Dragon's Kiss - 2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He couldn’t breathe!

Panic swept through him, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He choked, his lungs burning for air. The pressure holding down the pillow on his nose and mouth was overwhelming. He struggled, kicking his legs. His assailant was kneeling over him, holding him in place. He managed to wriggle his right arm out from the punishing hold.

He hit the taut arm holding the pillow to his face. It did nothing. Despite the adrenaline pumping through him, Haje was getting lightheaded. The bitter taste of fear filled his mouth, and he bit the pillow. His right hand searched for a weapon, his fingers bumping into the bedside table. He knocked over a glass, there were papers, a pen that rolled away, his fingers kept searching…

The door crashed open, and the pressure against his nose stopped. Pushing the pillow out of his face, he sat up, gasping. He greedily took in precious air, vowing he’d never take the simple act of breathing for granted again.

He scrambled off the bed, the sound of a tussle on the floor finally penetrating the cloudy haze in his head. He bent down to pick up his walking cane and went around the bed hoping to help his rescuer. He gasped at the sight of two men struggling on the floor; he couldn’t tell who’d tried to kill him. Raising his walking cane, he decided neither of them should be in Shin’s room anyway. Maybe they were in cahoots. He took a step closer, ready to act.

The men on the floor moved, and suddenly one of them threw a chair at the window, shattering the glass, and jumped out. Haje gripped the walking cane harder when the figure on the floor got to his feet. A tall, forbidding man was dressed in black, looking more than strong enough to have held him down on the bed.

The lights came on, and he swung his cane with all his might at the tall man.

*****

Vincent Chandler walked around Shin’s apartment in East Park, browsing through books and sifting files, making sure to leave each one as he’d found it. The police had already searched the apartment and had found nothing suspicious. However, there had to be something. He stopped in the middle of Shin's room.

A photograph on the desk caught his attention. Shin and Haje were laughing into the camera. Shin was the careful type. He would have kept his dangerous secrets from his twin.

Being protective, Vincent thought. Picking up the picture frame, his gaze riveted on Haje’s smile. Vincent thought about that slender figure prowling the dark house as a slight frown creased his forehead. Haje never slept; he limped around the house like a ghost. When he wasn’t walking, Haje stayed in the study downstairs, the door locked so that his mother couldn't hear him cry. The tears coming with heartbroken cries made Vincent feel like an intruder witnessing Haje’s grief, but he couldn’t stop listening. The Strassen Foundation paid his bills, and Jaxton Donovan, his boss, wanted him to watch Haje Young.

His cell phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to check the message. He’d rigged his surveillance equipment to alert him in case someone arrived at the Young house. His team had sneaked into the house when Haje had been in the hospital and put up discreet cameras in all the rooms and around the property perimeter. He’d also bugged the house phones.

Vincent spent most of his days lately in a van down the street, watching the Young family. He accessed the video feed, expecting to see a visitor at the door. It was only eight o’clock, so visitors at this time would likely be family. A frown danced to his forehead when he found the front-door camera. There was no one at the door. He’d left Haje sleeping in Shin’s room. Seol and the housekeeper had been sitting in the parlor downstairs talking quietly.

Returning the picture frame to its place, he hurried around the desk and plugged his phone to Shin’s computer. The alert came again, and he combed through the video feed.

Haje was still in Shin’s room. Seol had gone upstairs to her bedroom, and the housekeeper was busy in the laundry room. He found the intruder in the backyard just past the flower gardens. The bastard had tripped the fence-perimeter camera.

Cursing, he rushed out of the study, practically running out of the apartment, and headed to the exit.

He drove like a madman, cutting off drivers, and running up the curb where he could, as he raced to get to Lakeshore Boulevard. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he saw the Young front lawn. He parked the car haphazardly and ran to the front door.

He didn’t bother knocking. Seol never locked her front door. He needed to talk to her about that habit. Silently, he went up the stairs as fast as he could. He turned east and hurried to Shin’s room. If it was possible, he wanted to catch the intruder.

He paused at the door, pushing it open silently. The sound of crashing glass spurred him into action. Bursting into the bedroom, anger swept through him when he saw a dark figure over Haje on the bed. The intruder had a black mask over his head and dark, fitted clothes that allowed for easy movement. The figure turned, saw him, jumped off Haje, and rushed to the windows. Haje inhaled loudly and sat up on the bed.

Happy that Haje was still alive, Vincent ran after the intruder. Vincent managed to grab a handful of black fabric. Bunching his fingers tight, Vincent pulled the bastard back. He kicked the figure’s left shin, the momentum dropping them both to the floor. He held on tight to the man’s arms, fighting to get on top of him and pull off the ski mask. The bastard punched him in the gut and broke his hold. With lightning speed, the dark figure got to his feet, threw a chair at the windows and jumped out.

The lights came on, Seol ran in just as Haje swung his walking cane, targeting Vincent’s head. The expensive wood cracked against Vincent’s forehead, and he moaned in painful irritation. He took a step back to avoid Haje’s swinging cane.

“Haje,” Seol said running to her son’s side. “Are you alright? I heard a crash and—”

“Someone tried to suffocate me,” Haje said, trembling, brown eyes filled with fear. Haje pointed his cane at Vincent again. “This guy and another one were struggling on the floor. I don’t know whether he’s—”

Seol turned to look at him in shock. “Mr. Chandler? What are you doing in my son’s bedroom?”

“Saving him,” Vincent growled, annoyed by Haje’s distrust. His head was hurting where Haje had hit him. “Please ask your son to put his cane down.”

“You know him?” Haje demanded of his mother, still threatening Vincent with his cane.

Vincent held up his hands to show no intention to harm Haje. “You should take a seat, Haje. You’re in shock. In a minute the adrenaline will fade away, and you’re going to fall on your face.”

“I’m fine,” Haje insisted, looking back with suspicion. “Who are you? How do I know you didn’t try to kill me?”

“Because I didn’t jump off from the second floor,” Vincent said with a matching glare. “Mrs. Young, I apologize for rushing into the house like this.”

Seol shook her head, her arm going around Haje’s waist when he stumbled on his bad leg.

“You saved my son.” She reached for Haje’s right hand. “Honey, use the cane to support yourself. Mr. Chandler is a friend. What are you doing in Shin’s room?”

Haje lowered his cane reluctantly. He started shaking, and Seol helped him limp to an armchair by the wall. “I got sidetracked on the way to my room. I fell asleep and then I woke up, and I couldn’t breathe, Mom. I couldn’t breathe—”

Seol knelt on the floor and pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re alright. You’re safe now.”

Haje held on, lifting his head from his mother's shoulder to look at Vincent suspiciously. Relenting, he said, “If this man hadn’t come in, I’d have died. Whoever it was had me pinned down good.”

Seol sighed and pulled back to check over her son. Her hands dropped to his legs and she sighed.

“Thank God for Mr. Chandler. Haje, you’re shaking; we need to get you warm.” Seol touched Haje’s dark slacks. “You’re still in your funeral clothes. You’re going to catch a cold.”

“I don’t need to change.” Haje waved her off, touching his mouth gently. He lifted his head to look at Vincent. “I need to know how Mr. Chandler knew to save me. Who are you, exactly?”

Vincent adjusted his coat and checked the holster hidden under his jacket discreetly. “My name is Vincent Chandler, Strassen Foundation security. I was working as a bodyguard for your twin brother.”

“Shin,” Haje said his eyes wide with surprise. “Why would my brother need a bodyguard?”

“His work,” Seol replied standing up. She perched on the arm of Haje’s chair, her hand on Haje’s shoulder. “Your brother didn’t want you to know about Vincent. He went to a lot of trouble to keep you safe.”

“Keep me safe?” Haje stared at Vincent in confusion. “Mom, what are you talking about? Why would Shin need protection?”

“She doesn’t know, and neither do I,” Vincent answered him. “My orders were to make sure Shin was safe.”

“Make sure Shin was safe?” Haje asked, his tone filled with disdain. “His ashes are in the lake. Is that what you call safe?”

“Haje!” Seol exclaimed.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Young,” Vincent said. He blamed himself for Shin’s death; one more person doing the blaming couldn’t hurt. Haje’s anger was more than justified.

“It’s not alright.” Haje got to his feet again, nearly pushing his mother to the floor in his haste. The cane was up in the air again, pointing at Vincent. “You…you’re the reason why Shin is dead, aren’t you? You didn’t do your job right, so now Shin is dead.”

“Haje, you’ve had a shock. You’re not thinking straight. Vincent did his best.” Seol tried to calm her son. “I promise you no one expected what happened to Shin.”

“There’s a lot I need to explain, and I can’t do it with you making accusations,” Vincent said quietly.

“Accusations?” Haje scoffed, anger rolling off him like rushing water. “My twin brother died while you were supposed to be guarding him. Saving me doesn’t change the fact that you failed your job.”

“Haje,” Seol gasped.

Haje turned and limped out of Shin’s bedroom. Seol stared after her son, shaking slightly. When she turned to look at Vincent, she looked lost.

“I’m sorry,” Seol said. “He’s having a hard time…dealing with…all this.”

“There’s no need to explain.” Vincent gave her a small smile of assurance. Anger was better than crippling fear, he decided. Haje wouldn’t have time to think about the assassin suffocating him for a couple of hours. “Please have a seat, Mrs. Young.”

Seol looked at Shin’s rumpled bed, then the broken window, and shuddered. “Did someone just try to kill Haje?”

“Yes,” Vincent answered with a wince.

She swayed on her feet, and he moved fast in case she actually fainted. Taking her arm, he led her to the armchair then took a step back to give her breathing room.

“Mr. Chandler,” Seol said in a quiet tone after a few minutes. “Two months ago, you walked into this house with my Shin. He wouldn’t tell me what was going on to warrant your services. I remember you telling me not to worry. That he was safe and you would protect him. Am I correct?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he answered with a pang. Somewhere between that promise and a deadly accident, he’d missed a clue. Shin had paid for his carelessness.

“A week ago, you came to my door to tell me my son was dead and that his twin was in the hospital.” Seol glanced at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Are you going to tell me not to worry this time, too?”

Vincent looked down, unable to hold her gaze. He’d learned never to make promises, but this case was taking a toll on all his principles. Shin’s death should never have happened. He’d known better than to let them go out that night. He sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, ma'am. I can’t tell you not to worry,” he said sincerely.

Seol nodded and stared at her palms for a moment. “Thank you for an honest answer. I assume calling the police is not going to help tonight.”

Vincent looked at the broken window. “Strassen security will handle the investigation.”

“Is there going to be another attempt on Haje’s life?”

“Most likely,” he said quietly. There was no need to lie. These bastards were getting bold, actually breaking into the house to get Haje. He needed all the help he could get. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

“I’m not going to ask how you knew Haje was in danger. Thank you for saving him.” Seol rubbed her temple and stood. “If your job is to guard him, I’ll ask you stick to him like glue. I can’t lose another son, Mr. Chandler.”

“You won’t,” he vowed.

Seol held his gaze, and he wondered if she saw his guilt. He owed this woman a debt of life. She looked away a moment later, and he breathed in relief that she couldn’t see the guilt in his face.

“I’ll deal with the repairs,” he said when her gaze strayed to the broken glass. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to move in until we sort this out.”

Seol nodded and left the bedroom. He waited until she entered Haje’s room before he reached for his cell phone.

“We’ve got a problem, boss,” he said when Jaxton Donovan answered his call. “They’re after Haje Young. I just scared off an assassin.”

“We expected it would happen, just not this soon,” Jaxton said with a sigh. “I was about to call you. Henry Knight was found dead a few minutes ago. Shot in the bathroom at his home on Ring Road.”

“Shit,” Vincent paced the length of Shin’s bed. “That makes three, Shin Young, Virgil Troy and Henry Knight.”

“I sent a security team after the fourth team leader: Tom Purcell, Haje’s boss. Keep Haje safe, Vincent. Handcuff him to your wrist if you have to,” Jaxton ordered.

“What about the message Shin left?” Vincent asked.

“Get close to Haje, he’ll probably lead you to it,” Jaxton said. “I’ll pull your surveillance feed and see if we can ID your intruder. I’ll call if there’s any news.”

Jaxton hung up, and Vincent frowned at the thought of getting close to Haje. His charge was angry, grief-stricken and hurting.

Stormy seas ahead, he thought with a sigh.

****

Vincent and the crew repairing the broken windows finished at 1:00 a.m. He locked the front doors, securing the first floor before he set the alarm. Taking the overnight bag he’d brought in earlier, he went upstairs. Seol was in her room sleeping. She had gone to her bedroom an hour ago after a heated fight with Haje. He peeped in to make sure she was fine. Closing her door silently, he headed for Shin's room.

In Shin's room, he made sure to lock the windows. Clean up had taken longer than he expected, but the room was back to normal. He wondered if Haje would be able to return to it after tonight. Closing Shin’s bedroom, he walked the few steps to Haje’s room. Getting to know Haje meant spending as much time as he could with the man. It was a good thing he was now Haje’s bodyguard, but guarding him was probably not going to go over too well, he mused. Knocking on the door quietly, he waited for an answer.

When none came, he opened the door anyway and paused at the entrance in surprise. Every light possible was on in the large spacious room — from the muted lamps by the red comfortable couches that made a small sitting area to the overhead lights hidden under delicate glass shades. The lights highlighted a burgundy Turkish carpet that covered the floor next to the four-poster bed; matching drapes were tied to the posts. The wide windows on the right would look over the backyard garden during daylight. A sturdy desk laden with computer screens stood in the corner. Where Shin had created gadgets from scratch, Haje loved programming. There was no sign of Haje in the bed.

Not sleeping again, Vincent thought, looking around the bright room.

He heard running water and headed to the bathroom door on his left. He knocked and entered without waiting for an answer.

Haje was naked, seated on a towel-covered toilet lid undoing the bandage on his right thigh with one hand. His right leg was propped on a stool so that he could have easy access. The cast on Haje’s left arm ran from his upper arm, past his elbow to his fingers. Haje shifted, and Vincent got an eyeful of bruised ribs, black-and-blue marks in terrible contrast to his soft golden skin. That assassin must have hurt him badly by sitting on his chest.

“Seen enough?” Haje asked.

Vincent tore his gaze away from Haje’s chest and met dark-brown orbs. There were dark shadows under Haje’s eyes.

He needed sleep, Vincent thought with a frown.

“I can help with the bandage.” The running water he’d heard was coming from the sink. He walked over to close the tap, watching Haje clumsily remove the bandage on his leg.

“I don’t need your help,” Haje said.

It was a painful process to watch. Vincent scowled in frustration.

“It will go much faster if you let me do it. You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

“I’m not a fragile flower,” Haje replied. “What are you still doing here?”

“Looking after you,” Vincent said with irritation.

He got closer, lifted Haje's ankle gently, and sat on the stool. Reaching for a towel on the shelf behind him, he put it over his lap and set Haje's ankle on his knee. He pushed Haje’s hand away from the bandage and took over.

With a glare, Haje took the towel he’d used to dry himself and held it over his groin.

Vincent smiled. “I can see why you won’t let your mother help you.”

“When was the last time your mother helped you bathe?” Haje asked with a sneer.

Vincent laughed lightly and rolled the bandage off quickly.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Haje said gruffly.

Vincent dumped the used bandage into the small trash bin Haje had on the floor beside the toilet.

“I don’t see any babies around.” He lifted his brow when Haje rolled his eyes. “Do you?”

Haje started to reply, but the soiled pad on his wound caught on a scab, and he hissed.

“Be careful, will you?” Haje said irritably.

“I’m sorry.” Vincent apologized, staring at the angry red skin. The wound was healing, but it was going to take a while. He dumped the soiled pad into the trash and stood, careful with Haje's leg. He washed his hands in the sink and reached for the carton of gloves on the sink counter. “Do you do this every night?”

“I have to,” Haje said with a grimace, staring at the wound. “I get Mom to help after I’ve taken a bath but tonight,” he shook his head, “I didn't want to bother her. We had an argument because I blame you for Shin’s accident.”

“That’s why she was so upset when she left your room.” Vincent finished putting on gloves.

Haje shrugged, unapologetically. Vincent noted that Haje had used 'blame' and not 'blamed'. As far as Haje was concerned, Vincent caused his brother's death. He swallowed the pain of the accusation and decided to concentrate on the bandage.

Haje had placed the supplies he needed for the new dressing on a towel on the floor. Vincent sat on the stool and got to work, reaching for the antiseptic cleanser and a soft cotton pad.

****

Haje winced even though Vincent was very gentle as he cleaned his wound. Haje’s reaction was reflexive; he’d gone through so much pain lately that his body felt like a throbbing mass. He stared at strong fingers applying medicine to his wound and then covering it with a clean bandage. Each motion measured and capable, gentle, Haje noted with surprise.

He stared at the blond-haired head bent over his thigh with mixed feelings. This mysterious man had saved his life a couple of hours ago. He was trying not to think about lying on Shin’s bed fighting for air. If this man hadn’t walked in, he’d be dead.

“You said you were Shin’s bodyguard?” he asked quietly.

“I was,” Vincent answered.

Haje swallowed hard and stared at the cast on his left arm. “Did he ever tell you why he didn’t tell me about needing a bodyguard?”

Vincent paused in the act of rolling a fresh bandage around his leg. Cool blue eyes met his. “He was protecting you.”

“Protect—,” Haje broke off and shook his head. Vincent continued putting the bandage on him. “Were you assigned to him because of his project?” Haje bit his inner lip.

Vincent glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “What do you know about that?”

“Nothing,” Haje said with a shrug. “He never told me anything about it. Which was strange. It was the first time he didn’t want to share what he was researching.”

Vincent finished putting on the bandage, taping it carefully. “There you go; that should do it for now. If you want, I can help you until it heals.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Haje demanded, suspicious of the generous help. He still didn’t trust this man. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

Vincent removed his gloves and dumped them into the trash.

“A reliable tip,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Reliable tip,” Haje narrowed his gaze at Vincent. “What does that mean?”

“You have a terrible habit of repeating what I say,” Vincent said, changing the subject. “It’s really annoying.”

“I don’t care what irritates you. Someone just tried to kill me, and you showed up in time to play hero. I don’t know what you told my mother to make her trust you. However, the fact is that Shin is dead when you were supposedly guarding him. That makes me suspicious.”

Vincent sighed and stood. “Good for you. Suspicion is healthy. You need to get dressed.”

Haje scowled and stood up too fast. The pins and needles attacked his legs from sitting too long; he groaned and swayed slightly, dropping the towel.

Vincent moved fast and slipped an arm around his waist. With cool, strong fingers against his skin, Haje closed his eyes at the rush of heat running through him. He couldn’t believe he was getting aroused at a moment like this. The pins and needles were killing him, and his leg felt numb; shaking his head, he gave up on dignity.

Vincent helped him dress in an old, college t-shirt, sweats and heavy socks. He helped him into bed, and once he was comfortable against the pillows, Vincent pulled the covers over him.

Staring at the top of his bed, Haje let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t quite imagine closing his eyes ever again.

Vincent turned to leave, but Haje reached out to grab his arm.

“Do you need anything else?” Vincent asked him with a raised brow.

Haje stared at the taller man. How could he ask without seeming weak? He bit his lip and let go of Vincent’s arm.

“I—

Vincent studied him for a moment. “I need to get my bag from the hallway. I'll take a shower, and then I'll crash on one of those couches.”

He pointed to the red couches set close to the windows.

“I hope that's alright with you.”

Haje nodded, holding back his sigh of relief.

****