Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Lucian
It’s been a slow few days. Erin is desperately eager to see her sister and Ryan, to get answers, to understand what her future holds. And right now, I don’t have all the answers she needs.
Wanting some air, I step onto the porch with my jaw clenched and arms crossed. A red licorice whip dangles from the corner of my mouth—one from her stash of sweets—Erin’s attempt to get me to quit smoking.
Bayne’s sending us an escort. Today, we go back to New York.
From there?
Like I said. I don’t have all the answers.
And believe me, with the constant texts and calls from Cass and the questions from Erin, I’d love to answer them.
Blaze and I have agreed. We will do as the family needs. We will go where they tell us to go.
And we will grow. We will get stronger. And when we’re ready?
We’re taking back New York.
We’re rebuilding the Village.
Even if it takes a hundred years.
At least I’ve been able to give Erin closure with Gretchen. Freya came through, and both Gretchen and Mary are safe. Freya is helping them establish a new life, somewhere no one can find them.
Erin was thrilled when I told her.
I hear the rumble of a sizable car engine approaching Red Shutters before I see it, then it comes into view. A heavy, army-green classic Jeep creeps down the driveway. It’s one of Raphael’s men. Bayne was sending someone to take us to the airport.
The Jeep rolls to a stop in front of the cottage. I expect some young soldier type. Bayne’s version of ‘muscle.’ But then the driver’s door opens.
And time fucking stops.
He steps out of the car like a shadow—And every breath leaves my body.
His gaze locks on mine.
It’s Rafe. My Rafe.
The man who pulled me from a burning warehouse. The one who stood at my side while Carlos sold us all out.
A dark coat, a shock of brown hair, and those rare, striking, amber-colored eyes of his. There’s a long, straight scar running down the side of his cheek that wasn’t there the last time I saw him. It’s light, like it healed a long time ago.
Under the sleeves of his coat, there are scars I have memorized. Ones he wears because of me. Ones from him pulling me out of the fire I never should have been in.
“Lucian,” he says.
I don’t answer right away. My brain scrambles, trying to bridge the past to the present.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I say at last, voice low.
He smirks. “I thought the same about you.”
Rafe walks up the steps, slow and measured. I don’t move.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says.
“I feel like I have.”
“We did lose touch.”
He flashes that cocky grin of his. “I have to say, I thought you might put the pieces together. Rafe, Raphael?”
“I should have known it was you.” I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied. Why didn’t Bayne say something?”
“I asked him not to. Thought I’d wait till things calmed down and we could speak in person.” Rafe/ Raphael stares up at the cottage. “We stayed here together, a lifetime ago, when we had to hide from Carlos. Have you forgotten?”
“God no. I thought of you and our time here together as soon as Bayne suggested this place. I should have figured it out.”
“Well, you got sidetracked by a woman.”
“Possibly.” I grin.
“I volunteered to drive you today. Thought I should give you a proper hello. And goodbye.”
“I’m so glad you did.”
He stands a foot away now, towering like he used to, steady as hell.
“You look different,” I mutter.
“Life does that,” he says. “So does betrayal.”
We both silently curse Carlos.
I glance toward the house.
“She’s inside,” I say.
“Erin,” he says. “Yeah. I’ve been briefed.”
“I’d burn the world down for this girl.”
Then Rafe grins. “Still the same old Lucian.”
I take a breath and think of Isobel.
“Listen, Rafe,” my throat goes tight, “I can’t thank you enough. Having your team around to keep watch was everything.”
He nods.
We walk the perimeter. Silent. Watching.
“You seem better than before,” Rafe finally says. “After everything.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t. You should have seen me before her.”
“Is she the reason you’re still standing?”
“She’s the reason I came back from the dead.”
“I heard about Caleb,” he says.
“He’s dead.”
“Shame it wasn’t sooner.”
“It was bloody enough,” I murmur, still seeing the blood drain down the sink when I wash my hands. “You know the story.”
“Yeah.” He holds my gaze, irises flashing. “I wanted to deliver some blunt force trauma on that asshole for you.”
His comment makes me give a rough laugh. “Thanks.”
Talking to Rafe like this feels strange, as if no time has gone by. Just like it was with Gregory. Like a brother. I find myself opening up, sharing something I need to let go of.
“It turns out he hurt Erin, too.” I hold back her secret, too private to share, “And, he said something about it...before he died.”
“What?”
I hesitate. “He said he already ruined her.”
Rafe’s face darkens. “Fucking bastard.”
“Yeah. I can’t stop hearing it.”
He can’t fix it but it feels good to tell him.
“She’s got you now.” His hand is on my shoulder, a hard squeeze before it drops. “That’s all that matters.”
We both go quiet, walking side-by-side, and for a moment, it feels as if no time has passed.
“Listen. While it’s just us,” he focuses those amber eyes, “There’s something I need to say.”
We’ve circled the cottage. We stop beneath the trees, just beyond the front porch.
“Yeah?”
And then, Rafe, this ghost from my past, a man I’d never thought I would see again, he says, “I’m not sure Isobel died that day.”
The world tilts.
“What?”
“There’s talk,” he says. “Carlos is moving again. Quiet. Subtle. And there are whispers… that she didn’t die.”
Time stops. My chest goes tight, my blood running cold.
“There was no body,” he continues. “You know that.”
I’ve kept the memory at bay as much as I can, but now, I allow myself to cast my mind back to that terrible day.
I was bleeding. Rafe was shouting. Carlos was gone. And Isobel—her scream still haunts my dreams.
We were storing arms in Manhattan. It was supposed to be a clean deal. Instead, we were betrayed. Ambushed. The building was set on fire. I wanted to go back for her. I couldn’t find her.
Rafe had to drag me out.
“You’re right,” I say. “We didn’t—” A feeling of freedom comes over me, and I finally confess to him what I’ve known for some time. “But I’ve moved on.”
“That’s good.” He nods. But he’s still looking at me.
Even as I repeat it, a creeping feeling clambers up my spine. “I’ve moved on with Erin.”
His words are like a bomb. “If Carlos used her—if he kept her alive, Lucian…”
I close my eyes, my hand going to the scars hidden under my shirt.
And for a single heartbeat, I’m back in the flames.
Screaming. Bleeding. Losing everything.
“I’ve already buried her,” I whisper.
We lock eyes. “Are you sure?”
I’m the first to look away.
The Village is destroyed. New York is gone. My baby brother refuses to return to the safety of the life I carefully orchestrated for him.
And Carlos, the man who made me drag my men into certain death, who made me gain their trust, only to turn on them and watch them die, is out there.
And Isobel…
I can’t even wrap my mind around the thought of her right now.
“Lucian,” Erin calls faintly from inside. The door opens. She gives Rafe a small wave. “Hiya!”
“Hello.” Rafe grins. I can tell by his face that he already likes her.
She has no idea who is standing next to me, the weight he carries, or the past we share.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you all.” Lightly, she asks me, “But, are you ready, love? Cass’ll kill me twice if I miss this plane.”
Hearing her term of endearment breaks me in two.
“Go inside, Erin,” I try to smile, to reassure her, “I’ll be right there.”
As soon as the door closes, I turn to Rafe, voice raw, “Now I have to tell her that she’s still stuck here and she’s not going to see her family. Not until I know exactly where Carlos is.”
“Yes,” he says, “You do.”
Then Rafe gives me a shit-eating grin like he’s glad it’s me delivering the news and not him.
“Thanks.”
He stays where he stands, but his chuckle follows me up the porch steps.