Shadows of the past i te.., p.43
Shadows of the Past I (Temporary Bliss #2), page 43
“There’s a lot we need to talk about, da?”
“What happened to you, boy, did the cat eat your tongue?” The grating rasped Russian makes us look towards the bed. My mom darts that way and helps my father — Aleksey — sit up on the pillow. The pasty skin is hanging low on his neck, like a turkey’s. He even sounds like one. “You won’t even say ‘hello’ to me?”
The feeling I get is one of disgust and that’s visible all over my face. I catch Vitya’s gaze, who’s staring at me in an uncomfortable manner. He pats me on the shoulder with a reassuring smile, then turns towards his brother.
“Why would he, Alyosha? If I were him, I’d give you a kicking.”
Aleksey lets out a chuckle which turns into a coughing fit. He swats mom’s hand away when she tries to support him. “It’s clear he’s yours, he’s looking at me as if he’d rather strangle me.”
Vitya gives a one shouldered shrug then sits down on the opposite bed, his elbows on his thighs.
“Say boy, are you still a faggot?” Aleksey carries on, his rotting mouth oblivious to the murderous thoughts in me.
I take a step towards the bed, only so that I can see him closer, passing my eyes over his vanishing figure. I wet my lips and finally meet his eyes. “How’s that cancer treating you?” I ask in Russian, seeing as all the family is gathered in one place.
The look in his eyes resembles death for a second, then he laughs, but no one joins him. “You hate me that much, boy?”
“Hate?” I say slowly. “You wouldn’t know the word even if I explained it to you.”
My mom takes a seat on the bed closer to him. They all stare at me before Aleksey points one bony finger my way. “You always ran your mouth too much. Perhaps I should’ve smacked you harder that day.”
I grab the metallic end of the bed next to me staying at a distance from where I can take them all in. “You should try it now. I’ll put you out of your misery faster.”
Aleksey chuckles again and Victor grins as if he’s proud. “See, Vitya? This is the pest I took care of and this is how he repays me.”
“You can go fuck yourself for all I care.”
“Aleksandr!”
“Let him, Anushka, it doesn’t matter anymore,” he says as another fit overcomes him, his shaky hand patting the blanket next to his thigh. “Come at the funeral, boy. You come or I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. Put me in the ground with your mother.” He lets his head fall back on the pillows, his gaze turning distant. In spite of myself, a shiver runs through my body, my skin prickles at the thought.
“Leave the death talk for another day, brother. You’re still here,” Vitya says as his eyes search something around the floor. His fingers are entwined in front of him, his lips pursed, mirroring my mom’s stance.
“Not long now,” Aleksey replies, his eyes turning on me. “Are you turning into him?” he points with his chin at Vitya.
I turn the question on all sides, to understand more or less what he means. He couldn’t possibly know what I’ve done, so it’s just talk to fill the silence. “What do you care?”
“I’ve made my peace with God, boy.”
“And what, you need forgiveness now?”
He sighs, smacking his lips. Vitya gets up before he can reply and pats me on the shoulder. “Come, I’ll get you a coffee. Let him rest. I’ll be back later,” he says. “Give me a call if you need me, Anya.”
I follow him out of the room. I throw a look over my shoulder at the menacing blonde who comes after us. He catches me ogling but he seems to be more preoccupied with our surroundings now.
We walk in silence and end up in a coffee shop not far from the hospital. Victor stops to order, then takes a seat at a secluded table. The blonde guy finds himself a good spot closer to the entrance where he sits down, resuming his watch. That’s his puppy. The one licking his arse nonstop. Got it.
I turn to Vitya only to find him staring at me. I’m getting so fuckin’ tired of this at this point, but now that we’re face to face, I’m drawing a blank. I don’t quite know what to say. Or how. I don’t know where to start. It’s not like we got something in common.
“You look just like your brother.”
It was silent and uncomfortable earlier but thank fuck he chose the best subject to start this conversation with me on good terms. I roll my eyes involuntarily and stare out the window at the gloomy morning. People are rushing to their jobs through the muddied snow, cars are honking with their usual impatience, blocked in the traffic on the narrow streets. I wonder what goes through that driver’s mind, waiting at the intersection for the green light. Is his life as exciting as mine is? What could he possibly dread in his meaningless existence?
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” I mumble.
He frowns, then a knowing smile lifts his lips. It doesn’t seem to bother him. “Rimma told me you had no clue about Danya.”
“Well, unfortunately, now I do.” I shoot daggers at him but it doesn’t put him off. He shrugs his jacket off and leaves it on the back of the chair, then rubs his hands together.
“You’re just like him.”
“Fucking hell, people, you really want to piss me off.”
A waitress brings us coffees and Victor smiles and denies her offer for food. I can’t help but stare at him, wondering if he’s using botox implants to keep his face ageless. I grab the cup in front of me, letting it distract me for a moment. He must be training daily, he’s in better shape than I could ever be.
“You were in the hospital?”
“What the fuck do you care?” I snap, drawing some attention to us. “You haven’t seen me in fifteen fucking years, now all of a sudden you want to come play daddy with me? No, thanks.”
He adds sugar to his coffee, then takes a small sip, licking his lips after. He shrugs off my outburst as if it hasn’t happened. “I had to leave, Sasha. It wasn’t safe,” he says in English.
“And now it is?”
“Now people know who you are,” he says slowly, placing his fingers over the white table covering. “You’re in danger.”
“Of course, I’m in danger,” I mumble, growing more annoyed by the minute. “So, what exactly do you want?”
“To talk, to know you.”
“Sure. To know me,” I chuckle miserably.
“Are you ill?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leans over the table, staring right at me. “I thought Roman spoke to you.”
“Sure he did. We talked about stars and unicorns. He’s such a pleasant fucking individual, isn’t he? He almost broke my fucking neck last night. God forbid anyone looks at him the wrong way.”
His gaze darkens, growing more attentive. “It usually takes a lot to unnerve him,” he says, playing with the saucer. “But if you ran your mouth at him like this, then I completely understand.”
I blink at him like I’m stupid and don’t understand what he says. “Wow.”
“Danya always pushed his buttons, so I can only imagine you do too.”
“Great. Just fucking great.” I run a hand through my hair. Despite the wish to wake up, my ass is still planted on this fucking chair.
“Listen, son.”
“Don’t ‘listen, son’ me,” I growl at him, crossing my arms on my chest.
He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s tired, but then he smiles. “You’re really a Petrov, and I’m glad to see you stand your ground. I’ve heard what you’ve been through and I guarantee you there will be hell to pay when I put my hands on that man. Anya told me Aleksey kicked you out only several weeks ago. I haven’t talked to your mother in years. I promised I’d keep away from the both of you to keep you safe, but I see it’s been exactly the contrary.”
“My heart just bleeds for you right now.”
He shakes his head. “Rimma’s going to smack you if you carry on like this.”
“He can kiss my fuckin’ ass.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he takes another sip. “Do you have a place to stay now? You could come to the villa with me.”
“I’m staying at Ray’s,” I say firmly, staring him right in the eyes.
“Then I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing more than what it is.”
“You got a problem with him?”
He shrugs, paying more attention to the café around us than me. He gives a start, then he stops as he watches me with such intensity that I almost start to melt under his gaze. “He shot my son in the head, of course I got a problem with him,” his voice all but soft now, having turned into more of a raking.
I feel the blood draining from my face. “What?”
He frowns, his mouth downturned, a general expression of disgust on his face. It’s as if he’s convincing himself to talk. “Rimma didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what!?” I snap.
He shakes his head, weighing the coffee mug with his gaze, his fingers drumming on the table. “Of course, he didn’t. Let’s not discuss about this right now. I’m not yet at peace with the thought that Alyosha is going to follow them into the ground. You do what you think is best, but keep in mind that if you ever need anything, you can always ask.” His shoulders fall with a sigh as he retrieves the coffee cup. He shakes his head, then plasters a forced smile on his face as he changes the subject. “You’ll be twenty soon, da?”
My mouth’s surely hanging open and I must look like an idiot. I feel an insane urge to shout at him and tell him he can’t drop such a line on me then leave me like this, but I must give myself credit for my restraint. I can tell there’s something about him screaming bloody murder from a mile away, whether it’s directed at Ray or the world in general, I can’t tell. But what the fuck, man?
My eyes dart up at him, it’s difficult to hold his gaze. It can’t be true. It doesn’t make a lick of sense. Ray wouldn’t hurt anyone, not… not me. He provoked me. Oh my god. The smell wafting from the coffee in front of me triggers my gag reflex. I plaster my hand over my mouth, my insides turning to slop. The echo of Ray’s fist punching the wall close to my head still resonates in my eardrums. Jesus fuckin’…
“Are you well, Sasha?” He leans over the table, one hand suspended mid-air, as if he’s afraid to touch me. I swallow with great difficulty before I nod.
“No,” I say through my teeth. “I’m fuckin’ not. It doesn’t make sense what you’re telling me. Why didn’t you have him…” I stop, looking around at the waitresses and the other patrons sipping on their coffees and indulging in their breakfasts. I’m being too loud. I lower my voice, pressing my hands against the edge of the table. “Why didn’t you kill him, then? Wouldn’t you obliterate him if he murdered your son in cold blood?” That’s what I would do if I was him.
He takes a deep breath, mimicking my earlier position, his arms crossed over his chest. Several creases appear on his forehead. “Do you want me to tell you the truth, Sasha?”
“That would be fucking great,” I screech.
“If it wasn’t for Nolan, I would’ve made sure he died in his first week in prison. But that man was like a second father to me, and I couldn’t do this to him.”
“Who the fuck’s Nolan?”
He frowns, then his shoulders slump. “Son, I can’t believe you’re this clueless.”
I clench my fist, half-pointing at him. “Listen, mate—”
“Don’t take that tone with me, kid,” he says in a weary voice. “I haven’t seen you in fifteen years, but I can still smack you over the head. I’m not here to fight you. Your father is dying across the street. It doesn’t matter if he made you or not, he still raised you,” he says, annoyed now. “I’m tired, Sasha, so me talking about your brother right now is not a good idea.”
He reaches for his cup and takes another sip, suddenly looking more like his age, which I’m not entirely sure what it is. He’s older than Aleksey by a couple of years, so he’s close to his mid-fifties most likely. He seems genuinely torn about his brother, and even more irritated about Danya.
“That kid used to drive me nuts when he was your age,” he says as an afterthought, the fight seeping away from him. He scoffs softly, staring down at the liquid in his cup. “You’ll be twenty this year, right?”
“Yeah.”
He nods, becoming distant. “Very well. Very well. Do you have a plan for your life? Are you going to university?”
“I don’t know.”
I was kind of planning to be dead by now, but someone ruined those plans for me.
“Tell me about this man, Stefan. I heard about what happened two days ago.”
I open my mouth to retort something back, but wisely keep myself in check. “Da, it was… was bad.” I say slowly, my gaze darting to the dude standing watch at the other table.
“At least I’m glad Raymond was with you.”
“Yeah, me too.” Our gazes meet and challenge one another. I’m not stupid to contradict him, not after what Ray said. At a glance, I wouldn’t believe for one second that the man in front of me is tied to Roza or Temnota. I wonder if he knows more than he lets on, or if he’s just trying to play with my head. I wouldn’t put it past him, nor past anyone actually. Even Ray’s been using me, and despite knowing him only for a handful of months, I’d like to believe I’m closer to him than I’ve ever been to the man sitting in front of me.
“Have they found the men yet?” he presses.
“I don’t know.”
“It was a white sedan?”
I nod, remembering the car which forced us out of the highway. It was also a white van, but I’m not about to give him ammunition.
“And how did you escape?”
I lick my lips, pondering how to answer that question. I got no clue what he knows, or who told him, or if he has any idea Ray might know about his schemes, if those are true indeed. The fucker could be simply playing me, to see who I’m siding with. I pick three sachets of sugar, tear the wrapper on end and drop the contents into my coffee. I lick the spoon after I stir.
“Ray put the fear of god in them.”
His eyes narrow, smiling. “I won’t deny he knows what he’s doing.”
“Right.”
“Be careful with him, Sasha. Don’t make the same mistakes as your brother.”
It would be helpful to know what the fuck it was that my brother did, but it’s hard to ask that. It’s a good way to change the subject though. “Could I ask how he was?”
“Stubborn. Like me,” he smiles, a hint of pride in his voice. His gaze turns inwards, as if reminiscing. “I think you would’ve been at each other’s throats. Or maybe you would’ve understood one another. God knows that boy needed someone to understand him.”
I gulp. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“He was ill, always got himself into more trouble than he could manage.”
“Ill how?”
“Something wrong in here,” he taps the side of his temple. “He’d taken after his mother, that’s why I asked you the same.” He points at my wrist. I shuffle on my chair pulling my sleeve over my hand.
“Something wrong how?”
He shrugs, a sad smile on his lips. “Not all there. You never knew with Danya, especially when he was with your…” He raises a hand, then lets it drop back on the table. “With Raymond,” he says with a grimace, as if his name alone tastes sour.
“So, you didn’t like they fucked?”
His gaze falls on me, eyes turning to slits as he leans forward. He supports his elbows on the table and scoffs slightly. “Why are you looking to provoke me, Sasha?”
“Am I?”
“You know you are, you’re smart enough. You wouldn’t be a Petrov if you weren’t.” He smiles again, good humouredly this time. “But let’s not do this today, son. Let me tell you what,” he pulls out his wallet and places two notes underneath his cup, more than enough to cover the coffees and a generous tip. “I need to get back to Alyosha,” his lips purse. “I’ve many regrets in this life and I’ve made a lot of mistakes which I need to fix. He doesn’t have much time left. You can come with me if you want, provided you won’t rile him up,” he looks at me expectant, but his hands are placed on the table, ready to push himself up. “I understand you’re upset, Sasha. It’s my fault and mine alone this happened to you, so don’t take it on him. We grew up in different times. God knows how long it has taken me to come to terms with the fact my son likes dick. I won’t make the same mistake with you.”
I snort as I consider his words, then shake my head at the thought of going back up to see the man who raised me. I can’t stand being there with him right now. Vitya’s right. I would only make his life even more miserable, because I could’ve been at home safe instead of…
“It’s not you who kicked me out. He did. I can’t… I can’t forgive him.”
“You do what you think is best, son, but make sure you don’t regret him after it’s too late,” he says in a warm, understanding voice, his green eyes wet and tired. He pushes himself up and clears his throat. “I’ll have Vlad take you back to Raymond’s, then. You’ve met him earlier, right?”
He waits for me to get up and steers my shoulder towards the exit. The tall Russian rises to meet us. Vitya pats his arm in the same manner he’s done with me, as if he’s family. “Take him home, Vova.”
“What about you?” the Russian asks gruffly.
“I can take care of myself, boys.”
We leave the coffee shop and Vlad directs me to a car. I get into the passenger seat while Vitya and Vlad share a quick conversation outside. No matter how hard I strain to hear what they’re saying, they’re too far and speak too softly for anything to be discernible. My stomach growls. I rub at my eyes. I can’t make sense of the past hours no matter how hard I try. I stare in the rear-view mirror at the older man, the man who’s my… father. My real father. He’s got a no-bullshit attitude about him, he’s even good-humoured if I think about it. I don’t know what to make of him. I could tell he’s mad at Raymond, that much was clear, which makes it all worse. If he denied him and Ray had any issues with one another—
