63

Chapter 14
Misha
The words will never leave my mouth, but fuck did I enjoy the training session.
I’m a fucking bastard because having Aurora weak beneath me was one hell of a turn-on. Christ, her eyes sparkled with anger, and her feistiness only made the blood in my veins burn hotter.
I adjust the hard-on in my cargo pants as I walk to Instructor Volkov’s class.
Time for torture.
When I enter the room, I take a seat next to Alek and Armani. Armani glances at me. “Glad to see you survived training.”
“Dude, lose the bulge,” Alek mutters. “We’re close, but I don’t need to see the outline of your dick.”
“Fuck off.” I adjust my cock again, but it doesn’t help.
Go down, fucker.
Instructor Volkov comes into the room. “Are you all ready to scream like girls?”
“Bring it,” Alek taunts him.
“Shut up,” Armani hisses under his breath.
“I’m glad you’re so eager, Mr. Aslanhov,” Instructor Volkov chuckles. “You’re up first.” He points at Kazuo, who’s sporting a black eye from yesterday’s fight. “Join us, Mr. Jirocho.”
When Instructor Volkov removes a box of sewing needles from his desk drawer, I feel relieved.
Out of all the torture methods, at least this one doesn’t remove body parts.
“Left hands only.” Instructor Volkov smirks. “After all, you still have other training, and I can’t have you completely incapacitated.”
“Lucky us,” Armani mutters.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Alek asks while he looks way too eager to get started.
“Sure,” Instructor Volkov agrees.
Kazuo wins with paper wrapping over rock, and he takes a needle from the box. Alek’s wrist is strapped to the table while his right arm is restrained to the chair.
Instructor Volkov holds a piece of wood out to him. “Do you need to bite on this?”
“I’m good,” Alek grins.
I shake my head, already knowing how this is going to go. Alek can handle a fuck-ton of pain.
Kazuo slowly pushes the needle beneath Alek’s pinky nail, and I watch as my best friend raises his eyebrows at the yakuza soldier.
“Remove the nail,” Instructor Volkov orders.
Blyadʹ.
Alek keeps his eyes trained on Kazuo as the man takes the pliers from Instructor Volkov.
“All you have to do to make it stop is say yield,” Instructor Volkov adds right before Kazuo starts tearing Alek’s nail off.
I force myself to watch because Alek will know the moment I look away, and that will piss him off.
Honestly, I’ve seen worse, and I’m proud of Alek when he doesn’t show any reaction.
When the nail is torn off and blood trickles onto the table, Alek mutters, “You have to do better than that if you expect your enemy to spill their secrets.” Then he grins at Kazuo. “My turn.”
“Wrap that shit up. I don’t want you bleeding all over my classroom,” Instructor Volkov says as he tosses a bandage to Alek.
After Alek takes care of his finger, the men swap places, and Alek looks sadistic as fuck as he starts to push the needle into the bed of Kazuo’s nail. Halfway he stops and wiggles the sharp point, slowly tearing the nail from the flesh.
A drop of sweat trickles down Kazuo’s temple, but he clenches his jaw to steel himself.
Alek manages to get four grunts from the yakuza soldier, and when it’s time for him to tear the nail off, Kazuo reluctantly growls, “Yield.”
“Aww,” Alek complains. “You just had to ruin my fun.” “Mr. Petrov and Mr. Kodra, you’re up next.”
I take a seat and watch as the blood is wiped from the table. When my wrist is strapped down, I suck in a deep breath of air and exhale slowly.
As Marsela reaches for a needle, I go to my safe place so the pain won’t be as bad.
It’s our first Christmas with the Aslanhovs. I’m holding Tiana’s hand, and as we go down the stairs, the twinkling tree comes into view. There are so many gifts, they fill most of the space around the base of the tree.
Marsela forces the sharp tip of the needle into the bed of my nail.
Tiana’s face lights up with happiness.
I focus on the mental image I have of my sister.
It was the first time I saw her happy, and one of my most treasured memories.
The pain increases, and I recall the sound of her laughter when Mrs. Aslanhov taught her how to bake cookies. Tiana burned them all but ate one and told her it was the best thing I had ever tasted.
“Pull the nail,” Instructor Volkov orders.
‘Misha,’ Tiana whispers. ‘Yes.’
She’s snuggled against my side, still too afraid to sleep alone. ‘Do you think they’ll keep us?’
Honestly, I’m not sure.
‘Even if they don’t, you’ll always have me,’ I say, unable to lie to my baby sister.
‘What if we’re separated?’ she asks, her voice small and vulnerable. I wrap my arm tighter around her. ‘It will never happen.’
‘But what if,’ she insists.
‘Then I’ll find you and steal you back.’ ‘Promise, Misha.’
‘I promise, Tiana.’
‘I love you more than all the gifts I got today.’
My heart clenches at her words because I know how much those gifts meant to her.
‘I love you more.’
Suddenly the pain increases dramatically, and the memory morphs into something unexpected.
‘I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.’
My little deer lets out a weak chuckle. ‘Sounds… like a deal.’
Her bright emerald eyes stare up at me as she admits, ‘You would’ve been my first kiss.’ Scrunching her nose, she corrects herself, ‘Well, we did kiss. Kind of.’
‘Why didn’t you stop me?’ ‘Because I wanted it to be you.’
‘Do you still want the kiss?’ I ask, hoping she says yes.
Her voice is soft as she says, ‘Please. If I’m going to die, I at least want one decent kiss.’
I shake my head, my voice filled with determination as I say, ‘You won’t die. Not like this.’
Lowering my head, I claim her lips, and I kiss her like I’ve never kissed anyone.
When I reluctantly end the kiss, tears shine in her eyes. ‘Thank you, mio principe.’
“Misha!” Instructor Volkov snaps as he nudges my shoulder.
I shake my head as I come out of my safe place and inhale deeply as the pain sets in from where my nail is torn off.
Christ. It’s the first time that’s happened. How the hell can a memory of Aurora be stronger than that of my sister?
Instructor Volkov has pride shining from his eyes while he looks at me. “Now that’s how it’s done. If they can’t touch you, they can’t do shit to make you talk.”
“Your turn, Mr. Kodra,” Instructor Volkov says as he hands me a bandage.
I’m still reeling from what happened, that the memory of kissing Aurora took me so deep into my subconsciousness I felt nothing. Usually, I still feel something. Thinking of Tiana just makes it bearable.
But Aurora completely eliminated the pain.
What. The. Fucking. Fuck?
I have to force my attention on the matter at hand, and picking a needle from the box, I lock eyes with the Albanian sex trafficker.
Think of the three people he raped and had his people kidnapped. It could’ve been Tiana.
It could have been Aurora.
Marsela’s dark eyes are empty as he stares back at me.
Gripping hold of his pinky, I position the needle beneath his nail. The fucking thing is long and yellow, making me look forward to peeling it off.
As slowly as possible, I push the needle into his skin, watching as the sharp point forces the nail to tear. My eyes flick back to Marsela’s, and I notice as he clenches his jaw, his lips thinning.
When I push deeper, he tries to pull his hand back, but the strap keeps it in place.
I let my hatred for him show as I growl, “Where are the three people you raped and kidnapped?”
“Fuck –” I push the needle deeper, and he pauses to clench his jaw, then he hisses, “Fuck you.”
The needle tears deeper, then I pause so the pain can register. “Where are they?”
This time he remains silent as sweat beads on his forehead.
“You only have two years left. The moment you set foot off St.
Monarch’s ground, I’ll be waiting,” I taunt him.
The needle’s halfway, and the man is sweating like he ran a marathon.
“I’d like to try the rats on you. I feel it will be a fitting death.” I push the sharp end until it’s touching the white of his nailbed. “Imagine rats tearing through your skin, eating their way through your stomach, clawing through your spine…” I push it all the way. “Pouring from your back as your body convulses from the shock of being eaten alive.”
Marsela tries to pull away again, and as the point of the needle breaks through the skin behind his nail, he cries like a fucking girl.
“Kiska,” I mutter the word pussy in Russian as I yank the needle out. “Take the nail,” Instructor Volkov instructs. “Make him talk.”
I drop the needle on the table and pick up the pliers. Giving Marsela a smug smile, I say, “Last chance. Where are the three people your group kidnapped?”
Marsela shakes his head hard, and sucking in harsh breaths of air, he tries to steal himself as I grip hold of the yellow nail. Using the pliers, I wiggle the nail, taking my sweet fucking time.
“Where are they?”
Marsela’s body strains, his fingers locking in place as I start to pull.
“Where are they?” I keep repeating, knowing the question is wearing him down.
As the nail starts to tear loose, he screams, “Dead! They’re fucking dead.”
I stop pulling at his nail, and frowning, I ask, “Why? Unless you deal in necrophilia, I can’t imagine what you’d do with three dead bodies.”
Marsela glares at me with absolute rage as he growls, “They were used for hunting.”
My eyebrow lifts. “Oh. That’s new.” Nodding, I proceed to tear his nail off at a fucking snail’s pace.
He grunts a couple of times, spittle flying from his mouth, then it turns into an agonizing groan right before he shouts, “Yield!”
Ignoring him, I rip the nail completely off, then grinning, I say, “Oops.
Didn’t hear you in time.”
Just because I can, I bring a fist down on his pinky, ripping a cry from him.
Leaning closer, my voice is low and deadly as I growl, “Two years from now, you and I have a date with a bucket of rats and a blowtorch.”
I get up from the chair and walking to Alek and Armani, I see the pride in their eyes.
When I take my seat next to Alek, he nudges his shoulder against mine. “Show off.”