Phoenyxx
I’m sorestless 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 & R.
“Trikk!” I holler down the hallway when I see him by the media room.
He spins, face lighting up as he hurries towards me. “Bambi. What can I do for you, beautiful?”
“Well, I need to get out of my head for a while. I’m struggling to deal, you know? Maybe you could sneak me out for a bit? Coffee and pancakes?” I bat my eyes, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. I suck at flirting, but I’m trying.
“Um... it’s really unsafe, baby.” Trikk’s eyes dart around, a sure sign that he’s nervous.
“I trust you to protect me, Trikkie.” That nickname should work. I hope.
An uncertain look crosses his face, so I know I neded to step it up.
“Trikk, baby... pretty please?” I pout, then lean in for a slow, hot kiss.
He kisses me back with fervor, softening beneath my touch.
Pulling back, he looks into my eyes, then nods.
“I’ll have to find a ride. Wait—I know. Want to sneak down to the garage with me?” Trikk’s smile is a mile long.
“Hell yeah, I do.” My smile grows to match his.
He takes off his hoodie, handing it to me. I inhale deeply, loving the way he smells. Whatever cologne he wears is droolworthy.
I put it on, pulling up the hood.
“Good girl. Keep your head down, okay? Follow me.”
Trikk looks pretty hot marching ahead of me, like he’s in command of something.
My laid-back guy is sexy as fuck when he gets more assertive.
We hustle over to the stairs, going down several flights until I’m breathing hard.
“I am so not cut out for this,” I pout, making him laugh softly.
Exercise is evil. I never had much of a chance to actually work out. Fighting off abusers at the Solomons’, then more bullshit at The Retreat, isn’t the same as regular exercise routines.
Finally, we reach the bottom level. I haven’t been down here. We must be below the first floor. Trikk punches in a code next to the door. We enter into a huge, cavernous area, packed with cars and motorcycles.
“Um, Trikk? How are we doing this without keys?” I look him up and down, searching for anything shiny he may have with him.
Trikk grins at me. “I know how to hotwire cars, Bambi. Now—pick one.”
I scan the area, seeing a sweet-looking shiny red car that’s low to the ground. It looks expensive, and fast.
I gesture towards it, and Trikk whistles low.
