Chapter 21: A Critical Choice.

"Talon!" Ava’s voice cut through the tense silence, her sudden presence altering the dynamics of the room. As she stepped forward, her eyes never left Holts. The atmosphere shifted, the weight of her confidence breaking through the heavy cloud of danger that had settled over the encounter. "You didn’t think I was going to let you do this alone, did you?" she added, her voice carrying both reproach and camaraderie, her words a lifeline in the oppressive tension.

The room stilled as everyone turned their attention to her. Before anyone could react, a guard lunged in her direction, desperate to neutralize the threat. Ava moved swiftly, delivering a sharp, calculated headbutt that dropped the guard to the floor. His groan echoed through the silence.

Holts clapped slowly, the sound dripping with sarcasm. "The Blonde Death herself, in the flesh," he said, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and disdain. "You killed Goran in single combat, didn’t you? I’ve heard the stories. But one thing they never mention is just how beautiful you are."

Ava remained unfazed, her eyes cold and unwavering as she met his gaze. There was no flinch, no reaction to his words. She simply stood, her posture firm and unyielding, projecting a calm that unsettled the room.

Holts shifted in his chair, his smirk growing darker. "Tell me, Talon," he began, his eyes darting between his son and Ava. "Is this why you’ve clung to this Sentinel fantasy? With someone like her at your side, I wouldn’t want to leave either."

Talon’s fury ignited. He stepped closer, his voice low and tight with anger. "She’s more family to me than you’ll ever be."

Holts’ eyes gleamed with amusement, the smirk widening. "Ah, now we get to the stakes, don’t we, boy?" he said, his voice dropping into a darker, more dangerous tone. In a single fluid motion, he pulled a gun from his holster and aimed it squarely at Ava.

The room collectively held its breath.

Ava didn’t flinch. She met Holts’ gaze with unwavering steel, her expression colder than ice. Talon’s entire body tensed, his mind racing. His father’s cruelty was legendary, but this—this was personal.

Holts chuckled, his finger hovering over the trigger as he savored the moment. "You know, she doesn’t disappoint," he mused, his eyes flicking between Ava and Talon. "But I wonder… what made you so fearless, girl? Or is this just the way the Sentinels mold you—into little weapons?"

Talon’s breath hitched. His fists clenched at his sides, his anger and fear boiling beneath the surface. "Point the gun at me," he demanded, his voice barely concealing the fury and desperation. "She has nothing to do with this."

Holts turned the gun slightly, his focus shifting back to Talon. "Oh, no," he said, his voice low and sinister. "She has everything to do with this now." His eyes glittered with cruel amusement. "You see, Talon, this is your choice."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"You want Green Arbor protected? Fine. I’ll leave the town alone. But only if you choose. You can walk away now, go back to your pathetic life as a Sentinel, and let me kill her here." Holts’ eyes narrowed, the smile never leaving his face. "Or… you can take your rightful place by my side. Rejoin your family."

Talon’s heart pounded in his chest, every beat louder than the last. His breath caught in his throat, his mind spinning. **This isn’t fair. This isn’t a choice.**

"You have until this hand is finished," Holts said, nodding toward the poker table where the cards were still laid out, waiting for the next play.

The weight of the decision pressed down on Talon like a crushing force. His eyes flickered to Ava, standing unflinching in the face of death. Her calm only made the moment more unbearable.

"This isn’t fair," Talon muttered, his voice thick with emotion. His heart felt like it was being torn in two, each beat a reminder of the impossible situation his father had crafted.

Holts’ laugh was low, almost mocking. "Fair?" he repeated, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Life isn’t fair, boy. It’s a lesson I thought you would have learned by now."

Holts shuffled the deck with deliberate slowness, the cards slipping between his fingers like sand. The noise grated against Talon’s nerves, a maddening sound in the thick silence.

"Don’t worry, Talon," Ava’s voice broke through the fog of his thoughts. "We’re walking out of here."

Her words were calm, steady, but they carried the full weight of her belief. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t backing down. Talon felt a knot tighten in his chest. **She’s not giving me a choice. She’s not afraid.**

Holts chuckled again, clearly amused by Ava’s confidence. "Oh, girl," he drawled, his voice thick with condescension. "You are something else. If this works out, I’ll pay you a fortune to work for me. I could use a weapon like you."

Ava’s eyes remained fixed on him, her lips curling into a cold smile. "Don’t worry, you’re safe," she said, her voice steady and lethal. "You’re not mine to kill." Her gaze flicked to the other men in the room. "But the rest of them? I can’t promise anything."

For the first time, Holts’ smirk faltered. The bravado he’d worn like a mask cracked for a brief moment, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

"You’re impressive," Holts mused, his tone hardening once more. "If only you were my daughter. What a pair we could have been."

The room grew colder, the tension thickening like a noose around Talon’s neck. He could feel the weight of his father’s expectations, the impossible choice that had been laid before him. His heart raced, and his breath came in shallow gasps. **I can’t… I can’t let him hurt her. I can’t…**

Ava’s voice cut through the suffocating tension again, her eyes still fixed on Holts. "You’re my brother, Talon. Whatever you choose, that won’t change."

Holts scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "How touching," he sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Say goodbye to your sister, Talon."

The threat hit like a physical blow. Time seemed to slow as Holts’ finger hovered over the trigger, the decision poised to fall. Every muscle in Talon’s body screamed for him to act, to stop this nightmare from becoming reality. His pulse thundered in his ears, his vision narrowing as all he could see was the gun, the target, the cold gleam in his father’s eyes.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"No!" Talon roared, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He lunged at Holts, knocking the gun aside just as it fired. The bullet whizzed past, harmlessly embedding itself into the ceiling.

Ava reacted instantly, her pistols already drawn. In a flash, she rolled backward, dodging the sudden chaos and firing off shots with deadly precision. The room erupted into pandemonium, the guards scrambling to respond but falling quickly to Ava’s relentless barrage.

Holts and Talon crashed into a nearby table, sending poker chips flying. The struggle was fierce, years of unspoken rage pouring into every punch, every grappling move. Talon’s hands burned as he fought to disarm his father, their snarled curses barely audible over the gunfire and screams.

"You think you can stop me?" Holts spat, his teeth bared as they wrestled for control of the gun. "You’re still just that scared little boy!"

Talon gritted his teeth, his voice a growl. "I’m not your son anymore."

With one final wrench, Talon ripped the gun from Holts’ grasp and pressed it against his father’s forehead, the cold metal biting into his skin.

"Your life for Green Arbor," Talon demanded, his voice shaking with fury.

Holts stared up at him, his expression a mixture of defiance and disbelief. He chuckled darkly, his voice low. "You won’t do it."

Talon’s hand trembled, the weight of the moment bearing down on him. His father’s sneer, the years of cruelty, everything pressed into this single moment.

"For my family," Talon said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them, "I would do anything."

Holts’ laughter echoed in the small room, low and bitter. Even with the cold steel of the gun pressed to his forehead, the smirk didn’t leave his face. "You think you can kill me? You don’t have the stomach for it, Talon. You never did."

Talon’s hand trembled slightly, the weight of the gun heavy in his grip. His father’s voice, the venom in his words, pulled at the deepest, darkest parts of him—parts he had spent years trying to bury. **No, I’m not like him. I’m not.** But the doubt gnawed at him. His father had molded him into this, into a killer. And now here he was, standing on the edge of that abyss again.

"You don’t have to do this," Ava’s voice came from behind him, soft but insistent, cutting through the haze clouding his thoughts. "We’re getting out of here."

Holts’ chuckle was dark, almost mocking. "Out of here? Oh, no, you don’t get to just walk away, girl. Not without making a deal."

Talon’s heart hammered in his chest as his father’s gaze shifted to Ava, cold calculation flickering in his eyes. "I’ll make it simple, Talon," Holts continued, his voice dripping with malice. "You leave Green Arbor. Take your little Sentinel family and vanish. And I’ll spare them."

Talon’s breath hitched. His finger twitched on the trigger, but Holts wasn’t done.

"Or," Holts said, his voice growing colder, "you can stay with your little town, your little group of do-gooders. And I’ll make sure every single one of them burns." His smile widened, showing teeth. "Starting with her."

Holts gestured slightly toward Ava with his chin, his gaze never leaving Talon’s. The threat was clear, his intent unmistakable.

Talon’s chest tightened. Every word his father spoke was designed to hurt, to twist the knife in deeper. His hand shook as he pressed the gun harder against Holts’ forehead. "You’re lying," Talon muttered, his voice raw. "Even if I leave, you won’t stop."

Holts chuckled again, the sound low and menacing. "Maybe not. But at least you’d be out of the way." His eyes gleamed with malice. "You’re weak, Talon. And you’ve always been weak. That’s why you ran away, isn’t it? You couldn’t handle the pressure. You were never strong enough to stand by me."

The words hit like a punch to Talon’s gut, but then—Ava’s voice again, strong and unyielding. "You’re stronger than him," she said, her voice cutting through the fog. "You always have been."

Talon’s eyes flicked to Ava for the briefest moment. She stood there, unwavering, her eyes locked on his father, her hand resting near her weapon, ready for anything. Her confidence in him, her belief that he could choose the right path, anchored him.

Holts must have noticed the flicker of doubt fade from Talon’s eyes, because his expression darkened. "Don’t listen to her, boy. She’s the reason you’re weak. She’s made you soft."

Talon’s breath hitched again, his heart pounding in his chest. His father’s voice was like poison, twisting his thoughts, making him doubt himself. **Am I weak? Is he right?**

But then Ava spoke again, firm, resolute. "You’re not weak, Talon. You’ve made your choice. Now let’s go home."

Talon’s grip on the gun tightened for a moment longer. Holts sneered up at him, daring him to pull the trigger, to cross that line. But Talon knew—if he killed his father now, he would become him. He would be walking straight into the darkness his father had always wanted him to embrace.

Slowly, Talon lowered the gun.

Holts’ eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the smirk quickly returned to his face. "That’s right, boy," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You don’t have the guts."

Talon stepped back, the gun still in his hand, but the moment had passed. He had made his choice. "No," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with conviction. "I’m not like you."

Holts sneered again, his voice cold and calculating. "You think you’ve won something here? You think I’ll leave Green Arbor alone just because you’re too scared to pull the trigger?"

Talon met his father’s gaze, his eyes hard. "You’ll stay away from Green Arbor," he said firmly, his voice low but full of steel. "If you come near that town again, I will hunt you down. And I won’t hesitate next time."

For a long moment, Holts stared at his son, the sneer slowly fading from his face. Then, with a small, dark chuckle, he nodded slightly. "You’ve grown up, Talon. But you’ll always be my son."

Talon didn’t respond. He turned and walked toward Ava, his footsteps steady, his resolve unshaken.

"Let’s go," he said, his voice low but certain.

Ava gave him a nod, her eyes scanning the room as she reloaded her pistols. "I’ve got your back," she said, her voice steady and full of the confidence Talon needed right now.

As they moved toward the exit, the tension in the air snapped like a coiled spring. The sound of footsteps echoed behind them—a guard had regained his footing, gun raised, eyes filled with intent.

Ava reacted instantly, her pistols drawn. She fired, but this time, the guard dodged. Before Talon could react, more guards flooded into the room from the adjoining hallway, weapons drawn. The situation escalated in a heartbeat.

"Move!" Ava shouted, flipping the table for cover as a barrage of gunfire filled the air. They returned fire, Talon’s suppressed anger fueling his every shot as he took down one guard after another.

Holts stood in the center of the chaos, watching with cruel satisfaction. "Tell the mayor I’m coming for him!" he shouted above the gunfire, his voice ringing out like a death sentence.

Talon’s heart raced. **The mayor... of course.** The betrayal hit him all over again, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. They had to get out—now.

Ava moved with fluid precision, her pistols blazing as she took out two more guards, the blasts deafening in the small space. Talon kept close, using the overturned table for cover as they pushed toward the exit.

Holts’ men were everywhere, the hallways filled with the clash of metal and the crack of gunfire. Talon and Ava fought fiercely, their movements coordinated as if they had practiced this a hundred times before. Every step they took was met with resistance, but they fought their way through, pushing toward the door.

One guard lunged at Talon, tackling him to the ground. They wrestled, fists flying in a brutal exchange of blows. Talon grunted as the man’s fist connected with his jaw, but he retaliated with a sharp elbow to the guard’s ribs, rolling him off and slamming his head into the floor.

"Go!" Ava shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. She had taken down another guard, her breathing heavy but controlled, her focus razor-sharp.

Talon got to his feet, wiping the blood from his lip. "Right behind you."

They burst through the door, the cool night air hitting them like a shock to the system. But they didn’t stop. More guards were coming, and they had to move.

They sprinted through the shadowed alleyways, their boots pounding against the pavement as gunfire echoed in the distance behind them. Every breath Talon took burned in his lungs, but he pushed through, driven by the need to escape, to protect Ava and the town they both called home.

As they reached the edge of the city, Ava slowed, her eyes scanning their surroundings. The sounds of pursuit were fading, but they weren’t safe yet.

"That was close," she said breathlessly, holstering her pistols as they disappeared into the cover of the trees.

Talon nodded, his mind still buzzing with everything that had happened. "Too close," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the city they had just escaped from.

Holts’ final words rang in his ears. **The mayor. He’s working with Holts.** The thought sickened him, but they were alive. For now, that was enough.

Ava placed a hand on his arm, grounding him in the moment. "You did good, Talon. Let’s get home."