Snowbird [18+] ✔️ Complete

| XXI |

"You have to hide." Vaas all but tore the rope from Ashelin's neck and threw a set of his clothes at her. "Run."

Her heart pounded in her ears. "What?"

"Go!" he screamed, voice maniacal. "Fucking run!"

She quickly threw on the tank top but left the pants—they were too big anyway. "Where?" An icy hand gripped her chest. He looked afraid, terrified, and she didn't like that expression on him.

"Anywhere! Stay out of sight!" He dragged her out the door and shoved her in the opposite direction of where the chopper landed.

She clawed at his arm. "Where are you going?"

He backhanded her with enough force to bruise. "Obey me, hermana." He grasped her shoulders and looked at her, eyes wild in the dim light. Her heart caught in her throat and thumped against her ribcage when he leaned down and crushed her mouth with his.

It was a short, rough, desperate kiss and when he threw her away from him, she was lightheaded. She stumbled and stared at him, hand subconsciously straying to her mouth. He'd never kissed her before.

"Go!" he screamed madly, and she turned and sprinted into the darkness. He stared after her for a moment and then sauntered off towards the helicopter. He focused on masking his guilt with his usual confident swagger.

Ashelin darted into the trees, thankful Vaas' shirt was long enough to protect her bits from the foliage. Her bare feet pounded the dirt, and when she was out of sight from the huts and firelight, she slowed to catch her breath.

She could hear the chopper blades dying down in the distance. Her curiosity burned. He'd told her to stay out of sight, but she was good at sneaking around. Maybe she could figure out what was going on from the shadows.

She turned to navigate a path skirting the village, and ran straight into a brick wall of a human being.

"Gotcha."

She'd fought valiantly, but Ashelin had been no match for Archon's terminator like body. He bound her hands behind her and carried her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder back into the settlement.

She didn't scream or struggle. Vaas had told her to stay out of sight, and she wasn't sure if Archon was trying to help hide her or not. She didn't want to draw attention to herself.

When he stepped through the door of Earnhardt's hut and threw her down on a stool, she was quite certain he wasn't trying to hide her.

Grant Brody sat up in his bed and stared daggers at her. A well dressed businessman stood next to him, and the good doctor sat nervously behind him, trying not to look at her.

"I take it this is her?" the businessman asked in a South African drawl.

Grant's eyes blazed. "That's the bitch that killed my brother."

"Good." The businessman drew a gun in a fluid motion and shot Grant in the temple.

Ashelin jumped, and Earnhardt shot to his feet.

"What the fuck?!" the older man cried, hands shaking.

"He was too damaged for any real revenue." The businessman motioned to Ashelin with his gun. "You, however, are a prime revenue stream. A triple-A cash cow. Miss Clarke." He enunciated her name meticulously and she shivered.

She raised her chin in defiance. "Who are you?"

"Oh, did Vaas never mention me?" came the sarcastic reply. "I'm Hoyt Volker, his employer. And let me tell you I'm not terribly happy with his performance."

The man oozed danger and set Ashelin's body on edge. She practically vibrated with anxiety.

"He tried to hide you from me, keep you for himself," Hoyt continued, motioning with the gun. "But I hear everything. And I hear you've become rather... attached."

"Are you..." Her voice broke and she cleared her throat to cover it. "Are you going to kill him?"

"I haven't decided yet." He tapped the barrel to his temple. "But you should be more concerned with yourself, dear. You've already made me a shitload of money." He grinned. "And since I already have it, I think you can take a little bit of a beating before you're shipped off to your new home."

Ashelin pursed her lips and glared at him. "Bring it."