A Mafia Bride

STEPH's POV

The first thing I heard when I woke up was the white noise app on my phone, as always. It was the only way I could get a peaceful night’s sleep. Too many demons, and they were loudest at night. When I was alone.

I didn’t mind, it had been like that for as long as I could remember. I suppose once you live in darkness for a while, you become blinded by light.

I turned off the app and stretched my sore muscles, wishing I could keep sleeping, but there was work to be done. As always.

I banged on the wall above my head before I climbed out of bed, heading quickly for a shower while the other side of the wall cursed my existence.

“Suck it up, buttercup. We have work to do.” I shout back, kicking the wall with the side of my foot.

Honestly, you would think he never gets any sleep.

It didn’t take me long to get washed and dressed, what took longest was trying to brush my fiery red curls into some sort of order. But that was unlikely. Stupid hair. It has a mind of its own, I’m sure.

Five minutes later I gave up and threw the brush back onto the sink, cursing under my breath. It was times like this I was temped to cut it all off, but I knew I’d miss the way it swayed with me whilst I walked. I looked at my reflection in the small mirror above my sink, pale blue eyes staring back at me. Haunted eyes. Eyes that told a story no one would listen to.

But that was OK, I didn’t need anyone.

I was fine on my own.

I always had to be.

I didn’t have anything but shopping today, so I left the makeup alone, allowing my pale olive skin and freckles to be free. It wasn’t like I could hide them anyway, they were all over me.

Messy business, stealing souls. Left a permanent mark.

I laugh, it was stupid everyone thought that. But I could see why, my hair was as bright as the fires of hell, it shone like flames in the sun.

It was a part of me.

I laced my trainers lazily as I heard movement from the other side of the drywall, followed by cursing and the odd crash.

Yeah, not the morning type. He never had been.

Not even when we were kids, relying on the daylight to live.

I headed out of my small bedroom and into the kitchen, feeding the small stray cat that visited the rundown apartment via the fire escape every morning. Poor thing was covered in patches of skin where the fur had been ripped out. He was battered. But he was fed. I made sure of that.

I had tried keeping him inside a few times, to keep him safe; but the animal was stubborn. He would never last longer than a few hours before literally tearing the place apart, and it wasn’t in very good shape to begin with.

Jack and I knew this place was shitty, the neighbourhood more so than the building, but it was cheap, and no one cared enough to see who would come and go from the building. We were invisible here. Just how we liked it.

I made some coffee, it was ready just in time for the walking dead to come out of his room; and curse the Lords name, he looked like shit.

“What time did you even get back?” I ask him, handing him his coffee with 3 sugars and milk.

Just how he liked it. I, on the other hand, preferred one sugar, sometimes I had milk, but mostly i preferred it black.

It was stronger that way, and the stronger, the better.

“I don’t know, 4am maybe?” he groans, leaning against the breakfast bar as I poured us both some cereal.

Jack was tall, well, taller than me, by about 6 or 7 inches, but I recon he was quite average for a guy, not too tall, not too short.

I was just vertically challenged, just like my mother was. She was small too, from what I could remember.

He had dark brown hair, with soft Hazel eyes that reminded me of a warm day, he never looked angry like, at least, not to me.

We’ve never fought. We never needed to, we knew each others boundaries, and those lines were never crossed.

“You weren’t followed?” I ask, taking along sip of my drink as I watch him, trying to force the last of sleep from my body.

He had muscle, but he wasn’t big, it was just enough to protect himself when he had to, as well as me; though I mostly did that myself.

If I recall, I saved his ass more than once myself.

In the business we were in, you had to be careful, like; really fucking careful. If not, you be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Mutilated and battered bloody. That is why it was so important that no one knew were we lived.

Not many knew our names, only the loyal ones.

Drugs were tricky, the clients were trickier.

But as of yet we hadn’t been caught, not even by the drug Lords of the underworld had figured out why their money was starting to slow down.

We were cheaper, and clubs, bars and strip clubs wanted cheap. Addicts wanted it cheap.

We worked for an underground boss, we got a fair share, but he got the most. I didn’t care so long as I could pay my bills though, it was the life I was given, who was I to argue that?

Not that I could.

Everything in this city was owned by the mafia.

That’s why we stay hidden. Head down.

Don’t make too much money at once, that’s when they’ll notice.

And the one thing we didn’t want was them to notice us.