Page 51 of Shadows of the Past
"Julia!" The shout startles me awake, my hand flying to my throat.
Oh no. Not again.
When I look at Maksim, I see him shirtless, staring at me with confusion. It was just a dream, and I could cry from frustration because these dreams have become so constant that sometimes I wish I'd never wake up.
Because in reality, he'll never be mine. In reality, there's a barrier between us that he keeps firmly in place, no matter how hard I try to cross it. And I'm tired of it.
I'm twenty years old. I have needs, and it's painfully obvious he won't be the one to fulfill them.
"I had a nightmare," I tell him over my shoulder as I head to the bathroom.
"Judging by the sounds you were making, you seemed to be enjoying that nightmare," he retorts, and I have to stop myself from throwing back an acid reply.
I'm frustrated, and it's entirely his fault.How can he sleep half naked next to me in bed for two years and expect it not to stir anything?
Of course he doesn't care. He regularly comes home at night reeking of cheap women's perfume, and my stomach turns just imagining where that scent comes from. I don't know why I don't do something similar.
Over the past year, I've been given more freedoms—I've even gone out with them twice. Ivan and Aleksandr seem to have forgotten my presence, or they've just gotten used to seeing my face around. I'm not sure which.
I could find myself a partner for one night. Just enough to release all this sexual frustration I've built up from spending every day next to a man who looks like a god.
When I exit the bathroom, Maksim is frowning at me.
"Are you okay? You seem tense."
I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. For a split second, I'm tempted to tell him exactly what my problem is, but the impulse passes when I remember six months ago when I mentioned wanting to have sex.
The way he rejected me then, telling me we don't have that kind of relationship, crushed my heart even more than before.
Because I want Maksim like I've never wanted anyone, and seeing him prefer other women while refusing to touch me completely shatters me.
Who would want someone else's leftovers, after all?
It's pathetic thinking this way because I know that's not why he rejects me.
I don't answer him. Instead, I gather my things for training with Akim. Because ever since I mentioned sex, Akim has been the one training me. That's how badly I disgusted Maksim with my suggestion.
I walk out the door without looking at him.
Since the day I shot Aleksandr, I've been able to move relatively freely around the property. No one has bothered me out of fear of Maksim, and at least that gives me some freedom, so I don't feel completely trapped in this house.
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Akim says as soon as he sees me.
"More like the whole mattress," I mutter, and I don't miss his laugh.
For a moment, I look at him. A few rays of sunlight fall on his face, softening his features. His eyes are warmer than my roommate's, and his hair is longer in the back, tied up to keep it from spreading out. I wonder if I could talk to him about my problem.
"Akim, would you have sex with me?"
I wish I had a camera to capture his face right now. Something between curiosity and fear flashes across his features.
"I'm not that easy to win over, Juls," he says with a laugh, but I catch something in his voice, a slight hesitation in his flirtation.
"I'm serious, Akim. I'm an adult with needs, and it's not like I can go on dates like a normal woman."
"Does Maksim know about this?"
Just the mention of his name makes me want to use him as today's target practice.
