48 Hours

At midnight, I stand outside on my balcony, inhaling that salty air. I wrap my fluffy robe a little tighter around me when I feel a breeze that sends a shiver down my spine.

The sound of crashing waves brings a little calmness to the chaos happening in my head. I close my eyes and count from ten to one, until my nerves settle.

I see one of my guards walking down on the sand, making sure nobody unwanted is here.

“It is a little late to be out here, boss.” Mahone, my bodyguard, comes from behind me and leans forward on the carved railing next to me.

“I told you, outside of office hours it is ‘Martina’ for you.” I chuckle softly and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“It is always office hours for me. I made it my priority to do so.” He looks over at me and I can feel his small smile.

I met Mahone at a restaurant shooting. He was my waiter that night, seven years ago. I woke up in a hospital bed with him holding my hand. I made it my quest to make sure he is by my side at all times.

Since then, he has been.

“If you were not there, you would not be here and you would have a normal job,” I tell him, turning my body to face him.

“It is our choice how we want things to happen. You chose this path and I happened to choose it too,” Mahone responds.

“Cannot believe you have still stuck around after all this time.”

“What is really going on? You have that look in your eyes,” Mahone asks.

“The day like today, seven years ago, I dumped Alexander. Ask me again what we told the world instead of the truth.” I slump down on my outdoor sofa and grab the glass of cranberry in front of me.

Mahone looks at me waiting to continue.

“I said ‘Our families refuse to join together and I cannot carry an heir to your family. You are not Italian, remember that. Sharing power would be a problem.’ But what was the real truth?

“He cheated on me. In broad daylight. Bastard did not even think of cheating in a bedroom. On the beach. My beach! I shot that bimbo afterwards.” I am fuming even after all these years.

Every time I had to shoot someone, I would just need to imagine his face in front of me and I would have no remorse towards the other person. Every time I decide to hurt someone, I would just need to imagine him.

Alexander. The German bastard.

Suddenly, I feel Mahone take the glass away from me.

“You’re going to break it between your hands,” he says softly.

I rub my temples and sigh.

“Why haven’t you been seeing anyone for the past years?” Mahone asks me quietly.

“To what? Put them into my life? Then they leave because they cannot handle a proper woman? Leave because they find out there is just too much danger and completely disregard my feelings?”

My voice cracks in the end and I clear my throat to cover it up.

But Mahone knows better.

He sits next to me and pulls me to his side, letting me sink into his warmth.

“Let it out if you need to. It doesn’t matter how old you are,” he whispers into my hair.

Twenty-seven years old. That’s how old I am.

I sniffle.

“Maybe it is just hormones taking over right now.” I chuckle sadly, knowing that it isn’t the case.

He doesn’t say anything, and I feel him run his fingers through my hair.

Mahone suddenly lets me go, leaving me confused as he stands up.

He slides his jacket off and comes back to the couch and lays down, putting a pillow under his head.

“Lie with me. Let us watch the stars.” He says softly, putting a hand in front of me.

I put my hand gently in his, then rest my head on his chest and a leg over his crotch.

Mahone was such a comfortable place for me, always has been for a long while now.

“Have you ever wondered why I was a waitress at the age of 30?” He asked out of the blue.

“Of course I knew why. I ran a background check on you.” I chuckle.

“Yeah, well I was fired from that company because I punched a guy for harassing a woman.” His fingers go to my hair and he starts running his fingers through it.

“That is how messed up our world is, Mahone.”

“How many people do you trust here?”

“Depends on where that person’s status is in my mind. I do trust you the most. I wouldn’t have you here if I didn’t.” I look up at him and see that stubble on his chin.

Without thinking, my fingers reach for it and I start grazing it. Mahone doesn’t say anything, but tilts his head ever so slightly and studies my face.

“This is wrong,” I whisper, and now my thumb starts caressing his bottom lip.

“But it feels right for you, doesn’t it?” he whispers back.

My eyes fall down to his lips and I see him part them slightly.

“I do not want to do this to you.” I continue whispering, and I feel my lips getting closer to his.

“I want you to do this to me. If it helps you forget.” His lips are only mere inches away from mine.

“I cannot hurt you. You will hate me forever.”

“Maybe a one-time thing doesn’t hurt.”

“What if it kills you?”

“Die knowing I am protecting a beauty with a heart?” His lips started brushing mine.

“I do not have a heart, you know that.” I press my lips to his and I hear him sigh, as if he has been waiting for this moment all his life.

He sucks on my bottom lip, turning us over to hover above me. His hand gently strokes my collarbone and starts pushing the fabric of my robe off my shoulders.

The moment is cut short when I hear Matteo barge in, the only other guard allowed indoors with me at night. Yes, I also know my men from their footsteps.

Mahone freezes and I hear him swallow.

“Boss, we got a problem up front.” Matteo clears his throat and my eyes widen.

Mahone quickly gets off me and I see him adjust his pants.

“Where is my gun?” I quickly start walking inside my house, tying my hair into a bun and discarding my robe, leaving me in my shorts and crop top that I sleep in.

“Did you get a name, Matteo?” I ask as Mahone hands me his spare gun.

“No, all he said was he personally knew you and had to speak to you. His face was covered and he seemed to be armed.”

I remove the safety from the gun and slip into my sneakers.

“Who is standing with him?”

“Carlos, ma’am.”

“No one knows me personally. Tell Paolo to meet us up front.” I’m stomping my way to the front door with both Mahone and Matteo by my side.

The sound of the gravel crunching underneath me is loud enough to wake me from my sleep, if I was asleep.

I reach the front gate and glare at whoever the figure is that is standing all in black.

“Who the fuck are you?” I point my gun at him.

I wasn’t always civil, but everyone wanted a piece of my power. I could never be safe.

The figure turns around and smiles at me.

“Been a long time, Martina.” I snarl involuntarily at his voice.

He takes his mask off and looks at me.

“Go to hell, Alexander.” I knew better than to shoot him at this very moment. I knew he wasn’t alone. He could be alone physically, but he has always kept a mic somewhere on him.

“You wouldn’t kill me. You don’t have the guts to do so. If you did, you would have done it seven years ago, but you’re weak.”

Without a second thought, I shoot his knee.

He is still on the ground groaning from pain.

I shoot another bullet through his thigh.

“Take him to the hospital, Carlos,” I order.

“What do I exactly say?” He looks at me nervously.

I look around me for a moment and crouch down to Alexander’s level, who’s still whimpering and groaning.

Using the back of the gun, I slam the side of his head with it, making him fall unconscious.

“Give me your shirt, Carlos.” I look up at him.

Only been here a few months. A newbie. Still learning.

Poor child.

He takes off his shirt and hands it to me. For a moment I admire the tattooed snake on his chest.

I dip parts of his shirt into the pool of blood and put some on my fingers, flicking some in random places.

Mahone and Matteo watch. They know better than to intervene. They know how much I calculate in my mind every consequence. They never intervene until I say so.

“There. Put it back on, Carlos. If someone asks, you say you got into a fight and you were trying to fight off the man who was trying to kill this poor soul down here. Make it believable.” I smile up at him as I get up.

“Yes, ma’am.” Carlos nods and carries the half-lifeless body in his arms, putting him in his car.

After reaching the bathroom, I run a bath to sink myself in for the next half hour of the night or what is left of it. I wash my hands first to get all of the blood off and suddenly I vomit into the sink.

“Martina?” Mahone asks, coming behind me.

I wipe my mouth and lean on the counter.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

I nod my head and he starts slipping off the straps of my top and places a soft kiss on my neck.

Maybe a one-time thing doesn’t hurt too much.