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

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