Her Russian Knight by Red Phoenix is available now!

“Stay, Finn…please,” she mutters, her fat lip wobbling. She’s killing me.

“I can’t, Hope” I shake my head and the heaviness in my heart, the sadness I feel is a fraction of the sorrow I have endured and she knows this. “I wasted ten years of my life with a man who had no intention of marrying me H, and he even took delight in humiliating me about that fact in front of all my friends. He made me feel utterly worthless and now...” I stutter and draw in a fortifying breath, “I have these men and one of them promised to marry me. I get to choose…me, I—” I clamp my mouth shut at my apocalyptic fuck-up.

“Men?” she snaps.

“Man, I meant man.” I wave my hand to dismiss my seemingly silly mistake,

“You said men,” Hope corrects and then gasps. “Finn you didn’t answer that advert?” Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes like saucers and we both suck in a shocked breath.

“I…I…—” I can’t construct a sentence. She steps up to me and interrupts so I don’t have to. I wish she didn’t.

“That’s who you’ve been talking to so secretively these last three months every spare minute. That’s what all this gym shit you’ve been dragging me to morning, noon, and night for the last three months has been all about. It’s because you need to be fit enough to take on four guys?” She stares at me and her mouth is open so wide it’s comical, but I’m not laughing. I’m waiting for the scream, the howl of judgement to rain down on my slutty arse. I draw in a breath and brace.

“Yes.” I tip my chin and time comes to a halt…and continues to halt I frown at my friend, the statue. Her wide emerald eyes are fixed and focused, though I’m not sure on what. I wave my hand in from of her face but she doesn’t flinch. Is it possible to be catatonic standing up?

“Hope? Are you okay? You’re kind of freaking me out.” I look around to see if anyone else is observing my friend’s weird behaviour, but no one is paying us any attention. Well, other than the parking officer who is scowling between Dolly and the No Waiting sign. “Hope!” I hiss a little loud, and she blinks and gives a full body shudder, regaining her senses.

“Four guys?” she asks with a degree of aw in her tone.

I hesitate but answer.

“Yes.”

“At one time?” She arches a brow and her lips begin to curl into a wicked smirk.

“Not necessarily. We haven’t actually gone over the logistics,” I reply, a little straight-laced given the topic, but we’re hardly in a secret-sharing environment.

“But they wanted a twenty year old?”

Her incredulous face pisses me off and I place my hands on my hips and tip my chin, my tone is a little on the defensive side.

“Well, they got a mid-to-late twenty-year-old, that has worked her arse to knock the last several years off her clock…literally.” I straighten my back and subtly tighten my tummy in lieu of drawing in an obvious slimming breath.

“Oh babe, you do. You look smoking hot don’t worry about that.” She pats my arms and flashes her best friend reassuring smile. “No. You need to worry more about the fact that you don’t have enough holes, because babe, that’s something you can’t fix at the gym.” She bites her lip to hold in her trademark filthy laugh, but I crack first and she’s quick to follow. She throws back her head, full on belly aching, dirty laughter falling from her lips, eyes streaming, shaking her head. “Oh my God, you’re going to be kept busy around the cock.” She doubles over at her own joke and waves me down because I think she has another. “They’re in the Forces right? They’re going to want everything to run like cockwork.”

“Okaaaay then, are we finished?” I pat her back as she attempts to regain her composure.

“Sorry. So sorry…too tempting, but you’re right, you have a flight to catch…the cock is ticking. No time to be dicking around now.” She snorts out another laugh.

“Hope.” I sigh.

“Look, Finn. I still think you’re batshit insane, but if you have to go crazy at least you’ll have lots of nuts to keep you company.” She pulls me in for a final hug, but I can see she’s genuinely smiling, and her face is a little wet from her tears, but her expression doesn’t hold any anxiousness or tension. There’s a little worry, but that’s understandable. Maybe I should’ve told her sooner. “I just want you to promise to do one thing for me.” She clears her throat and her tone is soft but serious.

“What’s that?” I ask and wait with bated breath for her to tell me what she’ll need from me to ease her mind, and if it’s anything within my power. She hesitates a moment before her shoulders start to shake.

“Pictures…I want lots of pictures.” She snickers some more.

“I’m gone. I’ll call you when I land.” I turn on my heel and start to push the half-tonne trolley away from my best, but annoying friend.

“With pictures!” she calls after me.

“Sure, with pictures.” I turn my back to the trolley, so I’m facing her but pushing the beast up the ramp, away from the cars.

“You go, girl. Take one for the team! Oh wait, no. Take four with the team!” she shouts over the entire departures drop-off area, with the volume of a crowd control foghorn.

The taste of copper coats my tongue as a ringing echoes in my ears. My head throbs from the blow administered after the dacker flailed his body backward, slamming me against the wall. I almost lose my grip on the now sweat-slicked chain, but I refuse to let go. He bucks a second time, forcing my head to fly back and collide with the barrier again. Though I’m wedged between him and the cold, gritty wall, I can tell that he’s on his last few breaths of life.

His fingers frantically claw at the metal that’s wrapped around his neck as his body becomes stiffer with each passing second. Faint gurgling sounds escape his open mouth as he desperately tries to suck in air. His body starts to slump, but my tired muscles flex harder, coaxing his fate to settle in more quickly. After about ten more seconds, his fat, greasy body collapses to the floor.

Positioning my right, bare foot in the middle of his back, I yank even harder on the chain. When the coloration on his face starts to change, I finally begin to slacken the reins. My arms shake violently from how long my muscles have been tense.

While I wait for the others to return, I sit on the edge of the bed with my back against the headboard as my knees are curled up to my chest. I’m unable to cry because that’s what I’ve done the majority of the time for the past few days since they captured me.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but some time later, two guards from earlier come barging into the room which is locked from the outside. They shout profanities and some other words I can’t make out, obviously commenting on the scene displayed before them. It’s not that I can’t understand them; they’re speaking Jaruian. It’s that my brain doesn’t focus on any single word as they bounce around in my head like a set of drums.

One of them comes close to me. His arms whipping around in the air as more unheard words escape from his rank hole. I don’t bother to look at him and continue to stare at the man I just killed. I’ve never taken a life before and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Mixed emotions run through me, but regret is not one of them. It was either him or me, and I chose him. The asshole paid money, I’m not sure how much, to have his way with me for a few hours.

My head flying to the left is paired with a sharp stinging grabs my attention. I don’t whimper. I don’t cry. Everything that has happened to me the past few days feels even more surreal now.

“The boss will hear about this, bitch,” one of the voices threatens.

I guess his slap brought me back to reality, allowing me to finally comprehend their words. My eyes lift to find his. I stare him down, hoping that he sees the anger and hatred in my gaze. He inches his face closer to mine, but I don’t budge.

“Let her be,” the other one states.

“What for?” he questions. “She dacking killed him.”

“The dacker had it coming,” the other says. “Boss didn't like him that much. He always marked up the girls bad enough where they’d be out of commission for a few days. He was costin’ us money.”

“Whatever,” he huffs, turning away from me. “Help me get him out of here.”

I’m left inside the room without another word. The only sounds that are distinguishable are the door lock being switched into place, the faint percussion of music seeping in through the walls, and my heart pounding in my chest.

The small, makeshift bedroom with a bathroom, that is missing a door, still wreaks of that bastard’s body odor, causing me to dry heave a little. I’m not sure if I’m above or below ground since there isn’t a window in my tiny domicile.

I was knocked out right after they grabbed and bagged me just a few blocks from my home. When I woke up, I had a massive headache that could have been from either being hit over the head or drugged—perhaps both. Sensations of being fondled during my transportation fade in and out each time I dream or am touched by anyone, especially men.

Not long after I arrived, they had a group of women clean me up. My clothes were removed and they bathed me in a large, cement bath that was embedded in the middle of the floor of the room. I timidly kept my body covered as much as I could as they washed and rewashed my body to get rid of all of the dirt and stains. My hair was washed twice before they ushered me to another area. The women hand dried my body with small hand towels and then had me lay down on a leather-bound table where they then proceeded to wax my legs, underarms and genital region. My hair was trimmed next and styled before I was given a thin, skimpy dress to wear without a bra or panties. The women chatted quietly on occasion as they tended to me and most offered me an apologetic smile when we made eye contact.

Once I was ready, the ladies knocked on the door I originally entered. Two guards reached forward, grabbing my upper arms forcefully and escorted me away. They flanked me on either side as we followed one in front of us with one more trailing behind. I was then led to the room where I currently reside and given some food. They gave me just enough to take me away from the edge of hunger, but not enough to fully nourish me.

Two meals came each day with a small snack in between them. The food wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t good either. They gave me some juice a couple of times, but mostly water. If I needed more to drink, I was left drinking from the questionable sink in the bathroom with the use of my hands. Utensils were never given with my food, even if the option was not finger-food.

Yesterday, I was inspected by a male doctor while two other women were in the room. None of them said anything other than the doctor directing me to stand or move as he checked my body. He was very thorough and took a lot of notes.

Each night I’ve slept, it hasn’t been much. I wake to every little noise, worried that an unwelcomed intruder will arrive. I wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted from me, what they had planned, but I had a pretty good guess and it was confirmed when they let that bastard into my room tonight.

A familiar sound draws me from my thoughts and I stare at the closed door, hoping that I was only imagining it. The wooden door creaks open and three men walk into the room. My throat dries and my palms begin to sweat, nervous by their blank expressions. I recognize the two from before, but not the third. I silently pray to the Gods, if they even exist, that he’s not the next customer in line.

“What is your name?” the unfamiliar man asks.

My body trembles with fear as I can’t find the ability to answer him; nor do I want to.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says softly after a few more seconds of waiting for me to respond. He shifts closer and sits on the foot of the bed.

I watch him carefully, concerned with what he may do to me.

His eyes drift down to the spot on the ground where my victim previously laid. “Is that where it happened?” he asks, gesturing in front of him. “Is that where you killed him?”

I don’t follow his hand as I try to gauge his tone and expression. He almost seems amused rather than pissed at the fact that I killed the man.

His eyes lift to my face and his eyebrows raise a little.

I nod.

His gaze drifts down my body and back up. “Where did the chain come from?”

“He brought it in with him, sir,” one of the goons states. From the sound of his voice, it’s the dacker who hit me.

“Who let him bring in his own toys?” the man, who seems to be in charge, asks sharply.

They both remain quiet.

The one in charge slides closer and reaches forward toward me. I flinch, but it doesn’t seem to surprise him. He waits a few seconds before taking my chin. My gaze returns to him. The look in his eye tells me that he doesn’t intend to hurt me. His large, rough hand gently guides my head to turn a few inches to the left and then right. “Which one of you struck her?” he questions a little more calmly.

“Breaker, sir,” the one who didn’t hit me states.

“Quiet,” Breaker seethes through his teeth.

“Leave us,” the man directs.

“Sir?” the one called Breaker questions.

The man in charge shoots to a standing position and without another word, the two guards comply. Once the door is closed behind them, he turns back around and faces me. “I’m not a fan of my good paying clientele being killed,” he states calmly.

I don’t comment, fairly confident that he’ll do something to me regardless if I do speak and doesn’t care what my response would be.

“Do you know who I am?” he inquires.

My head bobs slightly, confident that I know his name; Jagger.

He takes a step forward and studies me for a moment. “You did do me a bit of a favor, though,” he states eerily. “He was costing me some money…more than what he was paying now that I think about it.”

I squeeze my hands together more, nervous about how this can play out.

“But, I still can’t have my clients being killed when they pay to have their way with you.” He pauses for a few seconds. “Though…it was his own fault for bringing in the chain.”

Staring at him, I’m not sure what he expects me to do. I will fight to the death to protect myself.

“I’m guessing you aren’t sorry,” he assumes. “And, why should you be. He would have broken you…physically…but, I’m not so sure that he would have broken your spirit.” He takes two steps forward and places his left hand under his chin as he supports one arm with the other. “And, I’m guessing that you’d put up another fight if I sent another client in here, wouldn’t you?”

I don’t comment, but I’m sure he can read my thoughts when he looks into my eyes.

After a few moments of silence, he says, “However…I think I just might have an idea that would work for the both of us.”

Sometimes I surprise myself at some spur of the moment. I realized I may have bitten off more than I could chew, but I'm always up for a challenge anyway.

This book, Knight Takes Pawn, made me think long and hard. I think I trying to place the story, but really, I couldn't. The setting is in some planet, and the economy is in depression. The economy is in a severe depression that supply is scarce with demand on high but the resources are just recovering or on the level of just producing enough because facilities were either destroyed or if it survived, it sustained heavy losses and requires maintenance more often in which production is suffering because of the increased downtime. That's how I see it, anyway.

Lol. I know! I think I wanted to discern the state of economy, probably be given more facts about it. Other some changes that are mentioned before diving into the book, there's nothing really weird or anything that stands out for me to feel like I'm in another dimension. Probably the same on how society looks on women in general: weak, dumb and as a sex object.

Natalie, aka Red, was abducted and had become a a sex slave. But on the first night on which she would be used, she did something so different and extraordinary in my perspective that caught Jagger's attention, the tyrant that is ruling the Sovereign different from where she came from.

And then Knight became part of Jagger's inner group and that's where everything started to happen differently, like maybe a shift on what is going to be in the future.

I admit, I didn't like the start of the story. The pacing was just too fast for my liking and I couldn't peg Red's character. I also hate the change of some words because I mean it would be okay if sentences that are exchange are spoken in a language rather than just snippets of words to remind me that the setting is set in a different planet. So I decided to curse on a different language just I could take the edge off. Packing tape. Inamo ya! Yu di putik kag. Yeah, ahd to let that out.

Anyway, Knight did have piqued my interest. He's mysterious and dangerous and there's a secret hidden in every words that leaves his lips. Although he's kind of a fucking pussy, daw putayan kag, because I really did want for him to make through with his words.

I almost gave up. But things have turned differently. I enjoy Jagger's crazy and him being unpredictable. I get snippets of how that world works and what challenges Knight and some of the crew did or was facing.

I would have just rated this book 3 stars but it ended up with me smiling. And feeling that rush that happens when I am being satisfied. Red did totally something unexpected and because of that, she's good in my book.

This book feels like I was playing chess. There's a whole bigger picture than what is happening and what you're reading. I have to think of strategies and when the pawn is moved, it was either to be sacrificed or become someone stronger given the power. This is my first of Martha Sweeney and definitely wouldn't be the last. I admire the intellegence that is put in this book that left me satisfied and wanting for more.