I once said I'm never going back. I said I'll never make the same mistake twice. Not that I'd be a part of mafia nor be with him again.
I thought people like him doesn't change. But that's wrong. All the people change. And truly it was only his surface. Inside he was a fragile and emotional human, who had to be someone else in case to survive.
Mafia again .. it was dangerous, okay?! Killings and hunting and dangerous tribulations .. but he taught me the inside of it. And in the beginning I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to. He'd never make me do something I didn't want to. But it came out I was meant for it. That mafia was my love of life. Neither of the guys. Mafia instead. I was cut out for it.
And you know what they say? The second time it's not a mistake anymore. The second time it's a choice.
"You've had enough practice for today," Jake said and wanted to take away the revolver.
I hid my hand behind my back, with the other pushed the ear muffs lower. "But I want more!"
"You've run out of cartridges,"
"Give me more, I know there's more," I demanded.
He sighed. "Caroline..."
I pouted but held out my hand.
"Well, if you really want to, there's something we can do," he muttered thoughtfully, taking out the cartridge case.
"Yeah?!" I can bet my eyes were on fire.
Jake put the revolver I was shooting with into the gun case, which was on his belt, and took out the other. It looked like from western movies. He gave it to me.
I pressed it at my breast like some kind of relic.
"Well?" I asked expectantly.
"Put it against your head,"
"Do what I told you, Caro," Jake said sharply through gritted teeth.
I did as he ordered. Instead of previous luster, shock and fear were mirroring from my eyes.
"I hope you know the rules of Russian Roulette, my girl," Jake said thoughtfully and tilted his head.