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Thanks for updating so qucikly!! Throws some vodka your way :D |
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showmelove and Mel. Me think Mel has scored the point here. Yay, it's really
Clifton's Trojan, the talking horse!!! Loooool. Only a maniac like Mel remembers all the details! Scary! YOY. Now i'd love to see u skate!!!! JUMPS a triple axel, dear! Oh, I guess Gingerbread Princess has ruined Uhaku's serious and gloomy (and innocence) reputation now. *Sobs* >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>> CHAPTER 31 It was almost seven in the evening of this snowy night. Mitch and Oliver were preparing B.B.Q in the backyard. The fat bodyguard watched the younger man beside him shivering. “I’ll take care of this. I’ll do it. You go inside, eh? And get me a few men out here,” Mitch said with a cigarette between his lips. He was wearing a thick black coat and a furry hat as if he was in some Russian winter. Obviously, to feed 70 people would require more than two men to B.B.Q the meat, but Mitch and Oliver were stubborn, wanting to be in charge. “I’ll be fine,” Oliver said, glancing at Mitch. Ever since Dimitri’s men started joining Mr. Myer, seeking a refuge, Oliver had to act tougher, not daring to let his boss down. Comparing to Roland and his gang, Dimitri’s men were more experienced and looked as though they had been around the block for a long while. “Tell me some gossip,” Mitch said. “What gossip?” “Some talks, you know.” “What talks?” “How is it working for Irish? Isn’t it grand working for her?” “It’s an honor, to be precise.” Oliver smiled arrogantly. “I’m on her side, too.” “You better.” Oliver nodded sternly as if he was ready to pull out his gun. Mitch grinned. “Is she, you know, with Mr. Myer—you know?” Oliver looked reluctant in an instant. “You men, ready?” Roland came to stand at the door to the backyard. He was in a black shirt with silver-clip, gray suspenders and a gray pair of trousers. Oliver looked at his handsome boss. “Yes, sir. In a few minutes, sir.” Roland ordered a few men to help Mitch and Oliver to grill the meat. The party should start in a few moments. Everyone was starving. The Irish came down the stairway to join Roland. With the sleeves rolled up, she looked fashionably cool in a plain, white shirt and a pair of black trousers. It was rare to see a woman wearing trousers, but it was already the next trend. Arms crossed, Lena watched the men grilling the meat. “I finished reading the document last night,” Roland muttered to his friend, pretending to look elsewhere. “I already made a copy of it and deposited it in my security box in the bank. It’ll be safe there. It’s the only way to keep Holden away.” He studied the Irish for a second. “Where did you find it…? Who gave it to you?” “I already gave one copy to Dimitri. He might need it one day.” “That was kind of you, Lena, but you haven’t replied my question.” Lena just looked straight ahead. When it was certain that she wouldn’t tell; Roland walked off. She grabbed his arm and stopped him. “I can’t mention the source. I’m sorry.” Lena tried to reason. “Why do you always keep things from me?” Lena glanced around. It seemed everyone was busy with their own things they didn’t notice Roland’s raised tone. “Do you realize how much I worried about you when you disappeared? You’d done it twice, and I’m still goddamn clueless, Lena. Maybe we’re not really a team. You don’t need me.” Lena looked down. “We’re still a team, Roland. We need each other. But I can’t mention him to anyone. I’m so sorry.” She then walked away. Roland swung his arms in reluctance and sighed. He wanted to apologize when he saw the ache in Lena’s eyes, but he thought it was better to leave her alone for a little while. >>> After fifteen minutes of applying the makeup, Yulia came out of the basement to see Lena standing in the corner, surrounded by a few men. Lena turned a bit and caught Yulia at the corner of her eyes. She excused herself and move towards the blonde. Yulia’s body stiffened, her mind rushing to find words to fire back if needed. “You look wonderful,” Lena said quietly. “Why, thank you.” Yulia raised her brows. She was wearing a blue sweater and a white skirt, something plain, yet simply looked elegant on her. “It’s your father and my welcome back party. Smile?” Without another word, Lena just walked away into the living room, which was turned into a dinning room now. Yulia wanted to follow but something stopped her. Since the night they had a small spat in the basement a few days ago, Lena had always avoided her. Maybe it was better this way when they couldn’t seem to be civilized towards each other. When Tonya arrived, Yulia kept her distance close to her friend, not really in the mood to socialize with anyone else. She occasionally looked at her father. Everything went smoothly when Dimitri was making his men laugh all the times, gobbling the B.B.Q and washing down drinks nonstop. But Yulia hardly touched the food as she kept stealing glances at the redhead, who seemed to be surrounded by people at all times. It seemed everyone wanted a piece of the Irish. “Could you stop staring at her? Everyone in the room knows now!” Tonya scooted her friend into a corner. “Everyone? Aren’t you exaggerating?” “This is a crazy circle! You kept peering at her, while she didn’t even care if you’re in the room. All the while, Mr. Myer was waiting for you to look his way!” Yulia looked down at the full plate in her hand. She certainly hoped that Roland didn’t catch her like Tonya did. “Don’t look so sad. Tell me what happened,” Tonya said eagerly, grinning. Yulia reluctantly glanced around. “We had a small argument the other night. We were fighting for the room in the basement.” “I’m sure that wasn’t it. You two were fighting not to kiss each other, I presume!” Yulia’s eyes widened. “Be quiet—” “Correction. She was fighting not to let you kiss her. Am I right? Pull yourself together, Yulia, dear. She doesn’t bat for your team.” Yulia’s brows knitted. “Who taught you to speak in such a way!?” “You ought to get back into our gossip circle. We’ve been missing you dearly.” Yulia couldn’t help but glancing Lena’s way again. “I’ve been missing it as well,” she muttered. She froze when Lena looked up at her for the first time. “Oh, Lord, she’s coming!” Tonya swiftly turned her back to Lena. Yulia fidgety looked up and down, picking the meat with her fork. “May I steal your friend for a moment?” Lena asked. Tonya spun around and put up a big smile. “Oh, hello, Ms. Cohen, welcome back! How nice of you to spare your precious time to visit this little corner of ours.” Lena smiled back at Tonya, nodding incessantly. “Thank you.” Yulia frowned at the pink shades on Lena’s cheeks. Knowing how easily Lena could get drunk, she was wondering what business the Irish was having in mind with her at this time of night. All things considered, she wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. Still sitting with his men, Dimitri turned just in time to see Yulia following Lena out of the room. >>> Striding along the corridor of the second floor, Lena led Yulia to her room at the end. It was packed everywhere in this three story house. Lena nodded to the men gathering along the way. Some were eating and drinking. Some were playing cards, and others were playing drums and clarinets. “What… up… for!?” Yulia was yelling behind Lena. Lena frowned, slowing her pace down. “I can’t hear you!” She looked around and then grabbed a mug from one of the men and washed the beer down in one big gulp. The men loudly cheered as Yulia giggled. >>> Laughing, Yulia shut the door behind her, keeping the noises out. “You’ve had enough drink, I tell you!” Lena proceeded to the record player and played up some opera music. Yulia watched the redhead close her eyes, humming along with the tune for a while. “Samson and Delilah,” Yulia said. “She betrayed him, in the name of love. My favorite.” “Isn’t it the thing to die for?” Yulia leaned back against the large wooden door. “It traps us all, wise or foolish alike,” Lena stated, nodding like a drunken scholar. Yulia chortled. “Which are you, Samson or Delilah?” “We shall find out.” Smirking, Lena walked to the desk and produced a piece of paper from the drawer. She handed it to Yulia. “Sign at the bottom here—and you can have your home back by early tomorrow morning.” Yulia stared at the piece of paper before her. Lena swayed back one step. “Stay on your feet, please. The beer was only your fifth drink. You still have a long night to go.” “You’ve been watching me?” “Aren’t you the reason for the party tonight? Everyone was watching you,” Yulia quickly said, shrugging. “I must have several holes in my face now.” Lena stuck her tongue out. Yulia took the paper and pretended to read it, trying not to smile at the sight. “Are you sure you want to throw away thirty millions like this?” “I’m buying our friendship.” “What if I don’t want that friendship?” Lena gradually sat on the bed, seemingly deep in thoughts. “You’re making it very difficult for me.” “Do tell. What’s more difficult than throwing money away?” “Think of it as my gift to you.” “Are you usually this generous to women?” Yulia asked, coyly looking down. “You—you’re not answering me. All these questions…” Lena waved blindly in refusal. Unconsciously, she cocked her head slightly, gesturing Yulia to come closer. As if hypnotized, Yulia knelt down before her. Putting both hands on the bed, Yulia locked the Irish in her position and gazed up. They stared at each other, lost in the painful, yet passionate cry of Delilah’s voice. “Sign it.” “I want more,” Yulia whispered, her hands eventually slipping inside Lena’s shirt. Closing her eyes, Lena softly sighed as Yulia began to caress her back. “I want your secret.” Lena slowly looked down at Yulia, a heavy thought lingering. “What secret—wait!” Lena suddenly squealed, pulling Yulia’s hand out of her trousers. “Hmmm, let’s not talk now.” Yulia climbed on top of the redhead, pushing her down to the bed. “You don’t understand!” “No, I don’t,” Yulia mumbled, kissing Lena’s pale neck. Lena brushed Yulia’s hands away from her breasts. “Roland is in love with you!” “Yeah, I know!” Yulia was becoming annoyed. She succeeded in flicking all the buttons on Lena’s shirt off. “I’m with somebody right now!” Yulia halted. She lifted her face up from Lena’s breasts. “Pardon?” “I’m with somebody—” “I heard that! Who is it!? Where did you find time to actually be with someone!? This is a joke, isn’t it…!? Oh, Mary… Holy Mary…” Yulia abruptly remembered how Lena managed to hide inside the ranch for a few days before the bloody Christmas. “Angela… You didn’t…” Lena looked elsewhere, while Yulia stared at her for the longest time. A knock came upon the door. “Not now!” Yulia lost it. But a few more knocks came. “What is it with people walking in all the times!? I said ‘not now’!” “Are you all right, pumpkin!?” The door swung opened, and Dimitri stood there with wide eyes. He certainly did not expect to see them in such position. Lena’s hair was messy and her shirt was unbuttoned. What shocked him even more was that Yulia was sitting right on top of the Irish, looking upset at the interruption. Dimitri’s gaze quickly left Lena’s bra. He strode to his daughter and pulled her up from the bed. “Tell me she took advantage of you. Just tell me, and everything will be done.” Lena buttoned up her shirt. “Don’t you think you’re asking the wrong person?” As soon as Yulia rushed out of the room, Dimitri turned to glare at Lena. “Do not take my daughter as a game.” “Clarify what you mean.” Lena grumpily brushed her hair from her face. “You do not need me to tell you that you have used my daughter enough. You endangered her life by taking her from the ranch that night. You ruined my career and took her from her family. From now on, stay away from her!” The Irish tilted her head back, staring at Dimitri at the tip of her nose. “I take no order from nobody.” “I admire you, Irish, that fire in you. You know I really do. You made impossible possible. But you have no conscience, young woman, and are dangerously unpredictable. Leave Yulia to Myer. Your friend can take care of her far better than you ever will.” Lena gestured towards the door. “He has your blessing. Good night.” As soon as Dimitri walked out, Lena slumped down on the bed. Her head was lighter than she wanted it to be. The heat in her body she felt earlier was gone, leaving her now cold and alone. >>> Yulia was lying on her bed in the basement when a knock came upon the door. “Pumpkin…?” “Go away.” “Let me in, darling—” Not wanting to make a scene, knowing how many men must have been gathering around in the hallway, Yulia jumped to the door and let her father in. Dimitri studied her a little before sitting down on the bed beside her, putting his large arm around her. “Why don’t you go back and join Tonya up there?” Yulia looked down. She didn’t know how to make a face to Roland after what she just did. And because Lena never embarrassed her by telling Roland how she acted behind his back, she now felt guilty and dirty. She was disgusted with herself even more so when she had just found out that Lena had been with Angela all these times. She was a fool in this game, and she hated that Lena won without even trying. “I miss mother. I miss Alex, father. When can we leave?” Dimitri paused. “You don’t look as eager, pumpkin.” Yulia rose and strode to the door. “I’m going back in.” Dimitri was baffled at her action. Surely, her father knew she had been rejected by the Irish one too many times already. She had made a quick, final decision to stop it now. “I’m going to ask Roland to go to London with us.” With that, Yulia left the room. >>> Lying on the bed, Lena rested one hand over her forehead. The young Volkova must have been frustrated after all that had happened between them, but Lena was in no state to make it any easier for them both. She had tried to stay away, but it didn’t seem to work. She admitted how she enjoyed teasing Volkova, knowing full well of her feelings. She even knew what was starting in her heart, but that had to stop somehow. Sighing, she put on a sweater and walked out to the balcony. She lit up a cigarette, flicking away the ash a little. But she stopped as she spotted Roland and Yulia down in the backyard. Yulia was saying something, causing Roland to smile broadly. Whatever it was, he seemed so excited, and she knew she should be happy for him. Often times she had to wonder why she always ended up alone, whereas Roland was totally opposite. He was never the one to have his heart broken. He never had to kill to get through life. He was going to find his birth parents when she already lost all hopes for a family. Although they loved each other more than some real siblings, she couldn’t help feeling envious now when he was about to defeat her again. Lena suddenly found it hard just to turn around and go back inside when Roland put his arms around Yulia’s waist and kissed her. It was what she always expected, but seeing it with her own eyes only made it harder. Looking away, she retreated back inside and closed the curtains. >>> Over Roland’s shoulder, Yulia glanced up to the balcony, catching the shadows of a wavy-haired figure behind the white curtains. When it seemed that the prying eye had left them alone, Yulia slowly pulled away from Roland. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she instantly looked down to avoid Roland’s gaze, managing to keep the smile on her face. It was a snowy, cold night, but she felt burnt inside. |
uhaku i looove the fic :coctail:
also like your writing very much(read all your stories) :D |
That was... Intense
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Ah the angst!!! You really have a talent for portraying these raw emotions. Throws more vodka your way :) Thanks for the update!!
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Good update and as usual, I'm waiting for more. :coctail: |
rasoska – thanks and welcome!
crampy – didn’t expect u’d like the last chap, really. I was hoping u’d be ok with this one. showmelove – I take that u follow me in almost every story I write because u like gloomy stuff? Hee hee. Mel – so huppppyyy that u liked the last update. I posted the contest though! Thanks for the question. U wanna try it? We’ll see how detail u could be, u scary detective! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >> CHAPTER 32 The skies were gray with thick clouds, and the wind was chilly and fierce. It was already three the afternoon when Yulia walked though the backdoor of the mansion to the vast field of snow. Even though Lena had legally returned the ranch to her, there was something she could never get back. Her heart sank when the sight of it abandoned and empty would be the last thing she’d take with her for years to come. With a brown small box in her hand, Yulia strode towards the barn, where Lena was feeding Trojan. She watched the redhead from the back, catching Lena’s faint chuckles. For a split second, she thought of making some noise to alert the other woman, fearing Lena would turn around and shoot her because she thought it was some intruder. Yulia stopped; she didn’t understand how she wanted to be around the Irish when she feared her. Lena giggled as Trojan licked her hand, and the bright, small smile on her face convinced Yulia that she didn’t want to be around the Irish, but Lena Cohen, the ordinary young woman from the orphanage. “Would you like some chocolate cake?” Lena jumped and turned, a sign of relief in her eyes when she saw who it was. She looked at the box in Yulia’s hand. “I heard you left right before lunch. I figured you might be hungry now, so I stopped by the market before I came here.” Yulia held the box to Lena. “Thank you,” Lena said. She opened the box immediately. Without a thought, she used her hand to grab the cake and started eating right away. “Oh, Mary! I forgot to bring a fork!” “It’s good.” “You’re a terrible liar.” “It’s good,” Lena repeated, licking her fingers. “Is that so? I baked it.” Lena looked down at the cake, which she had already gobbled half of it. She looked up again and asked, “Do you have some more?” Yulia’s stern face began to soften at the question. Lena could be lying, but she couldn’t care less. Even though this place would never be the same, she had gained something else in return. She loved walking on this lonely ground with this person beside her, unguarded and peaceful. She wished the world would always be as white as today, and shielded them from all harms. But time flied so fast her hope was slipping away. “My father and I will leave for New York City to catch the next liner to London.” Yulia said. She silently cursed the ever expressionless face before her; Lena just slightly nodded. “Next week,” Yulia added. Silence gradually gripped them both. “Hmm,” Lena muttered, looking away. “Hmm…? Is that all you could say to me—” “Stay.” Lena stared up at the blonde. Yulia paused. Lena’s word sounded as empty as her gaze. “You’re lying again.” Yulia chuckled bitterly. “It’s best for you and your father. It’s dangerous to remain here—” “Come with me?” Yulia’s question came out before she could shut her mouth. But Lena just stood still, and each second past was slowly killing her. “You know I wasn’t serious, don’t you?” Yulia laughed louder than she meant. Lena’s stare now turned even colder, and it froze Yulia to the core. “I already asked Roland, and he said ‘yes’. It’ll be a long trip over the Atlantic, but I’m not afraid now that he’s coming with me.” Yulia smiled, surprised at how fast she could speak at the moment. Lena closed the box and put it over the wooden fence. She looked elsewhere, slowly licking her hand like a wounded fox. “Don’t worry, Ms. Cohen. I’ll steal him for only a few months. He still has business to run here with you.” Lena stretched and sighed heavily. “He doesn’t have to return. In fact, it’s probably a great idea for me to retire entirely… I can’t live like this anymore…” At the last, muttering words, Yulia halted. The Irish had never opened up to her like this before. She prayed that the moment would last a little longer. “What are you afraid of?” Yulia asked. She couldn’t understand why her voice came out low in a whisper as if she might cry. Why did she feel for this woman she barely knew? Lena looked up to the falling snowflakes as though she hadn’t heard the question. “Oh, please, don’t act so tough—” “I’m not.” Yulia tried to read the intent gaze from Lena, but failed again. “I’m anything but tough,” Lena said. Yulia studied the small smile on Lena’s lips, but she couldn’t read it. She couldn’t reach, nor understand it. Who was this person in front of her? Was she chasing a ghost? “I’m nothing you ever know, and you should go.” Yulia wouldn’t listen. She moved closer, but Lena angrily pushed her away. She backed a few steps in fright as Lena kept coming in as if to hit her. She stumbled against the fence and shut her eyes, expecting a blow. But it never came. She looked up again to see the empty, stunned look on Lena’s face. Lena then spun on her heels. In silent struggle, Lena kept turning away as Yulia followed like a dog trying to catch its tail. Eventually, Yulia stilled her with a firm grip on her arms, but froze when she saw tears brimming in the green eyes. Coldly staring down at the blonde, Lena brushed Yulia’s hands off as though she was disgusted by the touch. “What is it?” Lena didn’t respond. She trudged ahead towards the mansion. “What did you see?” Yulia’s voice came out shaken. She could break down now when each of Lena’s heavy footsteps grew more and more distant. “Let me in…” Suppressing her sigh, Lena tiredly scrubbed her face with both hands. She ceased to move on, and Yulia slowly approached her. Yulia put one hand on the redhead’s cheek, caressing it. Lena must be freezing; her skin felt so cold. But Yulia fought the urge to rub her warm, fearing it might startle the ghost away. When Yulia’s hand began to slip away, Lena grabbed it and stroked it against her cheek. Eyes closed, she drifted away in her trance. “I saw him again in my dreams… And I wished I could kill him again… and again…” As the snow rang the loneliest hymn over this white ground of emptiness, Lena’s face lightened with delight. The words breezed so softly in Yulia’s ears she hardly noticed the meaning behind it. The Irish was dreaming to kill, enjoying every bit of it. The hand of the murderer was holding hers so tightly Yulia felt as though they were one. The Irish had momentarily surrendered, and she let Volkova in for the first time. >>> 1931. Lena Cohen was nobody. Lanky and red-haired, she was just another face in the crowd. She was a girl growing up in an orphanage, just another scumbag walking in the streets of Chicago. It was four years before ‘the Irish’ was born. She was barely sixteen. It was snowing hard outside tonight. With dreamy eyes, the red-haired teenager rested her elbow on the piano, smiling. She was in a black, worn sweater, a gray, wool skirt and a black pair of stockings. In the small lobby inside an aged, three stories building, Celia Cohen was strumming her fingers on the keys of an old, wooden piano. The keys were yellowing, but the melody hadn’t lost one bit of its magic. It was the loneliest tune Lena had ever known. “It is beautiful,” Lena mumbled. The middle-aged woman smiled. “That’s because it’s the only show we can afford to see.” Lena looked grim for a second. Her gaze drifted out the window to the streets she knew no one out there. Celia looked up and studied her. They needn’t speak a word; they knew what was inside each other’s mind. “Where is Roland? Isn’t the young man supposed to be here with you?” Lena chortled. “Oh, he has a lovely meeting with a girl from the pawn shop tonight. You should have expected it. He’s such a womanizer.” “He has grown quite handsome, I see. You’re of age now, aren’t you? Anyone interested you?” Celia asked while her fingers kept drumming masterfully, driving Lena to the edge with each of the lonesome note. “No one, Celia… No one.” Lena didn’t think that mentioning a secret love affair with a factory girl would be important. After all, the factory girl would get married in a few months, and Lena would be all alone as always. Celia looked up at the whisper. “How is life out there? You disappeared for four months after you left my care. Roland always made excuses for you, but I knew. I was worried about you, my little Lena.” The motherly tone usually warmed Lena to some extent, but it was so cold tonight nothing seemed to be able to penetrate into her. “I was mad… so mad,” Lena said simply. But the innocent look on her face somehow gripped Celia, causing the older woman to strike a wrong key. Celia was quick to catch up with the tune though. “What could possibly make you angry?” Celia asked calmly. Lena was mostly different from other teenage girls. She wasn’t as talkative and didn’t get excited over little things. She didn’t like talking about herself as girls her age would. She was able to keep a million secrets to herself and laughed at the smallest jokes as if life had always been so wonderful to her. But tonight, Celia was going to see another side from the girl she taught how to live. “You,” Lena replied with a straight face. Celia looked up, but did not stop playing the piano. For the first time, Lena gave a cold look at the woman who raised her, and she knew that Celia feared that silence would punish her. “You’ve met her?” Celia whispered. “She denied ever having me,” Lena said, smiling as she brushed the strands of her red locks from her face. Celia caught the ill-timed smile and chill ran down her spine. “You said she was dead,” Lena continued, a sigh starting to replace her smile. “It is illegal to reveal their identities.” “You put laws between us.” Celia closed her eyes at the painful accusation. She strummed her fingers harder, determined to keep the melody alive. Lena pounded her fist on the keys, striking up a loud note. “Stop it! You are driving me insane!” “Lena! Behave!” Celia rose from her chair. She was a huge woman by normal standard. She had no problem looming above the red-haired girl. “I told you she was dead because there was no point to search for a woman who never wanted you from the start. I love you, Lena. She didn’t. She doesn’t.” “That hurts to know,” Lena said, glaring at Celia as she backed away. Celia slowly approached the girl. “Please, Lena…” She opened her arms, expecting the red-haired girl to run into the embrace, as always. But Lena stumbled back against the window, sharp coldness numbing her whole being. She knew she was special, comparing to the other kids in the orphanage. Celia particularly spoiled her, as much as the budget would allow. Celia was always there to tell her stories before she went to bed. Celia was everything a mother should be. But nature was betraying them both. Lena was blinded, thinking she could have more than what God granted her. She defied Him, and was punished with the ugly truth. Her birth mother didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Lena shook her head vacantly. She moved to the door and put on her worn coat and dirty gloves. She had been working so hard, spending all her savings to search for her lost mother. But buying a new coat was more a practical thing to do than trying to make a dream come true. In silence, she walked out the door. But as soon as she turned at the corner, she threw her gloved fist at the concrete wall, screaming at the top of her lungs. The passersby quickly avoided her path. Putting her numbed hand inside her coat pocket, she strode away in the cold wind. >>> It was another gray evening as Lena glided through the streets. Celia’s lonely melody still haunted her, and she was near defeat in fending it off her heart. She stopped and looked reluctant before she made her way into an old, small building at the corner of North Street. She had a brown bag in her hand as she knocked on the door to room 302 on the third floor. A blonde, little girl around age of six came answering the door. “Lena!” “Shhh…!” Lena looked inside. “Where’s Gwen?” “She’s in her room. What you got in there?” “A loaf of bread for my Becky,” Lena said, grinning widely. She patted the head of her half-sister, handing the bag to the little girl. “Thank you! Would you come inside!?” “Shhh!” “Come on in! Come in!” “I can’t—” “Who is it, Becky?” A woman in her early forties entered the dark hallway, stopping at the sight of Lena. “What are you doing here…?” Lena immediately turned away. “You shouldn’t have…” Lena stopped. She turned to see Gwen’s reluctant gaze at the brown bag in the little girl’s hands. She was going to leave again, but Gwen called out for her. “Lena.” Lena looked blank. Gwen was hesitant for a second. “My husband will come back late tonight… Would you like to have a dinner with us?” At the small kitchen table, Lena sat opposite to Gwen, staring at the older woman’s shy, green eyes, which looked remarkably like her own. But Gwen had blonde hair, just like Becky. Lena wondered if her birth father was a redhead also, or maybe her grandparents were. Before she slipped off into the dream to meet her whole family, she pulled herself back down to earth. Gwen was considered beautiful for a woman her age. She was a thin and pretty Cinderella in worn clothes; only the prince had abandoned her long ago. He left her sad and old, and Lena thought for a second that Gwen deserved so. “The soup is hot. Be careful,” Gwen said to Becky, and then nodded at Lena. Lena blew a soft breath at the spoonful before sipping it. Celia was a hundred times a better cook than Gwen, but Lena could simply cry over this salty bowl of soup. “I’m… I’m sorry I acted that way with you…” Lena unconsciously gripped the stainless spoon so tightly she nearly bent it. “I didn’t mean to walk out on you—” You didn’t mean to have me. Lena calmly put the spoon down, looking elsewhere before she couldn’t stop herself from lunging at the woman. “Ted didn’t like to see me associate with anything from… the past… from your father…” Becky put some bread Lena had just bought into the soup and took a mouthful of it. “This is so good, Lena!” the little girl exclaimed. Lena laughed at the soup splattered all over Becky’s face. Gwen irritably wiped Becky’s mouth with a napkin. Fortunately, even though Gwen refused to recognize her, the woman allowed her to take Becky to the park a few times now. Becky was practically the only one who could make her heart beat these days. It was Becky, and not the factory girl who never thought of her more than a casual fuck. Not Roland who spent most of his time worrying about his next conquests over girls who didn’t mean anything to him. Not Celia who lied to her, breaking her heart. Worst of all, she didn’t know how to mend it back. “I could get you some more tomorrow,” Lena said, smiling and lightly poking Becky’s stomach. Becky’s eyes widened. “Promise!? And a scoop of ice-cream!?” “Becky!” Gwen sighed. “I promise,” Lena said. But her smile gradually faded as her gaze met with Gwen’s again. “Would you do me a favor?” She then asked, taking another spoonful of soup. Gwen held her breath. “Would you spare me the money and time to find him?” “That is ridiculous,” Gwen hissed. “Why?” “You don’t know him!” “Obviously, I don’t.” Gwen sat back, staring at Lena. “He would never welcome you. He was the one to tell me to have an abortion, but I kept you until you were born. I thought you could change his mind, but he refused even to see you then. He finally left me.” Lena chuckled dryly. People seemed to be so blatantly honest these days she didn’t think she could take anymore of it. “He would have left me anyway,” Gwen said, looking down. “He was handsome and extremely wealthy. He was a prince. I was just one of his many women. He’s so powerful now he would never acknowledge you, Lena. Give up on him.” Lena couldn’t understand why she was smiling. It made her feel like a clown. She swore she would never smile again when it hurt. She would just let it slip past by like a cold breeze. The door burst opened, causing Gwen to jump to her feet. Gwen’s husband, Ted, came through the door and didn’t bother to lock it behind him. “You wouldn’t believe whom I have just met!” Ted didn’t even notice Lena at first. When he did, he glared at his wife. “Honey, I believe you—you—remember… Lena… remember her,” Gwen stuttered. Lena rose to her feet. “Hello, Ted. I was about to leave.” She pecked Becky on her cheek and walked to the hanger to retrieve her coat. “I met Kirk Mason! Can you believe that!?” Ted turned to his wife. He was too excited to be bothered by the presence of a nobody like Lena Cohen. “Oh, Lord, what did you do!?” Gwen asked. Lena put on her coat and decided that her mother would not walk her to the door. “He is so down-to-earth, Gwen, darling! He even offered me a job! I could be one of his chauffeurs!” “That’s great to hear! How much will he pay you?” “I didn’t ask. It was just so grand meeting him in person! He bought me a drink, too!” Lena winked at Becky and walked out the door. She didn’t know who Kirk Mason was, or why Gwen and Ted were so excited about meeting the man. Little did she know that fate would bring them together. One showdown the young Cohen would make everyone remember for the rest of their life. >>> In the cold, Lena strode, heading to Gwen’s apartment as promised yesterday. She hadn’t told Roland of what she had been doing these past months, embarrassed to tell him how her birth mother denied her. She only hoped it might change one day. Lena was holding a bigger bag, containing a few loafs of bread, and a cone of ice- cream in another hand. Yesterday turned out better than she thought, and today would be a little better than yesterday. Slowly, Gwen would open up to her. She couldn’t help but dreamt again, a smile threatened to appear on her face. As Lena made her way up the dark staircase, she heard a faint yelling and laughter from upstairs. As soon as she saw a few men in dark suits along the corridor of the third floor, she knew instantly that they were mafias. Good men in expensive suits had no business in this rotten apartment building. She turned the other way to the fire escape and thought for a moment before going around to the other side of the building. There were no one guarding the area; those men didn’t know there was another way. She carefully moved along the narrow path and stopped at Gwen’s room’s windows. She knelt down, letting only her eyes to see into the room, wanting to make sure that Ted was not home. She peeped inside and saw about seven men in the apartment, surrounding Ted and Gwen. Becky was holding onto her mother in fright. A man in his late forties was sitting at the table. He was in a white suit and a black coat was hanging over his broad shoulders. His thinning, dark brown hair was pulled back neatly, a cigar between his lips. A young man gripped Ted’s collar and snarled. “Don’t you dare saying ‘no’ to Mr. Mason! Do you want to work for us!?” “Yes—I do!” “Then give him what he wants!” “No—p—please! Please leave them be!” Ted begged. Mason’s laugh echoed through the hallway. He stood up and waved his men away. When they grabbed Becky, Mason stomped his foot. “Leave her to me! Take them two away!” Perplexed, Lena pressed her face closer to the window. Her gaze locked at Mason as he had his privacy, and proceeded to rip Becky’s clothes off. The little girl started to cry. Mason thrust her against the wall. He pinned her with one hand as he unzipped his trousers. Lena’s head snapped as she heard Gwen’s agonizing scream from the other room. Lord knew what those men were doing to her. But her attention was pulled back to Mason as he entered Becky, causing her to squeal in pain. He slapped the little girl again and again, scolding at her to be quiet. He laughed when Becky cried louder and louder. For a split second, Becky spot Lena outside the window. “Lena…!” Mason must have paid no attention. He didn’t stop to think. He was in ecstasy, while the world around him was falling apart. “Lena, help…! Please…!” Lena unconsciously threw herself to the floor, dropping the ice-cream cone and the bag. Trembling, she shut her eyes tightly as Becky kept screaming for her. She grabbed her own face, her mouth, literally shutting herself up. She bit her fingers so hard she could taste the blood. Oh, I hate you, God! I hate you! I hate you! Minutes past by like the darkest hours. Three gunshots blasted through the dark corridor. Lena sat up, shivering and waiting for something she didn’t know. Shortly after, she could smell the smoke coming from inside, followed by the men’s rushing footsteps down the stairs. When she was certain that they were all gone, she crawled from the fire escape into the corridor. She rushed to the smoke-filled room, but froze at the door. The smoke had finally got in her eyes, causing her to cry. Gwen’s body was naked and torn, and so was Becky’s. Ted was lying on the floor, thrown against the shelf. It appeared that the two adults were shot in the heads. Lena moved a little closer to Becky and knelt down beside her. The little girl was gagging from the gunshot wound in the neck. Becky’s eyes widened as she looked up to Lena. She was trying to say something, but failed. Biting her lips, Lena held the tiny hands up, tears streaming down her cheeks and sinking into Becky’s blood. Holding the girl up with both hands, Lena shook uncontrollably. She thought to take Becky to a hospital but stopped when she saw that Becky was staring down at the bodies of her parents, terror flooding her eyes. “Tell me what I should do! Tell me what to do!” Lena screamed and screamed, jerking in madness. She had no free hand to block the sight from Becky’s eyes, and when she swirled around, Becky’s gaze came to fix upon her instead, accusing her of the crime. Roaring in rage, shame threw her to her knees. The fire had caught on to almost all of the furniture. Yells and cries were echoing through the hallways of downstairs. Lena then tried to suppress her sobbing. She gently laid Becky down beside the lifeless Gwen and put the woman’s arm around the little girl. She knew it was time to leave. It was time to let it all go. The fire had burnt her dream down, and hate had buried the hope she never knew. In the thick clouds, the faithful words were whispered. “I promise… I promise…” >>> The skies were as gray as the smoke in that room. The snow kept falling, burying everything into whiteness of oblivion. Sitting by the opened doors to the balcony of her bedroom, Yulia watched Lena, who was sitting at the other side of the door, drifting away in her own thoughts. “I promised her death…” Lena Cohen spent an entire year of her life, tracking Mason down. Instead of buying a new coat, she bought guns and spent all she had on practices. As soon as she discovered her deadly talent, she quitted the sloppy jobs. Stealing and threatening the neighbors became her full-time career. Although Celia kept inviting her on different occasions, she always sent Roland as a careless apology. Month after month, the only thing in her head was Mason, obsessed and carved into her mind. She planned carefully, and each move was flawless. Some even said it was a masterpiece. When the night came, the tyrant died and the Irish succeeded him. It was one way to go with no return. Yulia crawled to Lena and reached for her hand. “I killed his son in front of him. I watched him cry like a pig.” Lena scoffed, but a frown of suspicion suddenly appeared on her face. Hugging her knees and rocking slightly, she blankly muttered, “It didn’t hurt at first, but it does now… That’s impossible…?” Yulia held the cold hand tighter. It did not matter whether Lena had her revenge, she could never escape this nightmare. God had deserted her from the start, and the Irish was meant to be forever in the dark. “We can’t have it all, can we? It is life we must face.” “Reading it from a book is different from living it. What do you know, Volkova?” Yulia would have been enraged, but something so fragile, so fractured behind the Irish’s mask held her back. She sat for a moment, looking down and contemplating. “I dare say I don’t know what hate is, and I don’t want to… I don’t want you to.” Her words came out in a forlorn whisper, driving a tear to slide down Lena’s cheek. Lena hugged her knees tighter, staring down at the snowy ground of the balcony. Did the Irish really care? Lena was just as scared that she hate might be the only thing she would take to her grave. “Why did you decide to tell me?” Yulia waited for a reply she didn’t expect to get. “Because you are beautiful,” Lena muttered, absorbed by the whiteness before her. In silence, Yulia watched the Irish, feeling a deep cut somewhere in her heart. It was just another lie from someone who barely cared to deceive. “It’s because I’m leaving…” Truth hurt. And if she were to be hurt, she rather did it herself. She would not be fooled. Lena looked up, her gaze unashamedly accepting the offense she had no intention to undo. Yulia unconsciously leaned forwards, in which Lena didn’t back away but returned the kiss as fiercely. Lena wrapped her arms around the blonde and laid her down on the carpeted floor. She ran her fingers over Yulia’s lipstick-tainted cheeks, feverishly rubbing the marks off. When Yulia began to breathe harder, Lena suffocated her with another kiss. Holding Yulia’s hands over her head, Lena used her other free hand to unzip Yulia’s skirt and took it off. She took her time rolling the stockings down, stroking Yulia’s bare legs, causing Yulia to shiver. Even if it was because of the cold wind, Lena showed no interest in closing the balcony’s doors. She would just take it as her doing. At the moment, Yulia closed her eyes and fought her hands off Lena’s grip. Instead of pushing the Irish away, she swung her arms around Lena’s neck and pulled her in tighter. She realized then that she was wrong. She would gladly let the Irish play her. She would hurt just to be another pawn in this torturing game. The Irish could use her all she wanted, and she’d be there like a soulless slave, but with a heart ready to be damned. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> > Author’s note: this chapter contains violence, but it’s probably too late for you not to read anyway. LOOOOOL. Ok. Me serious now. I actually thought to dedicate a chapter for Mason’s murder, but then… I think it’s better to leave it a myth? What do u think? |
That update explained alot of what the Irish is about and also the mystery behind Mason. I loved it...and not just because of the end although that had alot to do with it :)
Oh and I have followed you from your first fic because even with the gloom and doom you can write one hell of a story!! |
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Aaaah, such a wonderful update. Lena's a bad girl! Lena's a bad girl! Lena's a bad girl with a dark past and even darker 'present'! *drools* |
Not only I pooped three times today, I farted out a chapter for u.
I apologize for my nasty/rude comment. LOL! Right! Off to take a shower, ready for clubbing! Yaaaay! Hope u guys enjoy it! Showmelove, thanks for the kind words! Btw, mel, I always know u r not a cop. I just like to use the word, cus u r scarier than them! __________________________________________________ _______________ CHAPTER 33 It was the morning Dimitri, Yulia and Roland set off to catch the train to New York City. The traffic was terrifically light at this early hour. Inside the Cadillac, Lena was sitting in the back with Roland. Oliver was in the front passenger seat. Yulia and her father were in another car behind them. “I’ll get some English tea for you,” Roland said merrily. Lena looked out the window. “I can get it here.” He shook her hand lightly. “Oh, Lena! It’ll be only a few months! It’ll be just fine! But you promise me now that you won’t just go for a night stroll alone. Holden is still around, although he’s unusually quiet ever since you came back. Hmm.” “He’ll always be around. I can’t stop living, can I?” “Don’t do this to me. I can’t leave in peace if I don’t have your promise!” “I hope London treats you kindly.” Lena finally smiled. “I love you, Lena. Please take good care of yourself.” Lena paused, trying to rephrase her words. She felt ashamed to utter the word back to him after what she had done with Yulia. “Come back in one piece,” Lena said quietly. “Does this mean you’ll be waiting for me still?” Lena looked down. Surely, he must have heard from Yulia that she wanted out. “We have a long way to go, Lena. We can’t quit now. Take some rest. Go on a vacation, so you won’t have to kill anybody for a while.” He chuckled, broadly smiling. “Things will be all right again! You’ll miss making millions with me!” Lena scratched her cheek. “We’ve made enough.” “Oh, you’re making Oliver twist here! He needs you!” Roland leaned forwards and gave Oliver a tight hug, receiving a reluctant laugh from the young man in the front. “Like I said, take some rest. We’ll talk about it when I get back, all right?” Lena could never really deny Roland anything. She just nodded vacantly at his plea. >>> In another car, Yulia sat still in the back seat with her father. Dimitri certainly noted how strange his daughter had acted in the past few days. Yulia stopped talking altogether and spent most of her time in the basement. He even thought for a moment that she might bail out on this trip the last minute. Until they got on the liner, heading off into the Atlantic, he just had to hold his breath. His little Yulia was known to make a sudden change of heart, very much like him when he was a younger man. But he was a little relieved when the Irish approached him last night, and they had a talk over a cup of tea. It seemed the redhead wanted to make a truce. She didn’t apologize out right for what she had done, but sincerely wished Dimitri’s a safe journey to England. She even asked Dimitri to bid Yulia farewell for her, knowing that Yulia was avoiding her. But Dimitri wondered if it was because she just didn’t dare to face his daughter. He couldn’t possibly know how deep the young Irish’s feeling was, but it seemed that she was trying to give it up. She didn’t have to say it, but Dimitri thanked her for it. “Your mother is looking forwards to see you again, pumpkin.” Yulia’s head suddenly jerked up. She looked bewildered. “What is it?” Dimitri asked, sweating. “I had it washed and I forgot to get it back from the maids!” “Well, what is it?” “My nightgown! Oh, Mary, why did you do this to me!?” “We can buy a new one when we get to New York, darling.” “No! No, I have to ring them and tell them to ship it to London! Don’t forget to remind me to ring them!” “All right. All right. We’ll do that first thing when we get to the station.” Yulia still sat fidgety, shifting left and right in her post. “What is it now, pumpkin?” Dimitri wiped the sweat off his face. It was quite warm in the car, and Yulia’s dilemma didn’t seem to help. “I’m in love—” “Pardon!” Dimitri yelped. He glanced at the driver and Mitch in the front. As expected, the men pretended not to have heard. “But that’s good news, my little pumpkin! Roland will be delighted to hear it from your mouth! But let’s not talk about it now, shall we? It’s a little too crowded in here.” Yulia didn’t seem to know or care. She just irritably looked out the window, ignoring her father. Dimitri sat in his seat, wide-eyed. He didn’t think he could take anymore surprise from his daughter. It was too early! >>> Roland glanced at Oliver and the driver in the front. He decided that the men would just turn a deaf ear to their bosses’ conversation. He nudged Lena a little, pulling her attention away from the scenery out the window. “Yulia’s been acting so strangely lately. Do you happen to know why?” Lena paused, and then just shook her head as if she was not even slightly interested in this topic. Roland grumpily sat back in his seat. “I don’t understand her at all, Lena.” He tried to keep his voice low. “She’d be so ecstatic around me one day and all distant the next. I know she’s a beautiful lady, and beautiful ladies always have men around them… Do you think she’s seeing someone else?” Lena paused, and then shrugged. Roland was getting impatient with his friend’s inert reaction. “Well, you’re a woman, too. Would you act like this with a person you like?” “Possible.” “I’d never understand women!” “Haven’t you met enough of them to know them well now?” Roland sighed. “Maybe I’m just… I look too much into everything. See, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone this—beautiful, so vibrant—” “I think she’ll want to hear that straight from you.” Lena glanced at the men in front. But Roland was too preoccupied in his own thoughts, he wasn’t listening. “Why would she act so cold with me? She practically ignored me for the past few days. Maybe she was playing hard to get. I did doubt whether she really wanted me in London with her.” A serious look in her eyes, Lena sat back, looking straight ahead. “Don’t call me sly, but I knocked upon her door in the middle of the night last night, and—” “You needn’t tell me—” “She was bubbly and excited! She smiled and assured me that she would love to have me there!” Roland grinned to himself. “Oh, her smile…! Did I tell you that I once took her to her favorite restaurant, and she made me walk home with her? Wow! I should have walked more often! It’s simply beautiful and refreshing to stroll along the lake. It was cold though, but that’s all right.” Lena raised her brows. “I told you so.” “I know I should have listened to you!” Roland laughed heartily. >>> Right when the car pulled over along the curb right in front of Central Station, Yulia sprinted to find a public telephone. Roland climbed out of the car but shut the door before Lena could come out. He waved, gesturing her to roll down the window. Confused, she did as instruct. He bent down to talk over the half-rolled down window. “My darling, Lena, I’d prefer you stay in with Oliver. The other men will be escorting us to the platform. We’ll be fine.” He smiled at her, and they looked at each other for a while. They had never been apart from each other ever since they could remember. This trip was going to be hard on both of them even though they wouldn’t admit it. Lena urgently reached for his hand over the window. “I’ll miss you, Roland.” “Would you cry for me?” he teased. Lena just chuckled as a response. Roland straightened himself up and looked around. His men were taking the suitcases out of the trunks of the cars. He approached Dimitri, frowning. “Where did she go?” Roland asked. “She has to make an important phone call back to your house.” Roland knew that Dimitri was not the type of father who would have his daughter followed by bodyguards all the times, but he couldn’t help feeling displeased at the moment. “Has she forgotten something?” “Yes, she needs her nightgown shipped to London… Ah, there she is!” Dimitri gestured to Yulia, who was running towards them. Roland opened his mouth, ready to fire. “You could have told Mitch to—” “Everything is fine now! Shall we go?” Yulia grinned. Roland softened at the blonde’s smile. He offered his arm, and she took it. She glanced back at the cars, and spotted Lena in the backseat. There was no sign that Lena would leave the car, and as much as she wanted to see her one last time, she thought it was safer for Lena this way. And maybe she didn’t really want a goodbye after all since she had been avoiding it the past few days. At the thought, she looked away and walked with Roland towards the gate, heading to the platform. Mitch was to travel with them, so he closely followed, guarding them at all times. When they all had gotten onto the train, Dimitri relaxingly slumped down and lighted up a cigar. Beaming, he ordered a glass of wine instantly. Roland ordered two men to stay with Dimitri and Yulia, while he and Mitch would go speak to the captain about their demands for safety. There was sure to be some heavy tipping to ward off people from their rooms. Yulia sat down on the couch opposite to her father. She took her hat off, and grumpily tossed her gloves away so she could comb her messy, blonde hair. She couldn’t sleep at all last night, which resulted in waking up later than scheduled, costing her the luxury of time to spend in front of the mirror this morning. When her hair was neatly adjusted, she pulled a lipstick out of her purse, turning a little towards the glassy window to look at her reflection. She halted right when she spotted Lena just outside the window. She rose to her feet in disbelief, looking down to the red-haired young woman, who was staring right up at her. Without a thought, as always, Yulia tossed her lipstick aside and rushed out of the room. The men were still putting the suitcases into place; they didn’t catch her. >>> On the platform, Lena observed Yulia, who had run and stopped right in front of her, slightly out of breath. Lena brushed Yulia’s blonde hair to the side, wanting to imprint the sight of those blue eyes in her mind. Lena smiled. “When you join the Olympic team, that’ll be the reason to watch sports.” >>> Mouth wide opened, Dimitri was glued to his seat, pressing his forehead against the glass and watching his daughter with the Irish on the platform. >>> Panting, Yulia stood in front of the Irish, trying to still her heartbeat because she didn’t trust where the heart would lead her. She took a moment to gather her strength and looked up. She silently waited for the farewell she didn’t welcome, but she knew she would regret it if she refused it now. When she noted that Lena had come by herself, she couldn’t help glancing around, looking out for her. Strangely, Lena seemed not to care what was going on around her. She took a step forwards, eliminating the distance between them. She opened her mouth but suddenly paused. Yulia’s gaze followed Lena’s. She turned around to see her father by the steps on the train. He was holding onto the rail with one hand, hanging himself out and looking at them. Somehow, she couldn’t read the expression on his face. There was no anger in his eyes, but almost a sad look instead. She walked back to him, and Lena followed. “Father…” Dimitri took a look at his chain watch and put up a smile for his daughter. “The train is leaving in two minutes. You make it fast, pumpkin.” Yulia spun around to face the other woman. It was this moment or never. But everything was so sudden she was at a loss for words. She just leapt at her. Lena firmly embraced her back, holding her slightly off the ground. Trembling, she squeezed her eyes shut when the Irish buried her face in the slim shoulder. Lena’s lips moving along the base of Yulia’s neck, whispering. “Good bye—” “Move!” a shout came from the distance. Instinctively, the Irish pushed Yulia away and turned to the source of voice. She pulled out her gun, not caring whoever it was or why. Panicking, Yulia stumbled back to put herself in front of her father. It could be just a hurried passenger for all she knew, but she wasn’t going to risk losing her father again. Four gunshots thundered, and screams echoed along the platform. Lena made sure that the man would die by firing three times. Before long, the security guards arrived the spot. Seeing two bodies on the ground, they pointed their guns at the red-haired woman. “Put the gun down! Put it down!” “Oh, my God, somebody got shot! Call an ambulance! “Put your hands up in the air! Do it!” Lena stared down at the body of the man who had just failed to assassinate her. She then carefully put the gun on the ground, and the guards sped at her, pinning her down to the ground. “Yuli! Yuli! Talk to me! Yuli!” Lena’s head snapped when she heard Dimitri’s shout. Yulia was unconscious on the cement floor. He would have been shot if it were not for Yulia’s attempt to protect him. Blood trickling down her chest, she looked horribly ashen, lying limply in her father’s arms. Lena struggled to lose the guards’ grip on her. She shouted for Yulia, hoping to get some response, but there was none. When she almost lost the strong hold, the guard hit right in the back of her neck with the gun, knocking her out cold. But she swore she could hear her own scream in the dark. She wasn’t sure whether she was still in Gwen’s burning apartment, or the chaotic platform. It didn’t matter because she was already in hell. |
You just never run out of surprises!! The Irish couldn't resist saying goodbye and when she followed her heart.....disaster....well, that remains to be seen. Will be patiently waiting for the next update, but thanks for farting out this one :)
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Ok... enough. I'll try to be a good girl now (as if!) and wait for the next update. |
I’m actually reluctant about this chapter. Hmmmmmmmm. :bum:
I don’t know why it’s frustrating me. Anywho. Here’s a new chap for ya all. showmelove – Surprises? Lol. I feel like a bloody santa now. Yippee! mel – and me is glad that u like me that much. btw, I like ur answer. U identifying with Nika did surprise me. It proves u r narcissistic! LOOOOL! :D It’s official. “Mr. Volkov… Marry me?” :cool: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>> CHAPTER 34 Lena woke again to find herself on the damp, cement ground. She was still in the same clothes she wore this morning. A rat ran past the steely bars into the shadows. Sitting up, she winced as she rubbed her neck. She froze when the thought of Yulia came into her mind. Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. With a few cops leading, a tall man in black came to stop on the other side of the bars. Getting on her feet, Lena squinted in the dark, her vision still a little blurry. The bars slid opened, and somehow, she knew that this man didn’t come to get her out of here. He greeted her first thing with a kick in her ribs. She tumbled back against the wall, and he gave her a full smack at her cheekbone, driving her to the floor. “Mr. Young said, ‘Hello, Irish’.” His voice sounded so cold like a winter’s night. Shaking her head a little, Lena tried to push herself up. She wondered what Roland was doing. She would not last this man if her friend couldn’t get her out of here tonight. Lena stopped at the cold touch of metal against her temple. “Just a friendly note. You can’t shoot me in here, or it’ll be a scandal. Your boss wouldn’t want to do anything with you after this.” Thank God that the man stopped, but Lena sensed his chilling smile in the dark. “You maybe right, Irish,” he said. Another hard kick repeated at the same spot on her ribs. She curled up in a ball. She put her arms up to block any possible blow to the head, but she was losing it fast when he kept coming in. She gave out a muted scream when a full-force kick seemed to break her ribs. “I think the crack sounds real nice,” he said. He meant to beat her up until she die and frame the inmates for the crime. Jolting her hands away from her face, he pulled her hair and slammed her head against the wall. Grinning, he kneed her in the stomach. “Any last will?” Lena stared up at him, coughing furiously. “I have a present… for him… Cargo 2WO…” She then spat the blood at his face. The man paused before knuckled her in the ear, shoving her down against the hard cement. He took out a handkerchief and wiped off the blood from his face. As expected, he left the cell to make a phone call to his boss, grunting at the interruption of the fun time. Lena brushed the blood from her mouth. Although she felt terribly dizzy, the cops’ giggles rang distantly in her ears. Roughly five minutes later, the man in black returned. “He would love to see you tonight, you dog.” And he kept beating her until he stumbled backwards, out of breath and satisfied with the craving to kill. He dabbed the crimson shades from his hands with the same handkerchief and tossed it away. He then motioned the cops to come in and drag the limping Lena out of the cell. >>> Along the bright hallway, Dimitri sat still on a bench in front of a hospital room, a burning cigar between his fingers. Mitch was standing right by his boss’ side, a deep frown on his face. As soon as Yulia was out of the emergency room, Roland ordered his men to prepare taking her back to his place. The police didn’t like mafias hanging around public places like this, not to mention that it wasn’t safe for Yulia here either. Roland sat down beside Dimitri, pale and exhausted after a long day. “She’ll be all right, Mr. Volkov. The doctor said she’ll be all right.” Dimitri buried his face in his large palms. “She had done it before. She’d done it before, and both times they were for me…” Yulia would have died for her father, and she had proved it by taking a bullet for him two years ago. She had done something even Mrs. Volkova wasn’t sure she herself could. One could argue it was only her reckless and untamed instinct, but Yulia would do it again if needed. That much Dimitri knew for certain. All of a sudden, Dimitri straightened himself up. It wasn’t the time to feel sorry. He needed to be strong for his daughter now. He would not let the crime go unnoticed. Someone must pay for it, and he knew just who it was. Oliver was running down the hallway towards them. Roland had sent him to the police station since morning to try to bail Lena out. The laws were typically friendly when it was clearly a self-defense case. But it was already nine o’clock at night. “What took you so long!? Where’s Lena!?” Roland rose to his feet. “They wouldn’t let me—” “What!? Why didn’t you tell me!?” Roland pushed Oliver around. “They told me to wait, sir! And I waited, and—and—” “Speak up!” Roland was so tired he lost his usually cool demeanor. “I just found out that someone by the name Burke had already got her out. I don’t know how, sir! I don’t know who he is, sir!” Dimitri stood up, putting on his suit jacket and adjusting his bowtie. “Wayne Burke. He’s Holden’s right hand.” He finally knew for sure who was behind all this mess that almost caused Yulia’s life. “Holden…?” Roland slouched down on the bench, shocked and hopeless all at once. “She’s still alive. He wouldn’t have bailed her out if he meant to kill her in the cell.” Dimitri started to walk away. Roland immediately followed. “Where are you going!?” Dimitri turned and firmly pounded at the younger man’s chest. “You take my daughter back home, kid, and you better make goddamn sure that she’ll be all right.” He nodded and then said, “I’ll get your friend back. I’ll get her back.” Roland watched Dimitri walk away, and then looked at Mitch. “My duty now is to secure Yulia, sir,” Mitch said firmly. Roland nodded, and then ordered Oliver to follow the Russian. He realized then that Dimitri was willing to take the risk for him. He was to stay behind and take Yulia to safety. It was his job to bring the secret documents to light if something should happen to Dimitri and Lena. However, he chose to believe in Dimitri’s promise. For now. >>> Inside a huge, abandoned warehouse, Lena was surrounded by at least twenty, armed men. Bruised and battered, she struggled to stay on her feet. She couldn’t see clearly when crimson kept streaming down her forehead and dripping into her left eye. She tried to brush it off, but her already drenched sleeves didn’t seem to help. Wayne Burke closed in on her again and knowingly swung a bat right at her already broken ribs. She flopped down forwards as a sharp pain shot right through her whole body. She was retching on the floor, blood swamped in her throat. It wasn’t the first strike, and she didn’t think she could walk for a few days, if she were still alive then. “How did you know about Cayman…? I won’t ask again!” Burke raised the bat, but Holden stopped him. The young master glided to the wounded woman and spat down at her. He circled her, staring at her with absolute hate. When he could have had his revenge, the subject of T.S. Cayman had to interrupt his dream. “I’ve been waiting of this day for three whole years, Irish. How do you feel tonight?” Squinting up at Holden, Lena was about to pass out. But the mention of Mason’s death only reminded her of Becky and Gwen. And the memory began to replace all the pain with rage again. “This must be the hand that killed my father.” Holden stomped real hard on her right hand, breaking her fingers and squashing them. Twisting, Lena bit her lips as not to scream aloud. She managed to pull his leg with another hand, dragging him down with her. She even got a weak punch at his face with her good hand. She was holding on, meaning to fight until her last breath. Holden panicked. Her blood was all over his suit. With one swing of a fist in her face, he easily thrust her away. His men hurriedly helped him up. “Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you! Fuck you!” Holden yelled, kicking her repeatedly. He knew that was all he could do. If the Irish turned up dead, her partner would surely expose the secret documents, and Holden would have to run for his life. At the thought of losing the chance to revenge, he snatched the bat from Burke and struck her in madness. “Sir! Sir!” A boy ran into the warehouse, startled. The woman at his feet seemed to lose consciousness already, but Holden still couldn’t stop himself, enjoying the feat immensely. “Sir! There’s someone here to see you, sir!” Panting, Holden eventually halted and looked up to see Dimitri Volkov marching into the warehouse, waving the men out of his way. With a cigar between his lips, the fat, blond thug didn’t have a gun in his hands, but was armed with determination to make it out of here tonight, with his friend. Holden’s men promptly raised their guns, aiming at Volkov. “I’m here to collect Irish.” Staring at Holden, Dimitri moved the cigar to another corner of his mouth. “Too bad. She’s coming home with me, kid.” Holden was enraged at the choice of word, and that was what Dimitri intended for. Dimitri took one quick glance at the bloodstain on the baseball bat, then at the redhead on the floor, and had to hold his breath. For a second, he thought Lena was already dead, or she looked near death anyway. Holden stared at Dimitri and scoffed. “And I thought you’ve lost all the guts, old man. My father always warned me about you.” He began to chuckle in bitterness. There was almost a certainty that Dimitri also knew about T.S. Cayman, which dared him to come and rescue the Irish. Holden laughed even louder now when there seemed to be nothing he could do but letting them walk away. Dimitri ignored the younger master. He rallied to Lena and slapped her blood-soaked face a few times. “Wake up, Irish. Wake up.” Lena opened her swollen eyelids but closed them again just as fast. Dimitri held her up in his arms and carefully walked towards the warehouse’s entrance, secretly praying that Holden wouldn’t lose it and started shooting them. “Mr. Young!” Burke fidgety whispered to his boss. Holden briskly waved his hand, shutting Burke up. He knew it wasn’t his night. He was reckless in leaving Roland Myer alone. If only he had Roland watched at the moment, he could have killed Dimitri and Lena right now. Holden began to clap his hands, causing Dimitri to turn to look at him. “My father always told me that I should learn it from you, Dimitri. He admired you.” “Bravery can’t be learned. It’s in your heart, kid.” Dimitri then glanced down at the unconscious woman in his arms. “And a friend takes sincerity to make one, not with a gun.” Clenching his fists, Holden watched his enemies disappear into the darkness outside. >>> Out in the field, Dimitri strode towards the car parked about thirty meters away from the warehouse. Oliver quickly opened the door for him, stunned to see his boss in such condition. Dimitri shoved Lena into the back seat and climbed in. Oliver started the engine and drove away into the night. With Lena’s head resting on his laps, Dimitri carefully wiped her face with his handkerchief. Eyes closed, Lena muttered, “Thank you…” “I didn’t do this for you. Sleep. Get some rest, eh?” Dimitri paused for a moment, but he couldn’t help stroking her hair. The Irish was only his daughter’s age, but she had been through so much. Hearing how Gwen and her family were murdered from his friend, Senator Iver, he knew just what made the Irish today. Looking down at her now, he could see her bruised lips curled up slightly, content at his gentle touch. It made him wonder how the young woman would feel if it were Iver comforting her now. After they were on the road for ten minutes, Dimitri looked back through the window of the car, spotting a black car following them. “This kid doesn’t learn. He’s impatient. Impatient!” Dimitri shook his head. He tapped Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver reluctantly handed his gun to Dimitri. He nervously gripped the steering wheel. Before they reached the crowded downtown area, they still had to be extra careful. Dimitri rolled down the window at his side and, with a single shot, blew out a tire of the men’s car, sending it off the small road into the field. Chuckling in triumph, he turned around to catch Oliver’s grin from the rear mirror. He gave the gun back to the young man. “You thought I couldn’t shoot, didn’t you?” “No, sir! I thought you’d get them, sir!” “Although I’m a little rusty after all these years, young man,” Dimitri said proudly. He leaned back in his chair, smiling. “Now, take us home, Oliver. Take us home.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> author’s note : it’s rated R. but again, I don’t like to ruin it for u. :coctail: |
great chapter uhaku :yes:
Mr.Volkov, putting himself at risk to save the irish :eek: it seems he cares about the irish (a little bit at least) after all :) either that, or he knows what'd make yulia happy and even more proud of him :D or maybe both :p lol and :nunu:@young and his men cant wait for an update :D :coctail: |
I don't know why the reluctance about this chapter... was it because of the violence?? I hope not cause living the way the Irish did, it was expected, however what I didn't expect was Dimitri's help. Wonder what he wants in return????
Thanks for the chap as always!! |
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rasoska – yup, in love with Dimitri! :coctail:
showmelove – yeah, I guess it was violence. :) I’m glad it seemed reasonable. mel – I love ur sarcasm! U have a longer list than that though. :eek: Personal note to yohyeeyoh: u gotta go back one page to ur latest update. :kawai: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>> CHAPTER 35 Yulia opened her heavy eyelids and glanced around the dimming room. Seeing the familiar, gold-rimmed, blue wallpapers, she realized that she was already taken back to Roland’s home. She was clueless to what time or day it was. The room must be one of the guestrooms upstairs. There was a large, glassy door to the balcony. The creamy curtains were pulled opened slightly, letting the moonlight in and reflecting it over Dimitri’s blond hair. With a blanket over his laps, the large man was sitting on a leather chair, resting his double chins on his palm, snoring away. Yulia glanced down at the white bandage wrapped around her chest, tainted with a red spot. She didn’t even try to move because it was already hurt. As if on cue, Dimitri’s head dropped, jerking him awake. Yawning, he looked up a little, ready to fall back into slumber. But the twinkling blue eyes in the dark caught him. “Yuli…” “Father…” Yulia smiled weakly. Dimitri steadily rose to his feet and strode towards her. He knelt down beside the bed, taking her hand into his and squeezing it firmly. In the dark, Yulia could see a clear drop sliding down his face. She feebly reached out, catching the teardrop in time. He tilted his head up, gulping back the tears. “It’s all right… I’m all right now…” Dimitri nodded determinedly. “You’re my daughter, Yuli. I shall never let you down,” he stated. He bent a little and rested his head softly against her shoulder. Yulia was extremely exhausted, but she managed to grip her father’s hand back, reassuring him that everything was all right again. She closed her eyes, slowly taking her time to think back. It seemed that the trip to London was temporarily abandoned. All of a sudden, she twitched in her bed, eyes-widened. She promptly fell back down though, wincing as the pain thundered through her chest. “Don’t move, pumpkin! Don’t move! What is it? Do you need something?” Dimitri said urgently. Yulia looked around the room. It was already night time and it should be as quiet as it was. But she somehow didn’t like the silence. It terrified her since she felt she had been in the dark for so long. “Where is everyone else?” She panted. “Not to worry, pumpkin. Everything is all right. Myer is sleeping in the next room. We take turn to look after you.” Yulia’s gaze dropped in disappointment that Lena was not even mentioned. Had the Irish cared not for her at all? Dimitri sighed subtly. “Irish is in her room. She’s very tired. Now, it’s almost midnight. You should go back to sleep.” “How long had I been unconscious?” “About thirty-six hours, sweetheart. Take some more rest, and you’ll feel better in the morning.” Dimitri pecked on Yulia’s forehead. She just nodded absentmindedly. She was so fatigued she didn’t have the energy to be grumpy about anything. She closed her eyes and let herself falling back into sleep. >>> “Yulia… Yulia…” The voice woke Yulia up to another morning. Who was that calling for her? She was too hasty to move, causing the wound to scorch again. Groaning, she let the pain pull her back down to bed. Roland softly put his hands over her shoulders. He studied the blonde for a second, smiling in relief. “You can’t rush anything, lady. Not this time. Good morning, Yulia.” Looking pale, Yulia tried to suppress her heavy breathing. It was as though all her energy was drained out of her body. She could hardly lift her arms. Roland held her hand up and planted a soft kiss upon it. “It was the most honorable thing you did, saving your father’s life.” Yulia gave him a weak smile. She didn’t care if it was honorable. She just thought that it was every daughter’s duty to protect her parents. She loved her father that much. Dimitri was her hero just like her grandfather was to him. The door creaked opened, and Yulia’s face instantly beamed. It should be the person she was waiting to show up. But she froze, not by the pain, but the sight of Angela holding the tray into the room. The honorable maid had returned. “What is she doing here?” Yulia wasn’t sure if her voice was steady. Roland helped Yulia to sit up and gestured Angela to put the tray of food over Yulia’s thighs. “As you know, the economy isn’t going uphill anytime soon. Angela couldn’t find a better job than returning to your father. You should be glad to have your old maid back. She knows how to serve you well.” She knows exactly how to please her master. Yulia fought to keep her face straight. “Get well soon, ma’am.” Angela smiled at her. Roland held up the glass of warm milk for Yulia, and she sipped it slowly, glaring as the maid leave the room. She now knew why Lena was so busy, having no time to come see her. >>> Later in the day, Yulia was stubborn enough to get herself out of bed. She would rather walk with a cane, but Roland insisted her on a wheelchair. Angela was to be the one who took care of her. That suited Yulia just fine. The maid would wheel her to New York if she demanded so! In the wheelchair, Yulia had Angela combing her hair in front of the mirror. Ever since Angela walked back into her life, Yulia felt her dark energy rushing back to her, ready for any fight ahead. Yulia studied Angela’s calm face in the reflection. She wondered if the maid knew anything about her and Lena, if Lena thought it was anything at all. She watched Angela some more, noting the Latino’s beauty, which disgusted her even more so. “Where have you been after you left the ranch?” Yulia broke the silence. Angela continued to comb the silky blonde hair. “I worked in a market for a while before I found a job in a textile factory. But it didn’t go well, ma’am. The workers are still on strike.” “How did you know my father is residing here with Mr. Myer?” “I am Oliver’s friend, ma’am. When he told me what happened two days ago, I came back to Mr. Volkov to offer my service to him. He has always been so nice to me, and I should serve him when he needs it.” Yulia pretended to nod approvingly. “Are you hungry, ma’am? It’s lunch time now.” Yulia was so bothered in the morning she only touched the glass of milk. After two days of absolutely nothing in her stomach but pills, she felt in need of refreshment. “Oh…” Yulia’s head dropped. “I don’t think you can wheel me downstairs… but I don’t want to eat here!” “Already back and feisty, my little pumpkin!” Dimitri showed up at the door, beaming. He had a tray in his hands. Angela rushed to her master to take the tray herself. She looked around, unsure where to put it. “I don’t want to eat here—” “But it’s not wise to walk now, Yuli. You’re not well enough.” “I am well enough—no, father!” Grinning, Dimitri wheeled his daughter back to bed. He carefully held her up and laid her on the bed. Angela promptly put the tray over Yulia. Yulia grumbled inwardly and began to eat when she decided that her father would not budge. All of a sudden, a painful scream echoed down the hallway, slipping in through the open door to Yulia’s room. Yulia instantly looked up, remembering well whose voice it was. “What is that…?” Yulia’s face turned pale in an instant. “It’s nothing, pumpkin—” “It’s Lena. What happened?” Yulia stared at her father. Dimitri quickly sat down beside her, putting his hands on both side of her body. Yulia knew that her father was trying to lock her up in here. She began to move, but the pain stung again. She grunted as she slowed down. “Stay still, Yuli! Irish is fine! She’s fine!” Yulia looked up at Angela, who was still staring out into the hallway, distraught hung heavily on the maid’s face. “No, she’s not!” Yulia ignored the pain and tried to get up. Another scream, almost in anger, filled up the corridor, where many men were gathered around. They were muttering something to one another, looking stunned and upset. Yulia could see a few nurses running up and down the stairway, holding some stainless trays in their hands. There was no mistake of those bloody sponges on the trays. Dimitri pushed his daughter down as softly as he could. The blonde couldn’t resist his force. She slumped back down on the bed, wheezing. “You don’t want to see her now,” Dimitri said grimly. “I thought you said everyone was fine! What happened to her!?” Something was terribly wrong. Yulia had never heard Lena cry like that even when she was shot. “After she gunned down the man who shot you at the train station, she was put in jail for further trial. We tried to bail her out, but Holden had his men bribed the police and brought her to a warehouse. They beat her up rather bad.” “How bad is it?” Yulia’s voice shook. She would never have expected that a beating could make Lena scream like that. Dimitri glanced at Angela, who looked down on the floor. “Let me see her, father,” Yulia pleaded. Dimitri shook his head, but Yulia kept pulling his arm. “Please!” “She’s in no state to receive any guest, darling. I’m speaking this for her good, not yours. Be good for a few days, and I’ll allow you to see her.” Dimitri released his arm from Yulia’s grip. He gave Angela a look and left the room. Angela closed the door and hesitantly turned to look at Yulia. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you? Tell me how she is.” The maid must have guessed about their secret affair by now. It was that obvious. But Yulia couldn’t care less at the moment. “Your father was right, ma’am. She needs to be left alone for a while—” “I don’t want my father this—my father that! What is going on!?” Angela froze at her little master’s rage, which she had never witnessed before, not this serious. She looked down. “Umm, her right ribcage is—what word could describe it? I mean… you can see the bones sticking out…and…” Yulia blinked a few times, holding her breath. “She had a severe head injury. We don’t know the extent of the wound just yet. And it might take a long while before her right hand would heal. The worst case is that she might not be able to use it again… She also lost her left eyesight, ma’am. I believe she has just found out a moment ago.” Yulia sat absolutely still in her spot, unable to believe what she was hearing. Her mind rushed back to those few days before she left for Central Station; had she been brave enough to face farewell. Things would have been different only if Lena did not follow her to the platform. “Will she live…?” Yulia whispered the question she most feared its answer. Angela didn’t reply straight away until Yulia shot her an intense glare. “The doctor is doing all he can, ma’am. We all wish her the best.” >>> The night fell ever so agonizingly slow to Yulia. She had acted calm enough to fool her father to leave her alone. She closed her eyes and waited until the house would quiet down. But hours past like days she could barely hold it. Sharply at one o’clock in the morning, she carefully climbed out of the bed and made her way towards the door. Her face twisted as she suppressed her yawn. She opened the door just a little at first, peeping out. There were three men guarding at each end of the corridors. They instantly spotted her, but kept quiet. They wouldn’t want to get involved in their bosses’ private business. >>> The door at the end of the corridor creaked opened. Yulia slipped into the room and quickly shut it. Angela looked up, puzzled. Yulia pressed a finger over her own mouth, ordering the maid to shut up. Angela fidgety shifted in her chair before walking towards the door, knowing that she had to leave her master some privacy. “Five minutes, ma’am,” Angela whispered grudgingly. “Ten. Go,” Yulia hissed, and shut the door in Angela’s face as quietly as possible. Yulia grunted inwardly as the pain resurfaced around her wound. She felt a sharp heat piercing through her chest, causing her to halt for a moment. She bit her lips and moved clumsily towards the bed. As always, she wouldn’t let anything stop her without putting up a fight. With faint blue light coming through the curtains, Yulia stared down at the prone form on the bed. Even though her eyes had adjusted to the dimness in the room, she still could not recognize the face before her. Half of Lena’s face was swelling up and deep purple. Her left eyelid was severely cut and shut tightly. The left cheekbone and the right corner of her lips were badly bruised. There was a bandage wrapped around her forehead, but a long, deep cut slashed down to her right brow was still visible. Her right leg was in a cast, and right arm was wrapped, hanging tightly with a cloth around her neck, restraining all movement of the right side of her body. Seeing just Lena’s face, Yulia couldn’t make herself to lift open the blanket. The description of the wound Angela told her earlier today was enough. Although she would prefer Lena in the hospital, it was safer here. Roland had handsomely paid Doctor Sheridan to stay here twenty-four/seven. “Hey, you…” Yulia’s head shot up at the coarse whisper. “I knew… you’d come.” “Oh, you are bragging again!” Chuckling, Yulia instantly brushed the tears from her eyes and knelt down, taking Lena’s limping hand. Lena was able to open both eyes, though not fully, but she had to turn her head slightly to the left. Yulia knew why, so she bent over a little, ignoring her own pain. “They told me you’re all right…” “Yes, I’m fine now, and you’re going to be as well.” Yulia put up a brave smile, squeezing Lena’s hand. Lena tried to assert some pressure on Yulia’s hand, tightening their grip on each other. “They told me… a lot of things…” Yulia rested her cheek on Lena’s arm, dreamily watching the pale hand in front of her. She couldn’t help but gave out a long yawn. “What kind of things?” she asked, playing with their intervening fingers. Lena finally gave up, letting her head fall back to its previous post. Yulia was out of her line of sight now, but she could do nothing to help it. “They said…you’re a tough… tough woman… You’ll be just fine…” “Go on.” A smile spread across Yulia’s face. She couldn’t tell how happy she was to know that the Irish had asked about her. “They wondered… if you might consider… learning how to shoot…” Yulia laughed lightly. “Of course, if you’ll teach me.” She glanced up and stared at Lena’s right hand that was wrapped tightly in a white bandage. She quickly looked down again. Eyes closed now, the Irish was mumbling in her sleep, washed away in her fragmented thoughts. “I… I can see… you’ll live to be… an old… and stubborn… You…” Shutting her eyes, Yulia rested her head beside Lena’s arm. Although the hard floor wasn’t where she wanted to spend the rest of the night at, she couldn’t seem to move now. Her head felt lighter and her eyelids heavier. She was dreaming away to the day that had yet to come. “I’ll live to that day with you, and no one else.” Before long, Yulia felt a hand extricating hers from Lena’s. She wished to protest, but failed even to open her eyes. A pair of strong arms then lifted her up from the floor. From the familiar smell of perfume, it could be no one else but Dimitri Volkov. She just smiled in his arms, contented in her little prayer. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>> CHAPTER 36 It was already one o’clock in the morning, roughly seventy years later. I was still sitting on the same couch, which was kept in an excellent condition, where Dimitri Volkov and Victor Iver once sat upon. And the old Volkova still kept that promise to this day. She had lived with no one else but the Irish, in her heart. But she was fighting it all alone, while time was running out. A tear rolled down the old woman’s cheek and dropped onto the back of her hand, refusing to dissolve over her rough, pale skin. Seasons kept changing, and years had shown no mercy, taking away her youth and will to fight the loneliness and doubt. Everyone fell into silence, wrapped in the blankets provided by the maids. But Kate promptly moved beside Volkova, softly grabbing the old woman’s hand and brushing the teardrop away. I thought that was the wisest thing young Kate had done all evening. I looked out the window into the darkness once more, secretly wishing that someone would walk through the front gate and finally fulfill the long await promise. I never expected that the person would be me. |
...what can I say?...it's simply great!...very well writen...I almost cryed reading Lena's description after she'd been beaten...and then the old volkova...man.....that's soooo sad...
...But how come that young girl, Lena, is the one that Yulia was waiting for...maybe because she brought the Irish journal?...I don't know what more can I say...I'm kinda speachless right now... |
That last line has left me wondering.....The young Lena is the one to fulfill the promise????
Thanks for the update, the Irish did take one hell of a beating. I'll wander off now and patiently await the next update! |
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