Blood & Torment (Pins and Needles: Moscow Book 2) Read online

  So much for having an easy day.

  Nikita leans back on the couch and closes her eyes, but Trista gently taps the ice against her lip and cheek. If she does it like that, it won’t help the swelling at all. I head over to where she is and take the ice pack from her hand. “You need to do it like this,” I tell her, pressing the ice a bit firmly against her skin.

  She flinches, but there’s nothing I can do about the pain. “I know it hurts now, but soon enough, you will begin to feel better.”

  Trista glances up at me with her deep blue eyes and it’s as if she’s silently thanking me. Little does she know I will feel guilt for letting the events that happened today get this far. I should’ve stopped it before she was slapped, but I didn’t. I moved too slow and allowed him to hurt her.

  Just like Khristina, another woman’s pain is on my hands.

  Chapter Four

  Trista

  By the end of the day, I’m exhausted and ready to just curl up on my couch in my apartment. As a matter of fact, curling up with a glass of wine while listening to Demi Lovato’s new album sounds great. Music has always been my escape. So much so I started writing my own music, but only Dema knows. She knows about me writing music and the fact I can play most instruments. I taught myself how to play and I’m really good at it. I’m not being conceited, though. I had great teachers growing up. Unfortunately, I don’t play anymore. Why, you might ask? Jacob broke my guitar. He said I was too stupid to play something people would actually listen to. No one knows he crushed my dreams that day, tore more of my heart out and put it in an emotional blender.

  Instead of taking the elevator, I go up the stairs and slowly make my way up to my floor. I hate confined places and elevators freak me out. It’s why I don’t usually take the elevator up to my apartment. I end up making it there and notice a sticky note on the door.

  Removing it from the door, I read it and smile. Sascha and Ruslan left a note for me, demanding I make a presence at dinner this evening and how they wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. So, if I don’t carry my tail over there, Ruslan will be coming over to my place, proceed to put me over his shoulder, and cart me over to their apartment. Where he’d more than likely place me at the dining table.

  Family meals are meant for families to have together. He told me this the last time we had one together. According to them, the moment I shed the first tear for them as they heard my secrets, I became theirs to protect. Ruslan told me how everyone needs a protector, and he isn’t wrong. This was the first thing he said to me in Russian and the first phrase he taught me to speak. Since then, he and Sascha have been teaching me the language.

  Normally I’m a quick learner, but I find myself being slower at learning foreign languages. Which is okay as long as I learn the language. I’d rather take my time and know what I’m saying versus making mistakes.

  Going into my apartment, I glance around the place, taking it all in as if it was the first time I’ve ever been in here. I’m looking at it the same way like I did when I got here, absorbing just how much this place doesn’t really seem like it would be where I live. The dark furniture points to a man living here, and as much as I want to upgrade and make this place my own, I’m grateful for Kronid for allowing me to live here.

  I’m thankful to Kronid for so much, especially the stereo system he left for me here. I put it to use far more than the TV, although when I’m feeling the need to watch something, I do love watching it on the massive screen.

  Kronid left almost everything here for me. He took only his clothes and personal items. The only piece of furniture he ended up taking was his bed, saying they needed it because it’s bigger than Dema’s. I brought enough money with me to be able to purchase one for myself, so it wasn’t a big deal. The one I bought is the same size as the one that was in here in the first place. I love sleeping in it. It’s more comfortable than any other mattress I’ve ever had the pleasure of owning, but sometimes I just want to lay down and read a book on it.

  Since being here in Russia, I’ve been reading more about the culture. I don’t want to accidentally do something that might end up insulting someone or making them mad. I’ve also been reading a dark mafia series by two of my favorite authors, E.C. Land and Elizabeth Knox, and I’m giddy to see what happens to Madelaine. She’s such a spunky character, but not only that, she’s relatable. She isn’t someone from one of those prissy, expensive families who have billions of dollars. She’s a normal woman with real struggles. Gosh, I wish I could read right now, but I’ll have to wait until I get back.

  Sighing, I go to my room, change into a pair of fleece-lined yoga leggings and a comfortable, thick hoodie. All my bruises are healed for the most part, but it doesn’t mean all of what Jacob did to me has. Especially not the mental scars, but I have a feeling those will be with me for a long time to come.

  Slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks, I grab my phone and keys, and lock the door. I walk the short distance to their place and walk right in, calling out, “Honeys, I’m home.”

  The joke is met with a chuckle from Sascha and a grunt from Ruslan as they part.

  “Oops, did I interrupt? I can go back to my place, give you two time alone,” I murmur while a rush of heat storms over my cheeks. I didn’t mean to walk in on the two of them. Ugh, add it to the list of embarrassing things I do.

  “No, you’re fine,” Sascha says while smiling and looks adoringly at Ruslan. Most people would seem to fear him, but not Sascha. You can see the love he has for his man, and I wish I had something like that.

  Wait, no, I don’t. I suck at men.

  Maybe I need to try playing for the other team, eat some pussy. I doubt a woman would ever treat me the way Jacob did.

  Ugh, what’s the use? I don’t even think I’d make a good lesbian either. I’ll just stick to my toys. They don’t hurt me and I don’t have to worry about whether or not I’m appealing to anyone. I get I have scars on my body that no one has seen. Well, except Ruslan and Sascha. I can blame that on the Russian vodka, though. I was fucking smashed when I told them everything.

  It seems vodka is a truth serum for me. Each time they gave me a glass of the stuff, words came out that I wanted to keep to myself. The last time they had gotten me drunk on the blasted stuff, I spilled my guts about the marks marring my body. They already knew about the bruises, but they didn’t know about the other stuff.

  Ruslan moves to the bar and pours us all a drink. Of course, it’s vodka. One thing I’m realizing is how it’s a staple drink here in Russia. It’s a good thing I’ve always been a clear liquor girl and not dark. I can’t stand bourbon or whiskey. Give me vodka and gin any day. Well, it has to be the clear kind of gin and not the spiced stuff. Oh, and if we were back in the States, I love apple pie moonshine. That stuff is the best and puts even vodka to shame, in my opinion.

  Taking the glass from Ruslan, I take a seat at the table while Sascha does his thing finishing dinner. I learned quickly you don’t step into his space while he’s cooking. He could go to school for culinary arts, but he prefers to keep his talent to his own kitchen, cooking for only one man and me, of course.

  “How was your day?” Sascha asks, pulling a pot off the stove and ladling the contents into three bowls. The smell is to die for and my mouth waters.

  “What’s that?” I ask, countering his question and trying to find out what he’s fixing for dinner.

  “This is solyanka soup. Now answer my question,” Sascha demands, bringing two of the bowls to the table and goes back for the other bowl, and rolls he freshly baked.

  Everything Sascha makes is homemade and he balks at anything that’s out of the can. It’s ironic considering he works at a café and there must be things they have that’re processed.

  “My day was the same as it always is. You know that,” I murmur as I shrug, not wanting them to know the truth of how I’ve felt throughout the day. If they knew, they might tell Dema or even Kronid. I’m just thankful they’ve kept it to themselves
for this long and I hope they continue to do so. I don’t want anyone else knowing how weak I was. It’s embarrassing, and it will forever be my biggest regret.

  Chapter Five

  Michail

  “Kronid! Didn’t think I’d see you for a couple more days.” Meghan’s voice echoes through the parlor like always, but she’s a loud one. Maybe a bit too loud if you ask me.

  Kronid isn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, so I leave his office and shut the door behind me, heading out to the parlor area. He’s standing in the center, in the middle of a conversation with Meghan. “Michail, I’m sure you’ll be as surprised to see Kronid as I am.” She’s sounding like a teenager who was throwing a party while her father was out of town. I don’t know why she’s acting so weird, but she is, and I don’t like it.

  “I have a few things to update you on, but it can wait until tomorrow if you’re not working today.” The last thing I want to do is cause more stress when he has enough going on. Dema’s pregnant, for goodness’ sake. His entire life is going to change soon and everyone here knows it to be true.

  “I’m working today. Dema missed her grandparents, so we came back a day early. She’s at home cooking with her grandmother for a few hours, so I thought I’d check in on things. Come to my office with me and update me on how the last few days have gone.” Kronid walks ahead of me and we head into his office. I make sure I shut the door behind me because I know the moment I tell him about what transpired the other day, he won’t be happy.

  “Things went well while I was away?” Kronid asks me, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. After I don’t answer him right away, he turns and stares me down. “What happened, Michail?”

  I inhale and take a moment to find the words. Regardless, the man is going to be pissed. He’s quite the hothead, especially when it comes to the business. “First and foremost, I handled the situation and everyone is okay.”

  “What the hell happened?” Kronid hisses, accentuating every word.

  “A man came into the shop and was with Nikita. I saw on the camera he grabbed her, so I came out and he thinks she’s a whore. He said it multiple times, how she was a whore and he was supposed to get more than the tattoo. He had his hand wrapped around her neck, and Trista was slapped by him.”

  “You’re kidding me!” Kronid roars so loudly I believe he’s going to pick up a piece of furniture and throw it across the room.

  I take a step closer to him, but the moment I do regret swarms through me. Kronid glares at me like he’s a caged animal. “You should’ve called me and you know it. We have protocols here for a reason.”

  “Dema asked me to let you both have a few days of peace. She’s pregnant, Kronid. Who am I to deny her?”

  “You work for me, not for my fucking woman!” Kronid picks up a vase from the side table next to the couch and slams it against the floor. With nostrils flaring, I know I’ve made a grave mistake here.

  “I am sorry, Kronid, but I will not disrespect the things she asks of me. She is basically your wife and you know this to be true. I respected a boundary of a woman asking me not to nag her husband, who is my boss. You cannot be angry at me for such a thing. You would do the same.”

  Kronid clenches his fists at his sides but curtly nods. Though I can see he’s not happy, we agree to disagree at this time. “I don’t like what you did.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry you don’t, but it was the right thing to do. Dema is much more terrifying than you, my friend,” I joke at the end and it works. Kronid cracks a smile and laughs.

  “It’s true. I’ve been teaching Dema how to defend herself and she’s quite the savage.”

  “What’s her weapon of choice?” Now I’m curious.

  “Knives.”

  “Of all things, she likes knives?” I break out into laughter, and Kronid soon joins me.

  “I assumed she’d prefer handguns, but no, she chose knives. The woman constantly keeps me on my toes.”

  “All women do this, no?” I haven’t been with a woman in so long I can’t remember. While I’ve fucked them, I haven’t been in a relationship with one for many years now.

  “They do.”

  Things grow quiet between us, but since Kronid’s getting in a better mood, I keep him talking. “How are things going with the baby?” He doesn’t speak much about it yet, but I know that men generally talk about the baby much more when the women show.

  “Good, growing like a weed, strong. We’re very blessed and have a very healthy child. It’s all I could hope for. Now, tell me about work. What else has been going on? You need to catch me up to speed.”

  “Things are going well. I spoke to Marty yesterday and requested he come here to meet Khristina. She’s been through much already, and I don’t wish to make things difficult on her again.”

  “Understandable. When’s he coming?”

  “In a couple of weeks, he’ll be here.”

  “Perfect. Now, get your ass out of here and take the rest of the day off. I’ve had some days of rest, so now you deserve it too.”

  I appreciate the offer, but he knows I’m a man who prefers to work. “I can stay. It’s no problem.”

  “It wasn’t a suggestion. You get going and spend some time with that sister of yours.” Mila, my younger sister. She lives with me and has since we left our village when I was sixteen. I did everything I could to keep food in our bellies and shelter over our heads. Now we’ve been in Moscow for years and I’ve created a stable life for us both. She’s off attending college, so with my money I make from working for Kronid, I can afford to pay for a decent place to live, all the bills, food, and pay for her classes. She can’t go to school full time because I don’t make that much money, but Mila appreciates everything I’ve done for her.

  “Thank you for the afternoon off,” I tell Kronid and leave, doing as he’s requested of me. I head out through the front door and make a pit stop across the street to get some desserts for Mila and me. They will be a good treat for when she comes home from school. She probably doesn’t know how very proud I am of her. She’s done so many great things and will continue to make me proud. My Mila, she is going places and I will shout it from the rooftops one day.

  Chapter Six

  Trista

  Over the past few weeks, things have been the same as always. After dinner with Ruslan and Sascha, I ended up crashing between the two of them in their bed. I drank way too much vodka, and in doing so, spilled my heart out to them.

  This time I told them about my nightmares, and they’ve helped me find ways to keep them at bay. The trick is to make my mind believe I’m safer than I think, and in doing so, I feel safer than I have been in quite a long time. Honestly, this might be the safest I’ve felt in my entire life. I wish I’d met Ruslan and Sascha before now, that they were part of my entire life. If they were, I bet I never would’ve gotten into the relationship with Jacob in the first place. These two men are the family I wish I had growing up.

  Each day I’ve gone to work, did my job, kept a smile on my face, and only when I get home have I allowed it to falter. Ruslan has come in several times to check on me. He’s made sure I had lunch and coffee, kind of like a supportive older brother.

  Meghan made a joke the first two times he’d done this, saying I’d better not be hitting it off with Ruslan when he’s with Sascha. This upset me, but I’d let it go. Not that it’s any of her business anyway, but I know she’s only messing around. She knows those two are tight. Sascha told me when he goes out with Meghan and the rest of their friends I’ve yet to meet, Ruslan always goes with them.

  Ruslan and Sascha both came in together the third time and that put a stop to Meghan’s joke. It’s when the two of them officially declared they were my big brothers now, which only makes me giddy.

  When Kronid took Dema away on a trip, I made sure to check on her grandparents. Sascha did the cooking for them and the three of us all spent time with them in the evenings. Her grandfather even taught me h
ow to play cards, and we might’ve eaten a few sweets from the café together. I’m a sucker for the Russian sweets. They’re so good.

  Dema started working again two days ago, and she’s constantly smiling. I love her to death, even if I’m slightly jealous. I’ll never tell her or steal her thunder. One day, I will find my happiness and for now, I’ll just have to be content with my routine.

  Last night, I told both Ruslan and Sascha I needed to start staying in my apartment again. How I intruded on them enough. This got me the palm up from Sascha and a stern look from Ruslan. “You don’t sleep at your apartment until you feel safe on your own again. When that happens, then you can do so.”

  Sitting at my desk at Pins and Needles, I smile at the text from Dema. Her grandparents have doctor appointments today, so she took the day off to take them.

  Dema:

  Dinner tomorrow night? You and me?

  Me:

  Love too. I’ve missed your face.

  Dema:

  You saw me yesterday.

  I can imagine her eye roll.

  Me:

  Seeing you at work isn’t the same. I miss having our girl time where we can talk.

  Dema:

  Talk?

  Crap. I should’ve seen that coming.

  Me:

  Oh yes, I need all the deets on the sexy time you and Kronid are having. We haven’t had a fun chat like that in a while.

  Here’s to hoping she’ll bite and it won’t be serious. I’m crossing my fingers and doing everything I can to make sure it isn’t anything too bad.

  Dema:

  I’m not talking about that stuff.

  Me:

  Yeah, okay. You know you wanna brag and can’t do that here.

  A grin slips into place because I can almost hear her sigh throughout the messages. She’s never been with anyone besides Kronid and I’m sure she’s got questions.