Blood & Torment (Pins and Needles: Moscow Book 2) by Elizabeth Knox (10 best books of all time txt) 📗

boy, I witnessed far too much abuse, mostly at my father’s hand. I watched him bloody and bruise my mother, if the man was even my real father to begin with. She would tell me to run and hide, and I’d always listen. I’d do as my mother said and hide. When I was young, I didn’t understand it, but as I grew up, I thought I knew what was wrong. In my head, it made sense, but now I know better.

I blamed my mother.

I pinned all the fault on her, but I didn’t have a clue what was really going on. I didn’t know about narcissists or how they’ll make their partners feel like absolute shit. I didn’t know about the mental games they’d play with other people or how eventually they’d want more than to only hurt you in an emotional manner. How their hunger for pain would mean they’d want to harm you physically.

When she died, everything came around full circle. I knew at that time I needed to take Mila and get far away from our small town in Russia. I didn’t want the same fate to befall her, and if she stayed, it would’ve happened. Unlike our mother, I wanted Mila to get an education, to be well-grounded, to become something. Even if I had to pay for every bit of it. I know what life in Russia can be like for some women, and the last thing I ever wanted was for Mila to become a statistic.

So, as I sit here on the edge of Trista’s bed processing what she’s just told me, I try to remember the woman that raised me. How it wasn’t her fault, and what I would’ve done for her if I had another chance. It’s the same thing I’ll do for Trista. I’ll torture, shed blood, and kill anyone who dares to ever want to cause her harm.

Balling my fists, I watch the tears slip down her cheeks as she tells me everything, and for a few minutes after she’s finished, I sit here silently. There’s so much I want to say, but know I’ll fuck it up. All I can do is stand and wrap my arms around her small frame, holding her close to me. I never admitted the circumstances surrounding my mother’s death, but there isn’t a better time than right now. “I won’t let him near you, ever again. This is a promise I make to you . . . I am very serious about it. My mother died at the hands of a man like your ex, and I wasn’t able to help her, but I’m able to help you.” I release my grip a tad and take a step back, staring into the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen.

Tears threaten to fall, but I won’t let them. I look into those same eyes and make another promise. “No one should ever be in a relationship like you were, and I will never treat you in such a way. I will cherish you like a queen,” I speak every word with the utmost seriousness. While I’ve never been a man of many words, Trista makes me want to speak up. She gives me the urge to know she understands my intentions.

“I thought I deserved it all,” Trista admits, glancing down at the floor like she always does when she feels ashamed.

I grab her chin between my thumb and finger, forcing her to look at me. “No one deserves to be treated as if they don’t matter. Not anyone.”

She scoffs and inhales deeply through her nose. I release her chin and run my hand over her hair in a soothing way. “I hope you’re hearing what I’m saying, Trista. You’re a beautiful woman with a damn good heart. You didn’t deserve it, even if he made you think you did.”

Men like that always tell the women it’s their fault, and it isn’t. It was never their fault. They just blame the women because they’re pathetic. Any man who tells them this is nothing more than a pathetic waste of space.

Trista sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and the tears come spilling out. I wrap my arm around her and pull her against my chest. “Ssssh, all is okay. You are safe. You are safe,” I repeat these affirmations against the top of her head. I’ll say them however long I need to until she genuinely feels she’s safe.

Whenever I get the chance, I will gut this man like the fish he is and anyone like him.

Chapter Fourteen

Trista

Through the past several weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time with Michail. He stayed with me at my apartment every single night and even joined me over at Sascha and Ruslan’s for dinner on multiple occasions. To this day, it still feels like things are going fast, but I’m not complaining. Neither are my friends. Sascha and Ruslan both agree Michail is a great fit for me.

Ruslan even pulled me to the side the first time Michail came with me to their place.

“Are you sure this is something you want?” he asks in what I’m calling his stern big brother voice.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m nervous, but for once, I don’t have the slightest doubt filling my head.” I don’t even hold back the smile that beams across my face. Naturally, it helps Ruslan understand I’m perfectly happy.

I ended up confiding in both him and Sascha about what happened the night of the break-in. To say he and Sascha grew even more worried is a drastic understatement. Ruslan and Michail had a conversation about upgrading my security system and ultimately agreed that until Jacob is found, I shouldn’t be left alone.

Hence why I’ve ridden with him to Pins and Needles every day since we’ve started this, what we have between us. I don’t want to call him my boyfriend, ‘cause I don’t want to jinx our connection and how well we’ve been doing, but I’d be