AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Outside, sirens wailed—a serenade to the madness. I scooped up the box of memories from my closet and clutched it like a lifeline. The past felt heavy in my hands, but compared to the present, it was a featherweight.
"Time to go, Averill."
"Lead the way, Gandalf. Where's your secret fortress anyway?"
Ansel's fingers dug into my arm, not hard enough to hurt, but with an urgency that matched the pounding of my heart. We were moving, and I was trying to get my head around what I'd just seen—the smoke, their eyes...it was like something out of a comic book.
"Can you do that mind-whammy thing all day, or is there a battery life on your mojo?" My voice was edged with acid as we slipped past the frozen SWAT team, their guns now idle in their hands.
"Let's not test it," he grunted, his jaw set in concentration. It was clear the effort was taxing him; veins stood out on his temples, sweat beaded on his forehead. I could see the strain in his eyes, a stormy sea about to break its banks.
"Shit, this is bad," I muttered under my breath. "If you pass out, I'm not hauling your ass anywhere."
"Appreciated," Ansel said through gritted teeth. His words were short, clipped by the effort of keeping the green-eyed zombies at bay. The air crackled around us with an unseen energy, and I couldn't help but wonder if there was a countdown ticking away somewhere. We finally reached the lobby door, and Ansel shoved it open.
"Car's this way," he nodded towards a nondescript sedan parked haphazardly on the curb. The night was a blur of streetlights and the sheen of wet asphalt.
"Got it. Five-star getaway car. Very inconspicuous," We darted across the street and dodged puddles that looked deep enough to swallow us whole.
"Stay close," he ordered, but I wasn't planning on making a solo run for it—not yet anyway.
"Trust me, no one's more surprised than me that I'm sticking to you like glue," I replied, half-laughing, half-wondering if I'd actually survive the night without going full psycho. Adrenaline surged through my veins and pushed me forward, but fear clung to me, whispering every possible scenario where this went south.
"Here." He fumbled for keys and unlocked the car. I slid into the passenger seat, soaked and shivering, while he took the driver's side. Ansel's profile was etched against the glow of the dashboard, shadows playing across his handsome features.
"Okay, Gandalf," I tried to steady my voice. "You've got the magic stick. Now what?"
"Drive." He answered simply. The engine roared to life, and we peeled away from the curb, leaving behind the eerie green-eyed officers, temporarily suspended in time—or whatever witchcraft Ansel had conjured.
"Thanks, by the way," I managed a glance at him. There was something between us, some kind of electric charge that wasn't just from his supernatural party tricks. "For the save."
"I meant what I said, Averill. Stick with me."
The town car was a sleek shadow against the rain-slicked street, an oasis of calm in a desert of chaos. I clutched the box of childhood memories like it was a lifeline, the walls softened from years of hiding in the back of my closet, each dent and tear a testament to a past that seemed both distant and painfully close at the same time.
But the illusion shattered when a staccato beat of gunfire echoed in the distance, the direction we'd just come from. My body tensed, every muscle coiling like a spring, but Ansel... he didn't even flinch.
"Jesus, Ansel, what the hell was that?" I demanded, staring wide-eyed at him.
"Needed to be done," he replied with a grimace, his gaze fixed on some unseen point beyond the car window. "They would've never stopped coming. My father...he doesn’t know how to let go."
"Your father?" I echoed, my mind racing. The box on my lap suddenly felt heavier. "What does he have to do with?—"
"Later," Ansel cut me off. "At the mansion. It's the only safe place now. Trust me, Averill," Ansel turned to look at me, his eyes searching mine for understanding.
"Trust is earned, not given," The heat of my anger had cooled, replaced by a gnawing curiosity. "And you're gonna owe me one hell of an explanation."
My heart still hammered from the close call, but there was something about Ansel's presence that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I wasn't in this fight alone.
"Hey, think we can make a pit stop first?" I asked, a sardonic twist to my lips. "There's a guy I need to apologize to for borrowing his car. Without, you know, asking."
Chapter
Thirteen
The patter against windows of Ansel's high-tech mansion was a private drumline to our awkward symphony. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Then again, with Kylo’s mood, it felt like there were enough knives to go around. We were perched around a sleek, obsidian meeting table that probably cost more than my entire life. Me, Kylo, and Ansel—three people with too many secrets and not enough trust.
"Feels like déjà vu, doesn't it?" I tried to slice through the tension with a bit of sarcasm. My voice echoed slightly in the cavernous space and bounced off the cold, modern lines. I caught Ansel's eye, his face as unreadable as one of those ancient stone statues. Rich boy had layers, and I wasn't just talking about his tailored clothes.
