Page 1 of Save Me

CHAPTER 1

Seoul, South Korea

Dae

I planned to die today anyway.

What the fuck does it matter if it’s by my doing or at the hands of the bastards my father sent to kill me?

“You should’ve never shown your fucking face around here!” the ringleader of the group, my father’s future son-in-law, says before pain sears across the right side of my face.

The hit to my jaw is quickly followed by a kick to my stomach that steals the breath from my lungs. My brain yells for me to fight back. There’re only three of them. I could hurt at least one or two of them.

Yet, with each punch, kick, or stomp I receive, my will dies a little more. Not that I had much of it in the first place. After all, I did show up at my father’s office building to kill myself.

I don’t bother curling into a ball to protect my face or ribs. The physical pain is almost unbearable, but it’ll all be over soon enough.

“Motherfucker!” someone yells. “We’re going to kill you.”

Yeah, I know. Just fucking get it over with.

I’m ready for my fate. It’s not like anyone alive will miss me. In a matter of time, it’ll all be over with. At eighteen, I’ve reached the end of my existence.

Good fucking riddance.

“What are you doing?” a female voice shrieks. I barely hear it through the ringing in my ears. “Leave him alone!”

The garbled voice sounds far away. Like I’m listening from underwater. It takes seconds, maybe minutes, for me to realize that the beating has stopped. Every part of my body aches in agony, but they aren’t hitting me anymore.

I peel my swollen eyes open.

A blurred lavender shape that vaguely resembles that of a girl stands in the distance. Light shines all around her, outlining her figure. Her brown curls whip around her shoulders.

Though it hurts like hell, my bruised, bloody lips form a smile. Or maybe a grimace.

This must be it.

This must be the angel coming to take me to the afterlife.

But then the angel yells, “Leave him alone!”

I squeeze my eyes and then open them again. No. I’m still on Earth, in this godforsaken alleyway.

“Get out of here!” one of them calls out.

“Fuck you!” another yells in heavily accented English, which is made worse by the mask he’s wearing.

They’re all wearing masks. But I’ve heard those taunting voices for the past three years.

“Leave him alone or I’ll call the police,” my angel says as she approaches.

Despite the pain in my ribs and head, my vision blurred by blood and sweat, I focus on her face. Her cinnamon eyes are narrowed, and her light brown face is stained red from anger. She’s alone, but it doesn’t stop her from confronting three masked dudes.

One of them approaches, and she quickly pulls something out of her bag, pointing it at him.

Pepper spray.

When the bastard gets within a few feet, she makes him pay with a direct shot to the face. He doubles over in pain.

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