Chapter 11 Phoenyxx
Phoenyxx
I can’t help grinning like a lunatic as I almost skip my way down the hall.
It’s official—big-time kink fully unlocked. Fucking Frost and those liquid hips, God. That man is sin on a stick.
I'm so lost to the lust I barrel right into someone. “Shit, sorry.”
I look up to find my Golden-Eyed Boy smiling at me. He looks at me intently then grunts out, “It’s okay.”
Whoa. God, his voice is soft yet strong, the tone giving me chills.
“3, amazing job! Are you practicing speaking?”
He nods, standing taller. He’s proud of himself. That makes me so happy.
“Do you want me to practice with you?” I ask.
“Yes.” He nods once, taking my hand. He leads me back to our shared room.
I must admit, I’ve grown to love snuggling up to him every night. His presence comforts me. He helps chase away the nightmares.
We get inside, and I kick off my shoes, moving to the chair in our room and getting comfortable. 3 takes a seat on the sofa close to me.
“How about you try to tell me what you’ve been working on. We'll go from there.”
3 furrows his brow in concentration. His jaw works as he attempts to push the words out.
“Phoe... Phoenyxx. I-I lo... love you.”
I clap my hands in excitement. “I love you right back, 3!” I really hate having to call him 3. “Do you remember anything about who you are? A name?”
He stamps his foot, clearly frustrated at the repeat question.
“I get it—I do. I didn’t know my own name until we got here. I was raised by those awful Solomons...”
Before I can finish my sentence, he turns ghostly white.
“Sol...” he tries, but slams his mouth shut.
“Do you recognize that name?”
“First. Names.” he grits out.
“Betty and Matthew.” I frown, wondering why he’s asking.
“Betty?” 3 stands suddenly, upending the coffee table in front of him. Glass from the tabletop crashes to the floor, making me flinch back.
A parade of running feet sound on the tiled floor in the hallway, and my door crashes open.
“What the fuck was that?” a red-faced Purge shouts.
“We heard it in the computer lab, man!” Thor follows up.
“It’s okay—calm the hell down. 3 recognized Betty Solomon’s name and reacted strongly. I’m fine.”
Purge’s head whips towards 3. “Is that right?”
3 stares daggers at him. “Yes.”
Purge’s eyes widen. “You can speak now?”
3 nods once.
“But how do you know the name?” I ask, brows knitted in confusion.
3 shrugs. “Heard it. Masks said.”
“I don’t get it. How are they connected?”
3 starts to answer but starts shaking his head frantically. I can tell he can’t get the words out.
“Thor, can you hand 3 the notebook and pen on the table?” I ask.
“Sure thing.” Thor snatches them up, handing them over to 3.
3 flips it open, writing quickly. After a full minute, he shows me the page. My brows shoot up.
“Um… he says that the masks talked about her. Many times. They would reference something that ties them together.” I pause, chewing this over in my mind. “Did they ever hint at what it might be?” I ask 3.
He starts scribbling again.
“…He says there’s some kind of connection, he thinks. They would threaten him with the name when he was out of control,” I read, brows furrowed. “What the fuck?” The actual fuck is this about? “Purge—”
“Five steps ahead of you, Iskra. Thor, let's track this shit down. If the masked fuckers talked so openly about it, there must be something in the Solomons’ files.”
“Yep, bro, agreed. Avengers—assemble!” Thor throws a fist in the air.
I’m confused when Purge bursts out laughing.
“It’s a superhero movie, Iskra.”
“Alrighty then.” I toss up my hands in exasperation.
Maybe I’ll be caught up on popular culture at some point.
Purge
I’m still snickering at Thor’s Avengers comment as we walk back into the lab.
Bill is still in there, as usual.
“Do you ever leave?” I ask him.
Without turning around, he flips me the bird. I laugh again.
“Dude, you should’ve gone with Banner. I mean...”
“Oh my God.” Thor dies laughing, tears rolling down his face. “Bro, dude—you'd be Loki, and Harris would be Tony Stark.”
I laugh harder, shaking my head to clear it. “We need to focus. Bill, 3 told us there’s a connection between him and the Solomons. We need to find out what.”
Bill lets out a deep sigh. “Fine.”
I jump on the computer next to Thor, admiring it a bit. It's top of the line. Thin, sleek, and powerful. I don’t recall hearing of the brand before. There's a separate tower below me, and a gamer-style wireless keyboard and a gaming mouse.
I click to wake the screen, and the graphics are incredible. I head to the Tor browser first that masks your IP so you can access the dark web, shocked at how lightning-fast it is.
“Damn, this is a nice machine,” I say in admiration.
Thor hums in agreement.
I punch in the Solomons’ names, along with The Retreat’s information. I pull up a secondary program to reroute the IP even more, and to bypass the restrictions Tor has—even though it’s a dark web browser. It's a popular one, so it’s not as unsecure as it used to be.
I drum my fingertips while the program runs. When the screen lights up; my jaw drops.
There's a photo of Betty and Matthew shaking hands with the Director... and my father. It looks like some kind of banquet, or function.
“Thor, look at this.” I nudge him in the ribs.
“Oh my Hawkeye!” he exclaims, eyes wide like saucers. “Did you know about this?”
“Hell no. I had no clue they even knew each other.” I squint at the screen, zooming in on the background. “They look much younger here. Their clothes look like they’re from the early 90s? This must be before I was even born.”
Bill calls out from his corner, “Betty had a pregnancy in 1999. The other information from her medical files was redacted, but listen to this. She had a live birth. There's no birth certificate, but the files show a date. February 15, 1999. How old is the mute?”
“I’m not sure, but this... fuck. Why the hell is it so deeply hidden?” Frustration mounts with each discovery.
I start muttering, digging around some more. I get into the same files, and holy fuck. Matthew isn’t the father. He can’t be. The father line states “Unknown”. So, who’s the kid’s sperm donor?
I get a sneaky suspicion after seeing that photo.
Changing track, I hack into my father’s records. I normally hit a brick wall once I try to get past the basic shit I can see, so I'm hoping this time I’ll be successful.
“Guys, can you help me break through my father’s firewalls? I need to see the records he keeps hidden.”
They both say “Yep”, so I settle in. This will take some time.
Hunter
I look at my sister, the enigma.
We're in our room. She's doodling on a piece of paper while I watch her.
I’m shocked she’s here with me. That she’s even alive. I’m grateful, but am so enraged over her being in that godforsaken place I can’t see straight.
Cynthia looks up suddenly, confusion on her face. “Hunter? I want to remember. Can you help me?”
I blow out a breath. She seems to be lucid right now, so I might as well try. We need to know.
“Okay, sis. You were taken when you were six. We were both playing outside. A car pulled up, and they took you—”
Cynthia’s eyes suddenly clear with clarity. “Wait... our dad. The masks told me my dad was a sellout asshole, that he was paid to make me disappear.”
“Yes, that’s true. Try to concentrate. Remember our yard, the house? We were laughing together.”
Cynthia’s eyes widen as my words sink in. “Oh my God. I was wearing jeans and a jacket, right? Those men—they tossed me into the car and drove away. I was screaming, and they hit me to shut me up.” She pauses to think, then, “I woke up in a cell, in The Morgue. The first thing I saw was the masks.”
I grind my teeth in anger. “Were you there this whole time?”
She nods. “Yep, sure was. They were mostly nice when I was young. They put me in a decent cell, fed me, clothed me. I was smacked around if I acted up, but that was all. I had to watch an endless parade of people come in and out of there. Other... prisoners.”
“Did they—?”
“No. They waited until I was eighteen. How nice of them, right? Then they all had their way with me and tossed me in the fighting ring.”
“God, Cynthia.” My stomach sinks, and my hands shake. Gulping it back, I continue. “Please, think back. Do you recall hearing anything about your true captors? See anyone else in charge? Anything?”
“Um...” She worries her lip with her teeth. “Wait. A man. A fancy-pants rich guy in a suit. He had an accent. He came to see me a couple of times. Called me his sweet prize. I overheard a mask call him Mr. Vol—Volkov, I think?”
I jump up so fast it startles her and she screams.
Cynthia shrinks back in her seat and starts to whimper. “No, no. Not today, nope. Don’t want to fight. Want my wifey.”
Fucking shit. I pushed too hard.
I rub small circles on her arm. “It’s okay, Cynthia. I’ll get someone to come sit with you.”
“No need. I’m happy to assist.”
I look up and see Jax lingering in the doorway.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, “but I heard the girl scream.”
“It’s fine. She remembered seeing Purge’s piece of shit father. I’ll go talk to Purge now.”
“Go. She's safe with me,” Jax huffs as he takes a seat near the bed.
“Please be careful not to startle or surprise her. Just keep an eye on her.”
“Of course. Go now, Harris. She's in good hands.”
I move to the door, pausing briefly to take in my sister again. She is back to doodling, humming under her breath.
Now to track down Purge.
Synn
God, I need Pazessca so badly, there’s a fire burning under my skin. I just need to ravage her, burying myself into her so far, I’ll never come out.
With my OCD and anxiety, once I get an idea firmly in my mind, I can’t stop until I do it. It usually involves violence or self-harm.
Now, though, I just want her. My Pazessca. She's all I can see, all I can hear. She went from being a pain in the ass to my entire universe.
I know she needs to trust me first, which is why I haven’t pushed for it. But my patience is wearing thin.
I’m so stupidly in love with her. I want to spend the rest of my days showing her how much.
But I have to earn it—especially after what I did to her.
I took her ass so savagely, without a care to what she wanted. I fucking raped her. I’m a piece of shit.
I'm still wrapping my mind around the fact that she’s one of us. A Rossi. The Rossi heir. The seventh family we had no clue about. Caterina—such a beautiful name. I'll keep calling her Pazessca, though.
I wonder how she’s handling this information. I want to be there for her. I think I’ll go look for her. Maybe she’ll talk to me, and we can grow closer.
That's all I ever wanted, once I pulled my head out of my ass: to be the man she deserves.
I won’t stop trying—ever.
My fucking father molded me into him from childhood. He pushed tirelessly for me to be a walking, talking powerhouse of violence and rage. A fucking murder machine that hides behind a fake-ass smile.
Every hit, sneer, and harsh word strengthened my walls. I held my tongue until I was old enough to push back.
Even when I could fight him, he just sicced his enforcers on me. Ruthlessly taught me the same lessons his enemies got.
I never thought I’d be any different, until Pazessca blasted her way into my heart.
That woman changed everything. I found love, and hope.
It's hope I cling to now. I won’t stop until she forgives me.