Chapter 363: I’m Home Now

Lucas walked.

The quarry fell behind him in the dark, and the rough track stretched on under his feet. He did not slow down. Two hours of ground passed beneath him in a steady, relentless pace ~ gravel, broken asphalt, then the long empty stretches of industrial road that led back toward the city.

A normal man would have felt it by now.

The distance. The impact in the knees. The burn in the lungs.

Lucas felt none of it.

His body moved the way it always did after violence ~ clean, efficient, untouched. The enhanced physique carried him without complaint. If there was any sensation at all, it was not pain. It was something colder and quieter. Satisfaction. The knowledge that Aaron was gone. That the men who had put a gun to Rechelle’s head were gone with him. That the van was still burning in a hole in the earth where no one would find it soon.

He kept walking.

The night deepened around him. Streetlights remained distant. The industrial edge of the city was a place of fences, empty lots, and long stretches of road with nothing on them. His boots struck the ground in a hard, even rhythm. Dust clung to the lower half of his clothes. The smell of smoke and fuel still lived faintly on his skin and jacket.

Time passed.

When he finally reached a proper road, the hour was late. Traffic was thin. The sky had the heavy quiet of a city that had already gone to sleep. Lucas stopped at the edge of the asphalt and waited.

A taxi appeared after several minutes, headlights cutting through the dark.

Lucas raised a hand.

The driver slowed, then almost kept going when he got a better look at him ~ the dirt, the darkened clothes, the look of a man who had clearly been somewhere he should not have been. The window came down only halfway.

"I’m not taking~"

Lucas pulled out the cash before the sentence finished.

Five thousand dollars.

He held it where the driver could see it clearly. The man’s eyes locked on the money. For a second he said nothing. Then the locks clicked open.

"Get in."

Lucas did.

The taxi pulled away from the curb and headed toward the richer side of the city. Lucas sat in the back without speaking, eyes on the passing lights, already thinking of the gate and the woman still waiting behind it.

---

The taxi slowed to a stop outside the high gates of the mansion.

Lucas stepped out into the cool night air. The vehicle pulled away almost at once, leaving him alone under the streetlight with the dark property stretching behind the iron bars.

Inside, Rechelle had been waiting for more than four hours.

At some point the exhaustion had taken her. She had folded herself against the inner side of the gate, arms wrapped around her knees, and fallen asleep there on the cold ground. Her phone lay beside her, screen long since gone dark. There were no staff left in the house. After everything Aaron had done, she no longer trusted anyone enough to keep them close. The mansion stood empty behind her ~ large, silent, and still marked by what had happened earlier.

Lucas called.

No answer.

He called again.

Still nothing.

A third time. A fourth. The line only rang into silence. Something cold moved through his chest. He stepped closer to the gate, already measuring the height, already preparing to climb. The thought that something had gone wrong while he was gone pressed hard against the back of his mind.

His hand landed on the iron.

The gate shifted under the contact and let out a low metallic sound.

Rechelle woke with a sharp intake of breath.

For a split second her body only knew fear. Another intruder. She scrambled to her feet so fast her balance almost failed, heart slamming against her ribs.

"Who’s there?"

Her voice cut across the dark, tight and ready to break.

Lucas stopped with one foot already set against the lower bar.

"It’s me," he said. "Rechelle. It’s Lucas."

The change in her was immediate.

The panic drained out of her face so fast it left her looking unsteady. She moved to the gate without another word, hands fumbling with the lock, and pulled it open hard enough that the iron swung wide.

The moment Lucas stepped through, she was on him.

Her arms locked around his torso with desperate strength. She pressed her face into his chest and held on as if letting go would put the whole night back into motion. Lucas felt the full weight of her against him ~ the fine tremor in her shoulders, the way her fingers dug into the back of his jacket, the uneven pull of her breathing. She did not speak. She only held him, tight enough that he could feel how long she had been waiting and how close she had come to breaking while she did.

He brought one arm around her back and kept her there.

The hug lasted.

When it finally loosened, Lucas looked down and saw her phone still lying near the place she had slept. His brow furrowed.

"What are you doing out here this late?"

Rechelle’s face warmed. She glanced away, then back at him, clearly unwilling to say it at first.

Lucas’s voice softened.

"Did you stay out here the whole time?"

She nodded once, small and reluctant.

"I was afraid to go inside."

Lucas took her hand. His grip was steady.

"I’m home now," he said. "There’s nothing to be afraid of."

Rechelle shook her head.

"I can’t sleep in that house."

The truth of it settled over him at once. The entrance was still marked by blood. The rooms beyond it still held the memory of men with guns and the violence that had ended them. Even the upper floors would not erase that. Not tonight.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"There’s a hotel I know," she said. "We can lodge there."

The words were barely out before color rose across her cheeks. She seemed to realize, a second too late, how it might sound ~ a man and a woman, past midnight, checking into a hotel. She did not take it back. She only stood there with her face warm and her hand still in his.

Lucas did not make it harder for her.

"That’s fine," he said. "But how do we get there? It’s almost twelve."

"I have cars in the garage."

Lucas paused.

He remembered the other vehicle ~ the one left behind in the parking lot of the Monarch Hotel the night of Durnik’s banquet. He had not expected her to have more. He followed her along the inner path toward the side of the mansion, where a low structure sat closed against the night.

Rechelle stopped at the panel, entered a code, and the garage door rolled upward with a smooth mechanical sound.

Light spilled out across three cars.

Two classic sports models sat polished and waiting in the back. At the front, a black BMW M3 sedan rested low and sharp against the concrete. Lucas took them in with a quiet glance. Whatever he had thought about her interest in cars before, it was clearly deeper than his own.

Rechelle’s voice came quieter than before.

"There’s a problem. The keys are inside. In my room. In the drawer by the bed."

She did not need to say the rest. She would not go back into the house.

Lucas only nodded.

"Wait here."

He left her by the open garage and went into the mansion alone. The air inside still carried the aftermath of the fight. He did not linger. He found the room, found the drawer, took the keys, and came back out into the night with them in his hand.

Rechelle watched him the entire way.

Lucas unlocked the black BMW, opened the passenger side for her, then moved around to the driver’s seat. The engine came to life with a deep, clean sound ~ already tuned, already modified, already more machine than ordinary car.

Rechelle settled into the seat beside him.

Lucas put the vehicle in gear.

Behind them, the mansion stood dark and ruined in the night. Ahead of them, the road toward the hotel waited under the late-hour lights.

They left the property without looking back.