Chapter 12 Phoenyxx
Phoenyxx
I’m so restless I'm just pacing the hallways.
I really don’t want to think about the insane revelation that I’m a Rossi—a mafia heir. That my family is still alive, hopefully.
I shake it off, knowing I need to get the fuck out of here for a while.
I wonder who I can charm into sneaking me out?
Grinning, I go in search of Trikk. I’m going to work my wicked ways to get him to take me out of here for some R that’s craziness.
Before I can open my mouth to ask how he’s doing this, he’s already got the door open, leaning down and inside the car.
“Keep an eye out,” Trikk whispers.
My heart pounds as I look around. But I don’t see anyone.
I wonder how long this will take?
Suddenly, I hear the engine start, purring like a freaking kitten.
“Get in, baby. Hurry,” Trikk says in a rush.
I dash around to the passenger door. I don’t see a handle—what the fuck?
“Um, Trikk...?”
He opens it for me from the inside. My brows raise at how fancy it is.
I dive inside, loving the new car smell.
Trikk pats the wheel in appreciation.
He puts it in gear, and we speed up and around a weird ramp of sorts.
“How the hell do we get out of here? What kind of garage is this?” Words tumble from my mouth as a million thoughts clog my mind at once.
Is this too risky? Probably. It's a war in my mind between staying put for safety, to needing to just get the fuck out for a while.
No matter how I dice it up, one fact remains.
Danger is nowhere near gone, even in the Compound.
“A parking garage, like they have at businesses and stuff. Have you never seen one before?” Trikk glances at me in disbelief.
“Nope,” I mutter, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
“It’s okay, I totally understand,” Trikk reaches over, caressing my cheek.
I lean in for a moment, his touch calming my storm.
We drive up and around more, than I spot a large door.
“How?” I start to ask, but Trikk pats around the visors, finding what he’s looking for.
It's a small remote. He presses a button, and the door rolls up.
“And we’re out!” he hollers in triumph. “So, where to? I can punch it into the GPS.”
“You decide, I have no clue. What is a GPS, anyway?” What in the hell is that? How much shit am I still ignorant to?
“A digital, live map, basically.” Trikk pats my leg.
“Oh...”
God. Will I never not be socially retarded?
“Okay, it looks like there's a little cafe about twenty minutes from here. Sound good?” Trikk asks.
I nod, settling in for the drive.
Trikk puts his hand on my thigh, giving me some seriously naughty thoughts. I ignore them, excited to finally go somewhere with one of my guys.
Twenty minutes later, we arrive in an adorable little town. We drive down the main street, and I’m rubbernecking at all the quaint shops and restaurants that line both sides of the street. There are people walking about, and a decent amount of traffic.
Trikk pulls in to a spot on the side of the road. “The cafe is about a block down. Hold my hand, and keep your head down, okay?”
I nod, and he gets out first, walking around to open my door like a true gentleman. He bows at the waist, offering me his hand. I giggle, accepting it.
“You’re such a cute dork,” I laugh.
“Come on, little sweet talker.”
Trikk tugs my hand, and we walk over to the cafe.
Bells chime on the door as we enter. It's tiny but packed full of people. The smells coming from it are divine.
There is a smattering of tables throughout the space. It looks totally old-school, from a time past.
A harried looking waitress comes over to us. “Welcome to Cuppa. Table for two?”
“Yes, please,” Trikk answers.
“I have something in the back, a couple just left. It should be cleaned off by now.”
We follow the waitress over, and take our seats at a small, square table. It's adorned with fresh flowers, and two menus sit alongside silverware and napkins.
“Our specials are on the front. I'll be back to take your order.”
I open my menu, smiling at the large caption at the top stating, “New Jersey’s best-kept secret!”
My eyes blow wide at all the options. Hell—I've never even heard of some of this stuff.
Trikk chuckles, reading my facial expression as I lower the menu.
“What are you getting?” I ask him.
“Pancakes and coffee, of course,” Trikk rolls his eyes so dramatically, I’m surprised he doesn’t give himself a headache.
“Ha-ha, asshole.” I playfully kick him in the shin. “I think I’m going for the blueberry pancakes, bacon, coffee, and orange juice.”
“I love how much you enjoy food.”
Trikk smiles, and I smile back.
The waitress comes over, holding a pen and small notepad. “What can I get you folks?”
We rattle off our orders, and she walks to the kitchen, then comes back with a pot of caffeinated goodness. I look in bewilderment for the cups, and Trikk points out they're upside-down in front of us.
“Just flip your cup over.”
I face-palm, my face reddening again.
She pours our coffee and saunters off.
“The sugar and creamer packets are right there.” Trikk points to the center of the table.
He takes my hand, sensing my frazzled state.
“It’s okay, Bambi. I get it. No need to ever be embarrassed, alright?”
“Thanks, Trikk.” I beam a high watt smile at him.
Damn I love this man.
The food arrives after just a few minutes, and we both tuck in without much conversation.
I moan in appreciation. The pancakes are delicious—the bacon crisp.
“I still love your pancakes the best,” I tell him.
Trikk kisses my hand, and I smile softly.
We finish our food, and he pays the bill.
I get up and stretch, my belly uncomfortably full. “Thanks for this.”
“Anything for you, my girl.” Trikk motions toward the door.
We head out back to the car.
We’re mid-conversation when suddenly, someone claps Trikk’s back hard enough I hear the sound of it. I turn with a frown just in time to see his face pale as he slides to the ground.
“What the fuck?” I yell just as some random guy comes right up to me, throwing his arm over my shoulders.
“Don’t say a fucking word or else,” he whispers in my ear.
I feel something hard jammed into my side, and I realize it must be a gun, or knife.
He confirms the former when he says, “Don’t make me shoot you.”
“What did you do to my boyfriend?” I demand.
“Relax, Little Bird. I just knocked him out. He'll be fine. Now—walk with me.”
Wait a damn minute... Little Bird?
No—there's no fucking way. Please, God, don’t let this be...
He chuckles, and I go cold.
“Miss me?” The asshole Demon mask smirks, a glint in his eye.
“You motherfucker! Where’s your mask, and your buddies? Asshole.”
“Now, now, Little Bird. I suggest you behave.” He shoves me forward next to a medium-sized black car with dark windows. “Get in. Now.”
I whirl around. “I am not going back to that hellhole! You'll have to kill me first!”
He laughs again. “I’m not taking you there. We're going somewhere special. Just you and me.”
“Kiss my hot-peppered ass, Demon mask,” I snarl.
Demon opens the back door, practically throwing me inside.
Jumping up front, we take off.
I immediately try the doors, but they’re both locked. Same with the windows. I attempt to memorize the way he’s going, but without me knowing anything about where we even are, it’s impossible.
I’m shaking with fear and anger. The guys are going to freak the fuck out.
They'll come for me. I know it.
It's the only thing getting me through this moment.
Trikk
I groan out loud as piercing pain reverberates through my skull. What the hell happened? I sit up, looking around in confusion for a minute. Why am I outside?
It all comes rushing back, and I jump up with a yell. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I scream for my girl. “Bambi! Phoenyxx?”
No answer. I scan the people I can see, but no one looks familiar or out of place. No one is even glancing at me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a stranger, or I wasn’t knocked out very long.
I break into a full-out run, screaming for my Bambi. I whip out my phone, hitting call on the first name to pop up.
“Why are you calling me, man?” Synn asks, and I start to shake and sweat as I speak in a jumbled rush.
“Bambi is gone. I think someone took her. Fuck—I was knocked out; I don’t know for how long. She's gone, Synn. I stole one of Jax’s cars and we just went for breakfast, man. She needed a break. Now she is fucking gone!”
“What the fuck, Trikk? Why would you put her in danger like that? Anyone could have her! Purge's father, The Retreat, anyone! What the hell is wrong with you?” Synn's rage comes through the phone, loud and clear.
“I’m sorry, brother. What do I do?” Panic rises in my throat, and I almost choke on it.
“Get your fucking ass back here pronto. And I mean now,” Synn orders.
“I’m not close, man. Twenty minutes or so. I can’t just leave here without her.” I can hear the tears in my voice. How can I possibly leave without Bambi?
“Where exactly are you?” Synn asks.
“By a cafe called Cuppa.”
“Just get back here.”
I rush to the car, sliding in the seat and peeling out. I push the car as fast as I can.
I need them to find Bambi.
I hope Jax doesn’t kill me.
Fuck.