Chapter 32: Uncomfortable Alliances.
The tension briefly subsides as Sarah and Eli emerge from the bedroom, Eli cautiously asking, “Is it safe now?”
Holts, ever the provocateur, chirps from the couch, “Yes, we’re all friends here. Come join us. Who wants to hear tales of little Talon?”
Ignoring him, Sarah tugs at Talon’s sleeve, her expression grave. “We need to talk,” she says, pulling him towards his room. As they disappear behind the door, Holts smirks and makes a jab at Ava. “Oh, that’s his girl? I thought you two—”
Ava cuts him off sharply, her voice carrying a cold edge. “He’s like a brother to me. And that’s none of your business.”
Holts chuckles, unphased by her rising anger, and nods toward Eli. “And him? Must be tough, knowing you two live here alone.”
Ava steps forward, her fist clenched, her face betraying the violence she’s barely restraining. “One more vile word and I’ll make sure you never speak again,” she threatens, her voice quiet but deadly.
Holts raises his hands in mock surrender, his smirk widening. “Okay, okay. Relax.”
Sarah reemerges from the bedroom, frustration written across her face as she hastily grabs her coat and hat. “I’m not staying here with all this madness,” she declares, her voice tight, casting a glance at Talon as if the entire situation was spiraling out of control.
Ava watches her with narrowed eyes, concern flashing briefly in her expression before she speaks softly. “Eli, go with her, please. It’s not far, but the storm’s still fierce.” Her words are more a command than a suggestion.
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Sarah pauses at the door, turning back with a sharp look at Ava. “You two are made for each other,” she says sarcastically, stepping into the blizzard swirling outside. Eli gives Ava a quiet nod before following Sarah, the door shutting behind them with a soft thud.
Holts chuckles darkly at their departure. “Well, there goes the only good thing in this place, i don't think she likes me son.”
Talon, his patience wearing thin, glares at Holts. “It’s okay, Ava. He’s trying to get under our skin. Don’t bite.”
Ava’s hand twitches near her holstered weapon, her lips curling into a dangerous smirk. “I’ve got a bag in my room, Holts. Fits a head perfectly.”
Holts, for the first time, lets a flicker of unease cross his face before he quickly hides it behind a mask of bravado. “You two really have that killer instinct. The Syndicate missed out, didn’t they?”
Talon interrupts before the tension escalates further. “Let’s gear up. It’s going to be a long day.” He moves methodically, laying out weapons and equipment on the table, the sound of metal and leather cutting through the stillness.
Ava joins him, her sword unsheathed as she sharpens it with slow, deliberate strokes, her eyes fixed on Holts, watching him like a predator eyeing prey. Holts leans back, clearly aware that any sudden move could trigger a deadly response.
“Not much longer now, and we’ll move out. We’ll take one of the new vehicles from Sentinel command, from the last supply drop off” Talon mutters, running his thumb along the blade of a knife to test its sharpness.
Ava nods, her tone low. “Sounds like a plan.”
Holts, watching them work with a keen, calculating gaze, leans forward slightly. “Imagine if she was my daughter too. The three of us together? I could run the Syndicate easily. You two would be unstoppable.”
Ava and Talon exchange a look, their faces hardening. The weight of their begrudging alliance with Holts, their shared history, and the looming threat hangs like a shadow over the room. The storm outside howls, echoing the silent, volatile storm brewing inside as they ready themselves for what’s coming.
Holts breaks the silence with a soft laugh, the sound grating against the dark atmosphere. “This is going to be fun.”
Ava sheathes her sword with a final, deliberate snap. “Not for you,” she says coldly, her eyes burning with a barely contained rage that promises violence.