Chapter 33 #2
A ping alerts me to a notification. It's a new email. I click in to check, and startle when I read it.
Sender: V. Volkov
Message: Son— we are coming back, with your mothers. It’s none of your business why. I'm only telling you this because there are going to be heavy consequences for you boys’ actions. Be prepared to take your punishments.
What the actual fuck is that supposed to mean? Why would the son of a bitch give me a heads up?
My heart pounds out of my chest as I ponder the possibilities. There is only one conclusion that makes any sense: They mean to kill us.
I'm already up and out of my chair, running full-on out of the room. Bill calls out behind me, but I don’t stop. My feet pound against the floor as I go to look for everyone.
I check the media room first, but it’s empty. So, I just start knocking on doors, shouting. “911! Everyone come out!”
Panting, I put my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Doors click open, and they start pouring out.
Valley and Bryan are first over to me.
Sam comes next, followed by Razor, Frost, Ghost, and Trikk.
“The fuck is going on?” Razor asks, but I just shake my head.
“Synn?” I ask, but his door opens, and he walks out with Iskra in tow.
Before I can explain, I hear Harris shout from down the hall. “What’s going on?”
I wait for him to catch up, then I tell them about the message.
Synn roars. “That’s it. They die. No more waiting!”
Nodding, I say, “I agree. We need to take them out.”
“Fucking gladly,” Ghost says.
“Wait, bro. We're killing all of them? What about our mothers?” Trikk asks.
“Fuck yes,” Frost answers in my place. “All of them. And if our mothers are complicit in their bullshit, they go too. If not, we take them with us.”
“Wait, hang on,” Harris says in alarm. “The only way this could possibly work is with a coordinated attack. They would all have to be hit at the same time, that way no one can warn the others. And we need Jax and the ZYGOS team for that.”
Iskra nods her head thoughtfully. “I want the fuck in. My father-in-law owes me some fucking blood.”
Synn grunts next to her, but says, “Pazessca, as much as I want you with me for that, it’s way too dangerous and unpredictable. Please promise me, you’ll watch from here instead?”
Iskra stamps her foot, eyes on fire. “Fuck. Fine! But get an extra hit in for me.”
“Gladly,” Synn promises.
“Alright, let’s go track down Jax then.” I fold my arms, feeling antsy now that we’ve made this decision. “This needs to happen yesterday—the sooner, the better.”
Murmurs of agreement come from the others.
Bryan steps forward before we go, adding, “I want to help. I can be of aid in any way you see fit.”
“What? No, Bry. You're not a trained fighter!” a horrified Valley exclaims.
He pats her arm but stands firm. “Yes, Val. I need to pull my weight.”
“You can help, but in a non-front-line way. I won’t have you compromise the entire operation not being able to defend yourself,” Harris tells Bryan.
Valley lets out a breath of relief, and Bryan kisses her on the cheek.
Not waiting any longer, my feet move, taking me to Jax.
We find Jax in his office.
Crowding inside, Harris relays the situation to him.
Jax gets out of his chair to pace, his hands folded behind his back.
“Okay, I understand the severity of the situation. This will take every resource we have, and a whole lot of manpower, to pull off. Which will take time. You boys need to stay patient, and most importantly, stay put. No one leaves the compound from this point forward. Does everyone understand?”
We all grumble but readily agree. I step up, my hands shaking.
“I will be the one to finish my father. I'm sure the other guys feel the same.”
Synn, Razor, Ghost, and Frost say, “Yep.”
Trikk whispers, “I don’t know if I can. I'm not violent.”
“We got your back,” Sam says to Trikk.
“Now, everyone go on about your day. I need to begin planning.” Jax dismisses us.
We leave, talking amongst ourselves.
I'm hitting the gym, then the shooting range. I need to be as sharp as possible.
Phoenyxx
So, this is happening.
I've barely had time to come to terms with being married to Synn, and now this. I'm resolute in my support, and I want to help Synn bury his pedophile sperm donor, even if it’s just watching from here.
I chew my lower lip as I think. Even if I’m not going, danger is still going to exist. Especially now that it’s out I’m the Rossi heir. There are many more families out there than the seven I know of.
I need to train. The miserable excuse of experience in The Morgue’s fighting ring isn’t going to be of much use. I need to learn to fight and shoot a gun without freaking the fuck out. As much as I love my stabby sticks, a bullet is the safer option—especially from a distance.
Razor materializes next to me. “So, Fiasca. How about those fight lessons?”
I can’t help but to fire back, “Naked?”
Razor laughs. “Not this time. I want to be sure you know proper defense moves, and how to attack in the most productive way. I'm not going to go easy on you, either.”
“Good. I need to learn; the quicker, the better.”
Razor stands across from me in the ring.
“Show me what you learned in The Morgue, Fiasca. I need to judge your abilities.”
I hesitate, not sure how to go on the offense without being pumped full of drugs.
Stepping back a bit, I rush forward to swing my fist at his temple, but he easily sidesteps me. I then dance around to distract him, going in again for a kick to his knee. I miss and he laughs.
“Come on, Fiasca. You can do better than that.”
Gritting my teeth, I rush him and feign a swing, only to duck and bum rush him in the middle. To my surprise, I take him to the mat. Straddling him, I put one hand around his throat and squeeze while pulling a punch to his face.
“How am I doing so far?” I breathe heavily, climbing off him.
“Not bad, but not good enough. Let's check your defense now,” Razor answers.
Grinning, I make the “come on” gesture. He goes to punch my gut but somehow skirts around to get behind me. He puts my throat in a lock, then kicks my ankle to topple me to the floor.
I know I can’t let him get on top of me, so I go for his arm—still choking me.
Concentrating on the bend in his elbow, I reach up and chop it as hard as I can.
It loosens his hold, and I squirm out of it. I jump back to my feet, doing a fist pump in victory.
“Not too shabby. But you need to do much better for the real world. It's vital you can protect yourself,” Razor says.
“Yeah, I agree,” I say, head drooping as my confidence is dispelled. “Train me, please. I'll give you sweet rewards…” I turn on the charm, looking up at him beneath my lashes.
He chuckles wickedly, eyes dancing with mirth. His trademark red curls are a mess on his head. All my guys are stupid hot, and I appreciate the differences in each one of them.
Razor reaches through the ropes to grab two waters. He offers me one, which I take gratefully.
This is going to be a long day.