Stone Cold K*ller

chapter 36

Nicolai Stone

The unforgiving snow falls upon my shoulders when I reach to a warehouse of mine. It's the place where I need to over see my men who are cargoing my investments of the month. Weapons, ammunition and blocks of cash that have been robbed a little over a week ago from a heist the twins orchestrated.

Walking in the door the smell of gun powder and sweat assaults me, grimacing. I hated the smell but it was a smell I remember from my past.

"Boss, you have several shipments being audited by the coast guard, they aren't going to make it." Shoals informs me while I walk into the dark atmosphere.

My grip tightens on my cane, "didn't they take the southern route we agreed upon?"

I knew it before he even uttered a word, "the route was forfeited. The Italian coast territory gave word that the shipment was suspected a black market russ."

Fucking Edmund.

I sigh, "unfortunate. " Shoal didn't understand what was happening and probably didn't think his life was on the line for I was still angered by earlier today. Images of her face, teary eyed, lip quivering, and an expression of vulnerability. It pissed me off so much.

So much I didn't think of my actions when I bring my gun out and shoot Shoal in the face.

Everyone around us stops what they are doing for a moment, seeing as it's same Ole same, they return to their duties, carrying cargo into the storage.

"Clean this up." I snap, directing my order to anyone who dares to move closer to me, my gun tightens in my free hand, "and get ahold of the German contractors and get a damn route for my inventory."

I walk out of the warehouse and inhale the crisp cold air into my lungs.

Remembering is a burden to a fault. Memories of Christmas was too close to reach for my liking.

Chirstmas day, when my mother died.

When I seen what Sienna had got hidden in that room. It did nothing but amplify my memories. It was long forgotten yet now fully vivid and very close to feeling unbearable for my liking.

"Son, go get your mother. She is late to cook us breakfast." The Pahkan orders.

Only to find out when the boy goes into the parents room and sees his mother still laying in bed. "Mama! Wake up! It's Christmas!" He shouts in joy.

But she did not awake. Still laying beneath the sheets, the silence deafening to his ears.

"Mama!" He shouts again climbing up into the bed from the side, a big smile on his cute face, "Mama! Wake up!"

He taps her thin shoulder she doesn't respond. In fact, she doesn't move at all.

"Mama?" The boy hesitates, something eery of that moment. His heart pounds in his little chest, "not funny, Mama!" He says, a little uneasy.

He pokes her back then gets closer. He notices the side of her face, a pale color to it--not the rosy cheeks he knows.

Something cracks and it wasn't his heart, it was something beneath his knees when he moved closer. Looking down he sees what looks to be a small orange pill bottle.

It was empty.

The boy struggles to understand after he shuffles his mother body before her back falls down and now her face reveals an angel he always thought of her to be, looking like a frightened stranger. Her eyes bloodshot and wide open. Mouth gaping open with a substance dripping down the side of her pale lips.

"MAMA!" the boy weeps, tears falling down his cheeks, "wake up, wake up, wake up."

"What is going on here!?" His Papa shouts sounding almost buoyantly which scares the boy.

His Papa looks from his crying son to his dead wife, "lets go. The maids will have to make us food instead."

The boy wails, fists cuffs the sheets beside his mother's body, "save her!"

"She is dead. Can't help what's already been done." Was his Papa's response before leaving.

The boy in distress look back down to his mother, he reaches for her open eyes and seals them shut, or at least tries too. He looks up and than his eyes look to the window.

It was snowing.

He would have been joyous about it. But wasn't when he lays beside his dead mother and weeps and weeps and weeps. The only light in his life, who takes the nightmares away, who loved him more than any one in the world. The only one who protected him when his Papa demanded to much for a little boy.

He lays there, watching the snow fall and fall and fall. Until he lets the darkness consume him.

He hated Chirstmas and what it brought him.

Shaking my head to rid the memory I go back into the car, "take me to the bar." I order the driver.

I knew of a bar opened for a day like this. Every year it never closed because I paid them to stay open.

When I got to the bar it was almost empty but took a place in the shadows of a booth and ordered a drink.

Maybe I was harsh with my words to Sienna. I actually didn't mean any of it. I just didn't want to be plagued by this day--unfortunately I did especially when she is my wife and it was close to home when she had bought stuff for Chirstmas. To celebrate today.

I didn't want to celebrate, I wanted to burn my past away with harsh liquor.

I knew she wouldn't forgive me for this, leaving on her favorite holiday. But I needed space and time.

Drink after drink.

It seems to work when I start to think about my wife and how happy she looked last night when talking about her Christmas's from her own childhood.

An hour into it my whole body is numb with after affects of the liquor.

I get my phone out with fumbling fingers and press the contact number to call.

It rings.

And rings.

And ring ring ring ring ring--

Fucking hell, she is ignoring me.

I leave a voice mail, "aye, я хотел говорить мне жаль. и я тебя люблю. пожалуйста...пожалуйста, Простите меня. Soy estúpida, ˈbābē. perdóname."

I think I spoke my native tongue and Spanish but I'm too drunk to remember what I just said.

I hang up and raise a finger up to the waitress, "grab me a coffee, black. And then an aspirin."

I needed to try to sober up but it probably won't be of use now.

I need Sienna.

I realize just now I need her, I need her touch and I need her eyes.

God I'm such a drunk sob, I forget how utterly wrecked I get every year on this day.

I wipe my palm down my face in frustration. I can't believe I told her to act right when she is acting exactly how she should...happy....

I close my eyes and imagine her sweet tight body cuddling up to me like a little girl who should be protected. Always.

I groan feeling my pants tighten while my cock hardens. Fuck.

I need my Mama because Papi is hungry for her attention.

But...I fucked up, "shit."

How should I make her forgive me?