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NOTE:
Here is chapter four guys! All the recent chapters are on Radish and I do plan on finishing this story fully on Radish. Life is just kicking butt and I'm procrastinating like crazy. I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to vote, comment, and share!

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0 4 | How Far We Go

C A L I X A C E

Souls once bound to a body lay lifeless on the chilling concrete concealed by ruinous shades. Blood trickled, a river into lakes of crimson, drenching and staining the ground as if one final signature on Earth that those men had lived hours before. They were painting the ground red with their gruesome remains. Their eyes were rolled toward the cries of the night, mimicking their pleas. The moon was a sculpture alongside it, emphasizing the silhouettes of this tragic painting and its unjust staging. Their skin was flushed of any color, of any life.

When Calix first got involved, a plethora of his men meeting their fates, he had allowed a sliver of dejection and guilt to slip in. The repetition, however, forced his feelings to harden from the sight and he had simply become numb to it. He couldn't feel anything. An emotionless expression, like then, coaxing his gaze as if any deviation of such would result in a thrash of difficulty.

He hadn't turned his gaze away from them either. He forced himself to look, to look at the recklessness he had caused because he hadn't been there. Because this had everything to do with fucking Delano Amour and Snake still being alive. As long as they were alive and breathing he was sure the invasions would continue because Calix was in a crossfire when he decided to claim a street near their territory and others. It was dangerous and he knew that. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game far more complicated than chess.

But this kind of business was about risk and strategy and if Calix hadn't taken that compromise the money and service wouldn't have been flowing in as much. Was it truly worth the bodies though? These people had families and things to get back home to, it didn't make them any less of a criminal, only more human. And now those that lay before him could never go home again.

"Clear it out," Calix ordered. The crew proceeded to follow his order, lifting the bodies and carrying them into the van. The act was swift and not an utterance of conversation was spoken, simply work and discarding. In most instincts though, if the bodies were retrieved the families would get a proper burial. In other instances, however, some families weren't as lucky. Calix couldn't count the number of funerals he had been to in the past decade. At some point, he started to lose count and he loathed the indifference which perfumed him after all these years, after all those deaths. Some jubilance piled into him because he knew that he was going to take great pleasure in killing Delano Amour. He cherished the idea like a siren song, lulling him into sanity like the sick bastard he was.

Once upon a time, the Amours stood neutral. Then Delano took over and jeopardized everything that Falandre Amour, their father, had built. Calix wasn't sure how the fucker survived this far without a bullet in his damn skull. A smile glistened at the corners of his lips at the thought of him pulling the trigger. But then there was Vulia Amour. The two had crossed paths on a variety of different occasions, but he always saw the hate and disgust swarming in her eyes whenever their gazes collided. Nothing more but a fleeting battle of semblance.

Until that night. It was more than just hate, a flicker of hunger grinding into her mannerisms like his touch was a drug she had clung to desperately. All breathless like he was the air she breathed. He loved every second of it. He had grown a small obsession with the way she said his name. But there was also something so particular about that hate, the intensity which crammed such a wilted bud of loathing into her chest that sparked Calix's interest. Because it seemed she didn't hate him because she wanted to, but because she had to. Calix told himself, though, that whatever was brewing between them had to remain nothing more than hate. He couldn't run into her again.

The rest of the sweep finished. Calix gave them thorough instructions to scout out the two areas that were attacked from a distance for the upcoming days. In addition, no transactions would be exchanged among any of the territories until a bullet was between both Snake's and Delano's eyes. He estimated about a week, but that wasn't particularly realistic considering the longer he wasn't dealing, the less exposure, leading to less money in the long haul.

Although there was nothing strategic about Delano's leadership, it didn't mean he didn't have allies. It was gonna take longer than a week. Calix had to learn his schedule, his routine. Then, he'd strike at the perfect time.

The drive back to his mansion was placidly silent. The windows to his black BMW i8 were lowered and the wind snuck in, caressing his skin. The car breathed, possessing the energy of a thousand sunrises as if colliding with the life of the city. A meditative bliss echoed as he cruised down those lanes, recalling the disruptive turn of events that fucked everything up. He was in a daze as a wave of light cast over him for minutes and minutes on end. Time was infinite and he became immortal at that moment. Because the truth was men like Calix didn't die. They lived forever even after their heart stopped beating. His name would be blessed and cursed among generations. He'd be a story that lived on forever.

In a matter of moments, Calix made it to the mansion. Not without going through a gate with a security code only known by few. He parked his car in his garage filled with his other cars and his brothers. Then he made his way to his office. The plan was to strategize. It was never too early to know what Delano's next move was and if he had any way of stopping it he would.

Calix pulled a bottle of whiskey from his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. He sat in the chair that resided in the corner next to the window that had a view of the entire estate. The room was quiet, an ambiance that forced one to think, falling into either trepidation or courage. Calix Ace fell into neither as if a god far beyond either adjective, the quiet neither a friend nor a foe to Calix. It was simply his comfort and what he preferred.

He sipped the brown liquid, gazing out at the dystopian-like woods scattering beyond the house. A path was centered in between the expanse of trees and from the distance, it was like a crack in the Earth, separating the two slabs of land. And in the crack hell resided. Exactly where he belonged. He took another sip, finally acknowledging the tick of the clock on the wall and then the abrupt knock on the door.

"Come in."

Maverick entered, closing the door behind him.

"You find anything on 30th?" Maverick questioned. A surge of agitation imploded Calix's senses at the question.

"This is Delano's doing," Calix confirmed.

"What made you gather that conclusion?" Maverick wondered as he stalked toward the window Calix had looked out of and watched the emptiness below. The moonlight drizzled in perfectly, spilling a pool of light into the room so it hadn't been completely absent of light.

"We're charting their territory. It's the most logical assumption and the fucker isn't discrete."

"So what's the plan? Kill him?"

A beat passed, long and eerie as the brothers gazed at nothing in particular in the window. As if outside that place was a reality and a world much different than where they resided.

"Initially," he stated and neither of them said a word for a long moment. Calix babysat his drink, contemplating his ideas.

"But? What changed Calix?"

"Nothing," he answered. "We have to wait it out a bit, then we strike."

"You think killing him is the solution. What about his sister? Won't she be a problem?"

"She won't be," he assured him. "At least not one we can't handle."

Maverick turned to look at his brother. Calix's expression was dead as if he hadn't felt anything at all for the words spilling from his lips.

"We're gonna kill off the Amour family over an invasion, Calix? Do you think that's logical?" Maverick challenged. Maverick was the youngest out of the three brothers, but he was the only one capable of challenging Calix's decisions and getting away with doing so.

"You really think meeting with him will be peaceful and end up in anything other than bloodshed?" Calix tsked, finishing off the liquor and then meeting his younger brother's equally blue gaze.

"I think that it's a possibility," he ensured. "If we kill off all the Amours we make even more enemies out of their allies. Because of who their father was, we know that they have strong allies."

Calix considered this and released a sigh.

"I'll meet with him," Calix agreed. "But if shit hits the fan--"

"It's nothing you can't handle," Maverick stated. Calix stood up and made it to his desk, pouring himself another drink. Maverick's phone chimed as Calix leaned against his desk and watched the liquid circle in the glass.

"Eryn is unconscious at the tattoo parlor in Rose Hill," Maverick read off, eyes still glued to the screen. He turned around at that point to relay the news to his brother.

"What the fuck happened?" Calix questioned. A queasy feeling bubbled in his gut, not for the right reasons either. His first notion should have gone to Eryn one of his devoted soldiers and occasional fuck buddy, but he couldn't help but think of Vulia. Guilt invaded as his spine straightened and he stood at his full height.

"I think she was hit in the head by one of the workers," Maverick stated.

"She'll be fine. Get her some medical attention and bring her back to the mansion," he instructed and Maverick nodded, sending a quick text and putting the phone away. Calix had an inkling of what may have gone down, but it was merely a theory until proven true.

"Why knock her unconscious though? Why not kill her?"

"Because it has nothing to do with us," he said, referring to Vulia's potential self-defense.

"But if you killed Snake and they found Eryn wouldn't they--"

"I didn't kill Snake. He wasn't there when I arrived."

"Shit," Maverick muttered. "You still plan on doing it?"

"Yes," was his simple reply.

Maverick agreed and then said, "I'm going to call it a night. Don't stay in here thinking too long."

Calix glared at him and Maverick raised his hands in defense, exiting the large room. Calix downed all of the drink and released a sigh. He relished in the moonlight, allowing it to see the darkest parts of himself. The parts he hid away from everyone. The chaos in his mind unraveled and it became too overbearing. He became a prisoner of his own thoughts. Fury skated in. He flung his glass into the wall next to the fireplace, the shards crashing and sprinkling onto the ground. The iridescent pieces glittered under the fragile light and he stared down at them.

Snake was supposed to die tonight and he failed. Delano was supposed to die. A wave of darkness invaded and Calix saw vermilion and black. If he could, he'd kill all of them, all of his enemies until there were none. He'd release the rage. He'd rule the entire city, fear treading in the tracks of strangers. And no remorse would linger in his soul if he acted upon such devious acts.

Suddenly, it was hot and all Calix could think of was destruction. Blood and pain. Fury and damage. He had become the villain that everyone saw him as long before he wanted or needed to. The evil was a part of him now and not even he could stop it. And for a glimpse of a moment he decided to carry out that plan. No one would be left and that satisfied him more than it should have. He had ultimate control. But he decided to give Maverick's idea a chance and although every voice in him screamed that a peaceful approach was bullshit, he decided maybe Maverick had some sort of perspective that Calix had been too blind to see. Maybe in the end it could bring him more money and power.

A fragment of hope, but that was enough for everything to spiral out of its original state. That fragment of hope, the lesser of greed, may have destroyed everything.

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That night restlessness caught up to him in the form of nightmares. When he lay down in his bed an unshakable wreckage blossomed in those night terrors. He had risen from the sheets and the comforter, something unsettling clawing at his brain. Every death he had caused came back to hunt him, possessing and pooling madness from him. So much so that he didn't claim any sleep for the rest of the night, watching the filaments of green and brown tame the world under a darkened sky outside his window. He was a lurking wickedness, always hidden but present.

He watched and waited and watched and waited some more until crescents dabbed under his eyes. The sun's birth was gradual as the crescent gold tamed the sky outside his window through those precious duvet curtains. He basked in the delicate warmth as if a haven from the dread that was imposed upon him subconsciously.

The sun fully recovered, signaling that morning had been there. The sun shined on him like he had been some fucking archangel from above and not the devil that everyone knew him as. His hair was tousled, and his skin glistened. There was some stubble ebbing at his chin, some close to the base of his throat, but it had been almost unnoticeable. Then, there were those dilated irises that were so bright and steely as they moved and connected with the sky. So bright and artful and symbolic. Everything that he wasn't. He was chaotic, yet dangerous in the form of something beautiful. He was a tragic sin crafted from divinity and brutal destruction. He was all things holy and unsanctified.

Knocks echoed at his door and then it opened before Calix could give an answer. Eryn was at his bedroom door as soon as she awoke. It was as if the first thing she had envisioned in her head was the reunion with Calix. A silk purple nightgown hung low on her body, the fabric barely caressing her ass cheeks. Her hair rested below her shoulders in dark, long layers. She approached Calix with a certain ambition to the flecks in her hazel-tinted eyes.

She closed the door behind them as she loitered into the privacy of Calix Ace's room. Hardly anyone came in there and he never fucked in there either. Eryn and Calix usual activities had been done in either her specific bedroom or Temptation in one of the backrooms depending on how he had been feeling. She looked so...frazzled yet joyful to see him. Calix couldn't say the same.

"What the hell happened last night, Eryn?" he threatened as she gazed at him with something close to limerence, profound care bordering love, even.

"I had a plan. If I killed Vulia it'd weaken Delano," she informed.

"That was fucking stupid," he insulted. "Do you know what you've done?"

"I was trying to save you, Calix. If Delano doesn't die then you will."

"I'm not going to die," he stated as if it had been a certainty he had conjured himself. As if all the philosophers and astrologers had determined that Calix Ace was fucking indestructible and that his fate hadn't been sealed within the stars, but tethered to the soil instead. "What did you do to her?"

"I wasn't able to do anything. She was able to escape, but I know her schedule and I know how we can hurt Delano. It's through his family."

Calix gaze was hardened on Eryn. There was nothing tender and soft about their exchange.

"Don't touch her again."

Eryn looked taken aback by his words. He wasn't one for empty threats either. He never claimed to be a good man and when he looked at Eryn there was something intangible in his eye. He looked completely and utterly serious like a madman.

"W-what?" she stammered, trying to clamor a sentence and analyze what he had just said.

"Don't. Touch. Her," he replied. "She isn't involved."

And she wasn't meant for it like a flower in the snow. The snow was harsh, mere sleets of desolation in comparison to that of a flower. The snow would chill it and wilt its petals because it didn't belong and although it was so adjacent to nature, it didn't fit in such a minacious environment.

"You're crazy if you think she will be innocent in all of this," she hypothesized. "She's gonna pose a bigger threat than you think, Calix."

"I'll handle her," he assured her. "I want you to give me everything you know about her schedule."

Eryn didn't say much and did as she was instructed until Calix dismissed her. There was shame, hurt, and betrayal in her eyes as she departed. He had an inkling that that particular look would dissipate soon though. Her allyship always reigned true to the Ace family.

When Calix was alone again he stared at Vulia's schedule and everything in him said to let her be, to return to his original objective. He couldn't. No matter how hard he tried to stay away she was always there in the crevices. There was always some sort of passing or furiously intense exchange. Then when he fucked her at Temptation he couldn't deny that he had been drawn to this woman. And maybe there was a reason why he couldn't stay away even if he hoped otherwise. And why would Calix Ace ever deny himself of great pleasure as such? He was treading dangerous waters, though, and if he decided to act upon his thoughts it would lead to a catastrophic collapse.

She had the potential to be his greatest downfall and the saddest thing of all was that he'd let her. His douceur. His flower. His worst enemy. Kingdoms would crash, flames licking the corners of foundations and Calix would stand in the blazes. He was used to the fire, but he hadn't been ready for the fall. And one thought consumed his mind after everything that unfolded; he had to have her. Even if he knew he couldn't, not truly. And he hated her for that.

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TO BE CONTINUED

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