My Seoul

By Kasssanna

No good deed goes unpunished...
Waheeda Lexington, made a wrong turn and found herself lost in the city of Seoul, Korea. Compelled to help a woman being attacked she now has become the target for a serial killer. With nowhere to go she must depend on a detective to protect her.
A promise kept.
So Tae Ho, Seargent of Team Two's Violent Crime Unit, is tasked with keeping a witness safe. The only person to ever see the face of the serial killer plaguing the city. His plan is to hide her in plain sight as his wife.
What could go wrong? Nothing, until you mix family with a killer and sprinkle in work complications...
They have seven days.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kasssanna
• Release date: Dec 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463955789

Kasssanna

Kassanna is a strong believer in love at first sight and happily ever afters. After meeting her husband in November and marrying him three months later in February the two have survived and mostly enjoyed every adventure life has thrown their way. Ten years, two children, a couple of dogs and a wild turkey that came out the woods and somehow adopted them - later- the adventure continues.Writing has always been her passion but fate sometimes has other roads that must first be taken . Navigating the road less traveled was not only unexpected but in the end extremely rewarding. Her books are mainly contemporary romance but she has delved into the paranormal and plans on expanding into other areas as the ideas come to her. Right now she is enjoying life and seeing her work come into fruition make it that much more pleasurable especially when her books make others smile. Kassanna wouldn't have it any other way.

Book preview

My Seoul

BY

Kassanna

*****

Copyright © Dec 2018, Kassanna

Cover art by C.V.A Dwight Copyright © July 2018

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

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Prologue

Bright neon signs she’d spied earlier were replaced by elongated shadows. The scent of impending rain competed with the ripe aroma of garbage piled up on a corner, some of it overflowing from recycling bins. Waheeda Lexington spun around in a circle. Somewhere she’d taken a wrong turn and was now in a residential area. On this empty lane, there was no one to ask for directions. She peered up. Beyond the glare of the streetlights, the stars were nonexistent. Darker outlines of high rises with randomly lit windows disappeared into the skyline.

The eerie sounds of a dog’s yelps resounded off the high brick walls. This isn’t good. She hiked her bookbag higher on her shoulder and trudged ahead. Streets and alleyways formed mazes that became almost unnavigable after nightfall.

A flight of steps led to another area. Up was good, right? A shiver of awareness slithered down her spine, as if someone was watching her. Waheeda glanced over her shoulder and waited. A cat sprinted from one spot to another. She jerked in surprise and laughed out loud. Idiot. She quickened her pace, jogging up the steep stairs. Spotty circles of light from the streetlamps illuminated her path. Waheeda looked up; a few of the bulbs were busted. The sooner she found a main street, the better. She bounded up on the landing as lightning blazed across the sky, brightening it. Just in front of her, someone was on their hands and knees.

The person crawled toward her. Help me. An utterance in a language not her own, barely heard above the din of thunder that rocked the ground.

She spoke some Hangul and recognized the basic words. Waheeda leaned forward. A woman? In the brief flash, she couldn’t be sure. The skies opened up and a deluge of water rained down in sheets, plastering her hair to her head, soaking her clothes and hindering her vision. She hesitated mid-step and patted her pockets for her cell phone. She tried to take in her surroundings. As a paramedic turned emergency room nurse, it was important to maintain a level head. The storm seemed to have drained the color from the environment and everything washed out into shades of grey. It was impossible to convey reliable information. Waheeda continued without realizing it, her professional instincts kicking in.

She crouched, pushing back the person’s wet strands to peer at their features. Where are you hurt? Waheeda yelled over the wind and clatter of rain.

The woman’s face had started to swell. One eye was already swollen shut. Unable to make out minute details in the dark, Waheeda skimmed her palms up and down the lady’s arms. She raised the victim’s hands close to her face. Some of her nails had been torn from their beds, broken down to the quick. Good Lord.

She released the woman’s wrists and lifted the phone higher. Her fingers slipped across the screen. I’m calling for help. Waheeda caught herself speaking English and repeated the words in Korean.

The woman looked up at her, eyes wide, and shook her head vehemently. She twisted to the side and scooted back. Her face filled with fear as she quickly disappeared into the darkness.

Wait, Waheeda called out, cocking her head.

A blur of white crossed her eyesight and a coarse weight fell around the base of her throat. In an instant, it tightened around her neck. She dropped her cell and grasped the cord that was cutting off her breath. Her screams burst from her mouth as squeaks. She pushed back trying to knock her assailant off balance. The soles of her tennis shoe-clad feet slid over the wet stone. She rammed her elbows into the air around her.

Help me! she yelled in her first language. Waheeda dropped her head back, catching her fingers between the rope and her throat.

Her knuckles rammed into the soft spot under her jaw as she grasped the rope. Fat drops of rain flowed between her lips. She tumbled over on her side taking her attacker with her. Pain pierced her where her head banged the rock, and she bit the inside of her cheek. The metallic taste of blood flowed over her tongue. Waheeda kicked out her feet and wriggled, writhing against the body just beneath her. The bottom edge of her bag rubbed against the small of her back. She was caught between her accoster’s legs. Pleasurable grunts filled her ears. This motherfucker was enjoying it.

Suddenly, the assault stopped, and the rope loosened. Waheeda scrambled up, rolling over and rising to her knees. She shoved her fingers between the crevices of the cobblestone, slicing her fingertips on the rough edges. Coming to her feet, she leapt forward, slipping and sliding in the small puddles that surrounded them. She twisted around searching for a way out. No matter where she turned the darkness greeted her. Even the person she thought she was helping was gone. A bout of coughing wracked her body. She bent, clutching her knees. Waheeda kept her head up, watching every movement her attacker made. Only the asshole stayed still.

Rivulets of water rolled down the heavy raincoat of the stranger that faced her. Light colored rope dangled from their hands. Her only option was to go the way she came and to do that meant getting past the person in her way. The skin around her neck burned, but she refused to touch the wound. She wouldn’t show weakness when facing a predator. Slanted drops continued to slam into her body. The thin shirt she wore clung to her chest. She shrugged free of the straps and hefted her bag up, hurling it in the direction of her attacker.

Waheeda lunged to the side. Help, she wailed. It came out as a whisper. Help, she called, louder.

The ruse failed. She backpedaled to stay out of reach. Her actions were mimicked. She swallowed and wiped a palm down her face, darting her gaze from one side of the steps to the other. Seoul was a bustling city, like most, that never rested. Someone would walk by on the way home eventually. She had to buy herself some time. Waheeda screamed again, forming fists at her sides.

Her aggressor lunged for her, closing the gap between them in seconds. She swung, her fist missing the target. The hood slipped down and she stared into cold, soulless eyes. He wrapped both big palms around her throat, stretching her neck and hefting her up by her head. Her toes scraped the cobblestone. She kicked at his legs and curled her hands around his head, pressing her thumbs against his eyes. It was impossible to suck in a breath. He shook his head, loosening her grip

She should have kept her ass in Atlanta. See the world, her grandma had encouraged her. That led to an application for a job in another country. The place where she would die. Funny the shit you think of when death is imminent.

Darkness encroached on her vision. She blinked fast to clear her sight, taking in all of his features, the square jaw and wide forehead. If she lived she would be able to identify him. Her eyelids drifted shut as it took longer to suck small gasps of air past her lips. She couldn’t maintain her grasp. Her hands fell away. What was the point? She wouldn’t get away. A sinister smile curled the corners of his thin lips.

Bastard. The words fell from her lips on an exhale. The rain became a steady drizzle.

Another man sprinted across the top of the steps and ran for them. Fuck, another one. She dropped her head. Her only regret was climbing up the damn stairs. Well, that and coming to Seoul. Suddenly, Waheeda was released and crumpled down on to the cobblestone. She couldn’t swallow, and an ache pounded through her temple. Her chest burned with every breath she took. She cocked her head to the side to see.

The first man fought with the second, trading blows in a blur of punches. The newcomer spun in a roundhouse kick, sending the other guy stumbling backwards clutching his chest. She scooted back, staying flush to the wall, trying to disappear into the shadows.

Someone whimpered. Waheeda twisted; thousands of stinging hurts speared the base of her neck and between her shoulder blades. She met the scared gaze of the woman she’d stopped to help. Realization dawned on Waheeda. This person was bait she was meant to find. The woman was actually a young girl. No, that didn’t make sense; no one could have predicted her making a wrong turn.

The other victim muttered words so quickly it was like gibberish. She yanked at Waheeda’s clothes, burrowing into her side.

It’s okay, Waheeda uttered in English. The soothing tone of her voice was more important than what was said. She shuffled around and embraced the teenager in a hug.

Sounds erupted behind her. Clatters of metal and hollow thuds were followed by grumbles. The person she held jerked with every noise that split the air.

Shhh. Waheeda rubbed the girl’s back.

Stomping turned into fading footfalls. Waheeda shifted and lifted her head to see. She leaned on the wall and inched up. The girl wouldn’t release her clothing and kept tugging on her shirt.

Her collar ripped. Run when I yell. Waheeda