Page 31 of Sadistic Retribution (Rise of Phoenyxx #2)

Synn

Once Harris left, we needed to come to a decision.

I'm well aware of Pazessca sitting in the living room. We left the door open to Purge’s room so we can hear it if she tries to leave.

We speak in low voices, not wanting her to hear us.

"We need to decide on what to do about that important issue. I think it’ll be the only thing that can bring her back. ”

Frost agrees. “I think so, too. I was hoping Harris would do it, but she’s not responding to him at all—or anything else.”

“Bro, I just want my Bambi back,” Trikk pouts.

“Yeah, I miss Fiasca. She helps calm my violence,” Razor chimes in, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

“You know I agree,” Purge adds. “The need to Rage Out lessens when she’s nearby.”

I turn to look at Ghost, who’s lingering in the background, hood up, head down. He's the one I’m most worried about. I've never seen him like this before. “Ghost?”

He looks up at me. “Yes. Malishka must come back. I can’t live without her.” Tears well in his eyes, and he turns away.

“It’s decided, then. Frost and I will put the wheels in motion.”

“Until then, she should go back to her room. I can’t stress this enough. At least one of us needs to be camped out outside her door at all times so she doesn’t leave,” Frost says, looking at all of us.

“So, we’re all in agreement, then? Ghost and Trikk—go watch her for now. Razor, hang back. You'll be the one to most easily help with the issue.”

Everyone murmurs their agreement. I blow out a loud breath, freaked that we’re doing this, anarchy-style. Our fathers can’t do shit to us now. It's up to us—as it should have always been.

Phoenyxx

I've tried the front door already, but it’s fucking locked. I don’t know what they’re all whispering about in there, but I’m getting very restless. I need out of this cage! I have much more blood to spill.

I try to go spy, but I still can’t hear shit. I pace back and forth in the living room, hoping these fuckers let me the fuck out of here before I go ballistic, and shed their blood.

Finally, they exit Purge’s bedroom. Frost speaks directly to me. “You’re going back to your room with Ghost and Trikk. You will STAY there until further notice. You won’t be able to leave—they'll be watching you. Ponimayesh?”

“Russian?” I roll my eyes dramatically. “How cliche of you. Fuck you all. Just take me back, assholes.”

Trikk sidles up on my left side, taking my arm. Ghost rolls up to my right, doing the same. They march me out and to my dorm.

Hunter

Once I'm safely back inside my place, I lock the door and move to the bedroom. I pull out my phone, calling Jax. He picks up before the first ring ends.

“I saw it all. What...?” I clear my throat. “What now? The six boys know what their fathers are involved in. That leaves the Director. And my sister...” I shake my head to clear it. “How is Mav after that?”

Jax exhales on the other end of the line. “Maverick is dealing with it well. I expected him to go vomit afterwards, but he held his composure. He was made to eat... what he was bidding on.”

I shiver, goosebumps sprouting on my arms. “That is... God. there aren’t words. Tell him I said thank you.”

“Will do. Once everyone is set, I want all of you to toss the hell out of Augustine’s office. And Harris? Don't leave without concrete facts and evidence.”

“Understood. When can I tell them about you?”

“Once you return with what we need, I’ll talk to you about it then. I'm sure you understand the risks involved.”

“Of course I do. We'll be very thorough. Thanks.” I disconnect, sitting down to develop a plan.

I’m deep in thought when my regular phone rings. I pick it up, glancing at the unknown number. I doubt it’s Jax and answer it tentatively. “Yes?”

“Hello, this is Nurse Goodman from Saint Mercy Hospital. Is this Hunter Harris?”

The fuck? “Yes, what is this about?”

“I’m calling regarding your father, Liam Harris. He’s here, under our care. He doesn’t have much time left, Mr. Harris. I'm so sorry for the grim news. He’s asking for you. You may want to get here as quickly as possible.”

My jaw almost hits the floor. My father. I thought the bastard was dead, along with my mother. Why is he asking for me?

“Look, I haven’t spoken to that man in many years.”

“I understand, Mr. Harris. I do feel you should have this last conversation with him, though.”

“Where are you even located?”

“In Millburn, on the north end.”

Fuck. That’s not far; but I do not have time for this. Still… I have an odd feeling that if I blow this off, I'll regret it later.

“Fine, send me the address by text. I'll be on my way shortly.”

“I’m so happy to hear that! I'll let Liam know.”

I hang up, my body shaking. I let out a loud sigh, calling Jax back again.

“Hey, I got an unexpected call from a hospital in Millburn. Apparently, my father is dying and wants to see me.”

“Go ahead and take care of it. We can hold down the fort in the meantime.”

“Thank you,” I respond before hanging up. I pull up a text chat next, inputting everyone.

Me: I am sorry to do this right now, but I got a call from Mercy Hospital in Millburn. My father is there and dying. He wants to see me. I'm going to see what he wants.

Purge: All good, I’ll keep working while you’re gone.

Synn: Go, we’ll be fine

Trikk: We got your back bro!

Razor: Yep, no problem

Ghost: Okay

Frost: Good luck!

I take a deep breath, debating taking my own car. It's probably better if I do, it’s a normal-looking car. It shouldn’t attract any unwanted attention.

I head to it, unlocking the door, and sliding behind the wheel. I input the address the nurse sent into my GPS and put it into gear. Time to see what the fuck that waste of space wants.

An hour later, I pull into the parking lot for Mercy Hospital. I go through the main doors, and straight to the front desk.

“I’m Hunter Harris. My father, Liam Harris, is here?”

The receptionist looks up with a smile. “Oh, yes, Mr. Harris. We've been waiting for you. I'll ring the nurse to come get you.”

I thank her, only waiting a heartbeat before a nurse comes out of the double doors that lead to the hospital rooms. “Right this way, Mr. Harris.”

I follow her, and she scurries into a room in the middle of the hall, close to the nurse’s station. “Here we are! Your father had a major stroke, and it severely weakened his heart. We can't get a transplant, so we’re just trying to keep him comfortable.”

I just nod, emotionless. I follow her inside and internally recoil at the sight of the neglectful bastard who sired me. He’s skinny and frail now, his hair almost completely grey. His tired eyes land on me, and he attempts to speak. “Son… please… come. I must speak with you.”

The nurse leaves quietly, shutting the door behind her. I walk to his bedside. “What could you possibly have to say to me, after all this time?”

“It’s about your... sister...” He starts coughing, gasping for breath.

I lay into him, having zero patience for this piece of shit.

“What about Cynthia? She was kidnapped years ago!

And what did you do to find her? Nothing!

I've been the only one looking for her since she disappeared! I raised her—not you!” He flinches, but I refuse to back down and be nicer. Fuck. Him. “Talk, old man!”

Tears fill his eyes. “She was taken for a reason, son. I... already...” He starts coughing again. “I... knew. I was told before it happened.” He looks away in shame. “I was... paid... to turn my eyes away...”

“What?” I bellow. “Where the hell is she?”

He coughs again, this time blood coming up, staining his lips. “The...” he starts to rasp out. “The family... the...” Before he can finish his sentence, he starts to convulse. The machines he’s attached to go crazy, alarms sounding throughout the room.

Doctors and nurses rush in. “Please step back, Mr. Harris!”

I just stand there, screaming at him, “Don’t you dare die without telling me, you bastard! Where is my sister?”

The doctor in charge shoves me backwards to drag the paddles in. The heart monitor goes crazy, fuck!

“Clear!” The doctor shouts, attempting to restart his heart. He tries three times, but his pulse never goes back to normal until… and nothing. The doctor steps back, looking to me with sorrow in his expression. “Time of death...”

I tune him out, absolutely flabbergasted that fucker was a part of Cynthia being kidnapped. I sneer, turning on my heel to leave.

“Wait, Mr. Harris!”

I ignore them, walking fast to get the hell out of there. I make it back to my car, and floor it back to The Retreat.

I fill the guys and Jax in by text and settle in for the drive as memories of childhood sift through my mind.

Hunter Age 13

My parents are passed out in the living room, and it’s only seven in the morning.

I'm woken up by my sister crying loudly. I wait to see if my mom will go help her, but there’s no movement whatsoever.

Cynthia keeps crying, so I drag myself out of bed and go into the tiny area of the back of this rundown trailer used as her “nursery”—though it’s not even a room. It's by the back door.

I shuffle towards her, shushing her with a gentle voice. “It’s okay, Cynthia, I’ve got you.”

I lift her gently from the secondhand crib we got from a neighbor. She's three now, but we can’t afford a proper toddler bed. There's a threadbare blanket, and a toy I stole from a toy store for her in there.

I frown at how warm she feels. I put the back of my hand to her head, and her chest. She's burning up. Fuck!

In a panic, I rush out to the living room, Cynthia still in my arms. “Mom, Dad! Wake up! Something's wrong with Cynthia!”

I shake them both roughly, but they don’t even stir. There are empty bottles of alcohol near my dad, and some needles scattered on the table. They're fucked out of their minds—there will be no help from them.

I go back into Cynthia's area, grabbing some clothes I hurriedly put on her after changing her diaper clumsily. She's not even potty-trained yet—my parents can’t be bothered.

I race out to the front door, looking frantically for my dad’s car keys. I spy them tossed on the side table, so I snatch them up, and hustle out the door, rocking Cynthia to try and comfort her.

I wrench open the rusty door on my dad’s old, beat-up sedan, strapping her into the car seat I got her from a garage sale. Then I jump into the driver’s seat, hesitating. I'm only thirteen. Driving can’t be that hard, though, right?

I start the car and attempt to adjust the seats and mirrors. Before I can put it in drive, though, there’s a knock on the window.

Our neighbor down the road is looking in at me. He's a nice guy. He's older, in his sixties maybe.

I roll the window down, and he frowns when he sees Cynthia in the backseat, and my parents nowhere in sight. “Is everything okay, son?”

“Um, well, my sister is sick or something. She's really hot. I'm taking her to the hospital.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Well, inside but they’re... passed out. I couldn’t wake them up.”

“How old are you, son?”

I look down, then back at him. “Thirteen...”

“Oh my,” he exclaims. “Why don’t you let me take a look at her? I have a lot of experience as a father and grandfather.”

I nod, opening the door and moving to get Cynthia out of her car seat. I pass her to him. He feels her head, and asks me, “Has she been coughing or sneezing? Runny nose? Diarrhea?”

“I don’t think so. She woke up crying like this.”

“Alright. It's perfectly normal for small children to develop fevers sometimes. I have some things at the house that will fix her right up.”

“I appreciate that, thanks.”

He walks quickly back to his house, and I wait right where I am, holding a still crying Cynthia.

He comes back, his arms loaded with supplies. He hands me the bag he put everything in. “I wrote down directions for the medicine I put in there. Make sure you give it to her every four hours until the fever is gone.”

“Okay.”

“There’s also food, water, and juice for the little one in there too. Just keep her fed, hydrated, and comfortable. If she gets worse, let me know, and I’ll take you both to the hospital.”

“I will, thank you so much!”

I turn to go back inside, grateful for his help. Raising my sister is hard, but I’ll never stop taking care of her. She needs me. I'm all she’s got. I love her more than anything.