After listening to his commands and instructions, the twenty men of Basement One started to move in silent precision.
They moved with purpose, not one move wasted as they pocketed their folded knives, daggers, firearms, coiled wires, and tasers—neatly hidden under their black jackets, inside their waistbands, and in their boots.
Their low voices hummed in the busyness, sending instructions and explanations to other Basements closest to them. All eyes of Area Central 01 would be looking for Celeste Everhart.
Among them, Wouter and Jade busied themselves with the same agility, silently preparing themselves with the same attire.
Avond, on the other hand, was still in his evening attire, and all he needed to do was exchange the blood-stained T-shirt for a fresh one.
"Don't worry, we'll find her," Wouter said, slipping a dagger into the side of his high black boots. He looked at Avond with equally tired eyes, his face pale, but unlike him, he was calmer and more assured.
"I know we will. But what then is my question," Avond said, feeling a headache coming on.
"What do you mean? What then? We send her back to the Everharts," Wouter answered, almost as a matter of fact.
Avond sighed. "She ran away because of my brother."
"And? What does that have anything to do with us? With you? She agreed to something; now she has to follow through," Wouter answered, frowning as if he were explaining a simple concept Avond was supposed to know.
"I… understand," Avond said. He could hear the understanding and rejection of said fact in his voice.
For a few seconds, the two men looked at each other in silent conversation. The men's movement slowly disappeared around them as they all left, leaving the trio—Avond, Wouter, and Jade—in silence.
Wouter shook his head, the silent words hanging in the air: She's not your responsibility.
He turned around and beckoned Jade to follow him. Jade followed, throwing Avond an apologetic look.
Yes. Indeed. She was not his responsibility, Avond told himself as he left the basement and found himself on his motorbike, his blue helmet concealing the hardness of his expression.
He would find her. He would return her to her family. He would turn around and never look back. She wasn't his to worry about.
But as he tried to convince himself of that, something inside him disagreed.
Avond started the engine when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Irritated, Avond snapped, "What?!"
"I guess I'm not the only one pissed at Celeste," Tiel answered a tinge of amusement in his voice.
Avond sighed. "What do you want? I'm busy."
"I know you are, dear brother, but don't you worry. I'm sending my own men to look for her," Tiel said, followed by sounds of preparation and ruckus as his men moved behind him, drowning his words.
"That's not necessary. I'll find her soon enough."
"Always so confident. But she's my bride, and I need to make sure she understands not to humiliate me like this again."
"Humiliate you? You should be happy. If anything, this just solidifies your reputation as a bloodthirsty monster. I mean, who wouldn't run away from you?" Avond said, meaning for it to sound like an insult, but instead, he just sounded tired and disappointed in his little brother.
Tiel snorted. "It's not my fault! I was just being helpful to her, and the b**** can't handle a little squeeze!"
"A little squeeze?" Avond demanded, knowing well what he saw. He turned on his earpiece, letting his brother talk as he started to move on the street.
"Yes, a little squeeze," Tiel doubled down.
"Alright. A little squeeze for what, do tell," Avond asked, his eyes darting quickly from side to side as he revved the motorcycle, at the same time trying his best to avoid any accidents.
"Well… if you haven't noticed, she can't speak. She's mute, so I thought I'd motivate her to make a sound here or there. She misunderstood my good intentions," Tiel answered, sounding genuinely offended. Avond couldn't tell whether his brother was pretending not to know and was just being cruel, or if he was just ignorant and cruel.
Avond sighed. "She didn't misunderstand you. She knows exactly what you're trying to do, but that's not going to help her. Educate yourself—it's called psychogenic mutism. What you're doing made it worse. I know it."
"She told you this?" Tiel asked, perplexed.
"No. I read about it. You were a lot younger back then, but I was old enough to hear about what happened," Avond said, wondering if there would ever be a time in Tiel's life when he didn't jump to violence. Then maybe Celeste wouldn't have had to run away.
"Alright… are you… going to tell me what happened?"
"No," Avond said flatly. "Why should I tell you anything? If I tell you everything, you'll never learn. If you just kept your hands to yourself, Celeste wouldn't have run away."
"Are you saying this is my fault?!"
"I am saying it is most definitely YOUR fault!" Avond yelled in his helmet. "You should know by now how much power you have in your fists alone! Why did you think I had to buy Jade from you?! YOU never listen, you don't learn, you don't care!"
"Stop! Stop! Not even my mother nags me like that. This is why I never call you—I don't want to hear an earful every time," Tiel retorted, matching his energy.
"Well, maybe if you stopped calling me only when there's a problem to solve, you'd have the chance to hear another side of me," Avond shot back, hearing a series of colorful words on the other side before the call cut-off. Typical Tiel, losing his temper and then ending the call. He hated it most when someone talked back in an argument.
Avond swallowed bitterly when the memory of Jordan and Mina Everhart explaining that Celeste was a better candidate than Orion resurfaced. As long as Celeste didn't talk back, Tiel wouldn't lay his hands on her. He had a bad temper; he just chose not to control it and decided he didn't care how heavy his hands were.
Orion would end up in a hospital within a week.
Celeste… well, Celeste… Avond swallowed. He couldn't bring himself to think about it anymore.