The Gangsters Mistress # 3 - Last note PG 58 - Page 24

Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that

Martin Luther King Jr.

A dramatic sigh escaped from her lips as she gently eased onto the ground, selfishly making her fall gentle and painless. Geet the wise philosopher, the scientist and the breasted version of Shakespeare had a phenomenal theory about fainting. If a situation arises whereby an individual is compelled to faint, then why experience the brunt of pain that is associated whence toppling over onto the ground? What are the odds that a Damon Salvatore would sweep your unconscious body into his masculine arms and save your backside from smarting due to the impacted fall. None! Therefore why inflict yourself with pain? Which daft human resources had stated that a person has to faint BODILY that is in simple terms ...literally fall on your face and crack your brains open in order to depict a successful fainting procedure! I beg to differ! Geet thought to herself as she allowed her eyelids to remain closed. A person could also fall to their knees and subsequently slide sideways onto the ground in a dead faint. Moreover, was there a rule against gently laying down in preparing for a phase of unconsciousness? I think not!

For a superficial and shallow second, Geet panicked in remembrance that in her haste to torture Maan Singh Khurana she had stupidly forgotten to apply some mascara. Lord have mercy could she ever look attractive in any situation? Instead of seducing the man and entrapping him with her beauty, she was currently laying dead onto the ground with no spot of mascara to prove to the world that she has eyelashes! Joy to the world she even had to have her eyes closed for a better view. Geet chided herself in annoyance. She had been so confident about her triumph that she had not planned any emergency backups in case the situation went against her plans. After all, she had not trapped some minor little criminal but the Don of the underworld. The least she could have done was appeared seductive in case she had to use her beauty to prevent him from shooting a bullet through her heart. Now here she was, lying vulnerable and open to attack with no sign of any eyelashes to defend her. What reason did the bas***d have to keep her alive?

Her body stiffened the moment his footsteps led towards her 'apparent' unconscious form. She used every ounce of strength to refrain from trembling as he knelt before her in silence. Curious to open her eyes and see what he was quietly observing was instantly replaced with self consciousness as he leaned closer towards her upturned face. This fateful-lack-of-eyelash-day would be forever carved onto her tombstone. Have some self respect Geet! She scolded herself in dismay. He was the enemy. He had killed her brother ruthlessly, causing her to become an orphan the second time in her life. Granted, he had not been her blooded brother but the family had welcomed the loveless orphan into their arms and for once made her feel wanted. She may have not been able to instill any love or affection in her brothers heart but she owed his deceased parents the justice their son deserved.

Geet's thoughts were disrupted as his fingers gently caressed her smarting cheek. She could have sworn that his fingers were slightly trembling as if he could not contain the inner turmoils of seeing any mark of pain marring her existence. This time Geet could not prevent the frown, this man was a paradox. On many occasions he tried to kill her, whether it was shooting her down, choking her or drowning her. Yet on other occasions, he would destroy a pole just merely because she had risked her life climbing atop it, he would shoot a traffic light in haste to take her to the hospital and he would gaze affectionately at her direction when he thought she hadn't noticed him staring. This just reinforced her initial perception, he could not be trusted. Geet wanted to punch her stomach and kill all the butterflies from flying around! For a second she pondered whether there were any sprays that could be used to disinfect the bugs prancing royally around her stomach. For the millionth time his actions mind raped her into oblivion. Replacing his fingers, she felt his lips gently place a kiss on her cheeks as if to soothe or kiss away her hurt. She must have gasped aloud because his body stiffened instantly in awareness.

Risking a peak at his direction, Geet slightly opened her left eye and noticed him staring angrily at the wall, obviously breaking away from his trance. His jaw was clenched as he burned holes onto the walls with his burning eyes. Good God but he was an insanely beautiful man. Geet cringed in shame whilst staring at his extremely thick eyelashes. Surely there must be male extensions available in some corner of a hair dresser or beauty salon? Surely those cannot be real, she wondered in feminine despair. He turned his head back to her direction and she quickly closed her eyes once again. Geet felt his arms beginning to wrap around her back in preparation to carry her. However it seemed like he changed his mind as she sensed him raising onto his feet. Why was he taking so long to simply pick her up and carry her? At that moment Geet felt him wrap his hands around one of her legs. What the! Her mental exclamation was cut off as she felt her body being dragged on the ground. Geet's eyes snapped open in horror as she realized that the heartless piece of shit was actually dragging her on the floor as if she were his own personal vacuum! How dare he treat her like a broomstick! The humiliation of having one of her legs dangling in the air as he casually pulled her body with every step was unbearable.

He stopped in his tracks when he encountered a high ascending staircase. Geet prayed with every fiber of her being that he would not be so cruel to drag her up the stairs. The pain would kill her. Just as she was about to open her eyes and announce that she had regained consciousness, Maan dropped her leg. Geet fought the triumphant grin, now where talking mister! Her amusement vanished away as he used his foot to carelessly turn her body around. Flat faced onto the hard cold ground, Geet could not help but remember that night when he had used his foot to stop her from tumbling into the pond. This time she did open her eyes and scream as he grabbed the back of her shirt with one hand and the material of her pants with the other and hauled her up from the ground. This was the limit! Being dragged on the ground was another thing but being pulled up in this position was barbaric. The material he was clutching from her pant area was literally fingers away from touching her VAGAYGAY! 'STOP' she shouted, 'I can walk!'

Maan paid no heed to her words and continued ascending the staircase. 'Put me down this instance' she shrieked, 'I'm telling you that I can walk on my own!'. Maan raised his eyebrows 'I thought you were unconscious'. Geet stared at the ground since that the was the only place she could face, "the way you are carrying me could even wake up the dead from their eternal slumber". Maan clucked his tongue and shook his head, "is this position too awkward for you your highness?" Maan continued in his sarcastic tone, "could it be due to the fact that my hands are inches away from your Vagina?" Geet howled in embarrassment. "DONT SAY THAT WORD!" she cried in humiliation. Maan could not help but chuckle in amusement. "Seems like I have touched on a sensitive subject" Maan mused, biting back his smile. Geet's dirty mind associated the key words 'touched, sensitive and subject' and assumed that it was an indirect description of her private parts. 'I promise the moment you set me down I will unman you!' she threatened.

Fortunately, her disgraceful position did not last for long as he set her down before the limousine parked outside the building. Maan nodded his head towards the vehicle and motioned her to get inside. Geet cocked up an eyebrow in retaliation, did he really think with a simple jerk of his head that she would willingly step into her own downfall? Maan sighed and looked at the guard beside him. God knew how, but the guard nodded his head and retrieved a gun from within his jacket and handed it to the boss. The gesture was enough for Geet to rapidly pull the handle of the car in eagerness to hide inside. But before she stepped in, Geet had to do something that was for uttermost importance. The journey ahead would be filled with obstacles and Geet had to be prepared to face them with everything she had. With that thought lingering in her mind, Geet raised her head in arrogance and very stylishly applied to the imperative task of pulling out her wedgie. Task of importance completed, Geet stepped inside the vehicle - slamming the door shut on a very amused Gangster.

One does not simply journey across the world carrying the discomfort of a wedgie. The issue of her camel-toe however was another task she had to complete, somehow.

* * * * * *

Days of absence, sad and dreary. Clothed in sorrows dark array.

Days of absence, I am weary. She, I love is far away.

William Shakespeare

He could feel her presence like a tingling prick to his skin. Every aspect of his senses were consistently aware of every breath that she took whilst deep in a slumber. Maan turned to her and shook his head, questioning his own sanity. There she lay with her face glued to the window, her nose upturned like a pig and stuck to the glass whilst drool was escaping from her open mouthed snores. Attractive. He should have been disgusted with her display of unfeminine traits, but to his despair he could only think of one word to describe her: Cute. Maan rubbed his tingling chest and stopped instantly, aware that there was a burning sensation in his heart. When he realized that he had been indirectly rubbing at his heart, he tightened his hand into a fist.

She was his enemy, He was a fool for allowing her to live for so long. But the question in fact was, why did he allow her to live? He had found out about her plans earlier than why did he not simply end the facade right then? Why did he prolong it? When did he begin to rationalize with his heart instead of using his brain? Did he allow her to continue with the act because somewhere deep within the contours of his blackened heart, he had hoped, hoped that it was not just a facade. That maybe she had began to feel something for him.

"Drive faster!" he rasped out in a harsh voice. Words could not begin to describe how disgusted he was with the track of his own thoughts. He did not care damn it, he could not care! She was his captive and eventually the outcome would be concluded with her death. Just the mere thought of not seeing her smile or even drool on a window caused his heart to clench painfully. "She is your enemy" Maan spoke to himself, 'just an enemy". The car encountered a bump, causing Geet to topple over face down onto the ground of the limousine. The impact must have activated a bomb to diffuse within her being as she unconsciously let out a fart in her slumber. Maan closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, consciously aware of the smell beginning to spread throughout the vehicle. Geet smiled in her sleep and continued to snore away.

Surely after that Maan would have crossed out any romantic notions of her from his head. However as his eyes continued to gaze at her sleeping form, he unconsciously raised his hands and lightly touched his burning heart. There was no denying that when a man continued to affectionately gaze at a woman after she diffused a farting bomb and polluted the air ..that he must surely without a doubt be a man utterly out of his mind or merely just insanely, head over heals and irrecoverably in love.