Past Transgressions: A Russian Roulette Love Story
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Past Transgressions
A Russian Roulette Love Story
Janae Keyes
Edited by
Marketta Sowers
Past Transgressions: A Russian Roulette Love Story
Copyright © 2017, Janae Keyes
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. References to real people, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely fictional and not meant to be considered real.
Cover Design by.
Juliana Cabrera - Jersey Girl & Co.
To Ms. Responsible,
It’s okay to let your hair down.
Happiness awaits.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
15 Months Later
Future Aggressions
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
Rae
When my roommate made me an offer to check an item off my bucket list, I jumped at the chance. A three-week trip to Russia? How could I say no?
I guess one could call it a stroke of luck, getting roomed up with a Russian exchange student my freshman year of college. Katya and I bonded from day one, and there was no going back. We’d been through the trials and tribulations of undergrad life together, and once we graduated, we got a real place together as we began the long trek through grad school.
I’d never had a friend like Katya, and she seemed actually to get me, and though we had a language barrier in the beginning, at this point we were completely inseparable.
I grinned down at my passport. I only had a couple of stamps in it so far. I’d been out of the country once, Katya had convinced me to drive my beat-up Toyota into Canada once. Now, I was finally leaving the continent, and I had my brand-new visa from the Russian consulate to prove it.
“Bitch, come now. The cab is here!” Katya yelled from downstairs. I rolled my eyes. Katya had blended into American life over the past five years. I’d bring in her Russian accent, clashing with her use of American slang.
I stuffed my passport inmy purse and grabbed my carry on bag that was filled with rag mags and snacks. We had over 18 hours of traveling ahead of us. I needed to be prepared.
“Coming!” I yelled from my bedroom door as I closed it behind me.
I jogged down the stairs into the living room where Katya waited with our mountain of suitcases. You’d think we were moving, especially Katya who had the most, though her excuse was that she was taking gifts home to her family. Confusing sentence. Knowing Katya at least one of her suitcases was filled with shoes alone, that girl took fashion seriously.
Katya came into view. She was your typical Russian supermodel. Her hair was platinum blonde, skin pale, eyes an ice blue, and she was perfectly skinny. I think this belongs in the previous paragraph, at the beginning. You can compress the description a bit. The total opposite of me, black and curvy. I knew I was going to stand out from the moment we stepped off the plane.
Besides the obvious with my dark skin, my look was very much unlike the look of the people of Russia. My lips big and pouty thanks to my genes. I held a strong curve; my ex would go on and on about how he loved my coke bottle shape, big behind, plentiful rack, and small waist.
“He is coming in for the luggage,” Katya announced to me in her thick accent as she picked up her purse from our lime green couch. “You have all things?”
“I’m sure I have everything,” I informed her as I did another quick look through my purse.
“Good, I bring many condoms. Time to get you nice Russian dick,” she mentioned nonchalantly.
My eyes shot up to see the cab driver standing in the door, his mouth gaping open, clearly shocked at Katya’s comments. I was used to it, after five years with that girl. I wasn’t surprised at anything that came out of her mouth.
I shook my head. I’d been single for the last year after my ex-fiancé and I called it quits. More like me walking in on him with some chick, but the fact of the matter was, it was over, and I had no prospects in sight. Katya liked to point out that fact whenever she could. Katya wasn’t short on suitors. She was always in and out with another guy every other week or so.
Katya and I on the outside were total opposites, Katya said whatever came to her mind while I stayed more reserved in what came out my mouth. Katya kept me on my toes and kept me in line. There were so many times I considered giving up on everything, but Katya would always get me back in line, and I did the same for her.
“All of these?” the driver asked quickly as he motioned to our suitcases.
“Yep, all of them,” I noted with a hint of apology in my voice, not just for the amount of luggage, but Katya’s wild and slightly shocking mouth.
“Alright, let me get them in,” he said as he grabbed the first two and heaviest suitcases, both belonging to Katya.
“I am excited. I have not had Christmas at home in years,” Katya said as she began to close the curtains in the living room. “Ms. Thompson is coming to check and get mail, yes?”
“Yep, she said she’ll come by every other day,” I said.
Our neighbor, a sweet old lady, and our landlord had promised to keep an eye out on the place while we were gone.
It only took a few more minutes for the cab driver to get the last of our things and for us to lock up the house before we were off to SeaTac.
Upon arrival at Seattle International Airport, Katya paid the driver, and he arranged our luggage on carts for us. Checking in was fairly easy, and after a two-hour wait we were boarding our first plane of the trip.
“My fucking ex, he keep message me,” Katya grunted as she toyed around with her cell phone. We were lucky that our plane had wi-fi.
“Which ex?” I asked her, it was hard to keep track of all of Katya’s exs.
“The one home, in Russia. The one I sleep with last time I go home,” Katya explained.
“Oh yes, Igor. The on and off boyfriend.” I knew of Igor; he was the guy Katya always ran back to the few times she went back to Russia, it always ended with her in tears, he was an enigma when it came to her.
“Fuck him,” she grunted angrily. I rolled my eyes; I knew the moment she saw him any anger and animosity she had towards him would melt away and she would be in his bed in on
ly moments.
“You say that now,” I commented as I flipped through my magazine.
“Shut up. I don’t need him,” she insisted. She needed him; she needed him bad. Every time she’d have a moment of reminiscing, after too many glasses of white wine, she’d go on and on about Igor. She wouldn’t shut up about Igor and his big dick.
“What’s it going to be like, Russia?” I asked her as I closed my magazine and turned to her.
“It is magical. You love it. When we get there, you need better coat. You freeze to death in stupid Old Navy thing of yours,” she said as she motioned to my purple peacoat.
I frowned. I’d lasted many Seattle winters with that coat.
“It will be fun. My family does big feast for holidays. They are happy I bring American friend.”
Grabbing my purse, I reached inside and pulled out a textbook. Though I was on break, I had to keep up with the upcoming semester.
“No, there is no school on trip!” Katya growled.
“I need to keep ready for next semester. I’m taking this physics class that I hear will kick my ass. Plus, it is with Professor Marshall, he is hard to please, and I’ve been trying to get on as his TA,” I explained to my best friend, who rolled her eyes.
Katya was very smart and good in school, but she also got by with her charm. She could charm the pants off any professor and pass a class without much effort. Me on the other hand, I knew hard work was the key to my future.
“Whatever, Ms. Scientist,” Katya mocked.
I shook my head and looked down at the advanced equations in my book. My head already hurt, maybe Katya was right, no school on the trip. Though that TA position with Professor Marshall was up for grabs and I wanted it. I wouldn’t just be working for the head of the physics department, but I’d also be able to snag a kick ass letter of recommendation when I applied for my Ph.D. program.
“I do not understand how you do.” Katya motioned to my textbook. I laughed.
“It’s not that hard.”
“You say. I have jealous of your brain.”
I’d always been that girl, obsessed with my education and learning. Anything new to me, I was always willing to learn. That’s what excited me the most about the trip; there was so much to learn about Russia and their long history. Though I normally spent all my time working, I had resolved to relax, have fun, and learn a new culture.
“For trip, you keep book away. Okay, Ms. Responsible?”
Katya had that nickname for me, Ms. Responsible. I was like the mother in our friendship, always looking out for her, for us. Growing up, responsibility was placed on my shoulders at an early age; it has become a part of me. Was I ready to shed some of the layers of responsibility away?
THE FLIGHT HAD been entirely too long for me. When we’d finally reached Amsterdam for our layover, I didn’t want to see another plane again, but we still had one more flight of a few hours until our final destination.
Landing in St. Petersburg I looked out of the window, everything was white and covered in a thick layer of snow. I’d experienced snow before; I’d lived in Seattle for a number of years, it couldn’t be as bad as Katya made it out to be.
Arriving at customs, I had to stand in a different line than Katya. My roommate was through in only moments, while I along with other foreigners were subject to scrutiny.
The line moved incredibly slow, but finally, it was my turn. The man that greeted me at the window was older, pale-faced, with stone cold eyes. I swallowed at the sight of him as I handed over my American passport.
He flipped through the empty pages and examined the visa that had been glued into a page. He glared at my photo, his eyes glancing up towards me to make sure I was the same girl in the photo.
“Why you come to Russia?” he inquired, voice strong and unwavering. I nearly pissed my pants.
“Visiting with a friend,” I answered honestly.
“Where is friend?”
“She’s already through; she’s Russian.”
A small, barely noticeable smile came to the edge of his lips, apparently, I’d said some sort of magic words to possibly grant my entrance.
“Ah, you have tour guide, yes?”
“I suppose.”
“You have good time. Welcome to Russia.” With that, he stamped my passport and handed it back to me.
Not taking any chances at refusal, I muttered my thanks and rushed through to where I found Katya, standing with our luggage and glaring down at her phone, obviously awaiting another text from Igor.
“Any word from Igor the Great?” I asked mockingly, knowing Igor’s distinctive nickname. Katya shot me a look; I assumed the answer was no.
“Let’s go,” she said as she pushed the luggage cart towards the exit doors.
From the moment we moved into the arrivals halls, there was an eruption of excited screams and Katya upped her speed until we reached three women.
These women were obviously Katya’s family, all blonde, and all looked very much like her, but at various ages. They all pulled Katya into huge hugs and kisses. All of them including Katya spoke together in rushed and joyous Russian.
I knew this moment well, whenever I went home my family would greet me all happy and excited, I’d be smothered in hugs and kisses.
“I forget, this is Rae, my roommate in America,” Katya said as she introduced me to her family. “This is mom.”
“Hello Rae, you may call Sofiia,” the first of the two middle-aged blondes said to me before kissing me on the cheek. I’d seen her over Skype on several occasions as she and Katya spoke often.
“That is grandma. Everyone call her Babushka, grandma in Russian,” Katya explained as she introduced the oldest of the women. She was wrinkled but held the same beauty as my friend; it was obviously their beauty traveled down the line and did so with grace.
The older woman, Babushka, came to me and kissed my cheek. She didn’t say much. I assumed that she possibly didn’t speak English.
“I last, the star,” the second middle aged woman said, she was slightly older than Sofiia, but not too much. She wore a sparkling scarf, and it was obvious she was the attention whore of the bunch, though she had stiff competition with Katya who was the biggest attention whore I knew. “I am Tsvetana, favorite aunt to Katya.”
“My only aunt,” Katya noted slyly as Tsvetana came to me and pulled me into a hug before kissing me on the cheek as the other women had done.
The moment we exited the airport, my face burned, physically burned at the frigid cold. My limbs began to shake uncontrollably at the freezing temperatures I was experiencing. Katya turned to me and smiled.
“I tell you.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled through my shivering state.
Katya turned to her mother and began speaking in Russian, I struggled to follow behind, shivering with each step I took. Sofiia turned back to me and observed my current state, she quickly turned back to Katya and said something.
“Mama has coat now. Later we do shopping, we get proper coat,” Katya explained to me, I eagerly nodded in approval.
The city passed by as Sofiia drove us. Katya would tell me about different places as we went along. I couldn’t wait to explore and learn more. It was all so different than what I was used to. The age of the buildings stood out to me, the history standing out immediately. It was nothing like where I’d grown up in the California Bay Area.
We arrived at a large apartment building, it was relatively plain, a perfect rectangle filled with apartments. I braced myself before getting out of the car and into the frigid air. I took my last good breath because my lungs were unable to breathe normally in the freezing air.
Luckily, the walk into the building was short, and I was able to take a good and non-painful deep breath once inside.
We had to take the tiny elevator in turns. Katya went first with half the luggage. I was next with the second half. I arrived to meet Katya on the floor we were staying on, the hall was long and dimly lit.
&
nbsp; Following Katya, we dragged our luggage down to an apartment. It wasn’t long before we were joined by Sofiia, Tsvetana, and Babushka.
Sofiia unlocked the door, and the moment we stepped into the apartment, we were greeted with a shocking amount of cheers. I was taken aback as the lights came on. My eyes adjusted to find the small apartment packed with people all rushing to give Katya hugs and kisses at her arrival.
After all the greetings and kisses from people. Katya and I were given a moment to take our things to her room. We entered a small bedroom, it was definitely Katya’s old room. The walls were her favorite color of lilac and covered in posters of celebrities. It was Katya’s style as her room in our shared place was similar.
“Sorry, we must share bed,” Katya noted as she pointed out the queen size bed in the room. That was fine with me. I simply shrugged as I was able to take my coat off.
I sat on the bed.
“No message from Igor.” I could hear the disappointment in Katya’s voice as she looked down at her phone.
“Fuck him, you have an entire apartment of family all excited to see you,” I proudly proclaimed to my friend who instantly perked up as she fluffed her blonde hair.
“You’re right.”
“I am!”
Katya and I, though both jetlagged out of our minds, joined the party happening in the other room. Everyone around spoke in Russian, and I had no idea what was going on. Babushka made me a plate of food and sat me on the couch with it.
Though I was in foreign territory and had no idea what anyone was saying, I felt like I was at home with family, a feeling I never got to enjoy often as I was always focused on school and working my two jobs.