/?) Part One