Blood Ties And Forbidden Love

Chapter 2: Bound By Honour

Preston's face beamed with a smile as he ignited a cigarette, capturing the attention of the college students. "You know" he began, drawing them into his tale, "owning that bar and crossing paths with River felt like a true stroke of luck. It was as if fate had intertwined our lives, or perhaps it was just a remarkable coincidence."

One of the college students leaned forward and asked, "Why did River go to your bar?"

Preston cleared his throat slightly, and his career brought over a cup of tea for him. "Same as everyone else," he replied. "She wanted a night away." He nodded gratefully as he took a sip of the tea.

Curiosity piqued, another student chimed in, "What happened after that night?"

Preston paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I'll explain," he said, preparing to share the story.

Year: 1945

Preston POV:

After the incident, I retreated to my apartment, cloaked in an ominous silence. I slouched in a worn armchair, the weight of the world pressing on my weary shoulders. The urge to escape reality crept upon me, and I reached for a pack of cigarettes, the last remnants of a deadly vice. Flicking open the lighter, I ignited the tip, and the tendrils of smoke snaked their way into my lungs, momentarily soothing my restless soul.

As I exhaled, a cloud of gray haze swirled around me, obscuring the room like a veil of secrecy. Time seemed to stretch, each passing minute an eternity, as if awaiting an imminent reckoning. A twisted grin danced at the corners of my lips, for I knew that at any moment, a couple of ruthless goons could burst through the door, seeking to silence me. But I was not one to cower in fear; a good fight was always on the cards, a chance to prove my mettle.

Yet, amidst the swirling thoughts of danger and adrenaline, my gaze was drawn to the telephone on the nearby table. Oh, how I yearned to dial home, to hear the comforting voices of my Ma and Sister on the other end of the line.

They were my sanctuary in this treacherous world of shadows and bloodstained allegiances. But caution held me back, the instinct to protect them from the sinister web that entangled my existence.

In that solitary moment, the cigarette burned to ash, embers dying out like fleeting hopes. I remained there, shrouded in contemplation, my mind a battleground of conflicting desires. To pick up the phone and risk exposing them to the perils of my chosen path.

I twisted the dial, the sound of each ring echoing through the receiver, as if time itself hesitated to witness the reunion. On the fourth ring, a familiar voice, tinged with both curiosity and caution, pierced the silence. "Hello?" she uttered, her tone guarded yet tinged with a glimmer of hope.

The sound of her voice, so long absent from my ears, struck a chord deep within me. For a moment, I was rendered speechless by the weight of all that had transpired. But I mustered the courage to continue, to bridge the chasm that had formed between us. "Mel... It's me," I finally managed to utter, my voice laced with regret and longing. Silence hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken emotions.

"I know you hate me," I confessed, my words hanging in the void between us. "But please, just hear me out..." I pleaded, my heart yearning for understanding, for a chance at redemption. Yet, before I could delve further into my plea, the swift dial tone pierced through the line, a cold reminder of her rejection. She had hung up, cutting off the fragile connection that had momentarily flickered to life.

Left alone in the apartment, surrounded by a haze of smoke and the lingering scent of regrets, I grappled with the bitter truth. Tomorrow would likely be no different; the cycle of my existence destined to repeat itself. The questions of life, purpose, and belonging gnawed at my soul, their answers forever elusive in this treacherous world I had embraced.