Page 1 of Mobster's Home

1.

Luna

It’s a big world out there and I’m supposed to be a big girl, yet I feel like bursting into tears as I hop onto the metro. People shove at me left and right, trying to get ahead and I wonder what happened to basic decency when a man nearly knocks down a stroller in his eagerness to get a seat.

Did someone squeeze humanity out of everyone when we weren’t looking and now it’s all about dog eat dog? Popping down on a seat, I wrap my coat tighter around me and drag an annoyed breath. This is a fifteen minute ride home but I want it to go on forever. I don’t want to go home, I’m cold when I’m at home, the radiators are not working properly and there’s a leak in the ceiling that my landlord claims I’m solely responsible for. I have no idea how the heck I’m supposed to have caused it but reasoning with him is useless.

I do not look forward to my cold, hard bed especially not after a long day like this one. While I am lucky to have a wonderful job, I still wish I could be fortunate enough to move out of my dump. For a while I had a roommate but he kept leaving crumbs everywhere and refused to pay half his rent, so that experiment ended in a disaster. He didn’t make much of a fuss when I asked him to leave but what he did do was rob me of all my savings. I’m not sure how but somehow he found out the PIN to my credit card and went full on reverse Robin Hood, to my detriment.

I’d intended to use those savings to get a better place but now I’m back on square one again and I sigh to soothe the overwhelm. They say things always work out in the end and I just have to believe it and think positively. I rub my hands together for some warmth since its always chilly sitting on these plastic seats, and I shiver when cold air blows over my knees when the doors open again.

A stream of new people enter, senior citizens snacking on hard bonbons, a group of rambunctious teens, Wall Street brokers as well as two men that ruthlessly tower over everyone else. They catch my attention, probably without even meaning to and I squirm in my seat at the sight of them, my heart thrashing when I get a look at the profile of the taller one. He seems to be deep in thought, brows aggressively curving over eyes resembling the northern lights. His lashes are inky, cheekbones high and cold in an arrogant way, his undercut hair a mixture of silver blond and black and it’s the only thing on him that looks touchable.

He’s too harsh otherwise, sharper than the edge of a midlevel weapon and he has to be the kind of man that cuts people in two with just a look. Power emits from his persona and it’s as if I can smell darkness on him but instead of screaming at me to run the other way, it urges me to come closer. My skin suddenly begins feeling itchy, my throat dry and I’m not the only one who has reacted to the man. The whole metro canfeelhim, people clutching their purses tighter to their chests while throwing nervous glances at each other.

The man’s made an impression on everyone and it’s not necessarily a good one. It feels as if something’s about to go down and I gulp, trying to thinkhappy thoughts, happy thoughts...Here I was working hard to be positive, yet this is what I attracted; a male who looks like his heart is black instead of red. The lights flicker as the men push their way down and it only adds to their ferocity, causing people to make themselves as small as possible to not get noticed. My pulse races as the two men prowl over to a slouching male sitting opposite me, two seats to the left and they sort of surround him.

“Hello John boy,” the tall man purrs, baring his teeth and he looks down at him while his partner clenches his fists. The man called John looks about ten times more panicky than the rest of us, his face pale, his lips the same color as chalk. “You’re coming with us at the next stop,” the tall, Viking looking one continues. “We have business we need to take care of, remember?”

John nods frantically, biting into his lip and I let out a squeak when he draws blood. The silver haired man throws an annoyed look over his shoulder that quickly morphs into something else. I lose my breath when our eyes meet and I don’t know if he wants to kill me or do other things to me that are just as physical but not as violent.

I sharply avert my gaze, pretending we didn’t just stare at each other for what had to have been at least thirty seconds while my blood keeps running hot and cold. I glance at the other passengers, registering their uneasiness and I can just tell these two men have bad intentions.

Trembling, I throw a distressed peek at the tall man who’s still watching me with a perplexed look in his eyes as if he’s fallen into a trance. I wonder if he’s mad at me and if he’s going to deal with me right after John.

We come to a stop again and I quit breathing. John tenses when he’s grabbed around the upper arm and the other man says, “Derex?”

That’s his name then.Derex.I get the strangest, non-self-preserving impulse to taste his name on my tongue but then the man shakes his head. “You two go, I’m staying right here.”

He’s not getting off and I don’t know whether I’m thrilled or terrified. My mind’s trying to warn me that this isn’t the safest situation but I feel dreamily numb around him, as if I’m about to throw myself into the abyss, only to find out the abyss will always catch me.

Whoever the dangerous man is, something deep inside of him is calling out to something deep inside of me and he wants me to answer his demand. There’s an eruption in my chest and I’m drawn to him like a magnet. A flush rises on my face and he notices, his nostrils flaring and it’s as if he’s just scented me.

I cross my legs when I feel a sharp flicker of arousal. This man...as intimidating and full of menace as he is, I know there’s no going back after this. I have caught his attention and I think I’m...wanted.

****

Derex

I’ve been jabbed in the heart and the darkness is bleeding out, no longer as determined for me to be its master. All this time, I’ve been slumbering but now I am awakened. I know who’s responsible for this new sensation: The girl sitting on her seat with her legs crossed and an anxious look on her face. Her eyes are green as moss, her hair the color of ripe apricots and it falls down her shoulders in a way that makes me want to wrap my hand around the strands a couple of times and tug...hear that surprised little gasp and feel reborn in its innocence. In the mob, we all seek for a white queen to our dark king and I think I just found mine.

“Derex...,” my colleague Hertz says and I raise my brow as my attention’s brutally pulled away from the girl. I don’t like it and I don’t want to think about work right now. There are more important things to take care of.

“I’m not coming,” I whisper and he grimaces, yanking John out of his seat and I cup Hertz around the neck, throwing him what I hope looks like a smile. “Careful now. There’s a girl watching us and I don’t want her thinking I’m a bad guy and get scared.”

“Good luck,” Hertz drawls and my grip hardens. “You are a bad guy.”

“Yeah but I don’t want her knowing that, you idiot. You will walk out of here with John. Deal with this on your own and while you do I want you smiling as if you’re about to take a walk in the park,” I add and Hertz looks like he has a curse on his tongue but he knows better than to get on my bad side. He nods, now holding onto John in a way that’s less aggressive and they walk away.

“See ya,” I call, ginning and raising my hand in a wave, “football game at my place next week. John, once you get your act together, you bring the beer.”

John’s ready to faint but Hertz nods and smiles but fuck why does he have to look like a shark when he smiles? It seems to work though, because everyone breathes out, buying our bad acting. My eyes immediately go to the girl and she watches me as if stunned but at least the panicky look on her face is gone. I sit down opposite her and suddenly she regards me differently, there’s some curiosity in her now and she’s got that look a child has when not knowing whether an animal is friendly or not but they’re prepared to find out. Redness crawls from her throat up to her face and she lets out a gasp, looking away and I wish she hadn’t done that.

I feel drawn to her and I’m desperate to know if she feels the same. It’s obvious she’s not the kind of girl who goes for men like me. There are no tangles in her princess hair, barely any makeup on her porcelain features and she’s dressed in a floor length floral skirt, a knitted cardigan and a thin coat.

I’m not sure how I feel about all that wholesomeness. Girls like her go for tender males that don’t even know how to give a good, stiff fuck without coming immediately. Girls like her like men who are ballerinas, or bakers or librarians and they’re less into towering murderers from the north. Using sheer willpower, I try to get her to look at me and I flash a smile when she finally does.

The girl cowers, her eyes widening and she lets out a low whimper. Wondering what’s gotten into her, I catch my own reflection in the window behind her and now I know what the problem is. If Hertz looks like a shark when he smiles then I look like the megalodon. My smile dies and the girl relaxes, her eyes going to my hands that killed only a couple of hours ago, but the redness on her face increases and she bites her lip as if she just thought of something shameful. I’m madly intrigued and I’d sell my own kidney for some insight into the thoughts in her head.

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