8
LOGAN
Caleb leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he takes a swig from his beer. “Alright, everyone listen up! We have a new recruit in the house and I think it’s high time we toast to Sloane!”
He sets down his drink as he gets to his feet, gesturing dramatically with his arms. “As our traditional welcoming gift, I propose everyone takes a drink. Let’s tone it down before the sun gets to us again!” He grins, laughter bubbling up from the others.
Eli looks up from where he's seated, offering a small smile but not quite making eye contact. “A toast sounds good,” he murmurs, his voice calm and steady, as always.
Ryker leans against the wall, arms crossed, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Just make sure it’s something worth drinking to, Caleb. Can’t afford to have her think we’re all a bunch of amateurs.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m a professional amateur!” Caleb fires back with a laugh. “Just watch and learn.”
Sloane chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. “Just promise you won’t make me sing. I’d prefer to remain incognito tonight!"
“Deal!” Caleb responds, genuinely pleased with the exchange. “But no promises on my ‘award-winning’ performance by the end of the night.”
Asa, who had been quietly observing, finally chimes in, a faint smirk on his lips behind his glasses. “Karaoke? Count me out. I would rather not contribute to the night’s potential trauma.”
Caleb laughs, giving Asa a mock salute. “You’re no fun, Asa! But if anyone can save the karaoke night, it’ll be me—just you wait!”
Knox, who has been mostly silent, merely nods in agreement with Eli, the faintest hint of amusement in his stoic demeanor.
Caleb pours shots for everyone, and the atmosphere fills with a mix of warmth and excitement. “Here’s to fresh starts!” he declares, holding his glass high. “And to Sloane, may you never find yourself on the wrong end of a goat chase or caught up with anyone crazier than us!”
As laughter and camaraderie envelop the room, I lean against the chair, watching them, a half-empty glass in my hand.
The alcohol burns as it slides down my throat, a welcome distraction from the memories lurking just beneath the surface.
My gaze keeps drifting to Sloane, despite my best efforts to focus elsewhere. Her laughter, her presence, it all pulls me in a way I’m not ready to admit.
“Come on, Boss! Join us!” Caleb calls out, his blond hair catching the light.
He’s got that signature cocky grin, the one that always lightens the atmosphere. “We’re celebrating not freezing to death on our first night with the new recruit!”
I shake my head, the warmth of their shared joy contrasting sharply with the chill that lingers in my bones. “I’m not much for celebrating.”
“Liar,” he shoots back. “You’d miss the chance to toast to Sloane Carter?”
Sloane chuckles softly, taking a sip of her drink while meeting my gaze. It’s an invitation, a challenge; I can feel the weight of her presence, an intensity that stirs memories, half-forgotten and raw.
After one more drink and playful teasing, the room starts to blur, the laughter turning into a warm haze mingling with the whiskey.
I know I should stay, but the energy inside feels overwhelming, suffocating under the weight of the past. I need to breathe.
I push off the chair and head toward the door.
“Where you going, tough guy?” Caleb calls after me, his concern hidden behind a teasing tone. But I don’t look back.
"Just getting some air."
I step outside, the chill of night air hitting my skin, grounding me.
The woods around Iron Hollow whisper secrets; shadows shift in the moonlight.
I can almost hear the echoes of the past—the mission that went wrong, the faces I couldn’t save. I rub my knucklesabsentmindedly, feeling the rawness of my skin, reminding me of my last training session.
A soft footfall behind me makes me turn. It’s Sloane, her silhouette framed by the dim light from inside. She steps closer, her hazel eyes flicking to my face.
