Page 44 of Shadows of the Past
I want to tell her there’s no escape for either of us, not anytime soon, but something about her eyes stops me short. Instead, I ask softly, “Dulci?”
Her lips twitch into something close to a smile despite her pain. “I used to eat all the caramel candies from our kitchen when Mama wasn’t looking,” she says faintly, almost laughing at the memory.
The footsteps grow louder outside the door, and I know it’s too late to hide or come up with an excuse now.
The first person through the door is Maksim, and when our eyes meet, all I see on his face is pure terror.
For once, there’s nothing he can do for me. Not this time.
A man I recognize from my first day here, likely Ivan’s right-hand, storms into the room. It takes him all of five seconds to piece everything together.
“You!” His voice booms like thunder as he strides toward me and yanks me by the hair.
Maksim steps forward, but I plead with him silently, begging him not to intervene. He has a mission, a purpose. I don’t matter right now.
“We’ll see what Ivan has to say when he finds out his nephew was killed by your new little plaything,” the man spits at Maksim, his tone sharp and accusatory.
“First of all, he’s not dead,” Maksim replies coolly, his voice steady and cutting. “If you’d bothered to check, you’d already be calling a medic to patch him up. Second, since she’s mine, I’ll decide her punishment.”
A shiver runs down my spine at Maksim’s words, the weight of them sinking in.
Chaos erupts in the room. Akim joins us, pulling Maksim aside for a hushed conversation in the corner. Meanwhile, Ivan’s lieutenant summons more soldiers to take the girl away. As she’s escorted out of the room, her eyes meet mine briefly—filled with gratitude and sadness—and I see her lips tremble in an attempt at a smile.
Aleksandr is moved to another room for medical supervision. Subconsciously, I knew where to shoot him so he wouldn’t die. I guess I knew the trouble it would cause Maksim if Aleksandr died by my hand.
It’s ironic how this time I hit my mark perfectly, but during training, I can’t seem to land a single shot.
“Ivan has agreed to let you carry out the punishment,” the lieutenant announces, and I see Maksim’s jaw tighten as his teeth clench.
“Ten lashes,” Maksim says coldly.
The four words freeze my blood in my veins. I lower my head and accept my fate. It’s fine. I won’t die. I’ll endure this.
Akim takes my hand and leads me out of the room and toward the basement, where several soldiers are already gathered.
In one corner, I spot children tied to a metal pipe with rope and Zoya standing nearby with a worried expression on her face. I try to throw her an encouraging smile, but it feels hollow and forced, so I drop my gaze again.
There’s no better moment than now to face what’s coming.
“You’ve made a big mistake,” Akim whispers before letting go of me and tying my hands around a wooden post.
I’m positioned facing the post, its rough surface pressing against me as splinters dig into my skin. But that doesn’t matter now. At least this way, I don’t have to see Maksim’s face. I’ve failed him today. Letting emotions cloud my judgment on a day like this was reckless; I lost control when it mattered most.
I could’ve killed Aleksandr, and then there would’ve been only one acceptable punishment: death. Something tells me Maksim wouldn’t have been able to bear that sentence and he would’ve fought anyone who tried to carry it out.
With that thought in mind, I close my eyes and brace myself for what’s coming, for putting at risk the man who is slowly carving out a space in my heart.
For a brief moment, I catch the scent of cedarwood and rosemary behind me, and tears spill down my cheeks uncontrollably. His warmth envelops me from behind like an unspoken comfort, a fleeting reprieve from what lies ahead.
“Why?” His voice is low but full of questions.
Why did I risk myself? Why did I endanger him with my actions? Why couldn’t I just walk away when that girl was being violated and mutilated?
“Because it felt right,” I whisper back, hoping he understands.
I don’t have his strength, this ability to block out all the darkness in this house or move forward despite the horrors lurking around every corner. Unlike him, I can’t ignore the abuse inflicted on defenseless victims who have no weapons or means to protect themselves.
I’m not strong like him.
