Ionian Gangster Boy - Book 2

by Mikey Simpson

thoughts were cloudy from his deep sleep. ‘OK, I’ll be down in a minute.’ He placed the receiver down and held his head in his hands before ruffling his hair and yawning. He walked around the room like a zombie until he bumped into the coffee table near the French windows, here he had left his clothes. He got dressed and then opened his balcony blinds, to let brilliant sunshine enter the room. Minutes later Morgan walked unevenly through the vast hotel lobby. He was unsure whether it was his injury or sandals which weren’t tightened properly, that made him feel off balance. Suddenly she was there right in front of him. It would appear, today she was happy to see him.

  ‘Hello Morgan! Did you sleep well?’ she looked into his eyes.

  ‘What time is it?’ he yawned then smiled back.

  ‘Time for us to take in a little sight seeing.’ she was excited.

  ‘Do what!’

  ‘Don’t you want to see more of the island, before you leave?’ she crossed her arms in annoyance at his lack of interaction.

  ‘I was hoping to relax by the pool and maybe sleep some more!’ he pointed out of the lobby to the panoramic view of the inviting pool and palm trees.

  She was having none of it. ‘Well! Whether you like it or not you’re coming with me.’ she said with determination, she took him by the arm and began to pull him in the direction of the car park.

  ‘Hang on a minute!’ he dug in his heals. ‘I need to get some things from my hotel room.’ they both agreed and then turned back to walk together. They laughed at one another's stubborn behaviour.

  An hour later they had driven well out of the main resort and were approaching their first tourist attraction. ‘I would like to take you to my mother's village, where she was born. The Church of Ayios Lazaros is a significant religious place for my family and the island. Come I will show you.’ she parked the car along a dusty side street in the old village and then led Morgan up its steps. Inside the ceiling and walls were ornately decorated with gold leaf and religious paintings of the saint. ‘It is named after Lazarus of Bethany. Jesus raises him from the dead, but then after Christ's resurrection he was forced to flee Judea because of rumoured plots on his life and so he came to Cyprus. Here, he was appointed by Paul and Barnabas, as the first Bishop of Larnaca. He lived for a further thirty more years and on his death was buried here for the second and last time. In 1972, human remains were discovered in a marble sarcophagus under the altar and were identified as part of the saint's relics. We commemorate him each year on October 17th.’ Morgan was indeed impressed by her grasp of Cypriot history. She walked alongside him, as they marvelled at the vast structure of the Church. Then they bowed in front of the figure of Jesus Christ nailed to his crucifix. She mumbled a short prayer, and then moved over to the side of the church to light a candle.

  Morgan was moved, since the loss of his mother he had always shunned the notion of religion and decided to abstain from practice. Now in the presence of Ismene he too lit a candle in memory of both his mother and father.

  Their next attraction was to take in the sights of The Old Aqueduct known as "The Kamares", as they travelled back to the coast via Larnaca's outskirts. Once again Ismene talked to Morgan about the past. ‘It was built by the Ottoman Governor Koca Bekir Pasha in Roman style in 1745, to carry water from a source about 6 miles south of Larnaca into the town.’

  She was not only pretty but intelligent he thought as he looked on at the arched structure, like a railway viaduct that crossed the landscape as far as the eye could see. It was an impressive piece of engineering.

  The tour continued into the afternoon as they drove on to Hala Sultan Tekke. Ismene pointed ahead of them towards the domed roof of the Mosque of Umm Haram. ‘It is a supremely elegant Muslim shrine, can you see it?’

  Morgan nodded as he saw the structure appear out of a barren landscape like an oasis the Mosque had palm trees clustered around its complex.

  Ismene elaborated. ‘Umm Haram (Hala Sultan in the Turkish language) was the Islamic prophet Muhammad's foster mother. Umm Haram, being of extremely old age, had fallen from her mule and had died during a siege of Larnaca. She was buried near the salt lake, and her grave became a sacred shrine. The shrine, and later the Mosque and the whole complex was named after her.

  It was all fascinating and as the day flashed by, he found himself at ease with Ismene. A peace, he had not felt for what seemed like an eternity. Gradually the day started to fade once again into night as they started their journey back through Larnaca back to the hotel.

  That evening they realised that they had not eaten all day, so Morgan invited Ismene to dine with him. The dress code was strictly suits and dresses, so he sent her down to the hotel shops and asked her to pick out an outfit. As they got changed for their evening meal the boy felt immensely happy. He waited out on the balcony for her to shower and get changed. When they walked out for dinner he admired Ismene's choice of dress. It was black, figure hugging with only one strap over the right shoulder and was very sexy. On entering the restaurant she stole glances from many men as they passed by to a corner table. He was inadequately dressed in comparison, but he carried himself confidently as he escorted her along.

  When they sat and ordered their courses he asked for the most expensive steaks and champagne, his male ego wanted to impress her with the finer things in life. Their meal progressed nicely as they talked and laughed as if they had known each other forever, it would seem that she had forgotten his violent past as if she could see the younger calm person he used to be. Morgan could feel she brought the best out of him, and he liked it, but he also knew he should keep his emotions in check, for tomorrow he would be leaving to face the reality of what he had to do to survive. They enjoyed each others company so much that they were the last couple to leave the restaurant. Morgan left a twenty euro tip as compensation to their waiter.

  It was now eleven o’clock and Ismene broke away from him to make a call, when she returned she slipped her hand in his and kissed him on the cheek. She led him back to the room, and they climbed into bed, not a word was said as they caressed each other. They frantically kissed and smiled at one another looking deep into each other’s eyes. Morgan waited for Ismene to make the moves, enjoying her soft loving touch. She made him feel so happy and complete as they felt each other’s body move in unison. They held one another until they both became one, connected in body and mind, then made love over and over again. She held him in her arms her bracelet lying on Morgan’s chest as he fell asleep.

  That night Morgan felt more relaxed than ever. His mind opened to the possibility of a life away from violence, his dreams were of the good things, about a relationship that could span a lifetime. His entire subconscious swirled in the dizzy heights of laughter and pleasurable times, a house, a car, and a life without looking over his shoulders. In his dreams, the two of them were together. Everything was perfect until suddenly his dreams clouded, and the bad men entered to tear at his world until he was left with nothing.

  He woke from a deep sleep sweat dripping from his body and for a moment in the darkness of the room he was confused, until Ismene pulled him near and comfort him. She put her arms around him and held him close like a child until they both ignited the flames of love, his demons banished by his thoughts of passion. Morgan’s mind was blown away not only was she beautiful and bright but she knew exactly how to light a spark in bed.

  Morgan fell back to sleep for a while but was woken by Ismene as she took a shower, he eventually moved and dropped out of the bed his aching muscles and loins a result of the active night they had just encountered. He stumbled and pulled on some shorts before lighting a cigarette and venturing out onto the balcony which overlooked the central pool area of the complex. The balcony was in the shade, but the air warm the palm trees rustled a little with the slight breeze flowing over the beach from the crystal blue sea. He looked at the sky it was free from clouds and then made a decision. Today his aching leg needed to rest they would spend the day in the hotel
.

  An hour later they were refreshed, dressed and in the restaurant eating breakfast. Morgan ate fruit and had juice while Ismene chose pastry. They both had a strong coffee and then ventured through the hotels shops. She picked out a classy black bikini that was charged to his room, and then they gathered a few things together to take down to the pool. Ismene placed his phone and ipod into his bag pack and instinctively rummaged around it. ‘What's this!’ she said pulling out his pistol and holding it between her thumb and finger.

  It was a sign of the current situation. ‘Oh!’ he frowned with sadness and then walked over to her and took it from her hand, he looked her in the eye. ‘I need it for protection.’ he carefully checked it and placed it back in the bag, as she moved away from him and sat on the bed.

  ‘Have you used it?’

  ‘Only when the need arises!’

  ‘So it’s true that you are a killer?’ her voice aired a sign of discussed.

  ‘Kill or be killed!’ he cleared his throat and swallowed nervously, he could tell she was annoyed.

  ‘It’s a sign of the times, the chaos I’m now living in and the need to protect myself. The people who are after me are monsters, they kill every day, I’m not going