Shadows of the past i te.., p.38
Shadows of the Past I (Temporary Bliss #2), page 38
“What do you want, Roman?”
The cunt has the audacity to smile, then wink at me. He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, studying me up and down. “What did you do this time?”
Looking at him in the daylight, the familiar features on his face stand out even more. He’s just reminding me of Danya. Fucking hell, I remind myself of Danya.
“This time?” I growl. He looks too fresh this morning, put together, dressed in a clean black T-shirt and cargo pants. Gone is the gorilla from the other night, now mister Calm has taken his place. “What the fuck do you want, Roman?”
“Calm down, princess. What crawled up your ass?” He doesn’t sound riled up. If anything, he seems satisfied with my annoyance. Of course he would be, he was shooting daggers at me because I was sitting too close to Ray the other night.
I rub my eyes, blinking the sleep away, hoping he will disappear if I don’t look right at him, but he’s still there. I look around the bedroom, wishing for the floor to crack open and swallow me whole. Scheduling a meeting with the frozen concrete won’t be such a bad idea.
“Just leave me the fuck alone.” I point at the door. The fucker laughs! He laughs in my face, wholeheartedly, the sound resonating in the room.
“With pleasure,” he says, still grinning as he walks out the door. I almost throw something after him. Smug cretin.
The rest of the day carries on pretty much in the same way. I pace around for a while, since I can’t even manage to sit still, and shoot Ray an angry text here and there, hoping that will get a response out of him. Anything is better than being ignored at this point, I guess. Leaving the room isn’t really an option, since whenever I do Roman doesn’t miss the opportunity to open his shithole. I get a break when Mark replies and we establish that I’ll go see his place on the 27th, even move straight away if it’s to my liking.
Of course, Raymond keeps quiet, despite the vitriolic shit I throw at him. At least some things never change. The more he ignores me, the angrier I get. I realize I can’t stop and it’s stupid if I think about it. We’ve been at odds with each other in the past as well, perhaps worse. The time when he almost snapped my wrist off after that party comes to mind, but I felt different back then. Now I can’t unglue myself from the bloody phone and the more time passes, the worse it gets. It’s bad enough I feel like crying some more and it’s unthinkable. Why and how did I end up like this, I got no fuckin’ clue, but I hate the way it feels, and I want it to stop. I want it to stop because otherwise I will make it stop. The wound in my palm is mostly closed so it doesn’t give me satisfaction anymore. I stub my toe on purpose and let out a string of curses, allowing my head to clear for a bit, but the satisfaction is short-lived. By the end of the evening, I can’t stop shaking so I put on some warm clothes and go out on the terrace.
Predictably, Roman gets up from whatever he was doing on the couch and shadows me from a distance. It only makes me angrier. These people think so highly of themselves, seeing me as the stupid child who can’t be left alone, when it’s clear they’re more messed up than I’ll ever be. The thought feeds a different kind of anger in me, it breeds violence by the shitload. Fine. Fuck it. If he wants to watch me, at least I’ll make it interesting.
I pile snow together on the terrace and build several snowmen close to the large windows as if they’re peeking in, with shoddy eyes made out of black olives and frozen carrots to go for noses. They’re misaligned and kind of creepy. More than creepy. They’re sinister.
“You got a screw loose,” Roman observes from next to the terrace door as he inspects my army of disfigured snowmen, smoking a cigarette in a very casual manner. “You’re making a strong case for it. Perhaps we should put you in the nutter.”
I dust off my gloves, glancing at the darkening sky above. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Roman, eh?”
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you. Ray’s not here to put up with your bullshit.”
Oh, boy, he’s just asking for it. Ray. Yes, the same Ray whose bullshit I have to put up with. If he only knew. But he doesn’t. Or maybe he does but he just enjoys making my life even more miserable.
I stop next to my creation, eyeing Roman. He hasn’t even put on a jacket. He’s just looking so casual, as if being outside in a T-shirt in sub-zero temperatures is no biggie. That’s how cool this big boy is. He’s so cool he’s practically begging to be brought down off his pedestal.
“What the fuck’s your problem? Do you just get a kick out of making fun of me? Is that it?”
He grins. The shadows setting in give him an evil allure. The tiny silver cross at his neck glints in the artificial light. I can’t imagine him kneeling in front of a priest and praying to the big boss upstairs. Does he blame the good old G for killing Evsey’s folks? Is that how he deals with his shit, because that’s called being deluded and a bit of a psycho in my book. I’d ask, except I don’t give a rat’s ass about his beliefs or his existence. Dealing with stupidity requires effort and energy I don’t have to spare.
“This is a lot of fun. You’re all bark, but no bite. At least Danya fought back.”
I mumble under my breath, cursing him, Danya and the entire Petrov family. They can all go fuck themselves. And Ray can follow.
***
I can’t sleep. It’s past midnight. It’s fuckin’ Christmas already and all I’ve done is pacing or standing by the window, almost pulling my hair out of my head, going in circles and circles and fuckin’ circles.
I put a pillow over my face and scream into it. It doesn’t help. I’ve been staring at people’s windows, at the coloured flashing of the fairy lights inside their warm, peaceful houses. I fuckin’ hate them all. I hope they choke on their food and their Christmas trees collapse.
No reply. Not even a tiny fuck you, nothing. He’s fuckin’ ghosting me. That’s how much I mean to him.
u know how u keep telling me to grow up? u should do some growing urself
I throw the phone on the bed. I’m being childish. I know. I’m the one taunting him. I get it. I don’t fuckin’ care. I pick it up again.
can’t believe u’re doin this to me
I rub my eyes, breathing hard. “Fuckin’ say something. I fuckin’ hate you!” Screaming at the phone never gets the results one expects. I’d smash it against a wall if it wouldn’t be so difficult to buy a new one.
u’re being so fckin immature ray
That’s it, I’m fuckin’ done. I need to cool my brains off. I need a cold shower. More than one. I can’t fuckin’ cry again. That shithead downstairs will make fun of me if he finds me like this. I hope he fuckin’ dies. I hope they all die.
I get out of the room in a fit of madness. The door slams loudly behind me. I make my way to the bathroom, but heavy footsteps draw my attention. The light downstairs is still on, so his ugly mug is clear. I stop in front of the stairs and stare down at him, itching for a fight.
“What the hell do you want now?”
“What are you doing?” he narrows his eyes.
“I want to take a shower, or can’t I even scrub my ass without your approval?”
He huffs, stops on the stairs. “Yeah? You better leave the door unlocked, then. We don’t want you to drown in the tub.”
“You’re such a cunt that even expletives are wasted on you.”
“Yeah, well, fuck you too.”
“What is it that Danya did to you that you can’t stand seeing me, Ro-ro?” I lean against the banister, staring him down. “You jelly much, that it?”
He stops in his tracks, then climbs the steps until he reaches me. There’s something on his face which terrifies me, but I do my best to stand my ground and refuse to move even an inch out of his way.
“I don’t like you because you are a pathetic little shit who uses Raymond the way he sees fit,” he growls.
“Gee, aren’t you such an irate monkey?”
He sticks a finger in my chest, towering over me all mean looking. “I see through your bullshit, Sasha. Don’t believe I’m stupid even for a second, because you won’t know what hit you.”
I bare my teeth, staring him up. “Wasn’t deluding myself, don’t worry. But you might want to tone down the whole alpha male shit ‘cuz it’s a bit too obvious.”
He leans even lower, his nose close to mine. I press back against the banister, trying to maintain the distance.
“You might’ve fooled him with this whole damsel in distress act you’ve got going, and that’s fine, because he’s a bit like that, he cares too much, you know? But you’re not fooling me. You’re a manipulative little shit and you’ve been screwing with his head ever since you’ve showed up.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snarl.
“I know what you’re capable of because I saw it with my own eyes,” he says and takes a step back, as if he’s ready to leave, but then he leans back towards me. “And I also know his face wasn’t scratched when I left him the other night. I also know he left in the morning because of you. His men talk, so don’t believe even for a second that I’m not aware of it. Got me, Shurochka?” he says mockingly. How come I’m the fuckin’ bad guy every single time? They keep saying that, I’m going to end up believing it and god forbid the outcome, because it will end up ugly.
“Oh yeah? You think you know shit, Roman?” He shoves me back in the banister with a push of his hand. “Perhaps you know the state he was in when he came back that night too,” I say through my teeth. “Or if you’re so smart, then maybe you can tell me why he left so suddenly, since you know so much shit about us.”
His brow twitches and I can tell it bothers him. It bothers him that I know, that I was there with Ray when he had his meltdown, it bothers him that he saw us close together and I love every second of it. Hell, perhaps he’s even bothered Ray’s treating him like a hound meant to guard my back. I see it now, he’s been pretending to be so detached, but it’s been gnawing at him. Look after my ass while I get to sleep in Ray’s bed, like… what did he call me? A princess.
“Then again,” I press on, “if you hadn’t dragged him all the way to fuck knows where, maybe those people would still be alive,” I lean towards him, talking through my teeth. “You see, I also know a thing or two about you, cousin.”
His expression grows grave. There’s a question dancing in his eyes, the shock of not knowing how much I truly know. He was pissy when Ray started talking in front of me, losing it as if I was encroaching on his territory. He wasn’t expecting this. “I’d be really careful whom I say that to, Sasha.”
“If not what, Ro-ro? You’ll put me out of my misery? Let me break it to you, tough guy,” I step away from the banister, but he keeps me in place with one big paw. “Go ahead. You think I’m afraid of you?” I tilt my head, letting the coldness envelop me. It’s that fucked up clarity again. The one I’ve felt with Bogo. “I got nothing to lose.”
He comes even closer, breathing down my face. “Stop screwing with his head or I’ll make you regret it,” he says gravelly. His dark green eyes are menacing, intent on scaring me, but I couldn’t care less about his threats. We face one another for a couple of seconds, both of us refusing to back down before he struts down the stairs.
I’m screwing with his head, eh? I don’t know who’s screwing whom, but one thing I know for sure is that I’m fuckin’ tired of being played with. I lick my lower lip, fixing the wall in front of me, my hands curled on the banister behind me. The threat of violence doesn’t scare me. It was far more terrifying watching Ray shift from his usual self to whatever the fuck persona he employed while talking to Anatoly. Now, that’s… that’s far scarier than anything Roman could do. He’s not one for dissimulation. It’s too much of a complicated feat for him. His tiny monkey brain can’t take him that far. He’s all muscles and zero wits, and while physical strength has its appeal, being able to kneel a man with just words is another sort of beast entirely.
“Does he know, Roman?” I wet my lips, narrowing my eyes. He doesn’t stop. Yet. “That you’re in love with him?”
He turns back, all snappy, his hand tight on the end of the banister as he looks back up at me. I hit a sore spot. I grin in satisfaction.
“Ah, there it is, glaring like heartbreak. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
His upper lip twitches, his eyebrows drawing close to one another. His chest rises up and down quickly, his breaths puffing like a bull’s.
“It bothers you, doesn’t it? That I’m in his bed, fucking him… talking to him,” I taunt. God damn it, I really like to play with fire. “You know we fucked on every couch from downstairs where you’re staying?” I touch my lip with the tip of my tongue. “He even fucked me over the table in his office.” I point with my thumb over my shoulder, my grin growing wider.
“He’s been telling me shit, about you… and Danya. You see, I know he was a dickhead who kept provoking him.” His expression is turning darker and darker with each second. I can even see a vein throbbing on his forehead, his hold tightening on the banister. He’s probably hyperventilating now. “I also know that you must’ve been pinning on Ray for a while, perhaps that’s why you couldn’t stand your own brother. Were you listening behind doors while he fucked Danya, wishing it was your ass instead?” And maybe I should just leave it like that, while I still got time to retreat. But no. It’s no fun taunting the devil if you don’t plan to go all the way with it. “Ah, you should see yourself, you’re a real work of art right now.”
The words barely leave my mouth that he is already rushing up the steps. He pins me to the wall across the stairs, hand in my throat. “What the fuck do you know?” he spits, squeezing. “You know shit. You think you know him? You don’t! I’ve been there when he needed me. I kept him alive for so long. I know him inside out, and whatever five-minute fling you’ve had with him, it’s nothing compared to it.”
“Fuck…in… let go.”
“You’re nothing but a shitstain, exactly like Danya, maybe worse.”
“Fuck off!”
“Whatever he sees in you, it’s just guilt. And aren’t you playing the victim just fine? You got him wrapped around your little finger,” he clenches his fist close to my face.
“You can suck… my balls,” I sputter, trying to peel off his fingers. “Fuckin’ monkey.”
His grip tightens. I can’t draw in air. I hit his wrist and start flailing. The fucker’s going to crush my windpipe. Oh, shit. Might’ve overdone it this time. I kick his shin, but he merely shuffles back, still holding me against the wall.
“He’s not gonna… he won’t… love you back,” I kick again, missing the mark. I think it’s growing more and more obvious that if Ray ever loved someone, that was Danya.
He grins, his neat, white teeth pressed together, making him look as looney as he is. “Aren’t you Vitya’s golden boy, his spitting image! Make sure you make him fuckin’ proud when he comes to see you. Tell me, Sasha! Did Ray tell you about that too, or did he omit it?” His face is too close to mine for my liking, his eyes bulging out of their sockets like he’s a basketcase. “Did he tell you good old Vitya fucked your mommy? He told you that?” He shoves me back into the wall, then stares down at me. His grip lessens just a bit. I stop squirming, staring back up at him.
“What?” I croak.
“Oh, you don’t know now? You don’t know the first thing Ray did when he took you to that hospital was to ask for a DNA test?” His grin widens, my horror accompanying it. The fucker is trying to rile me up. “Welcome to the family, Shurochka,” he mocks. “Do you need me to spell it out for you, little brother?”
He lets go of me, disgust on his face. I cover my throat with my hands, taking big gulps of air, my eyes prickling with tears, my knees close to buckling. I cough hard enough I almost spit my lungs out. I search for his gaze. “You’re… lying!”
“You’re very thick in here, aren’t you?” he taps his temple. “Why do you think you and Danya look like two peas in a pond?” he bends lower, his face close to mine. He smacks my jaw. “Did he tell you we’re cousins or did he let you draw that conclusion all by yourself?”
I’m shaking. Hard. I’m shaking so hard I want to sink my fingers into his eyesockets until they burst. On a second thought, he’s right. Ray never said anything about it, he didn’t contradict me or correct me, he was just listening to my sputtering while saying fuckin’ nothing. But that doesn’t mean Roman’s—
“That should teach you to keep your fucking mouth shut,” he says, his accent heavy. He straightens up and steps away. The thoughts rush in my head but all I hear and see is Danya all over again and something clicks somewhere, a flip is switched. I am really trying to keep this mouth shut, but I’ve never been good with that. I am breathing hard, but strangely, I don’t feel fear. There’s nothing there but venom and a vindictive desire to inflict more pain.
“I met your little blonde obsession,” I spit the words and that makes him halt at an arm’s distance away from me.
“What did you say?”
“I met Evsey Azarov. Are you so stupid that you need me to draw it for you?” I shout in Russian. He stares down at me, he suddenly seems to have shrunk, his height means nothing anymore. “I was there with Ray through it all. I met Anatoly, I met Evsey. I know what you did to his family.” I cough. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I know what you did to Paul’s family. I also know Ray didn’t want me to tell you about it because you’re an IMPULSIVE FUCK.” I shout the last words, the rage taking control of me. He steps towards me and I meet his eyes without a twitch. “Hey, his words, not mine.” I shrug and smile crookedly. He tilts his head like a puppy who’s got a hard time understanding what it is that people want from him.
“You want me to describe him, Roman? He’s a skinny little thing, well-spoken, with a soft voice and by the looks of it, he’s never hurt a fly in his entire life. You were the first thing he asked me about, even though, god help us all, I don’t even know what he sees in you.”
