Deadly Mafia Bonds

Chapter 6 - Guilt

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Six months later

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Declan

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“Mmh…” she moans in complaint, holding me tighter. “Can’t we just stay in bed the whole day?”

“You know I would love nothing more-” I reply, leaning down, pressing my lips against hers, and she responds to the kiss immediately, trying to deepen it, but I pull back, “-but we can’t. He’ll arrive in an hour, and I must fetch him from the airport. You also need to be home when he arrives.” I remind her, and her face immediately falls. She pushes me back by my chest and sits up, pulling the sheets to her chest. “Come on now, don’t be like that,” I say, reaching over to touch her, but she repels, upset even though she knows what I'm saying is true.

“You know, we hardly ever spend a full month together before he has to go away again, but that doesn’t make it easy. I dread every single minute that I have to pretend to love him. And yet, it seems easy for you to push me right into his arms.”

“Bab-” I try to speak, but she cuts me off.

“Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if you still love me or if this has become purely business with you now. I used to have to beg you to let me go, but now, I have to beg you to stay,” she says, her voice coming out softer at the end, tears gleaming in her eyes.

I reach out, cupping her face, and lean in, capturing her lips in a feverish kiss. She doesn’t respond immediately, but I continue until she does. After a long moment, we pull back, and I look her in the eye, my hands still on her face. “I hate having to watch you do this. I hate sending you to him, but we are committed to this now. We have to finish it, and we can’t screw it up. We’re almost done, baby. I love you, and I’m sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

“I love you too,” she replies, and a smile makes its way onto her face as she leans in to connect our lips again, into a quick kiss this time.

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I glance at my watch, and it’s 8 pm. I hope she’s still up. I didn’t call to say I was coming, and we don’t usually see each other during the week, but I just had to see her. I want to get this thing with Clint over and done with already, but Miranda keeps asking me to wait and then turn around and complain again. I told her we should take care of that stupid detective, but she felt it would make things worse, so I let her do things her way.

Miranda and I are engaged, and the plan is for us to get married after this job. When I met Miranda a few years ago, she was married to my older brother. My brother was a jerk, and he and I never got along since we were kids. One day, I went to his place to confront him about something he did, but I heard a woman’s screams as I stepped out of my car. I rushed inside to find him choking the life out of her. He had apparently found out that she was stealing money from him, and if there was anything my brother loved more than anything, it was his money.

After getting him off of her, he became enraged and charged at me. We started fighting, but next, he just went rigid in my arms, his eyes wide. Blood spewed out of his mouth, and he stumbled, grabbing my arms. I held him, frowning at him, confused as to what was happening, but he fell to his knees, revealing a trembling Miranda with bloody hands. A knife was plunged deep into his back, and I felt all the power draining from my body as I followed him to my knees. I panicked and took out the knife as I cradled him. I tried to press on his wound as blood kept gushing out while screaming at Miranda to call an ambulance, but she never did. She just stood rooted in one spot, trembling.

My brother died in my arms, and I was never the same again. Yes, we didn’t get along, but he was still my brother. I would never have killed him. I loved him. I fell apart and tried to call the Police, but Miranda stopped me. She told me the police might not believe it was self-defense, and I could lose my family as they might blame me since it was a well-known fact that we didn’t get along. I had threatened to kill him in front of a full house the previous weekend. I didn’t mean it, I was just angry, but no one knew that. So, realizing she was right, I cut the call, and we ended up burying him in the backyard. I went on a downward spiral after that, and if it weren’t for Miranda having my back, I would have exposed myself and ended up in jail anyway.

She shared the money she got from his estate with me, and from there on, we started getting closer and closer, bonding over our deadly secret. Together, we had found ways to cope, but they were expensive, and before we knew it, we had blown all the money. Because there wasn’t any coming in, we had no backup plan and found ourselves broke again.

There was this guy who was friends with my brother but was constantly hitting on Miranda. When my brother died, he pursued her even more, promising her the world. That’s when this whole idea of marrying wealthy men for their money was born. After we saw how easy it was to take him for everything and then get rid of him, we didn’t look back again. We were in business. We targeted rich men without families; we were dropping them like flies. I did all the killing while Miranda took care of the seducing part. I always made it look like an accident, and it seemed to work until one detective, Zwane, came knocking on Miranda’s door. An ex-wife of one of the men we had killed suspected Miranda, but she couldn’t prove it. After that, Miranda became spooked, and we laid low for a while. Until this Clint guy came our way, inspiring us to do one last job.

But this last job has been so frustrating that even if we hadn’t agreed for it to be our last one, it would be. I have never been so stressed and frustrated in my whole life. Ever since his daughter ran away, Clint’s been nagging me non-stop for six months. No wonder Miranda can’t take it anymore. Between him and that Oliver brat, they make me want to murder more people, brutally, in cold blood.

I shake my head, trying to clear the evil thoughts away. I don’t want any evil to be lurking in my eyes when I look at her. After ringing her doorbell three times, I finally hear shuffling on the other side. “The door rips open, and she throws herself at me, almost knocking me off.”

We share a long passionate kiss, and I use my foot to close the door before carrying her to the bedroom. We roughly land on the bed, the kiss now hungrier as we quickly get rid of the pieces of fabric that separate our bodies.

Our breaths are heavy as I pull back to look into her beautiful, innocent eyes, gently caressing her flushed cheek. “I love you,” I tell her, my voice coming out husky. “And I love you,” she breathly replies before leaning in and connecting our lips. The kiss heats up again as my tongue explores every corner of her sweet mouth, my hands not getting enough of her silky soft skin. She moans as I leave her lips, trailing kisses down to her chest before capturing her soft, tender n****e in my mouth, gently licking and sucking on it, causing her breath to hitch. My hands trail down to her inner thighs, and I find myself groaning before cursing, “f**k!” as my fingers take on a life of their own, slowly sinking deeper into her treasure hole. “Ahh!” she moans louder, arching her back as I move them in and out of her, driving her insane.

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I wake up and reach for my phone to check the time, careful not to wake Mera. It’s 4:30 am, and I have to get up and start my excruciating day. I place a gentle kiss on her head and carefully shift her to the bed. I get up and head to the shower for a quick one. When I come out, I find her sitting up on the bed, leaning on the headboard. “Hey, what are you doing? Go back to sleep.” I lean in to give her a quick kiss on the lips. “Would you like me to make you some breakfast?” she asks, ignoring that I just asked her to go back to sleep. “No, baby, it’s too early. I’ll grab something at work a bit later. But thank you for the offer,” she nods, her lips pursed. I wish I could stay and have breakfast with her; it must get very lonely, considering she doesn’t have any family here and knows only me. But I can’t. I shouldn’t have asked her to move down here; I was selfish. I should have let her stay in Joburg with her sister until I have sorted out all my s**t. A text comes through on my phone while I’m busy getting dressed, and I check it. Seeing Miranda on the screen immediately puts me off, and I quickly put the screen off before placing it down again. The last thing I need is to be reminded of who I am.

I can’t wait to be done with this, so I can break our engagement and finally be with the woman I love. As soon as I get my share, I’m taking Mera, and we’re getting far away from this place. Meeting Mera has changed me; she’s given me a new perspective on life. I love her, and her pure heart makes me want to become a better man for her. I know I can never undo all the horrible things I've done, but still, I want to try and be better than I am now, at least. Miranda will be devastated when I break our engagement. I know how much she loves me and how much she’s looking forward to our marriage, but I can’t marry her. I’m in love with someone else now, and I want her to be my wife and the mother of my kids.

I used to love Miranda; in fact, I still do, but not in a romantic way anymore. I don’t enjoy stringing her along. I still care about her, but I also know her, and I’ll die before I let anything happen to Mera. I also can’t have her lose focus now, not when we’re this close. I bend down to pick up my shirt from the couch, but I notice a newspaper article with Caitlin’s face on it. I look at the date, and it's from six months ago. My heart immediately sinks, and I look back at Mera to find her looking at me. “Mera, baby, you need to stop doing this to yourself.” I head over to the bed and sit next to her.

“I’m trying, but I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Because you’re not allowing yourself to forget. You’re torturing yourself with reminders.” I tear the newspaper in half before getting up and throwing it in the bin.

“I should have called the police. I knew something was wrong, but I let her off in the middle of the night with a baby. What if they got hurt or-”

“Hey, stop this, please. You didn’t know her situation. And who knows, maybe her family found her.”

“No, they didn’t. Her pictures are still online and-”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, Mera. Baby, please find a way and move past this,” I tell her, pulling her against my chest, drenched in guilt. Mera doesn’t know I work for Caitlin’s father or how close I am to the family. She doesn’t know much about my life. I only tell her what she needs to know. Her fragile heart would never be able to handle the truth about whom I really am. She’d be horrified if she knew what I’ve done, and she’d detest me.

Ever since Oliver’s men came to question her about Caitlin after she and her cousins gave her a lift, she’s been blaming herself, feeling like she should have called the Police.

My phone rings, and we pull back from the hug. I pick it up, and it’s Miranda again. I kiss Mera goodbye and head out, deciding to take the call on the way to the car.

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Miranda

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I exhale, placing my hand on my chest after speaking to Declan, my heart drumming in my ears and my stomach in knots. Yesterday afternoon on the news, I saw that detective Zwane was involved in a shoot-out and is in critical condition. I know he was probably not looking into me alone, but still, this improves my chances of getting away by a great deal. Declan and I weren’t going to stick around forever after completing this job anyway. We need to stay long enough to finish all the processes and then disappear. I can’t wait to get it over with, so I can finally marry the man I love and be happy at last. My lips stretch into a smile at that, but next, a small scream escapes my mouth as I jump, startled by Clint’s voice behind me.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to startle you,” he says, pulling me into a hug before cupping my face with a concerned frown. “Are you alright? You seem a little jumpy. Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing; I’m fine, honey. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, cos you’ve been like this since last night?”

“Yes, I’m certain. It’s nothing. What’s this?” I ask, looking at his tablet, trying to change the topic. I’ve been doing this for a while now, but whenever it’s time, my conscience always tries to kick in and remind me of how wrong what I’m doing is.

“It’s actually what I came to show you. It’s my speech for the event,” he says, handing it over to me. Clint and I are going to this fundraiser today. For the past six months, he’s been donating more and more money to orphanages. It’s like it’s his coping mechanism, and it frustrates the hell out of me cos it’s an expensive one. Why couldn’t he just go drink himself to death or something instead of spending my money? “It’s beautiful, honey,” I tell him after making it as if I'm reading it and give him a peck on the lips, also handing him back the tablet.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being the incredible woman that you are. I know being with me has been hell since… everything that’s happened. Thank you for being here and putting up with me, supporting me.”

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to thank me, I’m your wife, and it’s my job to support you and be here for you,” I tell him, pulling him into a hug, not interested in this conversation. It’s a relief to know it’s the last time we’re ever having it. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be a free woman.

“I miss her so much, and the more time that passes, the more my heart bleeds. I should never have done what I did, and I pray that God gives me another chance to do better. I hope he gives me another chance to apologize to my daughter and be the best grandfather I should have been. I pray for a chance to hold them in my arms and tell them how much I love them,” he says as we pull back from the hug.

“He will, trust in him. He sees your suffering, and he will reunite you with them soon,” I tell him, pulling him into another hug, unable to look him in the eye any longer.