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Bastian turns to face us. “It’s now or never,” he says. “Let’s go get the weapons. We’ll load ‘em up in the Firebird’s trunk and head out.”
We follow Bastian out the door, too focused on the mission to say goodbye to Sienna. I think none of us want to say goodbye anyway, for fear of the goodbye being permanent.
The bike shop's air is thick with dust and the faint smell of motor oil. Sunlight filters through grimy windows, contrasting with the somber mood inside. Bastian, Caleb, and I move quickly as we start loading the weapons into the Firebird.
“Pass me that crate, Dom,” Caleb grunts, wiping sweat from his brow.
I nod, grabbing a heavy wooden crate. The rough texture of the wooden handles grounds me amidst the chaos. With a heave, I carry it towards the Firebird.
Metal clangs against metal as we load the crates into the trunk, punctuating the tense silence between us. Outside, traffic hums in the distance, contrasting with the quiet intensity inside. The sunlight streams through the windows, casting eerie shadows.
“We're gonna need more ammo,” Bastian mutters, his jaw set in determination.
“Yeah, we can't risk running out,” Caleb agrees, his expression grim.
“We have a stash of weapons in the office,” I say, boots making soft thuds on the shop floor as I head inside the tiny room, reaching under the rickety metal desk to pull out a box of street weapons.
Lugging it back out, I show it to Bastian. “Had some of the neighborhood kids bring me their baseball bats and shit, stuff that we can use as makeshift weapons. Hell, I think there’s a Skip-it in here somewhere.”
“That thing will clock someone in the face nicely,” Bastian agrees, sticking the box in the backseat.
As we close the trunk, the weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders. With a final glance around the shop, we prepare for the battle ahead, knowing our town's fate hangs in the balance.
“Let’s go kick some Serpent ass,” Bastian says, narrowing his eyes and squaring his jaw. We take off, heading into the unknown.
42
SIENNA
Iwake in an empty bed, the chill enveloping me as I come to. The boys are downstairs and I hear them arguing about something. Creeping to the edge of the staircase, I move as quietly as I can to hear what they’re saying.
The conversation gets louder when Bastian takes a call and I hear someone on the other end, telling them that the Serpents are on their way into town, spoiling for a fight. Anxiety spikes inside me, realizing that the storm that’s been brewing has finally come.
“Who’s going to stay with Sienna then?” Bastian yells. “One of us has to stay behind.”
My hand flies to my mouth, trying to contain my gasp. They’re arguing about who has to stay with me. I don’t know if I should say something, but I realize that even if I did, it would be useless. I can’t stop them from going, and I can’t change their minds.
The only thing I can do is protect them in the only way I know how. I have to confront Dr. Thornton and find out the truth, once and for all. I know he was involved with the closing of the Haven Center, I just can’t figure out how, or why.
But those boys suffered enough losing Emily, I won’t have them longing for what could have been with a man who might have done something terrible.
Now is the best time to go talk to him. The boys are busy with their fight and talking to Dr. Thornton would keep my mind off of worrying about them. I should go now, while they’re distracted from arguing over who’s going to stay with me.
I quickly get dressed and sneak down the stairs again, holding my breath as I pass the kitchen. They don’t notice me, too busy discussing the situation.
Grabbing my keys from the holder by the front door, I slip out and race over to my car, taking off before they can notice I’m gone.
I leave my phone on silent, praying that the boys won’t know I’m gone. I just need to talk to Dr. Thornton and get some answers, if not for my own curiosity, then for the sake of Bastian, Dominic, and Caleb.
It’s too early for him to be at the school so I decide to go to his house, hoping to catch him before he can leave. When I pull up, I notice his car is still in the driveway.
Steeling myself, I head up to his house. The porch is cast in shadows and I raise my hand, ringing the bell with a shaking finger.
Dr. Thornton answers the door, confusion on his face. “What are you doing here, Sienna?” he asks.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, fidgeting with my fingers. “Can I come in?”
Dr. Thornton glances around then pushes the door open and waves a hand for me to enter. “Fine, but make it quick. I’ve got class soon.”
