15-02-2020, 11:39 PM
She wasn’t expecting a knock on the door late evening when the Dillon walked up to her door while she was out in the balcony smoking in the cold breeze. He got a bottle of wine with him.
“I suppose it’s only appropriate to thank you for the help evening.” He handed her the bottle, “Especially with a ugly arse Russian, he could kill you with his words”
She graciously accepted the wine, a rare forty year old wine, she didn’t know it but she remembered it from the menu and it cost a bomb.
“You could join us, we already opened the bottle.”
She stared back, there was no harm, two elder men who were genuinely nice.
“Of course.” She replied, “Let me change up.”
“Good, I’ll wait.” Dillon added as he shut the door. She walked inside, grabbed the jacket and her woolen hat along with the leather gloves and wore her socks joining Dillon who led the way down to the room right under her suite.
Boris was there, wearing a shorts and a loose shirt with half the buttons thrown open. A patch of grey hair on his chest and menacing tattoo, she could not see it as he straightened her dress up.
“You said you were going to give and return.”
“She needed the distraction” Dillon added as he stepped into the room shutting the door.
She pulled up a chair near the fire place and sat, peeling off her hat and gloves, the room was smaller and warmer. Not leaving the balcony door open would have kept the room warm like theirs.
“So you guys together?” Jasmine asked.
“Do we look like a bunch of faggots” Boris replied.
“I’m sorry. Pardon my friend.” Dillon almost immediately added, “It’s just him, he is an arsehole, there is no cure. We have been coming here for few years now.”
“Oh wow that is good.”
“Ya…this idiot is a sentimental fool.”
“We all are.” Dillon added, “We met two decades back when we arrived here with our families and we kept bumping every few years.”
“So now.”
“Old and alone, we have only few friends left and this place has lots of good and bad memories.”
Jasmine smiled as she reached for the glass Dillon handed her.
“Cheers” She raised her glass.
Boris waved his arm and Dillon touched the glasses.
“Jesus, for once be nice.” Dillon quipped, “This is a good wine.”
“It’s fucking costly.” Boris replied.
“I agree.” Jasmine added.
Boris stared at her as though he didn’t want her to agree to him. “I’d have had a hundred bottles of Rum with this.”
“I too prefer spiced rum.” Jasmine paused, staring back at Boris, “And it does not have anything to do with you.”
“Let’s get Rum for you two then.”
“That’d be great.”
They ordered a spiced rum and Boris and Jasmine filled their glasses and added coke to it, Boris preferred it with just touch of soda. They touched their glasses and Boris eased back, his shirt pulling off revealing part of the tattoo.
“That is a menacing tattoo.” Jasmine stared at Boris.
“Prison tattoo.” Boris replied, pulling his shirt part revealing a cracked skull with a knife stuck into one of the hollow eyes and red blood dripping out.
“It’s not prison, it’s gulag.” Dillon corrected his friend.
Everyone knew gulags, Russian prisons in Siberia, were they sent those the state didn’t agreed with, she had read about thousands who had perished there and the origin of the infamous Road of Bones too.
“Jesus! I’m sorry.” Jasmine replied.
“Don’t be… I don’t need your sympathies”
Why was he so brutish? He looked like there was not one bone of decency in him.
Jasmine turned around to Dillon, “What the fuck did I do?”
“He is just pissed at the world all time.” Dillon replied.
“If you are going to make me feel uncomfortable, I’m going to fucking tear that skin off you.” Jasmine stared back at Boris, he was menacing but she could get equally pissed off. “Being angry is not just your comfort zone, I too am quiet capable of that.”
“Ah! Silly girl” Boris waved at her, “Look at me, I’m alone in honey moon suite, I want world to feel sorry for me.” He quipped back.
“Is that why you think I’m here.”
“Jesus, both of you be quiet” Dillon interrupted.
“No let him answer, is that why you think I’m fucking here.” Jasmine screamed, “Fucking answer me.”
“Why else then?”
“Cause I needed this break, I needed to leave the city and start over, you think my life revolves around that fucking cock.” Jasmine screamed back.
Dillon walked up to his friend, “For Christ’s sake, please shut your fucking hole. She does not need to hear this, no one does.”
Boris stared at his friend and then at a very angry Jasmine.
“Remember don’t eat your life away cause of this. Locking up in the room won’t help, take it from me, I was locked for years in a pig pen, I know what I’m speaking.” Boris added calmly, “Just live your life the way you want with whatever is left, that is all we get, one chance at life.”
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing.”
Boris smiled, the cut on his left lips parted menacingly, “A complete stranger like me got under your skin. Just imagine what you would be able to do to yourself.”
She sat down.
“It’s sad to see you lock up and waste your day, get out as quickly as possible and live.” Boris added. “That’s what I did, I got drunk and fucked as many whores I could the weekend I was freed.”
“Whatever.” Jasmine brushed him aside.
“Sweetheart” Boris leaned forward, reaching over, grabbing her arm, his hand was huge and she felt like a tiny doll, “The worst kind of prison is the one you build for yourself. Once you get locked it’s difficult to find the key. If it’s anger that helps you get out of it, then be pissed, if you want to cry, cry, do what ever you want and get the fucker out of your head, don’t ever let him live in your head, never. I forgave my enemies and they nearly got me killed, it’s difficult but then it’s the right thing. Just leave and move on.”
Jasmine smiled, patting his heavy hand, “I agree.”
“Good.” He raised his glass and she leaned forward raising hers to a cheers.
The rest of the evening went pleasant. Boris wasn’t his menacing self though he had every right to be pissed at everyone who breathed for the injustice done to him. His young wife was bangd tortured and killed by the system, his daughter was sold to westerners who were looking for adoption. He had lost everything and lived through hell and yet had emerged strong, strong enough to start it all over and fall in love and raise a family. Though every day he still thought about his child and the wife he had loved. Dillon on the other hand was an investment banker with a very limited portfolio. Having born in Europe and brought up in the Caribbeans he had an accent a touch of both so as to speak. He owned his own firm and was a millionaire himself. The two formed an odd mix of friendship, miles apart and yet unified by trust. If anyone could reign in Boris it was Dillon, he was calm, composed and always weighed his words before he spoke.
The three had sat all night talking, mostly about Boris and how stupid he was to pick a fight against the state. It was Dillon’s favourite topic and with Jasmine too joining in it only got bad for Boris who was still sticking to his ground about doing the exact same thing knowing what had happened to his family. He and his wife were committed to the cause and had given the biggest sacrifices, they were proud about it and if their society had changed, they had some small role to play and hundred like him who had been hardened by the only hell on earth, a Siberian Gulag.
It wasn’t till two in the morning they finally parted, she was drunk and Boris the one whom alcohol didn’t seem to affect walked with her to her door.
“Remember live your life.” He said hugging her as they parted at her door. She had a good sleep that night, thanks to the fact that she had downed few pegs and smoked half a packet. Jasmine didn’t wake up till noon the next day with no signs of hangover or headache. After a good long shower she stepped out. Dressed in a long skirt and black shirt with a leather jacket thrown around her, along with the heavy boots she looked fresh as though born alive. She was in no mood for a lunch and decided she’d have something light in the nearby town. Driving down she stepped into a road side hotel and ordered a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and sausages, with a hot steaming cup of tea. The heavy rains had taken away the cold and the sun shined bright for the first time since she had arrived. People were out in their light clothes and she too pulled off her leather jacket as she enjoyed her breakfast. Her plans were to go to the nearby wine yard, but the tour would not start till noon two and she didn’t want to be late like yesterday. Instead she had been thinking about the nearby road about hundred miles away from the town which had featured in few magazine as the most beautiful road. As much as she loved driving she hated the idea of canceling a wine tour that came well recommended. Maybe she’d postpone it for tomorrow and hopefully start early.
To be Contd...
“I suppose it’s only appropriate to thank you for the help evening.” He handed her the bottle, “Especially with a ugly arse Russian, he could kill you with his words”
She graciously accepted the wine, a rare forty year old wine, she didn’t know it but she remembered it from the menu and it cost a bomb.
“You could join us, we already opened the bottle.”
She stared back, there was no harm, two elder men who were genuinely nice.
“Of course.” She replied, “Let me change up.”
“Good, I’ll wait.” Dillon added as he shut the door. She walked inside, grabbed the jacket and her woolen hat along with the leather gloves and wore her socks joining Dillon who led the way down to the room right under her suite.
Boris was there, wearing a shorts and a loose shirt with half the buttons thrown open. A patch of grey hair on his chest and menacing tattoo, she could not see it as he straightened her dress up.
“You said you were going to give and return.”
“She needed the distraction” Dillon added as he stepped into the room shutting the door.
She pulled up a chair near the fire place and sat, peeling off her hat and gloves, the room was smaller and warmer. Not leaving the balcony door open would have kept the room warm like theirs.
“So you guys together?” Jasmine asked.
“Do we look like a bunch of faggots” Boris replied.
“I’m sorry. Pardon my friend.” Dillon almost immediately added, “It’s just him, he is an arsehole, there is no cure. We have been coming here for few years now.”
“Oh wow that is good.”
“Ya…this idiot is a sentimental fool.”
“We all are.” Dillon added, “We met two decades back when we arrived here with our families and we kept bumping every few years.”
“So now.”
“Old and alone, we have only few friends left and this place has lots of good and bad memories.”
Jasmine smiled as she reached for the glass Dillon handed her.
“Cheers” She raised her glass.
Boris waved his arm and Dillon touched the glasses.
“Jesus, for once be nice.” Dillon quipped, “This is a good wine.”
“It’s fucking costly.” Boris replied.
“I agree.” Jasmine added.
Boris stared at her as though he didn’t want her to agree to him. “I’d have had a hundred bottles of Rum with this.”
“I too prefer spiced rum.” Jasmine paused, staring back at Boris, “And it does not have anything to do with you.”
“Let’s get Rum for you two then.”
“That’d be great.”
They ordered a spiced rum and Boris and Jasmine filled their glasses and added coke to it, Boris preferred it with just touch of soda. They touched their glasses and Boris eased back, his shirt pulling off revealing part of the tattoo.
“That is a menacing tattoo.” Jasmine stared at Boris.
“Prison tattoo.” Boris replied, pulling his shirt part revealing a cracked skull with a knife stuck into one of the hollow eyes and red blood dripping out.
“It’s not prison, it’s gulag.” Dillon corrected his friend.
Everyone knew gulags, Russian prisons in Siberia, were they sent those the state didn’t agreed with, she had read about thousands who had perished there and the origin of the infamous Road of Bones too.
“Jesus! I’m sorry.” Jasmine replied.
“Don’t be… I don’t need your sympathies”
Why was he so brutish? He looked like there was not one bone of decency in him.
Jasmine turned around to Dillon, “What the fuck did I do?”
“He is just pissed at the world all time.” Dillon replied.
“If you are going to make me feel uncomfortable, I’m going to fucking tear that skin off you.” Jasmine stared back at Boris, he was menacing but she could get equally pissed off. “Being angry is not just your comfort zone, I too am quiet capable of that.”
“Ah! Silly girl” Boris waved at her, “Look at me, I’m alone in honey moon suite, I want world to feel sorry for me.” He quipped back.
“Is that why you think I’m here.”
“Jesus, both of you be quiet” Dillon interrupted.
“No let him answer, is that why you think I’m fucking here.” Jasmine screamed, “Fucking answer me.”
“Why else then?”
“Cause I needed this break, I needed to leave the city and start over, you think my life revolves around that fucking cock.” Jasmine screamed back.
Dillon walked up to his friend, “For Christ’s sake, please shut your fucking hole. She does not need to hear this, no one does.”
Boris stared at his friend and then at a very angry Jasmine.
“Remember don’t eat your life away cause of this. Locking up in the room won’t help, take it from me, I was locked for years in a pig pen, I know what I’m speaking.” Boris added calmly, “Just live your life the way you want with whatever is left, that is all we get, one chance at life.”
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing.”
Boris smiled, the cut on his left lips parted menacingly, “A complete stranger like me got under your skin. Just imagine what you would be able to do to yourself.”
She sat down.
“It’s sad to see you lock up and waste your day, get out as quickly as possible and live.” Boris added. “That’s what I did, I got drunk and fucked as many whores I could the weekend I was freed.”
“Whatever.” Jasmine brushed him aside.
“Sweetheart” Boris leaned forward, reaching over, grabbing her arm, his hand was huge and she felt like a tiny doll, “The worst kind of prison is the one you build for yourself. Once you get locked it’s difficult to find the key. If it’s anger that helps you get out of it, then be pissed, if you want to cry, cry, do what ever you want and get the fucker out of your head, don’t ever let him live in your head, never. I forgave my enemies and they nearly got me killed, it’s difficult but then it’s the right thing. Just leave and move on.”
Jasmine smiled, patting his heavy hand, “I agree.”
“Good.” He raised his glass and she leaned forward raising hers to a cheers.
The rest of the evening went pleasant. Boris wasn’t his menacing self though he had every right to be pissed at everyone who breathed for the injustice done to him. His young wife was bangd tortured and killed by the system, his daughter was sold to westerners who were looking for adoption. He had lost everything and lived through hell and yet had emerged strong, strong enough to start it all over and fall in love and raise a family. Though every day he still thought about his child and the wife he had loved. Dillon on the other hand was an investment banker with a very limited portfolio. Having born in Europe and brought up in the Caribbeans he had an accent a touch of both so as to speak. He owned his own firm and was a millionaire himself. The two formed an odd mix of friendship, miles apart and yet unified by trust. If anyone could reign in Boris it was Dillon, he was calm, composed and always weighed his words before he spoke.
The three had sat all night talking, mostly about Boris and how stupid he was to pick a fight against the state. It was Dillon’s favourite topic and with Jasmine too joining in it only got bad for Boris who was still sticking to his ground about doing the exact same thing knowing what had happened to his family. He and his wife were committed to the cause and had given the biggest sacrifices, they were proud about it and if their society had changed, they had some small role to play and hundred like him who had been hardened by the only hell on earth, a Siberian Gulag.
It wasn’t till two in the morning they finally parted, she was drunk and Boris the one whom alcohol didn’t seem to affect walked with her to her door.
“Remember live your life.” He said hugging her as they parted at her door. She had a good sleep that night, thanks to the fact that she had downed few pegs and smoked half a packet. Jasmine didn’t wake up till noon the next day with no signs of hangover or headache. After a good long shower she stepped out. Dressed in a long skirt and black shirt with a leather jacket thrown around her, along with the heavy boots she looked fresh as though born alive. She was in no mood for a lunch and decided she’d have something light in the nearby town. Driving down she stepped into a road side hotel and ordered a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and sausages, with a hot steaming cup of tea. The heavy rains had taken away the cold and the sun shined bright for the first time since she had arrived. People were out in their light clothes and she too pulled off her leather jacket as she enjoyed her breakfast. Her plans were to go to the nearby wine yard, but the tour would not start till noon two and she didn’t want to be late like yesterday. Instead she had been thinking about the nearby road about hundred miles away from the town which had featured in few magazine as the most beautiful road. As much as she loved driving she hated the idea of canceling a wine tour that came well recommended. Maybe she’d postpone it for tomorrow and hopefully start early.
To be Contd...
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)