Shadows of the Past I (Temporary Bliss #2) Read online

  Shadows of the Past I

  A Temporary Bliss Novel

  Alexander Ward

  A.W. Publishing

  Copyright © 2021 Alexander Ward

  First published as a serialized novel on patreon.com/alexward in 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events and the places mentioned in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Front Cover Image: Creative Commons Stock Photos

  Cover design by Alexander Ward

  Visit https://www.facebook.com/alexanderwardauthor/ for more information about upcoming books in the series.

  For all that’s lost.

  Chapter 1 – Ray

  13th of December 2017

  Raymond caught himself biting his nails. His hands were shaking, his thoughts were dispersed. Another hit wouldn’t get him addicted again, but it was the only thing he could think of. Just a little bit to take the edge off, none would be the wiser. He would stop using right after, it was a promise he had made to himself. Too many people depended on him. He needed to ride this wave which threatened to drown him.

  It had all gone so wrong, and he had been unable to control himself after that first night he had met Alex at the rooftop party. The both of them had been drunk; at first Ray had thought he was dreaming, that they were back in time and Dany was right there. It all fit, the snarky attitude, the sassy talk, his frail body, the straight coal-black hair; the only difference had been in the eyes, where Dany’s had been a dark green, Alex’s were a mix of light brown, speckled with green motes. However, it had been hard to tell in the dark, he had only noticed that later.

  I pushed him too far.

  Now the boy lay in a hospital bed after a suicide attempt. Christ, I’ve pushed him too far. The smell of blood was still thick in his nostrils, petrified under his nails, staining his skin. It had all happened so fast. He had failed to notice when things had escalated. He had just wanted to see the boy one more time. He had sworn to get only what he needed, then draw a line. That had been the initial plan — God only knew how they had ended up in this point.

  Somewhere between the sex, Alex’s striking resemblance to ghosts he would have rather kept buried in the past and his struggles, he’d found himself thinking about the boy more. Raymond had tried to make it clear to himself that he was seeing Alex only because of the information he could get his hands on. After all, what really mattered was keeping everyone safe and away from the piercing eye of the law. In that respect, Aleksandr had proven himself more than useful, but gaining insight into Temnota from him had never been Raymond’s true purpose. That information had only served to confirm some of his suspicions while making him aware of other issues; it had all been a ruse.

  I’ve been testing him. I pushed him too far.

  No matter how hard he had tried looking at the situation objectively, something about that child frazzled his brain; like the anger he had felt at seeing those bruises on his body, or the slight despair when Alex had lost it and Ray had not truly known how to calm him down. It was way too easy to get lost in his warmth and the strange way that skinny body fit into his arms and moulded with his own; to get lost in the resemblance, drown in the memories, and it was that much easier to forget himself and get sucked into the past.

  Those memories were best kept buried. Just one more hit. The darkness had to be kept at bay somehow.

  That silly boy had to step into his life that night. Ray had been drunk enough to let his guard down. Just this once, he’d told himself, yet months later he was hunting him down with a borderline obsessive determination. Just this once. Suddenly, once became twice, became thrice and he’d found himself down that path, unable to restrain himself, intrigued by Alex’s behaviour. Distant and cold in a way that reminded him of the past; insensitive, and more often than not his eyes reflected a shallow expression, as if he wasn’t really there. In a messed up, twisted way, Ray wanted to be able to shake him to the core, because it screamed so much of Dany, he wanted to weep. Too much.

  Ray read into it all the time, and the boy’s outbursts made it even worse. The yelling, the crying, the uncontrollable shaking which turned Raymond upside down because he did not know how to deal with them. In a way, he preferred those moments since, at least, the boy showed some kind of emotion. What came after was so much worse, though. There was no running from it, no way to keep Alex’s eyes from turning distant, as if he relinquished control and someone else got in charge of his body; at the switch of a button, he became a shell. No matter how much he tried to stifle the feeling, Ray was mad at that. Alex’s indifference bothered him; the way he seemed unafraid to die, like he’d already given up. No other words came to mind other than callous and emotionless, as if he was already lost forever. It was wrong. That road was cursed, nothing but misery awaiting at its end. Alex was nearly there already.

  Ray frowned at his fingernails, picking at something which resembled blood. Thinking that had been only one of the many failed attempts to take his life… The sense of dread hung heavier than lead in his stomach. Wanting to protect him only enraged him more.

  The world was crashing down around him, the brittle sense of control slipping away through his fingers. A niggling feeling had been bothering him since the beginning, raking away at his thoughts, infiltrating itself into his life, terrorizing his dreams and waking hours alike. All along he had known there had to be something more to the situation. He had avoided looking into the boy on purpose. The less he knew about him, the better. Attachment was not what he sought; he’d blatantly refused to correlate Dany with Alex in any way, knowing his mind would have started comparing and made a mess of it — which it had anyway.

  Then Roman’s findings had only confirmed his worst fears and amplified his grief beyond reasonable points. Raymond cursed the morning when Alex had opened his mouth and spoke back to them in Russian. He cursed that moment, but he cursed Roman’s insistence more. The fight which had ensued after the boy’s departure had been one of the worst they’d had. Despite the begging, the screams and the full-blown threats Raymond had uttered, Roman had refused to back down. In his infinite stubbornness, he had pulled a full background on Aleksandr, from the first vaccine he’d had as a baby, to the fine given to him for property damage and public disorder just days before his suicide attempt.

  That goddamn file had burned a hole in Raymond’s mind. Then he’d taken matters into his own hands and had forced it even more. His fists tightened of their own accord, his heart beating faster, a sheen of sweat breaking on his skin. It was laughable to think it had been right there under his nose for months. There was no denying it anymore, though his stubborn refusal to acknowledge it was worthy of a prize.

  Balance had been a thin line he’d kept striving for ever since Dany’s death. Years of struggle had finally gifted him something akin to peace, only to watch it all perish in a split second. The universe had stomped on him so badly he didn’t know which way was up anymore. His own personal hell had evolved to galactic proportions since he had taken the boy to the hospital. To think it had been only two days since that happened made him want to chortle like a looney.

  Behind his closed eyes, he still saw Aleksandr bleeding on the floor. Whenever he opened them, he relived the same nightmare from eight years ago. The memories
toyed with him — it was hard keeping up with them anymore. The memories twirled and mixed, taking their toll on him. If he looked harder into the past, he could almost feel the blood draining out of his body.

  “Raymond?” Roman’s voice shook him from his reverie and brought him back to the present.

  Ray’s gaze lingered on the bloodied man tied to the chair in the middle of the room, a bright light hanging above his head, forcing him to squint. Ivan was holding up so far, but Roman’s cruelty could grow to unexpected extents, and he could only pity the man for it. The situation had forced him to give Ivan somewhat of a reprieve, but it could not be delayed any longer. They needed answers.

  Raymond signalled him to go on. Roman worrying for him was the last thing he needed. Under any circumstances, he could not find out about Ray’s shameful relapse. The subject would have to be avoided at all costs, as long as Raymond could manage it. He had no reason to worry yet. He was certain he could keep it under control for now and come off it gradually. It would not be the first time he had to deal with it. On the other hand, the thought of Alex strewn on that hospital bed got his blood boiling. He could not stand still for a second. Just another hit. He needed something to keep himself in check.

  “Where is the hard drive?” Roman asked, voice tinted by anger. Tall and broad shouldered, he loomed above their prisoner’s hunched silhouette. His tense muscles, a result of his intense training, were visible on his back, underneath the black shirt he sported. Ink ran down his arms, reiterating his allegiance and dedication to the organization. Raymond admired his passion, but that fervour was going to get him killed one day. Roman was too subdued to lead, and too quick to obey orders. The difference between him and Dany was striking. Roman’s infatuation with pleasing his leader on one hand. Daniel’s sheer indifference and disdain towards the cause and life in general on the other. But then again, what had indifference gained him?

  Ivan spat blood on Roman’s boots, his eyes rising slowly towards the man standing in front of him as he grinned.

  “Go to hell.”

  The slap was imminent, but still took Raymond by surprise. His eyebrows rose on his forehead when the chair toppled and fell on the side, with Ivan still attached to it. The Russian winced, drawing his body in as much as the chair allowed. His bare toes were curled, his nails biting into his palms. Tears fell from the squeezed eyes, while blood and spit coated his cheek. His temple lay against the grey floor.

  Roman had slapped him so hard that even the light swung above them, casting spinning shadows all over the basement walls. The light shone oddly on the cracks in the plaster, giving the impression of hundreds of eyes blinking at once. The atmosphere was haunting enough without it, the old basement dusty and uncared for, crawling with spiders. The strong smell of mould gave Raymond the impression something wriggled down his throat. He could only imagine the vivid thoughts roaming through Ivan’s mind after spending almost two weeks locked up in that hole.

  He shook the image away and let out a sigh as he tightened his arms on his chest. He had explored every possible option only to reach the conclusion that they were wasting their time. Niceties, threats, bribes, blackmail. All of it. They had tried it all. Except crippling the man, at which Roman was quickly proving himself very successful. However, Ivan wasn’t talking. Aleksandr had warned him Temnota did not have the drive, yet at the very least, he had to make sure. Ivan still possessed valuable information about them. Anything would be useful, even the things Ivan thought to be nothing.

  However, they were getting nowhere. He was contemplating whether he should have the man killed, but he wasn’t inclined to give him an easy way out; not after what the lunatic had done to Alex.

  “I can make this ten times worse, Ivan,” Raymond said, his accent harshening his Russian and sending a chill through the barren chamber. Unmoving from the shadows that hid his face, he watched for the other man’s expression. There was a slight narrowing to his eyes. Perhaps in disbelief, or a reaction to the injuries he had sustained. Or perhaps wanting to discern the unseen silhouette who had been watching the interrogation without interfering so far.

  Roman turned to face him, running a hand through his short hair, a shade of dark brown, something he inherited from his mother. He was reaching the end of his patience. Now they were just wasting time. Roman weighed him with a look, seeking approval. Raymond’s breath faltered for a second at the sight of those pure green eyes and his sharp features which were so reminiscent of Dany. Like the flashes of green in Alex’s eyes.

  The light was playing tricks on him. Ray forced his attention to the matter at hand. Ivan’s face was ashen in the sallow light cast by the swinging lightbulb. The pale glow dulled the colours around them and the blood on Ivan’s face.

  “You either talk of your own volition, or I can make you a deal,” Raymond forced himself to continue. He kept his eyes trained on the man lying on the cement floor. At the lack of a reaction, he paced away from the wall through the moving shadows around the room, arms still crossed on his chest.

  “This is how it will go,” he said, focusing on his steps. “You will cooperate with us and tell me where Temnota is keeping the hard drive,” he made a pause as he pried a cigarette from the front pocket of his jeans and placed it between his lips nonchalantly. “If not, my friend,” he carried on, playing with the lighter between his fingers, “I’ll turn you into a traitor and deliver you back into Temnota’s hands so they can properly deal with you. Your death will not be short and painless, of that I can assure you.”

  There was no point to threaten Ivan with harming his loved ones. Raymond guessed those people would be few, if they existed at all. In lives like the ones they led, keeping people close was a liability which one could not afford to have. That weight hung above Raymond’s shoulders more than anyone else’s, since he knew what was at stake and how much he could lose should he take a step in the wrong direction.

  Aleksandr had provided him with information about the girl Ivan had shown up with. Unfortunately, by the time Roman had been able to certify its authenticity and trace down the location, she had vanished alongside everyone else. Needless to say, Roman had not been pleased with those developments, since it meant all traces of Evsey were gone once more.

  Thus, Raymond had no real leverage other than bluffs and bravados, just blind shots in the dark. He was not even sure what Dominika represented to Ivan since he had been unable to dig more into the matter. Their research, little as it was, had not provided them with any pertinent answers, so he had reached the conclusion she was just another prostitute using a fake name. Ivan hadn’t been too bothered by the threats made her way before, so he was aware Ray had nothing to use against him. Which in turn meant he understood that the only reason why he was still alive was his status and knowledge about Temnota. Drive or not, Raymond would still find a use for him.

  “Could you imagine the humiliation? They’d make a real example out of you,” Ray said.

  There was no bigger danger for a man like Ivan than having his people turn against him like a pack of hyenas. The impact over the man’s psyche would bear its fruits. He just had to let it seep in for a while for it to take full effect. Ivan saw it too, since he tried to follow the unseen voice, pensive, pondering the implications of it.

  “Why don’t you show your face?” Ivan retorted, pushing against the ropes. Raymond did not envy the uncomfortable position he was in. Bound by ropes, his arms twisted behind the chair, sprawled on the cold basement floor. Ray could offer him an upgrade from the mouldy secluded chamber if he so wished, yet he doubted niceties would sweeten the deal in the long term. The outcome would be unchanged.

  “Are you sure you really want to test my patience?” Raymond drawled and pointed to Roman to step forward. The man nodded in assent and placed the base of his boot on Ivan’s face, pressing his jaw into the grubby floor.

  Ivan grunted as the pressure from Roman’s boot increased. Raymond signalled him with his cigarette and crossed his ar
ms again, smoke billowing from his lips.

  “I saw you that night, mister Ward. I know who you are,” Ivan spat.

  Roman looked up at him, as if seeking permission to smash the man’s skull. It was unavoidable. People were bound to recognise him, given his status as a public person. It was what happened with them after they did that mattered.

  “You see, I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Ivan strained. “I knew I’ve seen you before. How could one not remember you? Though it’s shocking you’re involved with the Bratva. I thought you did that on purpose – showing your face, I mean. You don’t plan to let me walk out of here alive, so there’s no point in anything you do.”

  Silence filled the room until Ivan squirmed on the floor, yet Raymond stared bored at the man’s back, smoking silently. He had to admit, the Russian was holding on better than most, despite crying out loud when the pain was too much. He retained his character and the strength to curse at them and make judgments, an admirable feat in of itself. But Raymond was in no mood for mind games tonight. He stepped forward, holding his cigarette in a loose grip. He crouched in front of the man, studying his face under Roman’s boot as one studied an insect which he was about to crush.

  “You’re right, Ivan. You’re not getting out of here alive. Not if I have something to say about it,” he said, putting off the cigarette so close to Ivan’s face his entire body jerked at the gesture. “Now tell me again why Anatoly Azarov is funding you.”

  “Do you simply like hearing the sound of my voice, Ward?” he gritted.

  Roman pressed harder. Just a bit more and Ivan’s jaw would crack under pressure, squished like the slimy worm he was. He would most definitely need some work on his teeth after they would be done with him. Just so that he could preserve that beautiful smile for the vigil, of course.