Page 49 of Tracking Shadows
His eyes widen for a split second before he tosses the gun away, his grin returning. “Doesn’t matter,” he sneers. “I don’t need a gun to deal with you. I can still beat you with my bare hands because you’re just a little bitch.”
I don’t flinch. His words roll off me like water. I’ve heard worse.
“Don’t you have any remorse?” I ask, my voice steady even though my blood is boiling.
He raises an eyebrow, almost amused. “Remorse? For what?”
I step closer, my hands shaking with anger. “You killed my parents, Sergei. You took everything from me and hundreds of other people.”
Sergei’s grin grows wider, his eyes narrow as he studies me. “I’ve killed a lot of people, sweetheart. You’ll have to be more specific. I’m sorry I don’t remember every little detail.”
The rage inside me builds to a boiling point, and I shout, “Fuck you!”
He chuckles. “I would have taken you up on that offer, but you’re a little too skinny for my taste.”
Disgust rolls through me, and I take another step forward, raising my gun. “My father, Adrian.”
His expression remains blank for a moment. “Adrian?” he says, tilting his head as if he’s genuinely trying to remember. “Sorry, love. You’re going to have to give me more than that. I don’t remember anyone by that name.” He gestures dismissively with his hand. “I’ve got places to be, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving now.”
I grit my teeth.
My heart pounds in my chest.
He doesn’t even remember.
After everything, he doesn’t even remember. The pain, the years of suffering, the loss, the grief. And to him, it’s nothing.
But then I see it. His face shifts, just for a moment. A flicker of recognition.
“The military officer,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, now I remember.Adrian. It’s been so long.” His grin widens, malicious and cruel. “I didn’t know his daughter was all grown up now. How cute.”
My grip tightens on the gun; my finger hovers dangerously close to the trigger. Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to pull it, to end this right here. Why can't I do it?
“So, that was your daddy?” he sneers, stepping closer. “I remember now. He was using military skills to rile me up then. I heard from my men that he didn't even put up a good fight. He wasn’t anything special. Just another dead man in a long line of bodies.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes.
No! I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not now, not ever.
“You killed him,” I say, my voice low and steady, though my hands are trembling. “You took my family from me. You tookeverythingfrom me.”
Sergei shrugs. “I’ve taken a lot of things from a lot of people. I'm sorry, honey, you're not special.” He chuckles.
The world around me narrows, my vision tunneling as I focus solely on him. His voice is like nails on a chalkboard, each word twisting deeper into the wound that’s been festering inside me for years.
“You’re a monster,” I whisper.
He laughs again. “A monster? Sweetheart, I’m just a man who does what needs to be done. If that makes me a monster, then so be it.”
I take another step forward, closing the distance between us. My gun is still raised, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t care.
“Do you think this makes you powerful?” I ask, my voice rising. “Do you think this makes you untouchable?”
Sergei smirks. “I think it makes me alive, which is more than I can say for your father.”
The rooftop air is sharp and cold, but I don’t feel it; his words are enough to freeze me over.
“Where’s my brother?”