“Come Back To Me”
Summary:
"I hope you remember me. I hope you see something that reminds you of me. And I hope you smile and remember the memories we created together. And I hope your throat tightens up, and it finally hits you..." I felt a tear burning down my cheek
"You never should have let me go."
I slammed the phone down, my breathing was heavy, like someone was standing on my chest.
I glanced outside, and stared at the rain that fell in sync with my tears.
Come back to me, Sinister.
***
Sinister Velkov was the leader of the Russian Mafia, after falling in love with a beautiful girl named Calla, he couldn't keep himself away. They fell in love, and got married. He thought he could protect her from the dangerous life of being a mob bosses wife. But he was wrong, no one is safe from the drugs, guns and death of organized crime. So he sent her away, hoping to keep her safe, promising to never see her again...
Loving someone is a sacrifice, you give them the power to destroy you, and that's exactly what they do.
Sinister Velkov was the Devil himself, but everyone knows...the Devil was once an angel.
CHAPTER 1
Alright, Calla, you're a sexy, single, 18-year old baddie. You got this.
I took in a deep breath, pouring in the detergent, slamming the machine door closed and clicking the ON button.
Suck it laundry.
"Calla, what the f**k are you doing?"
I turned to find my friend Rachel grinning at me, her brown hair was pulled into two tight braids, her green eyes full of amusement.
"I'm doing laundry." I shrugged, walking out of the laundry room and into the kitchen.
Sinister left me 3 months ago, and it sucked. He bought me an apartment in Miami, gave me a s**t ton of money, and left me. He told me he'd never see me again, and it hurt.
I had allowed myself to fall in love with the devil himself, because I knew...the devil was once an angel. But if there was an angelic part left inside of him, he hid it well. He married me, giving me a ring that was supposed to be a promise, but he took that promise away from me and left me. He said he did it to keep me safe, to take me away from all of the dangers of being a mob bosses wife.
I was doing okay. I made a friend, Rachel, I met her a month ago at the supermarket. I was buying tampons when I saw her sitting in a shopping cart pretending to be Pocahontas. We've been friends ever since. I even invited her to live in my apartment with me, because it had 4 bedrooms and made me feel like I was living in the Playboy mansion...by myself.
"Yo!" Rachel shouted, prancing into the kitchen and hopping up on the counter.
I opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of chocolate milk, "What?"
"What ever happened to your boyfriend that you told me about?" She asked, peeling apart a banana.
"He left me." I shrugged.
She made a confused face, "He left you? Sorry, that's kinda hard to believe. You're hot as fuck."
I puffed out my cheeks, running a hand through my hair, "Yeah. We couldn't be together, I guess."
"Did you love each other?"
"I loved him" I muttered "It's been months and I still think about him everyday. I'm pissed at him for leaving me, but sometimes I'm thankful that at least he came into my life and gave me hope again."
I glanced at the tiled floor, "Being in love was the best thing I ever felt."
She shoved the banana in her mouth, deep throating that s**t like it was johnny Depp’s d**k.
"Well" she smiled at me chewing on the banana, "People don't forget girls like you. They try. But I don't they will ever forget what your love felt like."
I smiled at her, thankful for her kind words.
I was always thinking about him. I found myself looking for him everywhere. Every once in a while, I think I see him, and get stabbed by the memories of him. But then I realize that he's never coming back. He left me, and he's never coming back.
There are nights I cry so hard that my body aches, I shake so hard that I shove my head in my pillow and scream so that nobody hears me. There are also those rare nights that I'm happy, those nights that I think about him in the best way possible. Then, there are nights where I feel nothing at all.
But there is never a night where I don't think about him.
"Okay, lil miss depression" Rachel grinned at me, hopping off of the counter "we're going out tonight."
I sipped at my chocolate milk, "talk to me, Beyonce, where are we going?"
"There's a party at the beach. Ya know, drugs, drinks, and s*x. Do you wanna go?"
I gripped the glass in my hands, "Last time I went to a party I got ditched by my best friends."
"Okay, mama Russia. Let me tell you something, I may be a total b***h, and I may make fake phone calls in public to pretend like I actually have friends. But, I'm not a ditcher. I don't ditch."
I sighed, Sinister would want me to stay at home, make nice friends, and do nice girl things. Not party on the beach, not get drunk and high among strangers.
"f**k it, let's go." I grinned.
***
"I LOOK LIKE THE SLUTTY LINDSEY LOHAN FROM MEAN GIRLS!" I shrieked, glancing at my black crop top and booty shorts in the mirror.
Rachel pranced over to me, standing behind me as she looked in the mirror.
"Noo, you look like the Lindsey Lohan from parent trap, the little virgin Lohan."
False. 12-year old Lohan doesn't wear booty shorts.
Rachel ruffled my ink black hair, walking closer to the mirror as she applied lipstick.
My girl looked good as f**k, she had on a peach tank top with white ripped jeans. The outfit showed of her ass, which was hella nice. Her green eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner.
"You ready, father?" She asked, grabbing her purse.
"I am not your priest."
"You're right" she nodded "priests don't get me as horny as you do."
"Wow you're funny." I grinned at her, grabbing my white Michael Kors purse and following her out the door.
***
The party was in full swing when we got there, there were hundreds of college kids, kegs, red solo cups, and the stench of weed.
"Okay!" Rachel turned to me, "always remain in eyesight of each other. No going home with anyone, and no cocaine. Miami kids love cocaine."
I grinned and nodded, thankful to have a loyal friend for once.
Loud music was blasting as we kicked off our shoes and ran towards the crowds of people. I made us drinks, handing Rachel a plastic cup full to the brim of Fireball whiskey. Classy, I know.
We danced like complete bimbos, giggling like school children as we made our way into the pit of kids. Our hands raised high in the air as we danced to the music.
I grinned at Rachel, downing the last of my drink as I began to feel the warm haze of the alcohol. Thoughts of Sinister began to drift away. If you can't be happy, at least be drunk.
"Hey, hey, hey CALLA!!" Rachel screamed "meet my friend Jack!"
"hey, beautiful!" A guy squeezed his way next to me, the stench of weed and alcohol clung to him. He was cute enough, with sandy blonde hair and the kind of body that made you want to start working out. He was muscular like John Cena.
"hey blondie." I grinned at him, swaying to the music.
"Want to smoke some weed?" He asked, giving me the kind of smile that made me want to start praying to lord Jesus.
Sinister wouldn't want me to.
I glanced at Rachel's smiling face, "Hell yeah!"
Jack attack motioned for us to follow him, his tall figure bobbing in between drunk college kids as he led us away from the party. I grabbed a bottle of liquor as we walked past a group of retards vaping.
I need it more than they do.
Rachel and I followed blondie, trudging through the sand until we were underneath the pier.
"Where’s the weed?" I asked, running a hand through my hair, attempting to act sober. We stood under the pier, the night air was cool, the sound of waves crashing flooded my ears.
"My guy's meeting us." He grinned at me.
"Your boyfriend?"
The smile left his face, "No, my dealer."
I licked my bottom lip, "does he deal you d**k? That's hot."
Rachel busted out laughing, her green eyes watering as she stumbled slightly.
Jack's tan face blushed slightly, "No, Russia, he's not dealing me d**k. He's deals weed."
Same thing.
"We should get back to the party." I said, clutching my arms to my chest, in a failed attempt at keeping myself warm.
"The party's here, darlin'." A deep voice said.
I froze at the familiar voice behind me. Sebastian. The guy I owed my life to. The man that helped me escape from my psychotic ex boyfriend, and demented older brother. The Russian man that was apart of the Bratva gang.
I turned around, slowly. Taking in his familiar appearance, spiky bleach blonde hair, tall, lean build, hazel eyes and long lashes. He had that same goofy smile plastered on his face, the one that I remembered so well from Russia.
My mouth hung open, and I said nothing. My current state of mind was very tipsy, and confused as f**k.
"Russia, this is Sebastian, my dealer." Jack said, his tone was prideful. Good for you bud, you're the middle man for a mediocre m*******a dealer.
"Hey Calla." Sebastian grinned, I knew he loved how surprised I was. His heavy Russian accent laced his words.
Rachel smiled, "Oh, you guys know each other? Calla, I thought you told me you don't really smoke that much."
I finally found my voice, "I-I don't. Sebastian's a friend from Russia."
"Well" Jack piped up "why don't we celebrate this reunion with a little weed?" He patted Sebastian on the back.
Sebastian sent me an amused little smirk, before pulling off his backpack, and handing jack a fat joint.
Jack immediately lit up the joint, taking a long ass hit before passing it to Rachel.
"So Calla" Sebastian smiled "How have you been, how's Sinister?"
I winced slightly at his words, "We're not, ah, we're not together anymore."
His expression went from amused to surprised, "That's...surprising."
"WHOA" Rachel put her arm around me, "your ex's name was Sinister? That's so hot."
He wasn't my boyfriend, he was, and technically still is, my husband. I'd never try to explain that to anybody though. I also couldn't tell anyone he was in the Mafia, I was sworn in, and would probably be killed if I ever told anyone.
I smiled at Rachel, shrugging as she handed me the joint, "screw it." I muttered taking a long ass drag, coughing as I felt the smoke burning my lungs.
I passed the joint to Sebastian, pulling the top off the liquor bottle, and chugging that s**t like it was straight apple juice.
"Okayyy sweetheart" Sebastian said, pulling the bottle away from me "I think that's enough for you."
I felt my entire body warm up from the alcohol, my head was spinning.
"Don't take my drink." I pouted.
He blew a cloud of smoke at my face, "I'm not stealing your drink, darlin'. I'm holding onto it for you, until you're sober."
My entire body swayed, "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yeah." I was totally acing this conversation.