No One Owns Me

Chapter 24 — Coming Home

The journey back to the clubhouse is wrapped in a heavy, fragile quiet. I sit in the back seat beside Casey, Duncan driving, Ward in the front. Every few minutes Ward glances over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on her like he’s still afraid she might vanish.

Casey notices, and gives a faint, tired smile. “You’re staring again.”

“Just making sure you’re really there,” Ward says, his voice soft.

“I am.”

“Good.”

She rests her head against the window, eyes fluttering shut. I watch her—bruised, worn thin, but breathing, alive. That’s the only thing that matters right now.

When we pull into the yard, the Kings are already gathered by the doors. The car barely stops before Drake yanks the passenger door open. “Easy. Take it slow.”

Casey swings her legs out, but her knees buckle the moment she puts weight on them. Ward is there in an instant, arm slipping firmly around her waist to steady her. He glances at Duncan, half-expecting a rebuke—but Duncan just nods, quiet and solemn. No barriers left, not tonight.

Ward walks her inside, slow and careful. Mia is waiting in the hall, her hands pressed to her mouth. The second she sees Casey, she breaks into a run.

“Casey!”

Casey freezes for a heartbeat, like she’s not sure what to do. Then Mia wraps her arms around her, and all the strength Casey has held onto for days crumbles. She sobs into her mother’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d never get out. I thought I’d die there alone.”

Mia holds her so tight it must ache, but Casey doesn’t pull away. “You’re home now. You’re safe. I promise, we will always find you. Always.”

A little way back, Ward stands watching, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Duncan walks over and rests a hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” he says simply.

Ward blinks, surprised. “For what?”

“For not stopping. For bringing her back to us.”

“I’d do it a thousand times over.”

Duncan studies him for a long moment, then claps him gently on the shoulder. “I know. And for what it’s worth… you’re family, Ward. You belong here.”

Ward’s face softens, and for the first time all night, some of the tension leaves him. “Thank you. That means everything.”

Later, once Casey is fast asleep in her bed, Mia sits beside her, holding her hand. Duncan stands in the doorway, watching them, before heading downstairs to join the others. Ward is still there, leaning against the kitchen counter, still wearing his dusty, bloodied jacket. He hasn’t left.

Drake lays a thick folder on the table. “We need to talk. Properly. About what we found at that warehouse.”

Duncan sits, opening the folder. Inside are photos, maps, handwritten logs, sealed Crown documents. “What is all this?”

“The warehouse wasn’t just a holding cell for Casey,” Drake says, pointing to a grid of marked locations. “It was a hub. They’ve been moving people, assets, something… along this whole network.”

Duncan leans in, his breath catching as he recognises some of the addresses. Then he goes still. “They’re hunting people. Old associates. People who disappeared years ago.”

“People like who?”

Drake slides a list of names across the table. Duncan’s eyes scan down, and his face drains of colour.

“Mia’s name is here,” he says quietly. “But she’s been with us this whole time.”

“Not just her,” Drake says. “There’s another name. One they’ve marked high priority.”

He places one last photograph on the table. A young man, dark hair, sharp eyes—familiar in a way that makes Duncan’s chest ache.

“No,” he whispers.

“You know him?”

Duncan picks up the photo, his fingers trembling. “Daniel Cross. We thought he vanished without trace ten years ago.”

“He didn’t vanish,” Drake says. “He went into hiding. Why?”

Duncan looks up, his voice barely audible. “He was protecting someone. Someone very important.”

“Who?”

Duncan stares toward the stairs, toward Casey’s room.

“Casey’s father.”

Silence falls over the room, heavy and cold.

Downstairs, Ward is still sitting alone at the table, staring at the staircase. He can’t shake the feeling that something is still very wrong.

His phone buzzes. An unknown number.

YOU SAVED HER TONIGHT.

He frowns. Before he can reply, another message pops up.

BUT YOU CAN’T SAVE HER FOREVER.

His jaw tightens. He types: Who is this?

A third message appears, and his blood runs cold.

ASK DUNCAN WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO CASEY’S FATHER.

He stares at the screen, the words burning into him. He looks up at the stairs, where Casey sleeps safe for now. Then he stands, his mind made up.

Whatever secret the Crown is holding, whatever truth they’re taunting him with… he’s going to find it. And this time, he won’t wait for permission, or for someone else to decide what he’s allowed to know.

Casey deserves the whole story. And he’s going to get it for her.