Rivalry above love-- a dark sketch of mafia life by Bluesky Idea (books to read in your 30s txt) 📖

her head off but a certain somebody's voice saying " RECKlESS" boomed in her head again and again.

 

They were both staring daggers at each other. 

Blue stabbing Green, Green stabbing blue.

 

That was enough.

 

"Even a pig can subdue a wounded lion." spat the woman.

 

He watched her face for a moment and smiled. Ofcourse it wasn't true. He had been able to break her so calmly, she remembered.

 

Come to think of it, it wasn't he who broke her. It was Calliah herself. The memories, the pain, the grief were what actually broke her.

 

"We are our worst enemies, Calliah. We are able to do malicious things to ourselves." He spoke.

 

"Calliah, No matter how much you train yourself as a combatant physically, unless you can fight your own demons, you are not ready."

 

She coughed her lungs out some more and doubled up panting.

 

"I had a vision I would see you pant in my grasp in no time, this is not what I had in mind-- " He stopped to smirk. "--- did you?"

 

"You are just fucking sad, I didn't let you fuck me, like- like a sad pathetic kid whose candy just got stolen."

 

She had absolutely zero idea what she was speaking in her rage. she just needed to make him angry, just like she was.

 

"But the kid here can always get his candy back." He grazed his fingers down her cheekbones and she trembled at the disgusting touch. Her head spinned madly around her and she lost her balance.

 

He grabbed her arm tight and spoke very slowly.

"Keep pissing him off like this, and he will eat that candy even if he has to rape it away from it's owner." More emphasis on the word rape.

 

She wanted to punch that face of his but the world around her went numb as a silent voice of her trainer spoke in her head,

 

" Some of the greatest battle shall be fought within the silent chambers of your own soul."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No grudges

  Calliah Theodore opened her eyes, lightheaded, red marks spread across her neck prominently. She tried to clear her throat. They wear as dry as the leaves in the woods.

 

"Oh my god." She spoke and her ears met a hoarse voice barely audible.

 

When she looked outside the RV window, her captor was making fire, gathering dry leaves and logs. She stood on her feet and went to kitchen. The sight of water elevated her heart and she gulped down the whole jug. She could hear a burning sounds of logs outside. There was a small locked room ahead of kitchen. When she peeped through the keyhole, darkness met her eyes. She brought herself back at kitchen and served herself some apple and oranges. His fridge was loaded. The RV looked well inhabited and she had a feeling he stayed here more often than not.

 

Maybe he likes it here.

 

She would do the same. This place was majestic.

 

But the idea of having anything in common with this man irked her.

 

He almost nearly killed her when she refused sex.

 

After teasing her that is.

 

But no matter what, all she felt for this man right now was digustion and hatred.

 

Maybe it was innate.

 

She just sat in her bed, looking out at the moon--which was crescent-- smiling. She loved it-- the sky. Moon and Stars-- her very first friends and the most loyal ones.

 

They were there before you were and will be there when you won't. Her mother's voice soothed her heart.

 

They would never turn on her, even if everyone did, never betray her, never leave her alone. They would just be there shining shimmering filling hopes inside the hopelesses.

 

A drop of tear trickled down her cheek as she remembered the dreadful nights spent in the corner of her room staring at the night sky.

 

Too innocent to understand what was going on.

 

Too inhibited to talk about it with anyone.

 

Too naive to believe nobody knew what the monster did to her inside four walls.

 

The night sky and the memory of her mother being her only solace.

 

Now, she saw him lying on his back next to the fire which was burning rapidly. He was looking up, lost in his world.

 

Probably planning about the next deal with some Russian mob.

 

She felt the need to go out and talk. It was strange but her pain, her sufferings did that to her.

 

Made her feel nothing matters.

 

So what if he was a devil? Devil was not a new concept to her. She met devils for breakfast every morning. Hell, she even slept with them.

 

Everyone has a devil inside. The ones much well hidden are the ones to be much afraid of.

 

Still in her towel, she made her way out of the RV.

 

As soon as he realized she was coming towards her, he was poised, though still on his back.

 

"Beautiful, aren't they?" She smiled, ignored her choked voice and sat herself across him. Her body instantly felt the warmth from the flames and her nose met the sharp smell of alcohol.

 

She sighed.

 

When she looked across the fire, her captor held an unbelievable expression on his face.

 

There were too many little dots visible from this angle. Bright canvas decorated with shiny pearls, flames burning peacefully beside her. She laid her back on the ground basking in the serenity.

 

It was a dream she never thought she would live.

 

So far from home.

 

So far from the place she called home.

 

It is still home, Calliah. She cleared her head.

 

The forest at a distance gloomed in eerie silence. Even though they were not visible in the dark, the mere thought of the brooding wilderness few yards away brought goosebumps to her body. Somehow it brought her relief too.

 

Her gaze fell back to the silent man who was gazing at the night sky.

"Planning something?" Planning murder?

 

"What are you doing, try-nna be funny, cute.  Think that'll melt my heart and I'll let you go?"

 

Calliah could imagine the very words in the wicked voice of his but maybe it was alcohol, his voice sounded small and tired.

 

This was the most he had talked to her so far. She decided to press on.

 

"Well, I'm just trying to talk. Haven't done that in days." She let out a chuckle which died in the cool night air.

 

"I almost killed you and you're here to talk." He scoffed still looking up.

 

"It's a good thing I don't hold grudges then."

 

This caught his attention enough to turn his head and look at her but Calliah's gaze was adjusted on the question mark shaped constellation up in sky.

 

"You're smart. Tell me if you have a knife hidden inside that towel."

 

Calliah was tired of him thinking she would try anything like that. How could she prove to him she wanted to go through with his plan?

 

"Listen." she croaked turning towards him. Now they were facing each other laying through the fire ." I won't do anything like that. I really want to get this thing over with. I want to catch him and I want to get out of here. For that, no matter how much I dislike you and your guts, I have to talk to you and I will." He turned straight again and continued his sky gazing. She did the same. "And I wouldn't land myself here if I was smart."

 

He let out a laughter.

 

Calliah's eyes widened as she heard it.

 

He laughs.

 

"I'll give you that." He said. " You were pretty stupid there."

 

"It was unfair. You used a gun to knock me out when you said you wouldn't."

 

"And you believed me." He sat himself  up enough to rest his left elbow on the ground.

 

"Tell you something." His liquor intoxicated pupils dilated and his deep voice followed.

"Underworld is not played fair."

 

For some reason, her lips curved up in a small smile.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

The morning dawned as it always does and so it did in the cabin. A fresh ray of sunshine bounced in the greenaries. A man in his loose fitting trousers is seen fighting a tree. He slams his fists on the trunk, his gaze at a specific spot on the bark as if that's his enemy right there. He slams his left fist and then right, his feet moving along in the rhythm. Sweats trickling down his broad chest, he lands punches on his imaginary enemy; his pace increases when he feels his punches futile on the trunk. Branches of veins stiffly visible on his arms, he keeps punching. Finally, the bark comes off.

 

A few yards away, little deeper into the woods, there's a woman, partly naked. A man's loose shirt dangling off her slender body. She is doing the same; only not literally slamming her fists on the tree.

 

She is sparring.

 

She moves around the beech tree as she pretends to land punches, so fast it could give a tough competition to the man few yards away. She even uses her knee as she practices many moves. Her feet goes above her head--nearly 180 degrees-- practicing her kicks. 

 

"1,2,3,4,5...She keeps counts. Her flexible legs perform front kick, back kick, push kick, roundhouse kick. She seems happy, complete.

 

as if a missing puzzle has been attached to her again.

 

Calliah takes off the sweaty shirt. It was time for shower. Her heart leaped with joy at the thought of shower--shower at its best. The stress, aching would all go away.

 

Just as she turned around, her eyes widened. Her so conveniently shirtless captor was leaning against a tree gawking at her. She followed her first instinct that was to grab the wet shirt and wrapped it around her hurriedly.

 

"Actually, I am here to take my shirt back." he smiled. Calliah clutched the front of shirt as if he was going to snatch it away.

 

"Then, give me my clothes back."

 

He gestured towards her breasts.

"And miss that sight, No."

 

Calliah almost blushed, almost.

 

"Then I'm not giving it."

 

He smiled and proceeded towards her.

 

"You see, that's where you are wrong. You think you have a choice."

 

Stubbles.Stubbles. Chest.. Abs. Don't look. Tried to kill you.

 

He pulled away her hands that were tugging on the shirt and his hands went up to undo the buttons. Calliah gulped at the sight of his chiseled chest and tattoos. His aroma drove her senses weak.

"Do you think you have a choice?" His stubbles grazed on her ear, she could sense him smiling and the hair on the back of her neck bristled sending down chills all over her body.

 

"No." The word came out as a subtle moan and she hoped he didn't notice it. He did.

 

"I could make you moan better than that."

 

Wetness gushed out of her at those words and she squirmed, leaning her  back on the beech tree.

 

He unbuttoned the shirt one by one not breaking his gaze into her eyes. She did the same. After unbuttoning, his eyes went down to linger on her breats which were heaving in invitation, nipples peering through the hole in her bra. 

 

His cold fingers took off the shirt and she let him willingly. He licked his lips and Calliah couldn't take it anymore. She was drenched to the core.

 

She wanted him inside now. She wanted him to fuck her senseless.

 

He held the sweaty shirt for a while then threw it away.

 

"So wet." He rasped.

 

"Please." She whispered breathing heavily. She felt she could orgasm right there. The crave, the passion that his eyes were filling her with, she could do it right there.

 

"Please what, feisty?"

 

"Please go." Ofcourse that's not