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Betrayal Tastes Bitter
“I’ m really sorry, Crissy. Honestly! You must understand that. Don’t take it personally. In a way I like you and …”
“Bastard!” said Crissy and spat into the middle of her ex-lover’s handsome face.
Mario wiped the spit casually from his cheek, then he looked at her, smiling, and raised his hand. The blow sent her head reeling. There was a ringing in her head and a groan slipped from her lips.
“All the best, Crissy. As I said, don’t take it personally,” said Mario and turned away.
He slowly walked away and went to his brother who was waiting with a boat at the edge of the small island.
Crissy pulled at the ropes, but she knew that Mario had tied her up so tightly that she would have no chance of escaping. He was an expert – the eldest son of Don Mario, the godfather of Jacksonville. She had known nothing about his family when she met him in a bar a year ago. In fact, she had learnt the truth a very short while ago. Happily engaged, the wedding planned, she thought at first that she could live with the fact that Mario was a member of the dreaded Mancini family. But then she unexpectedly witnessed the assassination of a rival and his little daughter by Toni and another member of the family. If it had not been for the little daughter, she may have even been able to cope with this, but seeing an eight-year-old riddled with bullet holes by a machine gun was such a shock that she threatened to call the police. A mistake – she now had to angrily admit this to herself. That is why she was now standing up to her neck in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia, surrounded by nothing but black water and clumps of cypress trees. She was tied to a stake. The water, full of water lilies, looked deceptively tranquil, but the alligators would definitely not need to be asked twice to partake of such a tasty morsel.
Again she tried to free herself.
“Shit! Bloody hell! Fucking shit!” she ranted with frustration. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Keep calm! Think! There must be something you can do. Just keep calm, Crissy! Think!”
Suddenly she felt movements in the water and she threw her eyes open. A scream came from her lips.
At least three alligators were heading directly to the spot where she stood, helplessly tied up. Only their eyes and noses showed above the water.
“No!” she whispered. “No! God, no! Go away you little bastards! Get lost! Shoo! Piss off!”
In despair she tore at her ropes. In panic she thrashed about, as much as the tethers would allow. Nothing helped. She could not save herself. Tears filled her eyes and she screamed.
She suddenly heard a whirring sound. An arrow hit one of the animals right between the eyes. It began to jerk wildly, creating turbulent waves. The other alligators rushed towards their injured companion – a short breathing space, which would definitely not last indefinitely.
Crissy looked around. After all, somebody must have fired the arrow. Then a giant of a man broke through the undergrowth. He wore army trousers and a khaki-coloured shirt. His appearance, including the sight of his muscles, reminded her a little of Rambo. The crossbow in his hand completed the image. His black hair was tied into a pony tail. One look at his face made her scream with shock. The right-hand side of his face was that of a breathtakingly handsome man, but the left half was completely deformed – possibly by fire.
She had no time to wonder whether her rescuer was a friend or an enemy because the alligators seemed to have renewed their interest in their original catch and were swimming towards her. Rambo jumped into the water and pulled a long machete from his belt. He hastily cut through her ropes and pulled her up onto dry land.
“Can you run?”
She nodded.
“My boat! There!”
He took her hand and pulled her along. Not a moment too soon – two alligators had already climbed onto the bank at the spot where she had been
Betrayal Tastes Bitter
“I’ m really sorry, Crissy. Honestly! You must understand that. Don’t take it personally. In a way I like you and …”
“Bastard!” said Crissy and spat into the middle of her ex-lover’s handsome face.
Mario wiped the spit casually from his cheek, then he looked at her, smiling, and raised his hand. The blow sent her head reeling. There was a ringing in her head and a groan slipped from her lips.
“All the best, Crissy. As I said, don’t take it personally,” said Mario and turned away.
He slowly walked away and went to his brother who was waiting with a boat at the edge of the small island.
Crissy pulled at the ropes, but she knew that Mario had tied her up so tightly that she would have no chance of escaping. He was an expert – the eldest son of Don Mario, the godfather of Jacksonville. She had known nothing about his family when she met him in a bar a year ago. In fact, she had learnt the truth a very short while ago. Happily engaged, the wedding planned, she thought at first that she could live with the fact that Mario was a member of the dreaded Mancini family. But then she unexpectedly witnessed the assassination of a rival and his little daughter by Toni and another member of the family. If it had not been for the little daughter, she may have even been able to cope with this, but seeing an eight-year-old riddled with bullet holes by a machine gun was such a shock that she threatened to call the police. A mistake – she now had to angrily admit this to herself. That is why she was now standing up to her neck in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia, surrounded by nothing but black water and clumps of cypress trees. She was tied to a stake. The water, full of water lilies, looked deceptively tranquil, but the alligators would definitely not need to be asked twice to partake of such a tasty morsel.
Again she tried to free herself.
“Shit! Bloody hell! Fucking shit!” she ranted with frustration. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Keep calm! Think! There must be something you can do. Just keep calm, Crissy! Think!”
Suddenly she felt movements in the water and she threw her eyes open. A scream came from her lips.
At least three alligators were heading directly to the spot where she stood, helplessly tied up. Only their eyes and noses showed above the water.
“No!” she whispered. “No! God, no! Go away you little bastards! Get lost! Shoo! Piss off!”
In despair she tore at her ropes. In panic she thrashed about, as much as the tethers would allow. Nothing helped. She could not save herself. Tears filled her eyes and she screamed.
She suddenly heard a whirring sound. An arrow hit one of the animals right between the eyes. It began to jerk wildly, creating turbulent waves. The other alligators rushed towards their injured companion – a short breathing space, which would definitely not last indefinitely.
Crissy looked around. After all, somebody must have fired the arrow. Then a giant of a man broke through the undergrowth. He wore army trousers and a khaki-coloured shirt. His appearance, including the sight of his muscles, reminded her a little of Rambo. The crossbow in his hand completed the image. His black hair was tied into a pony tail. One look at his face made her scream with shock. The right-hand side of his face was that of a breathtakingly handsome man, but the left half was completely deformed – possibly by fire.
She had no time to wonder whether her rescuer was a friend or an enemy because the alligators seemed to have renewed their interest in their original catch and were swimming towards her. Rambo jumped into the water and pulled a long machete from his belt. He hastily cut through her ropes and pulled her up onto dry land.
“Can you run?”
She nodded.
“My boat! There!”
He took her hand and pulled her along. Not a moment too soon – two alligators had already climbed onto the bank at the spot where she had been
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