time, don’t stay here,
go away for a moment

Vernon led me downstairs, and we hit the floor running. The shooting was still going on from both sides, and police intervention didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon.

He still had a death grip around my wrist, keeping me anchored to him though it was hard for me to keep pace with him. The injury to my head had left me disorientated, and immediate medical attention was the last thing I could get.

It seemed that none of the other bikers had received enough clearance to go upstairs, unlike Yeosang, which made me wonder if Jinyoung was still safe. He probably was, though, because if someone was a match for Yeosang, then it was his own equivalent in the racers.

I had subconsciously scrunched up my face against the choking smell of gunpowder and blood, but I could still see some of the racers with their guns drawn out. My pulse picked up its pace as I thought about Lay, wondering if he was present at the scene.

Find him.

I knew I should've ignored Yeosang's words, considering how he had been close to killing me just a few minutes ago. Doubt was beginning to eat at me, despite all the arrows pointing in disfavour of listening to him. Already, the seed was growing into a plant, vines wrapping around my thoughts and telling me to go find Lay.

I closed my eyes to block out the bloody sight, though that wouldn't have been the best move while running. If Yeosang had been the one to seek me out instead of a more dependable killer, then it was still possible that not all the bikers were here. Maybe it was just the expendable ones.

Vernon suddenly switched directions, and I reopened my eyes to stop from running into a wall. His hand was still tightly wound around mine, and the way he angled his body in front of mine made sure that any oncoming bullet would hit him, not me. I felt a flush of gratitude towards him, then guilt, then shame.

How many people had to die because of me? Especially the ones that I cared about?

We entered the quieter side of the building, the lack of lightbulbs paired with the night sky making it almost impossible to see. I could tell we were closer to the exit by the way Vernon relaxed almost visibly, slowing down to allow me to catch my breath before we plunged outside.

It wasn't long before we were at the back door, the same place I had first been introduced to the racing racket in Seoul. If I turned, I knew I would be able to see the couch where I'd kissed Seulgi, and moments later, seen Vernon wink through the crowd.

The backdoor separated the bar from the exit, and the passage was secluded enough that I'd be able to leave with no problem. And if Jimin picked me up, my getaway would be even quicker.

My heart lightened considerably as we neared the door, my fingers now intertwined with Vernon's. He half-turned, eyes holding reassurance, and pushed open the door.

I guess I'd thought too soon.

Another gunshot greeted us as soon as he did, but not from the passage we had just opened. He swore, and crouched behind the couch, pulling me down with him. But not before I saw him—the same black eyes, stringy blonde hair, the haggard yet fundamentally poisonous expression.

"Hyojong," I whispered.

"I know," Vernon hissed back, jaw clenched. I could almost feel my heart plummet into my gut, at the rapid change in events. "If the leader is here, then that means—"

"Everyone's here." I could feel the beginnings of a familiar sting in my eyes, and squeezed them shut before the pressure behind them could lead to tears. "There's no way I can leave."

His hand grasped mine with renewed strength. "Look at me," he whispered, as another shot rang over our heads. It was a wonder one of them hadn't found us yet. I opened my eyes, looking straight into his eyes, the fiery determination in them. "You're getting out of here. You're getting out of here alive and safe, all right?"

I swallowed back a scream, and inhaled. His lips were a thin line, a small frown of concentration tugging at his eyebrows. "I'll shoot at them, give them a primary target," he said, constantly switching the position of his hand around mine, and he pressed another gun into my free hand. "And you run."

"No." My answer was immediate, though I already knew there was no way I was going to be able to talk him out of this. "I'm not leaving you—I'm not leaving anyone behind. Not anymore."

His eyes softened for a moment, though it didn't make the fire in them disappear. "I'll find you," he whispered, lips pursed. "When all of this is over. I promise."

I blinked back my tears, hanging my head and trying to calm the erratic beating of my heart. I felt like a coward, running away instead of facing my past, though I knew I was in no position to do so.

After a few long seconds, I nodded reluctantly, and his grip loosened. His expression remained reassuring, even as he pulled himself back, preparing to get up.

I couldn't help but look at him. The worst of us. There could have been so many things he had to hide, so many promises to keep. I stared at him, his taut shoulders, the unacknowledged bravery on his face, the mountain of secrets he probably had, leaving him untrustworthy to everyone and closed off from the world. A wild card.

Just like me.

Carefully, I touched the side of his face, making him turn towards me in surprise, before leaning closer and pressing my mouth to his. As I did, there was a twinge in my chest, like hot metal curling, and pulled away seconds later, heartbeat hammering away in my chest.

He looked dazed. "I..."

"For good luck," I whispered, slowly getting up from my crouching position. Slowly, he nodded, as if coming out of a dream.

Click. Click. Click.

He jumped into position as I made a run for it, ducking my head as the volley of shots rang out almost immediately, some overlapping from both sides and creating a wave of noise. Feeling adrenaline pumping into my bloodstream like a drug, I sprinted across the passageway, thinking, if I keep running, they can't catch me.

Jimin greeted me with nothing but a nod of acknowledgement, ducking back into his car as soon as I reached it. I got in, breathless, my mind a mess of thoughts, and he gunned the engine, and the building soon became smaller and smaller as we raced out of sight.

"Well, that was sudden," he commented, his offhand tone juxtaposing with the severity of what I had just witnessed.

"They weren't going to hand out warning pamphlets, if that's what you're implying." I sounded bitter, rightfully so. It was crazy to think that someone who had been living with criminals would treat the situation so carelessly. The gun still weighed me down, feeling like the heaviest of loads despite being so small in size.

"Don't be so snappy, princess," he cocked an eyebrow, and I looked away in revulsion. "Hey, it's not that big of a deal. It's just an endearment, not the end of your multiple relationships."

"I'm going to have to ask you to shut up," I muttered when I realized had made the latter statement about the 'princess' thing. "My multiple relationships are hardly the most important thing right now."

As I spoke, I shifted away from him but a fraction. Apparently, he noticed, because he rolled his eyes, making another comment that couldn't have been related to anything else.

"I'm not making a move on you, princess," he said, looking amused despite the situation. "I'm gay."

"Oh." I really needed to stop making assumptions about people's personalities based simply off of Seulgi's baseless descriptions. "Gay people are cool."

"Gay people are normal. Normal people are cool."

"Yeah." I sighed. I didn't know if I could classify any of the racers as normal. "I meant in the context of my...situation."

He nodded like he understood, but I was pretty sure that he didn't. I didn't feel the need to explain it to him, but the conversation had made me feel better, almost normal about the situation, save from my still-trembling hands.

"Why are we even talking about this?" I asked in a small voice.

"I don't know," Jimin raised both his eyebrows. "You tell me."

I shook my head, staring out of the closed window at nothing in particular. It was pitch-like outside, and I wondered what time it was. It was nightfall, but the exhaustion that had began to drape over me seemed like it's cause was more than just the fight I had been in. Time, it seemed, had passed much too quickly in the building.

Jimin hit the brakes just outside the same field that Jinyoung had brought me to on the night of the chase. "Just in case someone's tailing us," he explained, as I got out of the car. "You'll be switching here, but be quick so that they don't catch on. Taeyong will take you to the safe house."

I nodded, leaning against the door for support a moment longer before pushing off. When he drove away, I stared at the McLaren's tail until it was nothing but a speck in the distance.

I did not want to get inside Taeyong's car.

It was a first, because the now-repaired Corvette looked even more beautiful and polished that when I'd first seen it. Even under the bare light from the stars, it seemed to gleam, and for a split second, I was just another teenager in love with a Stingray.

Then the redhead rolled down the window. "Hurry. We don't have much time."

The car ride felt suffocating, but this time, not with sexual tension. Taeyong didn't seem to notice it, but he seemed as separated and brooding as he had been when I had first met him, as if he was trying to make us seem like strangers again. This surprised me, because the last time we had been alone together—not counting when I'd tried to get him out of a crushed GT—he had been adamant on not letting go.

I tried to convince myself that he had probably seen the truth of my statement, how he would be crushed if I left Korea without any closure. However, his emotionless face still made me uneasy, especially the emptiness in his tone when he spoke to me, where there had earlier been fondness.

It wasn't a hurt kind of feeling either.

I didn't know if I could trust him anymore, and that felt like a low blow after all I had went through with him. It didn't give me a choice, and the only thing I could do when we reached the safe house was try not to look at him before entering the building.

It was the same one Taehyung had taken me to, where I had first seen his tattoo. The situation felt like déjà vu, with the darkness of the sky, the same door in the garage I used to enter the house, the same, pale ribbon of moonlight illuminating the floor coming through the slit in the curtains.

I stepped into the dark room quietly, expecting it to be empty. Taeyong hadn't followed me inside, and if I could still trust him, he was waiting for me to get the papers from their hiding spot, as Baekhyun had instructed me. As I reached for the medical kit, however, a figure moved into the moon's light, bare-skinned and tall.

I froze. If someone from the racers, someone sharper like Jennie had shown up to look after me in the safe house, there was no way I was making it to the airport in time. Maybe I could slip out quietly before they noticed me, and it would be hard to see with the absolute darkness of the room.

The person shifted again, more of their upper back coming into view. I relaxed a bit as I realized it was male, the shoulders too broad to be anything but. He had his shirt off, most probably to tend to a wound, and ink peeked out from the curve of his shoulder, just next to his neck.

Taehyung was the only one out of the racers whom I knew to have a tattoo, and I sighed silently, relieved. It would be easier to get away without notifying him.

Then the man stepped sideways, sending the light spilling onto the entirety of his tattoo. I was riveted to my spot, fascinated by the way the black lines linked together to create something so beautifully frightening.

A wolf.

The first-aid box fell from my hands, clattering to the ground with a noise loud enough to make him turn. As much as I didn't want to, I knew this man, I knew every scar, every vein, every inch of his being as well as I knew myself. Same lips, same jaw, same eyes—gold, flecked gray.

Lay.

──────

oops?

AHAHAH i've been waiting for this so long lmao sorry about the cliffhanger.

thoughts so far? theories?

three more chapters left, how y'all feeling?

love,
Manx.

p.s. stan a.c.e. (check out under cover, you will not be disappointed i promise)