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

  Dema:

  Whatever. I’ll make reservations and send you a text with the time and place.

  Putting my phone down on my desk, I roll my eyes. Kronid and Michail came in earlier and headed to the back, where they’ve stayed the entire time. This is pretty normal for them. They don’t come out front unless either of them is needed. A lot of the time, I’m able to handle the situation without calling for them. Plus, they have security cameras all over the place. The cameras allow them to see what’s going on up front, in the break room, and I imagine everywhere else.

  Scanning the computer screen, I lift my head as the door opens and nearly jump out of my seat when Ally comes in, followed by several members of the Devil’s Riot MC. “What the ever-loving fuck, Trista?” she yells, slapping her hand on the counter in front of me.

  Ally’s not one for yelling and the fact she’s doing so means she’s really pissed. Glancing behind her, I lick my lips nervously at the sight of not only Burner but Dragon, Gadget, Red, and K-9.

  Oh boy. I guess leaving without contacting her wasn’t a good thing.

  “Um,” I murmur apprehensively and hear the door to the back of the shop open.

  Great, this isn’t good.

  Either Kronid or Michail is coming up. Out of the two, I’m hoping it’s not Michail.

  “Everything okay here?” Michail asks in his thick, sexy as sin accent.

  That’s just my luck. Of course, it would be Michail coming to the front. I’m cursed for nothing to ever go right. I’m damned forever to be tormented with bad luck.

  “Here, I thought something bad happened to you. Freaked out that Jacob did something to you. Come to find out you left the fuckin’ country,” Ally yells with a sassy as hell voice as her hands go to her hips. “Worst of all, you left without telling me.”

  My heart starts to race at the mention of Jacob’s name.

  “Who are all of you?” Michail demands.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I . . . well . . . there was an emergency and I needed to leave,” I utter, not wanting to discuss this in front of Michail.

  “Does this emergency involve the state we found your apartment in?” Burner growls.

  Oh shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  Not only is Ally pissed, but her ol’ man is too. This isn’t good. I’m so beyond fucked right now.

  “Um.”

  Burner shakes his head and holds his hand up. “Don’t come up with any lies. You know you can’t lie for shit and your poker face is even worse. Now answer me, does this emergency have anything to do with the way we found your apartment?”

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Someone tell me what’s going on here?” Michail snarls loudly, glaring at Burner. I don’t know why he’s glaring, but Burner isn’t the type of man you should ever glare at. Not unless you want a bullet between your eyes.

  “Babe, explain the blood we saw then. We know it ain’t that fuckwad’s, his ass is still intact,” K-9 speaks up as he steps forward.

  “You’ve seen him?” My eyes widen with panic and I start to breathe heavily.

  “Yeah, the fucker was slinking around your place. Caught up with him one time, but his fuckin’ gang has been at your apartment,” Dragon growls.

  “Was the blood yours?” Red demands.

  I give Michail a sideways glance to find him going silent as he studies the situation and tries to figure out what happened.

  Great. This is exactly what I need right now. Instead of answering them with words, I cast my gaze down, not responding at all.

  “Motherfucker,” K-9 snarls. “Why didn’t you come to us?”

  “I . . . please . . . I don’t . . . not . . . not here,” I murmur, looking at Ally, who seems to have calmed some after seeing me alive and well.

  “Fine, we’ll talk about it later. You’re gonna have to realize this one day, Trista, but you have people who care about you. You left without a word, and we didn’t know what happened to you. I got worried and then I brought these guys into it. I thought you were dead. You know they see you as family as well, so it’s time to open up. We’ll go to the hotel we’re staying at and meet you later for dinner,” Ally whispers compassionately.

  Nodding, I agree to meet them later and they finally leave. But, when they leave, I have to face Michail.

  “Care to explain any of what just happened to me?” he demands, crossing his arms over his chest. How is it he still looks delectable? Fuck, he’s pissed, but in that buttoned-down black shirt with the open collar, it just makes me want to drool.

  Shaking my head, I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I’d prefer not to.”

  Something seems to be working through Michail’s mind and he nods. “Alright, I’ll wait, but you’ll be explaining all of this later. I will find out who this Jacob is and what he did to you, not to mention whoever all of them were and what they want.” The beat of my heart goes still as Michail moves even closer. “I’m willing to bet I know exactly what’s going on. Because you went from wearing hoodies and turtlenecks to wearing zip-up jackets and tank tops. For now, you can keep your secret, mysh’, but just remember, you and I will be talking about this.” With that, Michail stands straight, goes to the back of the shop and through the doors, disappearing from my sight.

  Oh boy.

  I’m screwed even more if he ever finds out everything.

  Because if he knows, I’ll never have a chance with him even if I wanted one.

  Which I don’t, right?

  Chapter Seven

  Michail

  I could stay here a bit longer, but I’m growing antsy. Ever since those people came in earlier, my curiosity has been eating away at me. Who is this Jacob person, and what’s bothering Trista? Obviously, something is going on and I need to know. I don’t understand the desire to have the answers when it comes to this, but something about Trista’s secretiveness doesn’t sit well with me. In fact, whenever anyone hides things, it only means they’re trouble. I don’t want to think the same about her, but I will until she proves to me otherwise.

  I’ve finished my work for the day and decided to stay late and get a head start on tomorrow. It made more sense for me to stay here anyway until a bit before seven. My sister texted me and said she was having dinner with a friend, so I’d be on my own tonight anyway. Dema had come up to me not too long ago and said she had a reservation for her and Kronid at the fancy restaurant next to the café across the street, but how she wasn’t feeling up to going. Considering she’s only a couple months into her pregnancy, it makes sense. It takes ages to get in there, so she offered it to me. Figuring it’d be a while since I could get a good meal like this, I accepted her offer and she told me she’d hoped I would’ve and already changed the reservation to be in my name.

  Standing, I straighten my tie and quietly say my goodbyes to the team of artists who’re working until close. I head across the street and go up to the hostess station, give her my name, and she takes me upstairs to a private table behind a curtain. Shit, Kronid must’ve been trying to take Dema on a nice date. I take my seat as the hostess tells me my waiter will be with me shortly, and sure enough, a young man, maybe in his twenties, comes up and takes my drink order. As always, I order a vodka and a water as well while I mull over the appetizer menu.

  A few minutes pass by and footsteps growing closer cause me to look up, though the moment the curtain is pulled back, I see a very familiar face. One I didn’t intend on seeing—Trista’s.

  The sudden grumble in my stomach instantly halts. “Trista. What’re you doing here?”

  Trista looks around, obviously confused. “Is Dema here?”

  “No. She and Kronid canceled their reservation tonight. They gave it to me. Did she not tell you?” The three of them must’ve been going to dinner. It would make sense considering Dema and Trista are very close friends.

  Trista blinks at me for a moment before she scrunches up her nose in a displeased manner. “I can’t believe she did this,” she grumbles, he
r statement so low I almost didn’t hear it.

  “And what is it she did?” I question. Crossing my arms, I lean back in my chair, staring the woman down, quickly realizing what, in fact, has happened.

  Dema told her they’d meet up for dinner, and Dema told me she canceled a reservation . . . the woman set us up on a blind date. Trista doesn’t look amused in the least bit and the mere fact she’s gnawing on her bottom lip with her cheeks becoming a tinted red only causes me to break out into laughter. I wonder if Kronid had any idea about this or if all of it was Dema.

  “I’m so glad you’re finding this amusing!” Trista snaps in an annoyed voice.

  “It’s not that it’s amusing, it’s just . . . unexpected, but please, come have a seat.”

  Trista’s eyes go wide like I’ve asked her to sit down with someone who came down with the bubonic plague. “I . . . I don’t think it would be a good idea.” She’s so quick to shut this down, but Dema must’ve seen something here.

  “What can it hurt? We’ve already made it this far, so please, have a seat. I was about to have dinner alone anyway, and some company would be nice.”

  Trista sucks in a sharp breath and nods, takes the seat across from me, and clears her throat. “So, we’re really going to do this, huh?”

  “If you mean have dinner with pleasant company, then yes.”

  Trista doesn’t say a word, though the way her eyes linger on mine for a few moments before I hand over the menu tells me exactly what I need to know. Dema might’ve seen something between us, and I don’t think she’s wrong. I’ve caught Trista blushing when I’ve made a joke or averting her eyes quickly when I walk past the receptionist’s desk. It’s like she’s trying to stare down at work, to keep her eyes off me.

  Trista mulls over the menu and I watch the way she purses her lips together as she looks over the items. Her hair falls in loose waves around her face, kind of in the way you’d see the girls have when they come off the beach.

  The waiter pushes the curtain back open and he appears to be a bit surprised. “Ah, I didn’t realize you were having company. I figured you were dining alone this evening. Care for a drink, miss?”

  “She’ll have a red wine and a glass of water,” I answer for Trista as the strong desire to order for her comes through me.

  Trista smiles lightly in my direction and averts her blue eyes back to the menu. The waiter nods and leaves us when Trista speaks up. “How do you know I even like red wine?”

  “I listen, that’s why. You told Meghan the other day you’d kill for a glass of a good red after work, and now I’m making it happen.”

  Trista narrows her eyes on me, her smile shifting into a smirk. “I don’t know whether you’re being a gentleman or a bit arrogant.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I give her an honest answer. “A bit of both.”

  Her smile grows wider and it’s not long before there’s a twinkle of mischief in her eye. I think she’s open to this, and I hope I’m right. Now I’m sitting across the table from her. I’m heavily tempted to see where this night might end up, and I pray it leads to my face between those thighs of hers.

  I can tell she’s trying to refrain from smiling, but as much as she tries, it only grows wider until she manages to hold it back by smirking as she continues looking at the menu. I sit back and watch her do this for a few minutes, noticing she keeps darting her eyes between a few things. “Having a hard time deciding?”

  She peers up at me through her thick lashes. “Yeah, it looks like everything they have here is delicious. Have you ever eaten here before?”

  “Once, and their food is delicious. Anything you try, I will guarantee you’ll like it.”

  The waiter comes back through the curtain. “Are you both ready to order this evening?” he asks as he places Trista’s drinks down in front of her.

  I glance at Trista, and she appears to be a bit at a loss, trying to decide what she wants. “What is it that you’re looking at?” I ask her, and she leans over the table, giving me an ample view of her breasts. I try not to look for too long, but I am a man, and well, fuck. Her rack isn’t overly robust, but it’s enough to grab a mouth or handful of.

  “These, I don’t know what they are . . . but what do you think I’d like?” She points to three items on the menu, and I look at the waiter.

  “We’re going to split a few meals tonight. Pirozhki, shashlik, and stroganoff.” The waiter nods at my words and quickly takes his leave.

  Trista, on the other hand, sits up a bit straighter and cocks a brow. “I didn’t realize you were ordering the entire menu.”

  “I didn’t, but I can. Is that what you’d like?” She’s being a bit sassy, and I have no problem meeting her attitude with my own. Truth be told, I didn’t realize she had a steel back like this. It’s good, something I’ve always looked for in a woman. My entire life, I’ve imagined dating a Russian or Ukrainian woman, but an American sits across from me just as strong. How peculiar.

  “I don’t know how I didn’t see this before,” Trista murmurs lowly.

  “Didn’t see what?” I counter, waiting for her reply.

  It’s a few moments before she strums up the courage to state her thoughts. “How . . . cocky you can be. I think I may have misjudged you, Michail.” Somehow, I believe she isn’t saying this in a positive light.

  Clearing my throat, I tell her what I tell every person who ever thinks they know who I am. “There’s much more about me than meets the eye, mysh’. I only allow people to see what I want them to see.”

  Trista immediately furrows her brows and asks me a question I never expect to come from her lips. “What don’t you want them to see, Michail?”

  Without hesitation, I answer her. “My darkness.”

  “Everyone has darkness, and it’s not something to be ashamed of,” Trista tells me as if she’s had firsthand experience. When those people came into the parlor earlier, I believed something else might’ve been going on, and while I still feel this way . . . I have the strong urge to uncover whatever she’s hiding.

  “So, tell me about yours then,” I prompt her, hoping she’ll take my bait.

  “I’d rather not.” Trista’s quick to shut down.

  “Alright, then I will share mine with you. It started when my mother died and I was forced to care for my younger sister. We come from a small village and I saw too many . . . bad . . . things happen there. I won’t get into the details, but my mother’s death, it opened my eyes to how the world really is.” Trista stares into my eyes as if they’re locked on one another. Her eyes grow watery and I decide to reach for her hand across the table. Only, the moment my fingers touch her skin, she’s yanking her hand away.

  I don’t know how I’ve misunderstood her body language, though I must’ve. If I didn’t, she wouldn’t have ever yanked her hand away from mine. While this night started out well, it seems to be ending in a less than pleasing way.

  Chapter Eight

  Trista

  Over the past few days, I’ve thought almost non-stop about my date with Michail. It was wonderful, and I enjoyed myself very much. But I fucked up when I pulled my hand away from his. I saw the look on his face, the disappointment, the confusion. He thought we were headed one way and I went and screwed it up.

  I flinched and yanked my hand away from his touch when Jacob’s words popped into my head. To be honest, I’ve been so upset with everything going on. The nightmares have been far too much for me to handle, even with Ruslan and Sascha close by.

  They’ve been worried since that day and had me open up about what happened. Ruslan ended up demanding we invite Ally and everyone over to my place so we could talk that night when I get off work.

  “Now, are you going to tell me what happened?” Ally asks, taking a seat at the large kitchen table I guided them all to a few moments ago. Red and K-9 decided to remain standing while they listen to everything that’s about to be said.

  “I left the night he nearly beat me to death. I intend
ed to call you, but then I got a call from my friend’s man. She needed me and I’ve been saving to come here anyway. I just left and didn’t think. I’m sorry for that,” I admit.

  “That fucker’s a dead man,” Dragon snarls.

  “Only a pussy would beat on a woman,” Gadget sneers.

  The twins share an ol’ lady and I remember hearing something about what happened to her years ago. Connors’ ex-husband had been abusive. When she finally got away from him, she’d been lucky enough to keep not only herself safe, but the baby she was carrying too.

  “What else?” Burner demands, seeming to look further into my soul rather than my gaze.

  “There’s nothing else to it,” I murmur, not wanting to tell them more than I need to. What Jacob did was far worse than I want to admit. And I stayed, for longer than I should’ve. No one will ever understand how I feel, the guilt, the pain, or the regret.

  “What about the blood?” Red questions.

  I close my eyes and shake my head, not wanting to think of it. It’s still too much to talk about.

  “She’s safe here. This Jacob won’t get her, not here,” Sascha says, becoming upset on my behalf. Every day I genuinely feel the love he and Ruslan have for me. They’ve really become adoptive-older brothers, and I’m so grateful for everything they’ve done and are doing for me.

  “We’ll be the judge of that,” K-9 declares, eyeing both Sascha and Ruslan.

  “We’re her family and wouldn’t harm her,” Sascha snaps.

  “Nothing will happen to our Trista,” Ruslan snarls, glaring at K-9.

  “You sure about that?” Gadget asks.

  “Yes,” Ruslan confirms.

  “I believe them,” Ally murmurs. Glancing in her direction, I see her staring at me the way Burner did when he asked what else happened. Those two have such a special relationship it’s eerie sometimes.

  After that, the rest of the night went much more smoothly. They caught me up on all things back home, and I told them about working at the tattoo shop. Ally and Burner decided they wanted to see Dema again before they headed home on the jet, Dragon and Gadget’s cousin lent them for the trip.