Page 21 of Shadows of the Past
He clears his throat, and a bit of that vulnerability disappears.
“I don’t need your pity, Julia. You’re ready now. Let’s go!”
I feel the moment snap, and I’m not sure why this bothers me. Because it wasn’t pity I felt, it was the need to console him somehow, and that’s a bigger problem. Because I’m not here to stay.
The hallway is lined with landscape photographs, some black and white, others in color, and I notice just how many rooms there are.
How many people live in this house?
When we reach the ground floor, I hear voices coming from the left and know that’s where we’re headed. We enter a dining room that’s more suited for the Queen of England and her entire dynasty than for a normal family. Four men turn toward us.
At the head of the table is the old man with a slimy grin on his face. I saw the state of the girl from yesterday when he forced his assistant to drag her out of the room.
The sight of blood covering half of her body was nothing compared to what I’ve witnessed. The only thing that helped me maintain a neutral expression was everything I saw on that ship that brought us here. Dozens of girls, raped, beaten, tortured, some with visible wounds, all designed to send a message: don’t try to escape if you value your pathetic life.
“Maksim, I’m delighted to see you grace us with your presence this morning.”
The old man’s voice resonates, and I have to suppress the shiver running through my entire body. His voice is like a sticky residue on your skin that makes you want to scrub it off.
Maksim ignores him and takes a seat at the table, leaving a chair for me beside him.
“Since when do we dine with all the whores?”
The new voice belongs to a blond man in his thirties, who scrutinizes me with suspicion. I remind myself to keep my head down and follow the advice of the only person who seems to care about my safety.
But there’s malice in this man’s gaze. It’s as if the light intentionally avoids hitting his eyes.
The next second, he lets out a scream, and when I glance at his hand, I see a knife lodged in it. My eyes widen involuntarily as I watch him try to grasp the handle to pull it out, but the tip is stuck in the table.
I turn to Maksim, who calmly chews slices of apple.
What the hell? Did he just throw that knife because of me?
“Maksim,” the older man’s voice rings out, calm but with a hint of irritation.
My roommate remains silent, continuing to eat those damn apple slices as if nothing happened.
“Uncle, he’s losing control. Who knows what he’ll do next? And for what? Because I spoke about his new whore?” The blond man yells, and I involuntarily grimace at the word.
“Her name is Julia.” Maksim’s voice is calculated and cold. “You received a warning yesterday.”
A silence falls over the table, and I want to sink into the ground at how thick the tension is.
“She’s just a piece of meat, Maksim,” the old man states while meticulously cutting vegetables on his plate.
“She’smypiece of meat.”
“I won’t let her sit at the table with us; who knows what diseases she carries?” the man finally says after pulling the knife out of his hand.
Maksim ignores him, but I understand his tactic, although I don’t think he realizes his silence only draws more attention to us.
I don’t want to give this jerk any reason to think I’m diseased, so I start to rise; I don’t need to eat here, and I don’t want to cause any more problems.
I’ve likely already caused enough.
Instantly, a hand wraps around my wrist, and when I turn with a frown, I see Maksim looking at the men at the table, his voice firm.
“Julia will sit at the table next to me every day. If anyone has a problem with that, you know where to find me after breakfast, and we can settle things in a more...permanent way.”
