Chapter 19

Jinhee POV

Jungkook shifted his body so that he was facing Omma and Appa.

He was telling them a joke.

I rolled my eyes so hard until I thought I'd caught a glimpse of my own brain.

His jokes are so lame that even I could come up with better ones.

Appa roared with laughter when he told them about something that happened between him and his hyungs.

I stared at them, wondering how he could be such a joyful person even though he lost his Dad to a murderer who was most likely still out there.

A wave of gratitude come over me when I thought about how lucky I was to still have both my parents.

It wasn't long before dinner time came and Jungkook had to leave.

He was worried about leaving his mother alone for so long, which I completely understood, so I made Appa and Omma bid farewell since they were so attached to him and kept asking if he wanted to stay for dinner.

I closed the front door, turned around and found my ridiculous parents smirking at me suggestively.

I sighed and said, "I know what you're thinking but no way is he gonna be my boyfriend."

"Why not?" Appa questioned, "he's a polite and kind young man, and he seems to like you a lot."

Omma was just standing at the side, nodded her head violently to show how much she liked this particular boy.

I groaned and, thinking that I'd had enough drama for a day already, I headed up to bed.

I opened the door to my room, admiring my soft beige-coloured walls and dark blue carpet(I had the previous one changed), sighing, "It's great to be home."

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Jungkook POV

I froze when I reached the door.

It was opened and everything was dark when I crept inside cautiously.

Omma's favourite vase was toppled over onto the floor, which was strewn with books and papers.

My house was in a total wreck, and I was up to my ears in panic.

I stayed calm and inched my way upstairs, where I could hear laboured pants of exhaustion.

There was only one thought on my mind: She's back.

I whipped around the corner and stepped lightly into Omma's room, checking for intruders before rushing to a very still form lying on the floor.

I stared in horror at Omma's pale face, panic-stricken with terror.

"Omma..."

I trailed off after seeing her usually cheerful face so frightened.

"S...son...behind y...you..." she choked out breathlessly, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

My senses on high alert, I dragged Omma's limp body with me and dove to the side just as a knife whistled past my ear.

I flung out my foot and gave a swift kick to the attacker.

I heard a muffled cry of pain and a thump and I assumed that I'd hit a good spot.

I laid Omma gently down at the side of the room and turned back to face my foe.

A thin, wiry man with arms the thickness of noodles crouched on the floor, so I stayed where I was and waited.

Suddenly, he lunged towards me with a gleaming knife aiming for my throat.

I easily sidestepped him and grabbed the back of his dark blue hoodie, yanking him back with as much force as I could.

He slammed into the opposite wall and cursed, rubbing his hip in pain.

He judged me with menacing eyes, calculating how much time it would take for him to sprint out the door and escape.

It would take him 7 seconds, but I didn't let him start.

I took two huge strides and had his arms pinned to his sides in seconds, facing the wall and the knife clattering onto the ground.

I kicked it away and whispered threateningly, "Who are you? You'd better answer me, otherwise you won't live to see another day."

I felt him trembling under my hold, trying hard not to show fear, but I punched him in the face with all the strength in my arm and he rasped out, "The Tiger! The Flying Tiger!..."

After that I didn't understand what he was saying, it sounds like he's Chinese.

I snapped at him to shut him up and dragged him to a wooden chair sitting in the corner, tying him up securely with a long, thick piece of wire, making sure it cut into his skin until it made him howl with pain.

I gathered Omma up into my arms, shutting and locking the door behind me, so that the man wouldn't escape.

I carried Omma to my room and laid her down on my warm bed.

Her eyes were closed, she probably fell unconscious during the fight.

I checked her for any injuries and I found a gaping wound at the side of her waist.

With my heart in my throat, I called an ambulance and the police, and demanded that they come here immediately.

Then I hung up and dialed Jinhee and the guys, "Omma's been attacked, she's hurt really badly and I need your help."

I pressed two fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse.

It was there, but weak.

I whispered, heartbroken at the sight of my precious mother, "You'll be okay Omma, my hyungs and Jinhee are on their way now, and so is the ambulance, they'll fix you up in no time."

Even as I said it, tears of guilt and fear welled up in my eyes, trickling down my red cheeks.

I had failed to protect the only family member I had left.

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Jinhee POV

I got the shock of my life when I received a call from Jungkook about an hour after he left my house.

I felt guilt surge through my veins when I heard the horrible news.

It was as if the whole world stopped for a second, where I was regretting my decision to take Jungkook out for ice cream in the first place.

If only I hadn't taken him to meet Omma and Appa, then he would have been home to protect his mother.

While I was at home, enjoying life with my parents, Jungkook was at his house, fighting off intruders who wanted to harm his only family.

I slapped the base of my palm against my forehead and muttered, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

I was currently standing next to Jungkook outside the operation room, comforting him using soft encouraging words, all the while knowing that it was my fault that his mother was attacked.

Jimin sat on his other side, trying to soothe the agitated maknae, who was growing more worried by the second.

"Please, please, please, let Omma be okay. Please!" he said with tears rolling down his cheeks.

I felt my heart crack seeing his vulnerability, hearing the anxiety in his voice, feeling the same panic as him.

He already lost his father, please, not his mother.

I prayed with all my might that Mrs Jeon would be alright.

Then, the doors to the operation room opened and the surgeon strode towards us with an air of dignified grace.

"Jeon Jungkook?" he asked politely.

Jungkook stood up, towering over the small-sized man, "I'm here."

"Your mother lost a lot of blood because the wound was deep. As we've just ran out of our A blood supply, we need one of your family members to check if you have the same blood type, otherwise, your mother might not make it."

"No...no...no!"

Jungkook was almost tearing his hair out in frustration.

"I'm not a blood type A..."

"Well...are there any other family members here that share the same blood type as your mother?"

"I'm her only family member..." he was close to sobbing now.

His nose and his eyes were red, and he was sniffling a lot.

In a flash, I remembered that I had blood type A.

I stepped forward, "I can help."

Everyone's heads snapped towards me, mouth agape.

"Really?" was Jungkook's answer.

I nodded, "I'll do it."

"A...Are you sure?" his eyes shone with hope and relief.

I nodded again.

I didn't want to see his teary face again, it hurt me so much, and I don't even know why.

If I could exchange some of my blood for his awesome mom to keep him happy, I would.

I followed the surgeon to a different room, it was white all around execpt for the blood testing machine. It was metallic grey.

"Just to make sure you are the correct blood type." the doctor smiled kindly at me.

I closed my eyes when he injected the needle into my arm, wincing a little when he pulled it out. A few minutes later, he came back with an answer. I waited with bated breaths.

"You're all clear."