It was not uncommon for a professional and necessary bender following the month-long round trip from Maker to Canyon Spring. Aust always told her it was a necessary requirement for facing death. He had a nasty habit of doing that - justifying his addiction and bad habits in a way that was hard to argue. With each passing bender, Portia was starting to grow more certain that Aust was not celebrating returning with his life. He was attempting to drown out the disdain he felt for making it home. He had been that way, since his mother’s death. Until he was ready to face that choir, Portia followed along allowing him to self indulge. At least this time, he had taken her to a proper dinner before steering them to his favorite dive bar.

  “Another is here,” Hart said, joining her at the standing table. He was a squat man roughly as tall, if not a little shorter than her, him and Aust had been childhood friends. So in turn, they had become the same. He placed another round of drinks on the table for the two of them. A lighter clicked and he offered it and a cigarette to her. She ignored his offer. “Not at that time of night yet are we?” He looked lost around him. “Where did he go? That bastard was right behind me. Ehh, he mentioned having to piss.”

  Portia disregarded his near drunk rambles, “What has he said to you?”

  “To me?” Hart chuckled, he took a quick two drag of his cigarette and continued, “I am flattered you believe he talks to me on that level. You know how he is. I will say this, he was mighty focused on how I was doing, so I know he’s down bad this time. Anything to you?

  “No more than usual,” she said.

  Hart finished off his cigarette, “Typical,” he laughed, flashing a coy smile before quenching it with another cig. “Well…when he is back. We can get him good and drunk. Make that man feel his emotions. He is almost at the tipping point.”

  Portia pulled the glass to her lips.“What gave it away: his motivational speeches to complete strangers or the bashing of his own blood? He’s lucky to be a part of that family or he’d be found dead in a gutter.”

  “The best and worst thing for him is that name,” he confirmed. “With his brother now…you know, I think Aust is hoping that’s his way -”

  “ - that son of a fucking bitch,” Portia belowed.

  Hart jumped a little from the sudden outburst. “Dear lord, Port, what?” He followed her finger as it pointed at Aust passed out at a table between two blonde women. “Ohhhh…so he finally took them up on their offer to buy him a drink…idiot.”

  “Who are they?” She demanded to know from him.

  “They didn’t give me a name nor the time of day. Only had eyes for your lover boy, or well former lover boy,” he tried to half joke. Hart cut his smile short once her stare caught him. “I was just joking. He had been turning them down all night. Each time we went up for drinks, they would beckon for him to take a shot with them. Think they’re supposed to be twins, but look nothing alike once you’re up close. Probably some half-assed hookers or something. They got a man across the way that always keeps eyes on them.”

  “You’re mentioning this now?”

  Hart shrugged, “I was hoping he wasn’t enough of an idiot, but once again, my trust in his brain power is used against me. Come on, let’s go get our man.”

  “Wait,” Portia said, grabbing Hart by the arm. He paused and turned to hear her better. “They ain’t local.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Look at this tiny one. She got an old money glitz and glam to her. That hair color can only be done west of the tracks, and that jewelry isn’t fake. No east side hooker is gonna be that dressed up to try to work in a bar like this.”

  “So?”

  Portia let go of his arm. “Just keep an eye out, okay.” She started to make her way to the women with Hart quickly in tow. As they broke through the crowd, it was clear the women had spotted them. Their posture changed. The petite blonde woman began to entangle herself around Aust, as her larger partner stood tall and stopped leaning against the wall.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Ladies,” Hart began, the women’s dual pair of blue eyes refused to notice him. Their focus was solely on Portia. “Right, glad you found our friend and kept him safe, we’ll be taking him back with us.” Hart reached for Aust’s arm. The taller woman twitched and buried a dagger into the table near Hart’s hand. She removed her grip from the hilt. A sole blood red sapphire was the only part to allow the reflection of light. It rested in a smooth void of black pearl. Portia recognized the introduction.

  Hart’s hand froze. The petite woman began to speak in a condescending tone that rippled with fake pleasantries. “Preston, now that was not necessary. These two are just worried about their friend. I doubt they’ll be any problem since they know how safe he is with us.” The woman stared at Portia, itching for her to make the first move. A smile curved across her lips. “You’ll have to excuse my sister. Always in it for the drama. I promise you that he will find his way stumbling back to you in the morning. Or well,” she stopped to playfully look over to her sister, “maybe in the afternoon if all he promises rings true.” The venom of the words spat into Portia’s face.

  “I am not the smartest guy,” Hart started to say.

  Before he was cut off by her, “Is that why you continue to try to talk and not leave? I gift you your lives tonight, and like I said, I will gift you your supposed man in the morning.” Portia could not help but find herself laughing. “Can I help you?”

  Sorry, I was just surprised at the audacity,” Portia said “I will give it to you. The Desert Raven’s corpse hasn’t even been gotten by the worms, and the Roe Twins are already starting up trouble.” Hart went to mockingly adjust his belt as Portia finished. The action caused the taller woman to flinch. “Jumpy, jumpy. It is Preston, right? You the stories claim you are the dumb one, but I think your sister may take the cake. If she thinks this is a good idea, then you are for certain the brains of the operation.”

  Hart added, in a mocking tone, “Port, I think we could take them. Two v Three isn’t all that bad.”

  “Three? You don’t even trust your man to fight with you?” Preston said finally adding to the conversation.

  “Nah, he’s too far gone and not as good a shot as me. I’m talking about your supposed hidden body guard in the corner back there,” Hart said.

  Both sisters gave a glance and Portia joined as Hart kept his focus on Aust. Behind them no more than ten yards was their so-called body guard with a lever action rifle at hip level. The color drained from Preston’s face as other mumbled, “Fuck this to hell.” She grabbed Aust by his shoulder and jerked him back towards the wall. Her sister flipped the table. Portia grabbed Hart by the shoulder and pulled him out of the way. Chaos erupted as the man put a quick five shots into the tabletop. Portia crawled around to the bar. She sat with her back protected by the reinforced coating. Hart found a small hatch with a stowed away laser pistol and an iron slug shotgun. Portia began the priming process as Hart began to ensure the shotgun was loaded.

  The thundering of footsteps died with the last few former patrons escaping outside to safety. Another rapid three shots came from the man’s rifle. The sisters returned fire haphazardly forcing him to take cover back a few steps off the back of a booth.

  Gunfire ceased. “Is that you, Thorn?” The smaller woman yelled from behind her table.

  “Nothing ever got past you more than twice, Park,” Thorn replied.

  “As I live and breathe - actually, as you live and breathe. Want to do us a favor for old times?” She asked, three quick sharp cracks flew into the table protecting the Roe Twins. “Take that as a no.”

  Portia used the mirror along the back of the bar to check on the sister. The table gave way to them starting to take action. Hart and her tried to seize the moment. Parker darted up from cover trying to unload on Thorn’s position. Portia rose to meet her, but was met with Preston attempting to provide cover for her sister. Hart got to her before Preston could pull the trigger - her right shoulder jolted back and she fell back behind the table. Portia paused from trying to ensure her own safely so Parker got back untouched. “Darlings, my sister and I are trying to handle some family business. So, if the two of you could kindly wait until we were done. We’d appreciate it,” Parker said.

  “Think we are good right where we are. Wouldn’t you say Port?” Hart said, his fingers counting down from five.

  “Ohh 100%. I’ve never been one to turn away from family drama,” she replied. The hiss of smoke came into existence. The charcoal gray gas twisted past the edge of the bar and poured from atop engulfing them into darkness.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hart muttered, “We are gonna lose them,” he coughed, he raised the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose. He gestured for her to do the same, but her dress gave no ability. The main exterior window shattered. Portia and Hart instinctively crouched closer to the floor. “Police?”

  She shook his head, “This fast on the east side, no way,” her theory was confirmed with the sound of a minigun winding up followed by a barrage of lead and bolts shattering the bottles atop and along the wall. They covered their heads as it rained down upon them. The gas became denser. A chemically sweet aroma burned Portia’s eyes and throat. She tried to cough it out of her system but each heave drove it deeper into her system.

  “Port,” Hart coughed. She could tell he was starting to feel the effects of it too. A violent coughing spasm debilitated him forcing him to drop the shotgun.

  Portia tried to keep her eyes open, but her body refused to listen. A cone of darkness started to narrow her vision. The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was Parker Roe screaming, “Fuck, he must have a mask.”