Chapter 35: A Vengeance Unleashed.
The jeep rumbled forward, the heavy snowfall doing little to silence the world as Ava and Talon barreled through what was left of Holts’ guards. The chaos of gunfire, splintering wood, and shattering glass felt strangely familiar, almost comforting. Ava’s rifle barked in rhythmic bursts, her shots dead-on as she cleared a path. One guard’s head exploded into a red mist against the windshield, and Ava calmly flipped on the wipers.
"Thanks for the clear view," she quipped, glancing at Talon.
He let out a barking laugh, shifting gears and sending the jeep hurtling into another cluster of guards. "I told you these guys wouldn’t be much," he said, eyes locked on the road ahead. "Still not giving you my chicken recipe, though."
Ava let out a mock groan, ducking back inside the jeep to reload her rifle. "Come on, Talon, we might not make it to the tavern tonight. Least you can do is give me the damn recipe."
Talon’s grin was wicked as he jammed the jeep into a hard turn, sending one guard flying. "Oh, we’ll make it... just maybe not in one piece," he said, his voice dripping with dark humor. "And I’m taking my chicken recipe to the grave."
"Looks like that might be sooner than later, at this rate," Ava muttered, picking off two more guards as they tumbled into the snowbanks. She slid another magazine into her rifle, eyes gleaming with anticipation. The violence felt natural, like a second skin, and every crack of gunfire was a melody she could move to.
Talon chuckled. "If I die, bury me with my knife. You can have everything else."
"I’ll think about it," Ava retorted, squeezing off another shot, hitting a man square in the chest and sending him tumbling into a pile of crates.
They barreled forward until they spotted a figure limping away from the chaos—a man clutching his side, blood dripping in a steady stream onto the pristine snow. Ava’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the wound. "Sarah got him," she said coldly.
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Talon’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel harder, slamming the jeep to a stop. "He’s mine," Talon growled, vaulting out of the vehicle before Ava could say anything.
She knew better than to interfere.
Talon marched toward the limping man, eyes locked on him like a predator. The man tried to run, but his legs gave out, sending him crumpling to the ground. Talon caught up in seconds, grabbing the man by the collar and hurling him face-first into the snow.
"You remember Sarah, don’t you?" Talon’s voice was dark, every word laced with venom.
The man coughed, trying to crawl away, but Talon stomped down on his back, grinding him into the frozen earth. "She died because of you," Talon snarled, grabbing the man by the hair and slamming his face into the snow again.
Ava watched from the jeep, her rifle resting on her lap as she kept an eye out for any remaining guards. She knew Talon needed this moment, needed to let the rage out. She had her own darkness to deal with, but for now, she’d let him burn his fury into the ground.
The man screamed as Talon’s fists connected with his jaw, shattering it with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed across the snow, turning the white landscape into a crimson mess. "You took her from me!" Talon shouted, raining down punches. "You... took... her!"
With one final slam, Talon released the man’s broken body, breathing hard, the rage still coursing through him. He stood over the lifeless form, his chest heaving, his breath visible in the cold air.
Ava glanced over at him. "Feel better?" she asked, her tone calm as ever, though she knew the answer.
"Not yet," Talon muttered, wiping the blood off his hands.
They turned their attention to the building ahead—the hideout. Thin smoke curled from the chimney, and they both knew what awaited inside.
Holts.
Ava grinned darkly as she planted an explosive charge under the jeep’s rear wheel. "Let’s blow some stuff up on our way out."
"Nice touch," Talon said, his smile returning, though the grief still lingered in his eyes. He glanced toward Ava, his voice tinged with forced lightness. "So, Blondie, think we’ll get to the tavern after this?"
Ava chuckled, checking her weapon. "Doubt it. But hey, maybe we’ll grab a drink off Holts’ dead body."
"Here’s hoping," Talon replied, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes.
They approached the building, weapons at the ready. The door loomed ahead, a final barrier between them and the vengeance they so desperately sought.
"Ready?" Talon asked, his voice low, the tension thick in the air.
"Always," Ava replied, her rifle shouldered and at the ready.
With a nod, they kicked the door in, stepping into the lion’s den, ready to face Holts and whatever other horrors awaited inside. The storm outside had ended, but the storm within them was far from over.