Page 53 of Shadows of the Past
"You're not going out."
That's all he says, and I feel my irritation growing because it sounds more like an order than a suggestion.
"And why not?"
"Because you deserve better thanhim."
"Better likeyou?" I know he sees the anger in my eyes.
"No. But at least I would worship the ground you walk on, Julia. Don't settle for someone who wouldn't do that."
I want to hate him. To feel something negative when I look at him, but my damn heart won't listen. Because all I feel now is that I'm hopelessly in love with this man who prefers the hell in here to the happiness out there. Because that's why he doesn't want to feel. He doesn't want to ruin the image Ivan has of him. He doesn't want to leave all these children behind.
"I'm going out, Maksim. Because I'm going crazy in this house. Because I need, at least for a few hours, to forget that I don't have a choice. Because I need to feel, at least for a few hours, like the old Julia. I miss myself."
I could swear that, for a second, I see pain in his eyes, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared.That's how all his emotions are, Julia. Fleeting. Momentary.
I barely step out of the room when Aleksandr's voice rings in my ears.
"Quite a lot of freedom for a whore, don't you think,Juls?" That pet name coming from his mouth makes me nauseous, but I ignore it.
Don't provoke him, Julia.
Aleksandr continues to talk as I head for the exit.
"How tight must you be or talented at being on your knees for him not to get tired of you in these two years? Or maybe it's not about that, but something else. I know he's planning something, and when I find out what, I'll make sure he suffers, along with all of you who stand by him."
He'll never find out, with all the missing neurons he has, but the mere fact that people are starting to question why I'm still here is a problem.
How long can Maksim postpone the moment when he'll hand me over to them? How long until he's put in the position to hurt me again?
With these questions, I leave the house and see Akim leaning against an SUV. He's dressed casually in black jeans and a white shirt, and for the first time, I admire him. Because he's an attractive man, and for a few hours, I'm going to go into town with him and forget all my problems.
I can't believe what I'm thinking, but hey, manifestation is key, right?
"Wow, Juls. You look gorgeous."
I see the appreciation in his eyes, and something in my chest warms. Maybe I'm not so flawed that I can't stir something in a man.
Who would want a woman who fires a machine gun but couldn't defend herself when needed?
It wasn't your fault, Julia.
I know, but I still can't shake the feeling that I wasn't good enough. Agile enough. Smart enough.
The drive to town passes with discussions ranging from my sisters, to the latest information about routes that will be used for a new convoy of children, and even to how much sugar Zoya spilled in her last sponge cake.
In recent months, over two hundred souls have been brought in through Ivan's trafficking network. And two more children were found lifeless at the forest's edge. But something had changed from the previous times. The victims had scratches and we were able to extract a partial fingerprint, but it led nowhere. The person doesn't exist in any database even though Max managed to get fingerprints from almost all the soldiers.
I still feel like the answer is right under our noses. These children leave the basement willingly. Someone unties them. Someone lures them outside. The last little girl was found by a tourist walking her dog through the forest. I waited to see news about that child, but nothing appeared.
Ivan has almost the entire Moscow police force in his pocket, and where he doesn't have influence, he has someone available to solve his problems.
Even Ilya, the pakhan of Moscow, has his hands tied. And the problem isn't Ivan. The old man has been increasingly ill. There are days when he doesn't even come down for meals.
The problem is the system he created and the people he placed in key positions. Child transports have doubled in the last year, and that's where our crisis comes in. How the hell does he maintain so much control when he's mostly bedridden?
For each convoy, there's a preliminary auction where a group of degenerate people receive photos and general information about each child, along with the minimum bidding amount. Everything happens in secret, and even though Maksim has participated in such auctions, their digital footprint is almost nonexistent. The details are revealed exactly four hours beforehand. Entry is by invitation only and requires a fee paid in advance.
