Chapter 16
Phoenyxx
“Get up, wife.”
I’m awoken by a swift kick to my ribs.
I groan, opening my eyes. “I'm not your wife, Maxim.”
“You don’t want to make me mad, Little Bird. Not today. We have a wedding to plan.” Maxim smirks.
I know I have to play along, but it makes my blood run cold. I don’t want this sicko touching me—or worse.
The trauma I’ve been through my whole damn life has piled up so much, I can’t breathe around it.
So much physical abuse, rape, starvation, getting drugged. I taught myself how to become numb, but the truth remains— every single trauma has left a mark on my soul.
I was diagnosed with clinical depression, anxiety disorder, and multi-trauma PTSD when I was still in The Retreat. Panic attacks have been frequent since I was a child.
The only time I’ve known love is with my besties and my guys. I won’t give that up, for anything.
My anxiety ratchets up another notch. There's no escaping the clutches of the panic attack coming on.
“Why are you breathing so hard, wife? Want me that badly?” Maxim questions.
I can’t answer. I feel like I’m going to black out. Spots dance in my vision, and my fingers and toes are already numb.
“Hey!” Maxim yells in my face. He pulls me up from the dirty mattress and shakes me back and forth like a rag doll.
My head whips back so hard, I feel something give out back there.
I scream in pain. “Stop, Maxim! You messed up my neck.”
“Oh now... we can’t have that. You need to be able to suck my dick on our wedding night,” Maxim says matter-of-factly.
I can’t stop the full-body shudder that runs through me.
I don’t say a word as he carefully places me back onto the mattress.
He tosses another white gown at me, identical to the one I’m wearing. He walks out of my line of sight, coming back with a bucket and towel. He sets it down on the ground next to me. I see a large sponge floating in the soapy water.
“Clean-up time, Little Bird. Hold still and let me bathe you.”
Oh, fuck no. Nausea climbs up my throat, threatening to erupt. I have to let him do it, though it makes me want to vomit.
Maxim pulls me up once again. “Strip, wife. Now.”
I reluctantly shuck off the nightgown and tiny panties, standing there naked and shivering. I have no damn choice. I'm imprisoned and fucking shackled.
Maxim comes forward, grabbing the sponge from the bucket. He wrings it out and brings it to my body. He runs it over my skin, from my neck down my legs, then moves to my back and ass.
I close my eyes as he gets to my thighs.
“Open up,” he orders me.
I very reluctantly part my legs, and he runs the soapy sponge over my lower stomach, thankfully not touching me beyond that.
“All done,” Maxim announces.
He grabs for the towel he had sitting nearby, wrapping me up in it.
Before he leaves, he tells me, “Get dressed and behave.” As if an afterthought, his parting words are, “We’ll have to take care of that hair. I need you to be nice and smooth for our wedding night.”
I’m shivering in absolute fear. I can’t marry this psychopath.
What did he mean about “smooth”? Is he going to shave me? My pussy? Oh God—a blade against my skin... I have a fresh brand, for fuck’s sake! Surely, no one will touch that?
I can’t do this. I need my guys—I need to go home. Why haven’t they found me yet? I know they must be looking. They're at the ZYGOS compound; they must be turning over every rock they can to find me.
Being in this basement is fucking with me mentally worse than I thought it would. I keep getting flashbacks to my time with Synn's father. This is my PTSD, I know that. It's just so real. It feels like I’m right back there, at his father’s mercy.
The door opens above me, and I quiver where I sit huddled up on the mattress, knees drawn to my chest. Maxim walks into my line of vision, smiling.
“How about a kiss, Little Bird? You need to greet your husband properly,” he demands.
My eyes well with tears. I can’t kiss this guy, but what choice do I really have?
I stand slowly, stretching out my arm to him. He takes my hand, drawing me to stand right in front of him. Heart hammering, I lean in to place a tiny peck on his lips.
Maxim frowns. “That is not a proper kiss, wife. Do you want to be punished again?”
I swallow bile, touching his mouth with mine again. This time, he grabs the back of my head, holding me to him. His tongue pries open my lips, sweeping inside my mouth. I just stand there still, letting him plunder me.
Maxim finally pulls back with a nod. “Time for you to get ready for our wedding. I have a priest on the way as we speak. There are two women I trust waiting to help you. Keep this in mind, though, wife. The priest and the women work for me. They will not help you. Understand?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, my traitorous eyes filling up again. I turn my head away, so he doesn’t see it.
Maxim pats me on the head like a dog, then leaves.
I’m in shock, I think. Everything slows way down. My heartbeat is muffled in my ears. I just stand there, waiting.
Is this really happening?
Purge
Where the hell is she? I’m attempting to narrow the vast area Iskra could be in. All I’m managing to do is nothing—zero. I’m no fucking help with this.
I wheel my office chair next to Thor. Thankfully, Cynthia left a while ago.
“What time is it, man?” I ask him, rubbing my eyes in exhaustion.
“It’s late. Close to midnight.” Thor says, never taking his eyes from his screen.
“Any luck?” I ask, fingers crossed.
“Well... maybe. There are no properties on any map for this area. No property deeds I can find, either. But see this area here?” Thor zooms in the screen, pointing.
“I’m picking up heat signatures. I don’t know exactly how many, or who it even is.
It could be pot growers, for all I know.
I already alerted Jax about it a couple of minutes ago.
I know he’s still busy getting the teams sorted. ”
I exhale loudly. “Well, I’m praying it’s her. A heat signature means she’s alive.”
Before I can continue, Jax comes in the room. “Alright, I’ve got this figured out. I got your message, Thor. We will be using the info to track Phoenyxx.” Jax looks at me. “Assemble the others, please. I've got everything arranged. We'll be heading out at dusk tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I shoot from my seat, incredulous.
“Yes, Purge. Tomorrow. Some of the guys needed for this are still busy with other projects. We have to wait until they all return.”
Fuck my life. I already have my phone in my hand, typing out a message to the group chat for the others to meet us here.
It doesn’t take long for them all to filter in. Everyone’s here, except for Harris's sister, Cynthia. I assume she’s not stable enough for a rescue mission.
Jax clears his throat. “Listen up. I'll go over this once. Save your questions until I’m finished.” He looks at all of us in turn.
“We will have three teams in three different vehicles. The first team is made up of solely my guys. Blade, Tyler, Black, and Georgeo. The second will be led by Maverick. Frost, Trikk, and 3 will be with him. The third is led by Trav. Synn, Razor, and Ghost will be with him.”
“Wait a damn minute,” I yell. “What about me? And Harris?”
Jax glares at me. “We need our computer experts on site. And before anyone asks—I included 3 because he is proving to be an asset.”
Synn curses low, Ghost muttering along with him. Everyone else is restless, unable to hold still.
Valley raises a hand. “Me and Bryan? What do we do?”
“Wait here and help the others with anything they need,” Jax says.
“Okay, but please bring my bestie back. I need her.”
Jax softly pats her on the back. “We will do our very best, I promise.”
Bryan speaks up. “I’ll take care of the girls. But I need my friend back as much as my girl does.”
I shoot a tiny smile at Bryan in appreciation.
“Everyone reconvene here at seven pm tomorrow, got it?” Jax says to us all.
Everyone nods, then starts out the door.
I refuse to move from my computer. I have to figure this out. Iskra needs me.
Patient 3
My Em can’t be hurt. I will personally dismember anyone who lays a hand on her perfect skin.
I will find her. I have zero inhibitions or limits. That was beat out of me long ago.
The first set of masks trained me well, in fighting and shooting. They told me they wanted me to be prepared for anything. That's why I was able to best Razor in the ring.
The rest were so abusive, though; my learned skills didn’t mean shit.
I give my head a good shake to clear the unwanted thoughts. I must focus. Getting my Em out is all that matters.
“Hey, man, I was looking for you,” Ghost’s voice calls out from down the hall. He catches up to me and adds, “I want to be sure you can communicate while we’re out there. How much talking have you managed so far?”
I set my jaw, determined to speak as much as I can. “Am working on it. Em teaching me. Must find her. Save her.”
“Okay, that’s good. Em, huh? What's that stand for?” Ghost asks.
“Emerald. Her eyes.”
“Good job, man. Hey, when we’re all there together, stay with me, if you can.”
I stare at him intently. “Thought big guy in charge. Synn.”
He laughs. “He likes to think so. You’ll work best with me. Okay?”
“Yes.”
We walk to our rooms together. It feels like I made a friend. That would be nice.
Trikk
I decide after much debate to take my exhausted ass to bed. The others are wandering around. Some have retired to their rooms already.
I yawn loudly as I let myself into my own. It's a fucking mess. Clothes strewn everywhere, bed unmade. I honestly don’t care right now. My father forced me to be neat and clean, but he’s not here. Thank fuck.
Trikk
Age 15
“It looks like a bomb went off in here. I thought you knew better, son. I'm disappointed.”
My father hovers in my bedroom doorway, perusing my mess of a room.
I shrug one shoulder with a grin. “Sorry, Pops.”
It takes a bit to set my father off. But apparently calling him “Pops” was a step too far.
My father walks inside, closing the door behind him. He grabs my shirt collar, hauling me to him, nose to nose.
“You will respect me. I will punish you harshly. Really, son—I thought you were trained better.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes dramatically.
The sound of a loud slap fills the room, my cheek stinging. He slapped me in the face.
“The fuck?” I shout.
My father’s face turns red with anger. He hits me in the stomach, making me fold at the waist, losing my breath. He hits me several more times, than shoves me hard onto my bed.
“Clean this shit up. Then tend to your face. Mrs. Hamilton wants you pristine,” my father orders, spit flying as he practically yells the words.
He stalks back into the hall, slamming my door so hard, it rattles.
Fucking asshole. I'm sick of being a whore.
I strip down and climb under the sheets.
My mind is whirling. I feel so guilty that I’m the reason Bambi was taken. I'll stop at nothing to get her back.
I'll even fucking kill if I have to.
Phoenyxx
I have no idea how much time has passed as I lie here on this smelly, dirty mattress. I'm just staring at the ceiling.
I have to piss so badly. I look at the grate in the floor underneath the hooks. Will this chain let me get that far? Only one way to find out.
I get up with a soft moan, hungry and exhausted. Shuffling forward, I inch towards the grate. I’m just an bit away from it when the chain snaps taut. Fuck.
Screw it... good enough. I squat, pissing on the floor. Luckily, it runs to the grate.
I stand back up and start to go back to the mattress. But before I can lay down again, the door opens above, a light coming on. Female voices filter in.
My spine snaps straight as I wait for them to come down.
Two pretty women make their way towards me. They are carrying a large case of some kind between the two of them. One is blonde, the other a redhead. They look to be in their twenties.
“Hi,” the redhead chirps brightly. “We’re here for your wedding. I know it’s not until tomorrow, but we needed to see what we’ll be working with.”
“Yep,” the blonde agrees. She steps up, tilting my chin up. “Hmmm... I can work with this. You have beautiful skin.”
The redhead steps up, perusing my body. “Lift your arms, please.” I do as she asks, and she tsks. “Your bikini area?”
“Huh?” I ask in confusion.
“Your crotch,” the redhead answers.
“Fuck that,” I glare at them both. ‘I’m not cooperating with this.”
The redhead pales, her eyes blowing wide. “Your fiancée told us we had to get it done. Please say you understand?”
“Dammit. Okay.” I lift my nightgown, showing her. I can’t be the reason any other women get hurt.
“Oh boy, that’s a lot of hair. Well, the good news is we can wax all that away,” the redhead tells me.
The blonde tussles my hair, making clucking sounds as she does it. “I think curls and an updo would do nicely. It's a shame about the colors, though. We could change it—”
I stop her cold. “No. My hair color stays the way it is.”
“Alright, don’t get upset.” The blonde shoots a small smile at me.
The redhead beams. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning to begin prep. Aren't you excited?”
“Ec-fucking-static,” I deadpan.
“Rest up. See you tomorrow,” the redhead says.
Thankfully, they both leave.
I fight off the rise of panic welling up in my chest.
I’ve got to believe my guys will find me in time.
I will fight—and kill, if it comes to that. I am not marrying Maxim.
Marriage is sacred, a forever pact. Real or not, it means something to me.
I swear to myself he won’t rape me, or take me away from my guys more than he already has.
No fucking more.