Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 125: The Velvet Curtain

In one heartbeat, the space was ruled by a delicate chaos.

Kelly spun from the terminal to face Maxson's silence. He was clad in his battlecoat once more, bearing it with the weight of his wrath. The bruising she had inflicted on his forehead stared at her like an angry third eye. Her eyes did not flinch against the thunder his set upon her. She could see it, feel it. He stood on the brink of where the atmosphere was jagged between them; one more step would have him plunged to the point of no return.

She thrilled at the fear of it. As the moment dragged, her fear subsided, coalescing into defiance.

So, we meet again, fuck-boy.

She smiled, impotently amused. He stared, waited. She realized then that maybe part of her wanted to be caught. That insatiable darkling in her that craved the tension of his constriction wanted this to happen. His confrontations were like a drug to her, the challenge of their wills colliding and the danger of the unknown. Just the thought of him wanting to ruin her with his most basic, primordial instincts gave her pleasure beyond measure.

At last, he grew impatient in their game of chicken. "So you thought to test my favor to it's limits, I see."

Her accusations fought for freedom, but she knew she needed to cool the cauldron of his temper before firing any shots, or this would all escalate far too quickly. "My people expect me to protect them against your ambitions. I'm just doing my job."

His brow canted. He liked to do that with her as of late. A little quirk of her making. "A predictable scapegoat against the moral ambiguity of espionage. Should I also suspect you of working for the Institute, given your eagerness to return to their clutches?"

She decided to breeze over that. "Come on, you didn't really expect me to sit twiddling my thumbs waiting while you finished your morning coffee before combing out your beard. It was almost as if you wanted me to go snooping."

His eyes flickered briefly to her exposed cleavage. "Everything is a game to you. Did you stop with your conspiracy theories just a moment to think that perhaps I wanted to establish a level of trust before showing you the meaning of this meeting?" His tone had lifted in the first submission to his choleric nature. That didn't take long.

She stopped to consider. It was either a well-acted farce, or genuine frustration. Maxson was known to be charismatic, but more for his impassioned speeches and displays of compassion toward his people, not so much for his charm in terms of coming off as relatable and emotive. Hancock may be crude and polarizing, but he could work his charm and talk his way out of almost any sticky situation. What Maxson lacked in comparison, he made up for by enamouring masses to his will with one moving performance.

"You are irreverent to the Brotherhood cause. You cast aspersions on my honor with every chance you get. You challenge me at every turn, oft time for nothing other than your own amusement," Maxson lamented over her silent thoughts. "Every step I take in efforts to bridge the gap of trust between us, you only twist my intention and see to it that the bridge is burned down." They had yet to break eye contact, and Kelly finally let her eyes slip to the table between them, crossing her arms stubbornly over her exposed chest. It seemed her tack for seduction was off the table, so to speak.

He continued to work at the silence she created. "Are you so incapable of ruling your thought with your head in place of your heart?"

Her eyes snapped back up to his. "You have no idea how wrong you are there."

"Really? I beg to differ."

"So unlike you," she threw acidly.

"Explain to me exactly how you conquer your unwieldy emotions in our dealings."