His features lighten and a new determination appears on his face.
Leaving one gun with me, he takes one in each hand as he signals me to stay put behind a tree.
It's a flurry of bullets, the noise getting increasingly louder. All the while, I'm praying that nothing will happen to Jungkook and that I won't become a widow.
Clutching the gun, I mentally go over the steps Jungkook had shown me, making sure the safety is off before I rest my finger lightly on the trigger. Somehow the position isn't wholly unfamiliar. My mind may find it foreign, but my body doesn't as I grasp on to the gun with unusual ease.
Grunts permeate the air, the sound of fighting almost deafening in the dead of the night. My heart thunders in my chest as I think about Jungkook all alone out there and the fact that I'm so freaking useless I can't help him.
I wish I were like Leona.
After seeing the video, a lot of things are starting to make sense, particularly why her and my brother are such a good fit—they're both bloodthirsty.
But in this situation, I find that being bloodthirsty isn't that bad. No, when it's your life on the line, there's only one thing you can do—fight.
Shaking in my hiding space, I barely react when I feel something against my temple, the cold of the steel immediately letting me know what it is.
"Don't move," a voice says, urging me to get up and kicking the gun from my hand.
As I stand up, a man sneaks behind me, one hand against my waist, the other holding the gun to my temple as he leads me towards a small clearing.
Sweat gathers all around my forehead, the thought of dying making me hyperventilate.
As soon as we reach the open space, I note Jungkook and another five men engaged in a standstill.
He has one of the men against him, holding him as a shield as he points his gun towards the other four.
On the ground, there are at least three or four corpses, blood staining the grass and making it look an odd color in the moonlight.
Jungkook's eyes connect with mine as his nostrils flare in anger at the sight of a gun jabbed against my head.
"You want the girl to live, you let him go," the man behind me spits the words, jabbing the butt of the gun into my temple and making me wince.
A putrid smell wafts from him, and I almost gag, my face contorting in discomfort.
Jungkook notes this too, narrowing his eyes at me as he peruses my form for any damage.
"You'll kill us both anyway," he says, raising a brow.
"True," the man behind me guffaws. "But at least you won't see her die first," he continues laughing.
Across the small distance, our eyes meet and I can see his mind hard at work calculating all the possibilities.
With four other men pointing guns at him, and me already captured, the odds are really slim.
"One question first. Since I will die anyway," Jungkook starts, taking a step forward with his own hostage.
The other men jerk back, following his movements closely. "Who sent you? Ronan Jeon?"
The man scoffs.
"I don't know no Ronan Jeon," he states. "You're our ticket to a million bucks."
"Right," Jungkook almost rolls his eyes at the obvious. "But who is paying the money?"
"No business of yours," he barks, lowering his head to my cheek, his breath on my skin.
"Compadre, cortala. Ya es tarde y nos costaron dos coches. Mata a la puta y yo tiro al gringo," another calls out. "Sabes que si no nos apuramos, y sus chicos nos van a delantar."
"Ya, se. Pero ella no tiene que morir. Podemos divertirnos poquito," he says right as he takes a strand of my hair between his meaty fingers, bringing it to his nose, "no es cada dia que encontramos una alta dama como esta," he laughs, and so do the others, nodding their heads.
Dread fills me to the brim, and I barely register that I understand everything they're saying—me, the girl who could barely string together two words of Spanish.
I don't get to dwell on it, though, as one shot resounds in the air.
My eyes grow wide, my body still in shock as the man next to me falls to the ground.