Lorelei
The cool leather seats of the Lexus Minivan stick to my bare legs.
We've been driving for a few minutes already. I've yet to see Kidnapper's face because there's some kind of divider that blocks my view into the front of the vehicle. Whoever he is still hasn't spoken to me either, the most I've gotten out of the ass is that taunting laugh in my dad's office.
Speaking of Dad, my mind still hasn't quieted. All I can think about is that I'm leaving him to the wolves, leaving him to die a horrible death while I hold up in a safe house. I can't stop images of his bloody, decaying body in the same position as Mom from flicking through my thoughts. It makes me almost nauseous to think of him like that, gone from this earth, leaving me officially alone.
I even think of Amira having the same fate.
Either one of them falling prey to whoever's hunting us has my heartbeat going wild, my hands trembling, and my emotions whirling.
I feel so much love for the two of them, especially now that they're the only people in the world who I've allowed close to me in my entire life. I didn't even really have other friends in school. I mean I've obviously had surface level relationships with other's, I'm not a social reject. But no one else really knows the Lorelei Phoenix.
So many questions gnaw at my mind. Where am I going? Who's targeting my family? Does Dad really know who they are? Am I safe? Are the people I care about safe? Will my life ever go back to the semblance of normal it was before? And who is the man driving me back to my apartment?
At least I'm not necessarily uncomfortable, tired from the fact that it's already 12:00 in the morning, but not uncomfortable. The car is spacious, not your usual cramped interior. The whole thing is dark grey and black but the seats are white. They're sort of like a recliner you would see in someone's living room, two at the front, two where I'm seated, and two in the back. There's even a little panel in the center with tons of controls. But I don't touch that for fear I might fuck something up.
We hit a particularly bumpy part in the road and it surprises me, jostling my body around a little.
"Sorry," A rough, but somehow silky voice coming from the front of the vehicle has me even more perplexed.
I can only assume that's the man I've dubbed, Kidnapper, as I didn't see anyone else while getting inside of the car. Again, I can't see him, but there's a small opening in the divider, allowing for conversations.
So, I take my chance. "Not your fault,"
He doesn't say anything more, letting the car fall back into an eerie silence, only the sound of the road and cars rushing by can be heard. But there's no way in hell I'm letting that happen.
I decide to go for something simple, ease into it. "What's your name?"
I'm surprised and annoyed when his voice responds with, "That's irrelevant,"
I cross my arms. "How is your name irrelevant?"
"Because I said so," There's an unforgiving edge to his words but I also hear a shimmer of amusement.
My eyes roll to the heavens. "What are you, my father?"
"If you'd like to call me daddy, sure." The arrogance comes off of this man in waves, I can already tell.
I immediately feel the anger start to boil at his insinuation. The cocky fucker knew what I meant.
Ugh!
My eyes glare holes at the divider, straight at where I hope Kidnapper's head is. "You're disgusting," I throw as much distaste into my voice as I can.
"You don't even know me yet, Principessa."
Princess, are you kidding me?
I understood what he said partially from watching TV and partially because my father forced me to learn a base knowledge of a couple of common languages. It can come in handy when dealing with the types of people my job normally handles.
I'm surprised I didn't hear the slight accent before. Though, I'm guessing he either wasn't born in Italy or has been here a long time because it's faded, offset by a typical Californian lilt.
Tucking that interesting tidbit of information in my back pocket for later, my fists ball up at my sides. "Don't call me that,"
He chuckles in that dark, sultry way again. "Why not? That's what you are, isn't it?"
He has no idea who he's dealing with. I may not know this man, but all I can think about is ripping him limb from limb.
"Funny," I say, gritting my teeth. "Why don't you come back here so I can show you what a princess I am?"
"Hm, your request intrigues me but unfortunately, I need to keep my eyes on the road." I can almost see the snarky grin from behind the divider.
"What about my bike?" I had completely forgotten about my lovely motorcycle that I left at my father's.
"It'll be transported to the house later. Though, I don't think you'll be needing it much."
"And why's that?"
"Again," He says, sounding agitated. "That's beside the point,"
I slump back in my chair with a puff of air, recrossing my arms and staring intently out the window. All of the cars pass us by in a blur and the skyscrapers tower above us as we head further and further into the city, towards my apartment. The lights from various buildings and apartments are beautiful, streamlining into something just out of a painting. That's something I've definitely always loved about LA.
"For the record, my name is Kenzo Armani. I guess that isn't irrelevant considering where you're going,"
"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I question, still pissed off.
"Not even a thank you for the information?" He laughs but when I give no response, Kenzo continues. "You'll need to know who I am if you're going to be living with us,"
My eyes practically bug out of my head and my heart slams in my chest. "Living with you?"
"Us," He repeats smoothly.
"And who's us? More annoying dickheads?"
I hear Kenzo snort from the front seat. "Fiery aren't we, Principessa? Many would describe them as such, yes. But that information is actually immaterial at the moment,"
I shoot up from my position, or at least as much as the seatbelt will allow. "You've just informed me of my living situation for who knows how long and now you're saying it's irrelevant? Make up your mind,"
I guess I've hit my limit with Kenzo as his voice never sounds again. Normally, I would protest, get the answers I desire. But after the events of today, hell, after the events of this week, I can't find the strength to. He's annoying, albeit, and definitely arrogant. But there's something about his voice, his jokes, that has my heart a little fluttery, my cheeks a little flushed.
Living with him? Living with us?
That's exactly what he'd said, which only confused me more.
What did Dad get me into?
The car comes to a rolling stop after what feels like hours, but what I know was really only about twenty minutes. My apartment building looms high in the sky, right in front of this vehicle. I take a deep breath, staring out of the window. The usual fancy reception area is bright with fluorescent lights held in extravagant chandeliers. There's even a few attendants in the lobby, despite the late hour.
I can't believe this is the last time I'll see this place, maybe forever.
I haven't lived here long, only started renting about a year ago. But there's something so nostalgic and warm about this place, it's become home to me. I'll be sad to leave it behind.
"Are you going to get out or just look at it?" Kenzo's harsh voice sounds from the driver's seat and I internally groan, I was enjoying the silence.
"Not gonna help me?" I say with a false shock. "Not surprised," I shrug. "Being a gentleman doesn't seem to be your thing,"
Before he can throw some annoying insult at me, I push open the door, stepping out. When the door closes, I don't even try to pretend like I'm not trying to get a look inside, get a glimpse of Kenzo Armani. But just my luck, the windows are blacked out.
Is that even legal?
It's so stupid, if what he said is true and I'll be living with him and mystery other's, I'll see him at some point. Whatever. I roll my eyes and saunter inside, subconsciously swaying my hips a little extra.
Upon entering my apartment, I double bolt the door like I normally do. If Kenzo wanted to come with, he should have been quicker. Plus, I need that security.
My apartment lights up when I flick the switch and I'm instantly hit with emotions I didn't realize I had. How is this even happening right now, like actually what is my life?
I drag myself up the stairs, grabbing a duffle and shoving loads of clothes into it. I have no clue where this safe house is so I pack outfits for all kinds of weather, although I silently hope it isn't too far away. Designer materials to Walmart t-shirts are flung into the bag, I don't even pay attention to what I grab.
Once that's over with, I stomp to the bathroom, scooping up my toiletries, skin care, and feminine products.
After a few minutes, my apartment looks like a tornado tore through it, with clothes and various items covering the floor. That pisses me off, I hate chaos.
I go to the weapons cabinet next, clearing out my rifle, a semiautomatic, another revolver similar to the one strapped on my thigh, multiple throwing knives, twin daggers, tasers, brass knuckles, pocket knives, a hunting knife, gloves, handcuffs, holsters, silencers, and ammo. I don't know how the duffle isn't bursting at the seams.
When I stand back up to take one last look around, I pause for a moment. It's weird cleaning out the place, I've only seen it barren one other time in my life, when I moved in. The other possessions will have to stay, sadly. But Dad said to only take what's necessary. My phone, charger, and wallet are already in the clutch I took clubbing.
For a split second, I think about running, using a back entrance to escape from Kenzo's clutches. But then what? I couldn't go back to Dad's, he'd just send me away again. I couldn't hold up here, the same thing would happen. Going to Amira's could put her in danger. And I can't go on the run alone, I trust my skills but if my family is really being targeted, I won't survive on my own. I need people in my corner.
Just before I'm ready to head back downstairs, I glance at one of the nightstands, the one with my family picture on it. Walking over, I pick up the picture and softly graze the pad of my thumb across Mom's figure.
I close my eyes. "Your death wasn't in vain, I promise." My voice is just above a whisper.
And with that, I toss the picture frame in my bag, slide a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from my dresser, and leave my apartment for the foreseeable future.
The Lexus is still parked outside, so I open the door and shove my duffle bag inside, sliding in and shutting the door with a thump.
"Took you long enough," Kenzo chimes in when I settle down.
"I'll be sure to go at a timely pace the next time I get kidnapped," I smile sweetly even if he can't see it.
"You aren't being kidnapped," He scoffs. "You're being saved. Now turn around, I need to blindfold you."
............................
Hello loves, how did you enjoy your first time meeting Kenzo Armani? I promise you'll know what he looks like soon.
Ugh, I'm having the most fun writing this book, I just feel like everything's flowing so well. Though, I promise I will have another chapter of The Heart of a Flame out soon, don't worry.