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NOTE:

Thanks for reading guys! Here is chapter 2! I hope you enjoy it and if so please vote, comment, and share. Also, constructive criticism is always welcomed! I'm always looking for ways to improve.

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0 2 | How Far We Go

C A L I X   A C E

Two Days Later

Glazes of subtle light decorated a beam above Calix's head. Thunder and lightning crowded the sky as rain sprayed down like wasted ammunition. There was a guttural, monstrous strain coming from the bloodied man that lay sprawled before him. Calix tucked his gun away in the space beneath his shirt.

Rain clung to his skin and hair like a cloak. It was like it too concealed him in the shadows of wickedness. Droplets of water speckled his face, gliding down and joining the pool of blood that swallowed the bottom of his shoes.

"Fuck you," the beaten man howled with laughter, teeth colored red and face unrecognizable. A bullet wound lingered in his chest and the man clutched it like a lifeline as if holding it determined his fate and not the brooding man that had forced him into this predicament. Calix kneeled down in front of the shaken man, grabbing a fist full of shirt.

"Choose your next words carefully."

The man coughed and Calix released him momentarily, glaring into the man's wavering gaze.

"If you don't tell me what I want to know I will hurt your entire family and make you watch," Calix threatened coldly. His voice was deep, calm, and authoritative.

A slice of heaven revealed itself when the door to the back of Temptation cracked open. Only for a moment, a sliver of light danced in the shadows of Calix's hallowed features before it disappeared again, trapping the man in the devilish grasp of Calix Ace. His icy gaze was lethal, enough to bring the strongest armies to wave their white flags. Enough to clash nations. In his lonely irises, the world was ablaze. All black and red and decadent.

And that was enough.

"His name is Snake. He's a tattoo artist in Rose Hills. He's a short white guy, tatted all over. I don't know anything else, I swear."

Calix gave a nod and punched the man in the face, knocking him unconscious. He extended all five of his fingers, glancing at the newly formed bruises on his knuckles. A beat passed as he watched the blood wash away with the rain, running down the alley street. And he left him there with not an ounce of remorse for his actions. A menacing feat danced in the rain as Calix entered Temptation with a sinner's mentality.

The club pooled with color and erotic songs and the people parted the seas as he walked through. A poisonous tune echoed through the marrow of his bones and there was something indescribable about the atmosphere that surrounded him. He made his way to the backroom. The room was crowded with smoke, an all-around sofa, lowly tuned music, and a lit shade of flamingo pink. A group of Calix's allies sat.

The atmosphere was sticky, familiar, and one of the safest places that belonged to Calix in the city. Most people he had acquainted himself with hadn't known that it was also a safe room. Calix only gave that information to people he had trusted. His younger brothers, not by many years, River and Maverick. They had been in the game a fairly similar amount of time as Calix, but not as long.

An older woman, Honey, said something to Calix in a raspy voice. She was pressed up against this guy who was in his late thirties or forties. She had a cigarette between her lips, letting the streams of circles kiss the air. Calix's eyes shifted to Honey who repeated her statement.

"You've been gone an awful while," she said and the room broke out in shattering laughter. Once the laughter subsided she spoke again. "May I ask what occupied your attention, boss?"

"No," was his response. He shot a look in River's direction whose attention was fixated on the woman he had been entangled with in the corner. Maverick had been M.I.A, but Calix assumed he was back at the mansion, running the cartel and keeping watch of the territories as he instructed him. River disentangled himself and made his way to Calix.

"His name is Snake," Calix whispered lowly enough for River to catch. "I want him dead."

"Snake is the rat? There may be more we're missing. Who is he working for?"

"Delano Amour," Calix connected. "Who else would want to divert our attention from 25th Street? He wants us distracted in order to ambush the trades."

"Hm. The Amours." River dragged out his thoughts, eyes trained solemnly on his brother as if trying to read him. "Delano's younger sister was here days ago. You think she had any part in it?"

Calix's face remained expressionless, a quiet beat settling between them.

"No."

And Calix hoped with every fiber of his being that she'd stay out of it. He was sure in some aspects she had been aware of her older brother's field of work and maybe that was enough for her to avert her eyes. Until two days ago.

"You sure?"

"You questioning my judgment, River."

River cracked a smile. "No, never."

Calix gave him a stern look before he turned and walked down the corridor and reentered the general area of the club. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his men to gain as much information on the invasion on 25th Street while he attempted to locate Snake.

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An eerie wave of shadows danced in his wake. The silence was golden, tainted silver in the obscurity of the scene. The street lights were weak as they towered over Calix, but it seemed as if Calix had towered more than any other entity. He was far scarier than anything that night and was fully aware of the sparks of power dripping from his fingertips. It rang more true than any myths or stories. In truth, he was a force to be reckoned with. Step after step, colliding with his steady heartbeat. The rain lulled to a delicate linger, still sticking to his skin like an unbothered nuisance.

The door to the shop swung open and instead of being met with Snake, he was met with a familiar brown-skinned beauty. Her afro had been conformed into a puff atop her head and she wore a silk black top. The top three buttons were undone to reveal a bit of cleavage and she wore a tight skirt with some black stiletto heels. She didn't look anything like a typical tattoo artist with her attire.

"What the hell are you doing here, Ace?" her words cut him out of the intense trance he had fallen victim to. A chuckle slipped from his lips as he scanned Vulia, then tried to step around her. She attempted to block his path. Calix stopped for a moment and stared at Vulia in the eye who wasn't fazed by his icy glare. She raised an eyebrow as if challenging him.

"I'm getting a tattoo," he said. Talk about a damn coincidence. How the hell was he supposed to know that she had any affiliation with this place? Shit.

"By who?"

"Snake."

A beat of silence spilled between them.

"I would have seen your name on the list," she conjured, her eyes narrowing into slits as if catching his white lie. Another beat. "He stepped out. I'll tattoo you."

"I'll just wait for Snake," he stated, scanning the little tattoo parlor. Vulia kept her analyzing eyes on Calix. He knew that she knew that something was off.

"He won't be back for another three hours. Let me," she challenged and if Calix hadn't been so keen on not blowing his cover he would have declined. At least that was what he told herself.

"Lead the way then, Amour."

She turned on her heel and led him to a small room in the back filled with posters of tattoo designs. Her style had been intriguing. There was something gentle and whimsical about her pieces, illuminating spiritual patterns of personal intimacy upon flesh. Calix wanted to bask in the refuge she created with her art. And then his mind tumbled back to that night. The way his fingers stroked fragments of her sun-tamed skin. The way her moon irises danced with a sea of perplexity. Her body had been a canvas, caressed by the patterns of ink, but not fully covered. The way her head fell back in ecstasy.

She sat down, prepared the needle,  and slipped her gloves on. Her back was facing Calix.

"What do you want?"

Calix pulled his shirt overhead and when Vulia turned around to meet him he could see the apprehension in her mannerisms for a split moment. Harmonies of pleasure drummed in her features with a river in her eyes as though she was careening through universes, holding stars in her palms. Calix wanted her to touch him too, to feel the hardness of his muscles, the steadiness of his bones, and the quaking of his arteries. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Sinner," he informed her and pointed to his chest. He did want a tattoo in the future, but he hadn't expected it so soon. Nothing was going as planned today. And it was making Calix go mad.

"Hm, fitting," was all she said. She turned the needle on and moved closer to him, lowering the needle to his skin with no hesitation. She began to work in silence and Calix noticed the determination in the way she worked. As he watched her his eyes were drenched with a different kind of intensity. The way she worked to mark up his body with her ink. Calix couldn't tear his eyes away, hypnotized by the breed of light she had produced in her aura. It wasn't malicious or an intention to kill. It was like a predator watching his prey, craving every horizon she graced and every ground she pranced upon.

He hadn't noticed before the way her nipples peaked through her shirt like mountaintops behind clouds of fabric. He hadn't noticed the way she bit her lip and furrowed her brows or the vanilla fragrance that invaded his nostrils as she moved closer to get a better angle. Her skin was warm against his as if the sun had touched the darkest parts of him, consuming him completely with lust. 

All Calix wanted was to have her closer and if the door had been closed he wouldn't have hesitated to stop the session and pull her closer and ruin her. To obliterate every valley and croon that composed her body, to have her panting and whining for him to touch her everywhere. She was so fucking intoxicating and the proximity hadn't helped.

"You weren't here for a tattoo, were you Calix?" she asked, not tearing her attention from his chest. Calix didn't speak, tearing his eyes from her and towards the doorway.

"I'm not a fucking moron, Ace. I know Snake works for my brother," she informed. "You want to kill him? Snake?"

After the silence became too overbearing Calix spoke, "Yes."

"Don't kill him, Ace," she stopped for a moment and raised the needle so she could look at him. There was something in her irises he had seen before. Something absent in himself, but reflective in hers. Sympathy. "Please."

And for a moment Calix wanted to abide by her request but knew he couldn't do that. It'd trigger a domino effect of events and he'd have no one to blame but himself if everything spiraled out of control because of it. She began her task again.

"I can't do that."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I won't," was all he said and Vulia scoffed, a permanent scowl on her face at his stubborn words.

"If you kill him, Calix, I swear to God, I will hunt you down and kill you to avenge his death."

"You think I'd allow you to kill me?" he questioned.

"Well, Ace, I have the opportunity right now. I could prevent you from hurting anyone else."

For the first time since Calix entered that small room, he released a low chuckle. Vulia put the needle on the table next to her and stared at Calix in an intimidating way as if she were going to do it. As if she was willing to kill the danger that corrupted most of the city and neighboring cities. As if she was willing to demolish the corruption because he was nothing but corruption and sin, wrapped in the devil's arms. As if she had been staring at the devil himself. A lethal killer with no remorse.

"How would you do it, mon amour?"

"My bare hands," she whispered into his ear. And in a glimpse of a moment, Calix had turned some and placed his hands on Vulia's hips, gripping her and maneuvering her body so that she was straddling him now. Her legs were on either side of him and her ass was on his crotch.

"Do it," he encouraged, watching her with a testing look on his expression. Calix had never feared death, not like most men. He would take secrets to his grave and choose death over it. There was nothing Calix truly feared. Of all things, he was the fear. He was the thing most men feared. And now he had allowed Vulia to do what most men would only dream of. To kill him. And now death had looked him in the eye.

There was something frantic about the way she looked down at Calix as if not believing him. As if Calix wouldn't give Vulia the gun and allow her to pull the trigger if he could. His hands continued to grip her hips softly and he watched her body language. His own heart had been ravaging war in his chest, but it hadn't been because of the liberty he had given Vulia.

 It was what she could and had done to him. It was how she made him feel. Like he had lived a thousand lifetimes, but nothing had compared to the rummaging that danced behind his ribs and inside his chest. At that moment, she could tear him apart and he wouldn't bat a fucking eye. But she hadn't known that. And no one could know that.

"You're fucking sick," she spewed but hadn't moved from her spot. Calix hadn't taken her words as an insult. It was closer to the truth than anything else. An absolute, even.

"Am I?" He wondered as one of his thumbs lowered to a part of her thigh that had been exposed from her skirt rising a bit. He began rubbing circles on her skin and watched her reaction deeply like she was better than any form of entertainment. She didn't break eye contact, trying to maintain it and remain unaffected. "Were you thinking that the other night, Vulia? How fucked up I am when I was inside you?"

Her face was defying the rest of her body. Her face had been protesting, but her body had wanted to be closer as her hips began to grind against him and that was poisonous. Not just for him, or her, but for both of them. A poisonous, forbidden concoction mixing as they intertwined. But he loved it, it lit a fire inside him that made him hot rather than cold. Destruction and gentleness had coexisted in a world of opposition.

"Hm?" He urged her to answer. "Use your words, douceur."

Vulia stopped moving and looked at him spitefully. There was nothing but abhorrence in her irises. Calix knew that and he knew how dangerous it was to have exchanged even a lick of words with her. He knew all the risks when he walked in and saw her, yet he spoke anyway. He had slowly allowed her into the world she was so adjacent to. So he told himself that tonight would be the last time he saw her. It had to be.

"Go to hell," she spat out, loathing dancing in her movements like a dark plague. Neither of them spoke for a moment and then Calix finally interjected.

"I don't like liars, Amour," he said and released her from his hold. "Now, finish the tattoo."

She looked like a deer caught in headlights when he spat the words out with no emotion. She looked at him like his words sliced through her skin and cracked her open, spilling all the words and things that made her onto the ground.

"Fuck you," she said as she stood up and left the small room for a moment. She was gone for about ten minutes. In those ten minutes that she was absent Calix checked his phone and saw he had ten new text messages. He checked the one from Maverick which was sent quite recently.

There's been an attack on 30th Street. Three of our men were killed.

"Fuck,"  Calix uttered. He sent a reply in a matter of seconds.

Send some men to scope out the area. I'll be there in a few hours.

None of the texts gained him any information on who may have caused the disruption on 25th Street and maybe that could have led to who caused it on 30th. Calix swore he'd kill the fucker who had been messing with the routes and his money. Vulia had entered, refusing to make eye contact. There was this inkling that lingered on Calix's shoulders that maybe she had known more than he initially gave her credit for. Maybe Snake was the culprit behind this attack too or maybe it had been her brother. She proceeded to finish the tattoo and their lips stayed nestled in silence while Calix's mind bled a firestorm of notions that led to Vulia as the center. She had to know that this was going to happen.

"How much do you know about your brother?" He finally asked after what felt like hours of painfully stricken silence.

"Enough not to get involved," she admitted. "Whatever you're thinking Calix...I have a lot of shit going on in my life to bother with any of that stuff. I know he isn't a good guy, but he isn't bad either. We all have made decisions we're not proud of but he has kept my mother and me safe and out of it."

He stared at her for a moment, relishing in the Earth that soared in her eyes, and then averted his gaze. There was the pain of the needle stabbing into his skin and since she had started the artwork it was the first time he truly felt it. Simultaneously, it was like the first time he truly saw her and the potential of what she could do. Maybe she'd subside the battle or maybe she'd cause a war.

Vulia started wiping his chest, getting the last drops of ink and admiring her handiwork with a satisfying smile. She watched as Calix sat up and saw the tattoo in the mirror. It couldn't have been more fitting. He pulled out his wallet and gave her more cash than was needed to cover the tattoo and then he left without uttering a word to Vulia. Something told him that Snake had everything to do with what happened on 30th Street.

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TO BE CONTINUED

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