Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

7

“One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.” - Rita Mae Brown

“Breathe in. Pause. Feel your heartbeat. Slow it, control it. Now squeeze the trigger.” I stare down the scope, focusing in on the metal target shaped like a person. I apply pressure on the trigger and the rifle explodes. I watch as it hits the target right on the centre of the head. I look up at James who is standing over me, looking through his binoculars at the target two hundred yards away. He glances down at to me, his expression unreadable.

“Good.” One word. He moves down the line checking on Sasha to my right.

“Good?” Alex laughs from my left. I glanced at him and shrug. Guns I can do. I like the control, the precision. It’s not about strength or bodyweight. There’s something about the distance of it as well that I find appealing. I’m not squeamish, though I admit that I’m scared of having to kill someone with a knife or something. It seems so brutal and unnecessary. Guns are clean, methodical, distanced. I fire a few more shots and then James taps my shoulder.

“Go work the bag.” He says and I almost groan. I hate the bag. Instead though I get up and do as he says, working at pounding the bag for the rest of the morning.

I grunt when my back hits the mat and Sunny lands on top of me. His legs straddle my body and his fists pound against my forearms as I block him from connecting with my face. He laughs manically and it pisses me off but I refuse to break my guard. He’ll falter soon. He’s arrogant and he assumes I’m weak. He pauses between punches and his left shoulder drops slightly. He’s tiring. I break and strike out, taking one in the jaw from his right hook, but punching him in the throat at the same time. He chokes and his eyes go wide. His weight shifts backwards slightly and I punch him in his junk. I hear the collective groan of pain from every guy in the room right along with Sunny. It’s like he’s been shot with a stun gun. His entire body goes rigid and he pitches to the side. I roll to my feet and walk over to him. I should probably be above pettiness but I’m not. I hate him. I swing my leg back and land a good kick to his kidney before James shouts at me.

“Just making sure he stays down.” I smirk

Alex dips his head, hiding his smile as I fall back into the line. Sasha stands vigilantly beside him, his expression stoic and serious as always.

“Alex, Sasha, you’re up.” James points to the two of them and they strip out of their shirts, coming to stand across from each other. We call it the ring but it’s really just a designated section of the training room that we fight in. There are no ropes, and certainly no soft landing. If you go down it’s on the cold, hard concrete, and let me tell you, it hurts. Sunny has finally limped back in line just as Alex and Sasha stand off against each other. Sasha has a better technique, but Alex has this brutality in the way he fights. They’re pretty evenly matched and James always pairs them. I can see why. If Alex took on more of Sasha’s technique, and Sasha took on some of Alex’s fire, they’d both be unbeatable.

They rain blows down on each other until both of them are bloodied and bruised. Neither seems to have the upper hand. I’ve watched them trade punches like this for hours before. In the end, James calls time on it and calls us back into line.

He starts talking, but my attention turns to the heavy buzzing sound of the main door opening. I glance towards the door, watching a figure step into the room. I have to fight a grin when I see Nicholai standing, watching us. I don’t see him often. He drops in every now and then to check up on us.

“Dismissed.” James barks.

The others head straight for the showers, throwing a few glances at Nicholai. They whisper about him, they fear him. When I first came here they would speak of him, telling me that he’s the big boss of the Russian mafia. I know very little of the mafia, or the bratva as they call it in here. They say that Nicholai is a powerful man, and I suppose he must be to train his own soldiers. They also say that he’s a bad man but it all depends how you define bad. To me, he’s one of the only people who has ever cared about me. No matter his deeds, that is what I will always think of when I see him. When I look in his eyes I can only see his kindness, and I can only feel gratitude. The boys all call him sir and only speak when spoken to. I’m not the boys. I jog over to him where he stands talking to James. He looks his usual immaculate self in his suit and tie. His greying hair is swept back and he’s clean shaven, the sharp planes of his face stark against those stormy grey eyes of his.

“Nicholai!” I grin.

“Una!” James shouts, scolding me. I flinch against the bite of his voice, but Nicholai holds up a hand, silencing him.

He turns his attention to me and smiles. “Little dove. I have missed you.” He croons.

“I missed you too.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb over my bruised jaw. “James tells me you are doing well.”

I shrug one shoulder and smirk. “For a girl.”

He laughs. “Oh, my precious little dove…some of the greatest men in history have been brought to their knees by a woman. You will slay them with your looks, woo them with your innocence and end them with a bullet.” He winks. “Perfection.” I blush and drop my eyes to the floor. “I came because I have a job for you.”

I frown. “A job?”

He nods. “A protection detail.”

“Sir, they are not ready.” James interrupts.

Nicholai sighs before reaching beneath his jacket and un-holstering his gun. James tenses and I hold my breath for a second, waiting for something to happen. He stares at James the entire time as he turns the gun and hands it to me. I tentatively wrap my fingers around the hilt allowing my index finger to brush the trigger.

“Shoot the targets, little dove.” He points at the targets on the other side of the enormous concrete room. They’re maybe fifty yards away from where we stand by the door, but this is where I excel. We train ten hours a day and hand to hand combat is where my sheer lack of strength lets me down, but with a gun in my hand I’m the best. I lift the gun, flicking the safety off. I glance down the sights, take a breath and fire one bullet after the other in quick succession. A perfect bullet hole sits in the centre of each target when I’m done. I flick the safety back on and hand the gun back to Nicholai. He’s looking at me with narrowed eyes, a strange smile on his lips. He turns and claps a hand on James’ shoulder.

“You are too modest James. One year and she’s a prodigy in the making.” The muscles in James’ jaw twitch erratically but he says nothing. “Get Sasha for me, please.” James stalks away and Nicholai smiles down at me. “Very impressive.” He jerks his chin towards the targets.

“I like guns.” I tell him, and he laughs.

“You are a blessing to me.” He strokes a hand over my head and I swallow a lump in my throat.

“I…” I’m cut off when Sasha walks over to us. His back is straight, his posture tense, the same way it always is when he’s around Nicholai. Sasha says that my familiarity with Nicholai is disrespectful. Nicholai doesn’t seem to think so.

“Sir.” Again, Sasha stares straight ahead, not even looking at either of us.

“I have a job for the pair of you. Come.” He enters a code into the key pad beside the door and it buzzes open. I haven’t been past that door since I arrived here a year ago. Everything from sleeping quarters to shower facilities and cafeteria is all contained within this one wing of the facility, cut off. We live, sleep and train together, just the five of us. Of course I never talk to Sunny or Adam, so really it’s just the three of us. Sasha is like my brother, and Alex…Alex is my best friend. I’ve found a sense of belonging here, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. We’re made to fight until we’re bleeding, battered and bruised and barely able to stand. And beyond the physical is the mental. We’re made to sit and watch hours and hours of footage of people being killed. A fifty calibre bullet will blow a mans entire head off and a grenade will completely tear a body apart. They never tell us why, simply force us to watch the gruesome scenes. The thing is though, I don’t find them so gruesome anymore. Normality is whatever you make it, and this is my normal. Every single facet of my life is structured towards death and destruction.

Nicholai leads us down a corridor until he comes to a room with a heavy steel door. This room doesn’t have a key pad, but a sensored screen which he presses his thumb against. It beeps and the door releases. My jaw drops when I step inside. I’ve never seen so many guns, from hand guns to sniper rifles.

“Suit up. Take whatever you need.” He holds his arm out, inviting us into the room. Sweet.

I pick up a holster, fastening it around my waist and picking up a 9mm and a .40 cal. I check the clips on both and grab two spare clips. I find a dagger and thigh holster, strapping that to my leg.

I walk back out of the room and Nicholai wordlessly hands me a jacket that he seems to have acquired from nowhere. “It’s cold outside.”

Sasha takes the other jacket and locks eyes with me for a moment. If this is a gun toting activity then I can’t help but wonder why he isn’t taking one of the other guys. They’re much more experienced than I am.

“Come. We’re late.”