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

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Blood & Torment (Pins and Needles: Moscow Book 2) Page 8

by Elizabeth Knox


  Nodding, I lean into him, needing to feel the safeness he gives me from being in his arms once more. I don’t pay anyone or anything else any mind at all while I focus on him and the way he makes me feel. How he settles me makes everything else going on around us seem less serious.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he suggests and guides me out of Pins and Needles, straight to his car. I had to work today, but I don’t even put up a fight. After seeing Jacob, I’m way too mind fucked to be helpful to the parlor.

  When we get to my apartment, he guides me straight to my room, where he proceeds to gently remove my clothes. His clothes follow mine to the floor and he lays me down on the bed.

  Climbing up over me, he peppers kisses along my skin. My breathing grows heavier the closer he comes to my apex. Michail runs a finger through my slit and groans when he finds I’m already dripping for him. I don’t know why he’s deciding to take this route, but I don’t much care. I just want to feel something besides the fear. If this is his idea for distracting me, I’m all for it. Inhaling, he presses a kiss to my pelvic bone and moves up to press a kiss to the scar Jacob gave me.

  Lifting himself further, he lines himself up with my core and meets my gaze. “I want you to remember one thing, kukakla, you’re safe with me. Never fear me because my hands may be stained, but they will never be stained with your blood.”

  Oh my.

  With those words, he slides into me ever so slowly. Michail takes his time, thrusting into me inch by excruciatingly slow inch.

  My breath hitches and I lick my lips. “I know I’m safe with you, Michail. I trust you . . . in fact, I trust you in a way I’ve never trusted anyone,” I whisper, reaching up to brush my hands along his chest and cup his shoulders.

  “Good, because I’ll protect you no matter what, and you giving me your trust means the world to me,” Michail murmurs and begins to increase his momentum with his thrusts.

  Soon he has me panting and begging for more. When I come, I cry out his name and I’m arching my back to get closer to him, needing more of him and his magical cock. He intensifies his pace even more, which immediately throws me into a spiral of ecstasy and I bite down on his shoulder as my orgasm rips through me.

  We may have mind-blowing sex every day of the week, but this man has more of me than anyone else ever has—Michail has my heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Michail

  I’ve watched for him every day, even talked Kronid into getting more security cameras around Pins and Needles, plus inside it. Even with everything we’ve done, no one has seen him at all. I know Trista isn’t lying about seeing him, but sometimes I wonder if her fear caused her to see him. She’s been saying his name in her sleep about every two or three nights, which only makes me more confused. The man hurt her in the most horrendous of ways, so why does she say his name?

  “What’re you doing this weekend, Kronid?” Meghan’s voice pulls me out of my head, and I look at her.

  I clear my throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  She snickers lightly. “I asked what you’re doing this weekend.”

  “I haven’t given it much thought. Trista’s off this weekend, but we haven’t talked about doing anything specific.”

  “I, for one, would kill for a beach weekend!” Trista hollers back from the receptionist’s desk, getting a laugh from both Meghan and me.

  “Seems she likes subtle hints, yeah?” Meghan cracks herself up with her sarcasm and even I crack a few laughs.

  Though, I’m glad she said she wanted a beach weekend. I have some time off and I could grab us a couple plane tickets, take us to the Mediterranean Sea. I think she’d love it. It’s beautiful this time of year too. A few years ago I took a holiday to the Med, and it was amazing. Then again, I spent most of my vacation drunk or fucking other tourists. Now I’m a man in a relationship with a beautiful woman, inside and out. Funny how things change.

  “Oh my God!” Trista screams, and I stop what I’m doing and run to her desk. I glance around like a mad man, but everything is in place.

  “What’s the matter?!”

  “Dema just texted me! She’s in labor! We gotta go. We need to get going!” Trista’s throwing on her jacket, grabbing her purse, like we can just drop our shit and head out.

  I narrow my eyes on her. “Trista, breathe. We need to make sure no one else is in the shop,” I tell her, knowing she’s very excited for her future pseudo niece or nephew to be born. I round the corner of the desk and look back to Meghan and see her chair is empty. “Do you have a client?”

  “No, they left about half an hour ago. I’ve just been disinfecting my station and refilling my colors for tomorrow,” she answers me.

  “Alright, you the only artist here?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Igor left earlier. His last appointment canceled,” Meghan answers.

  “Alright, Dema’s having contractions, so someone is a bit eager to go.” I waggle my eyebrows. It’s not like I need to explain. Meghan understands exactly who I’m talking about.

  Meghan releases a short laugh and nods. “Okay, give me five minutes and we can all leave together. Is that okay?”

  “Sure is. Just meet us up by the front desk when you’re ready,” I tell Meghan as I walk to the receptionist’s desk. I grab my jacket, which Trista has been putting on the back of her office chair. She tends to get a bit cold, so I had a feeling she’d like wearing mine when a chill comes over her. Not gonna lie. It’s fuckin’ hot to see her put my jacket on. Same thing when you fuck a woman and see them in your clothes right after. Hell, makes my cock hard thinking about it.

  “Can we go now?” Trista asks me the moment I round the corner.

  “Give Meghan a couple minutes to get her stuff ready. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  “Do we, Michail? How would you know? Have you ever been in labor?” Well, fuck, she’s getting damn sassy with me right now.

  “They don’t just come flying out like a damn cannonball,” I grumble, letting her be a bit rude. This kid is so important to her. It’s important to me too, but to Trista, this baby will be her entire life, next to Dema, of course.

  “We don’t know how dilated she is, Michail. We need to get going as soon as possible. Okay?”

  I walk up to Trista and put my hands on her shoulders. “I promise you, the second Meghan is ready to leave, we’ll all walk out on the street and leave together. Now, do you have everything ready?”

  Trista’s quick to show me her purse, her keys in her pocket, and the fact she has her jacket on. I should’ve known she’d change like a superhero when she found out Dema was in labor. Scarily fast if you ask me, but then again, she and I have been in a few circumstances where we’ve been able to either rip off clothes or throw them on really quick, like last week in Kronid’s office when he and Dema ran out for lunch and he asked me to go over applications.

  The only thing I was looking over was my woman’s hard nipples and wet pussy. God, she tasted better than ever that day.

  Meghan comes around the corner and smiles at Trista and me. “Okay, I’m ready whenever you guys are.”

  The bell attached to the front door dings, signaling someone’s coming inside and Meghan’s putting her jacket on while they come inside. I don’t see the person, but I look at Trista and as she starts to speak, her eyes widen and she freezes in her place.

  “Trista, I’ve been looking for you.” A man’s voice forces me to look up and I see someone I’ve never seen before.

  My jacket’s being tugged and I look at Trista, who’s whispering a name I haven’t wanted to hear. “Jacob, it’s Jacob.”

  “Get the fuck out of here.” I waste no time telling this fucker how he can get lost. I make sure to walk closer to Meghan, needing Trista to stay near her while I deal with this asshole.

  Jacob smirks, almost like he’s got something up his sleeve, but he doesn’t. I know what he is, and I have no problem telling him. “You’re nothing but a cowardly pig. Get the fuck ou
t of here before I blow your fuckin’ brains out,” I snarl, reaching behind my back to grab my gun until I realize it’s not there.

  Blinking rapidly, I remember I took it off earlier while I was downstairs. Vova and Andrei got into a fight, so I took off my gun to beat the two idiots into some sense. Luckily, it worked, but I failed to have my own sense when I came back upstairs.

  “What’s wrong, tough guy? You not so tough without your gun?” Jacob asks, laughing maniacally as he grows closer to the women and me.

  I look back to Meghan and my look alone is a warning, but I’ll verbalize this shit too. “Keep her away from him, no matter what it takes.” Meghan gives me a nod, showing me she understands exactly what I’m saying.

  Looking back at Jacob, he looks like a real fucking creeper. “She doesn’t want you, get the fuck out of here, or I will make your life a living hell.”

  His smile only grows, which makes me feel like something more’s going on here.

  “The whore doesn’t know what she wants. She’s incapable of having her own thoughts. Didn’t you know? She’s only good for a fuck, when she’s not being a twat.”

  Fuck this, gun or not, I can take him.

  I lunge for the fucker and slam my fist into his mouth. His jaw cracks the second my knuckles hit him, and while he goes back a few steps, he’s quick to come straight at me. I look at his eyes, watching the way he’s trying to see what my next steps are going to be, and the moment he gets close enough to punch, a stinging feeling hits me in the side and I fall straight to the ground.

  “Michail!” Trista screams out my name, her voice showing how terrified she is right now.

  “Get . . . get her out of here!” I holler with a raspy voice, knowing Meghan will do what she needs to.

  Jacob starts to walk in the direction of the women, but I manage to get a hold on the back of his ankle and yank him with all my might, even if my side is screaming at me for making the slightest movement. At the end of the day, I will do whatever I need to protect her, even if it means sacrificing myself.

  Trista is the most important thing in my fucking life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Trista

  Terror at what’s unfolding before my eyes has me frozen in place. Tonight wasn’t supposed to go this way. In fact, it’s supposed to be a joyous occasion. We were just supposed to get ready for the baby coming. Dema texted me a bit ago and said they left to go to the hospital when she’d originally started having contractions. Both Kronid and Dema wanted a very private birth experience, only the two of them in the room when the baby was born. I can respect that, but fuck if I’m not going to be in the waiting room waiting for the baby to come into this world. Even if I have to be in the waiting room the entire time, I’ll do it. At least I was fully prepared to do it until this happened.

  We were getting ready to leave Pins and Needles and lock up when everything I feared would ever happen, happened. Jacob came on the offensive, trying to take me from Michail. The two of them fought and Jacob stabbed Michail in the process.

  How can Michail think I could run, leaving him behind like this? I heard what he said to Meghan, but there’s no way I’m leaving. No fucking way! I can’t just leave him in Jacob’s hands. He’d kill Michail, and fuck, I love him. I can’t leave him behind, and I won’t. I refuse to do so.

  Jacob attempts to come at me again, but Michail, being the strong, determined man that I’ve come to love, refuses to allow that to happen. Even while wounded, he’s protecting me.

  I look around the lobby for something to help Michail. Meghan pulls a small snub-nosed gun from her hobo bag and points it at Jacob’s leg.

  Oh shit.

  I didn’t even know the spunky woman had a gun, let alone knows how to use it, but she should . . . right, if she has one? Then again, I still don’t know much about her, other than her dad was ex-military and moved to Russia when he met Meghan’s mother.

  Without a word or any hesitation, Meghan pulls the trigger without blinking an eye. Fucking hell.

  Jacob screams and loosens his grasp on Michail as he falls to the cement floor. He puts his hands over where Meghan shot him. “You fuckin’ bitch. You shot me. Trista, get the fuck over here now, you whore. You’ve caused enough bullshit, you filthy fuckin’ whore. Wait until we get home. You’ll pay for this,” he screams with all his might.

  I ignore his demands and rush to Michail’s side. He gives me a look of aggravation while I place my hand over his side where he’s bleeding. “Are you okay?” I ask, even though my hand’s being covered with blood. No matter the amount of pressure I’m putting on it, he still continues to bleed. “You’re bleeding badly. We need to get you to the hospital right now. Oh God, what if he hit something important,” I ramble as fear of losing Michail settles in.

  “Trista, I am perfectly fine,” he grumbles, wrapping an arm around my shoulders while glaring daggers at Meghan. “You were supposed to run with Trista when I told you to. Jesus, why don’t you women ever fucking listen?!”

  I open my mouth to argue with him when two men I’ve seen several times since moving here come rushing around the corner of Pins and Needles. I believe their names are Andrei and Vova, if I’m not mistaken. “We heard shots,” one of them says, looking between all of us.

  “No shit,” Meghan mutters in annoyance. “This guy just ruined my night. Can you deal with him? I have places to be.”

  “Bitch,” Jacob snarls, stumbling to his feet.

  Michail barks something in Russian that I don’t understand, but I get the gist of it as Andrei and Vova get to work, beating the ever-loving shit out of Jacob.

  “Meghan, go on and head home. Don’t bring that gun into the shop again. If Kronid knew you carried it with Dema being pregnant, he wouldn’t be pleased,” Michail chastises her.

  “Oh please, Michail. I’m a big girl and know how to use a gun. My papa made sure to teach me a long-time ago. Now, how about instead of having both Andrei and Vova taking the scumbag to wherever the hell you’re talking about, you get one of them to drive you to the hospital before Trista flips out. But before we dive into that shit, you can’t tell me none of you carry, so suck my dick. You won’t take away my right, and I won’t take away yours,” Meghan snaps.

  “I can drive myself there,” Michail sneers. “It’s where we’re going anyway. Vova, make sure Meghan gets home safely.” With his command, he leads me away from everyone and to his waiting car.

  “Do you want me to drive?” I ask apprehensively. I haven’t driven since being here. I’ve either walked or took other forms of transportation.

  “Kukukla, I can drive. This is nothing. I’ve had cat scratches worse than this,” Michail grinds out angrily but touches my hand in tenderness before starting the car.

  I don’t say a word as he drives us to the hospital. I’m sure I could’ve put up more of a fight about him driving while hurt, but for some reason, I didn’t. Maybe because I saw the determination in his eyes. He was going to take himself there without help, regardless of whatever I said. He’s stubborn like that.

  Now I’m thinking about it. He better not think I’ll be leaving him for a second when we get to the hospital. I know he’s so determined to do things alone, but not this. I need to be by his side the entire time because the fear is going to rip through me and I know it.

  It seems like time goes at a snail’s pace until we get to the hospital. I walk into the emergency department with Michail and they whisk him off to the back. The nurses tried to keep me in the waiting room, but it wasn’t happening.

  I threw a fit and Michail snarled at the one nurse who said she’d call security to escort me out if I didn’t calm down. He made it very clear I was staying with him and that was that. He even named drop Katya and the woman instantly calmed down. She must be some sort of sponsor here.

  Michail lays on the gurney and removes his shirt as instructed. I move to stand near his head. A nurse comes in and starts cleaning him up while she curls her lip.
r />   Well, screw you, too, then. Michail might not’ve claimed me officially or made any attempts of some form of commitment, for that matter. Even though it’s true, I sense I could have some sort of commitment with him. It doesn’t have to be marriage or anything else of the sort. As long as I know his heart belongs to me, I’d be thrilled. It’s all I need.

  By the time the doctor stitches Michail’s side, my own stomach tightens up and feels very uneasy. He should never have been hurt in the first place and because he is, I’ve never felt a pang of guilt like this. Everything that happened tonight is nobody’s fault but my own.

  Sitting up from the gurney fully patched up and ready to go, Michail looks at me. The nurse who assisted the doctor in stitching him up left us a few moments ago to get a scrub top for him to put on.

  “Ready to go?” he asks cautiously.

  I bite my lower lip nervously and nod without a word.

  Michail furrows his brow, reaches for me, and takes my hand to pull me closer to him. “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head, on the verge of tears.

  My emotions are all over the place and I need to stop.

  I’ve known Michail for about eight months now and the fact he could’ve died tonight guts me. This was too close, too close to possibly losing him.

  “Kukukla, talk to me,” he demands.

  “It’s my fault,” I whisper hesitantly.

  “What’s your fault?”

  “This.” I nod to his side and a tear slips down my cheek. “You were hurt because of me.”

  “Trista, don’t. You didn’t do anything. Don’t take on guilt that doesn’t belong on your shoulders,” he murmurs, pulling me against his chest. He presses his lips to mine, kissing me senseless.

 

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