No One Owns Me

Chapter 15 — Just For Tonight

For the first time in seventeen years, my mother stands right in front of me. Alive. Breathing. Looking at me like I’m still the little girl she used to tuck into bed.

And I hate her.

I hate her for leaving. For letting me grow up believing she was dead. For every birthday cake with an empty chair, every Christmas without her laugh, every nightmare where I called for her and she never came. I hate that she made me feel abandoned. Most of all, I hate that my chest aches so badly I still want to run into her arms.

So I turn on my heel and walk straight past her.

“Casey.” Her voice is soft, broken.

I stop. I don’t look back. “Not tonight.”

My voice shakes so hard I can barely get the words out. I keep walking, pushing through the heavy doors, out into the cold night air. I need space. I need to breathe. I need to stop being the heir, the lost daughter, the girl everyone has lied to. Just for a little while. I need to be seventeen-year-old Casey.

Footsteps crunch behind me. I expect Duncan. Instead, Ward falls into step beside me.

“You okay?”

“No.”

He nods. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Want me to leave you alone?”

I glance at him. The moonlight catches the edge of his smile. “Maybe… don’t.”

“Good.” He gestures toward the line of bikes parked by the gate. “Come on. I know a place.”

“Somewhere without secrets?”

“Probably not. But fewer ones.” He hands me a helmet.

I stare at it. “Are you k********g me?”

“Technically? Offering you an escape.” He swings a leg over his motorcycle. “Trust me.”

I huff a laugh. “That’s becoming your catchphrase.”

“And you keep listening.”

I put the helmet on and climb on behind him. The engine roars to life, low and steady beneath me.

“Hold on tight.”

I wrap my arms around his waist. His jacket smells like leather and pine. “Ready.”

We pull away. The wind rushes past, drowning out everything else. The church, my mother, all the tangled feelings—they all fade behind us, just for now.

Ward takes the narrow roads west, until the trees thin out and the dark line of the coast comes into view. He stops at a clifftop viewpoint, empty and quiet, looking out over the sea.

We take off our helmets. The breeze carries salt and cold.

“This is nice,” I say.

“Thought you’d like it.”

“Did you plan this?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “You’ve had a pretty terrible week. Figured you deserved a minute that didn’t involve guns or ghosts.”

We sit side by side on the low stone wall. The moon hangs low, stretching a silver path across the water. For the first time in what feels like forever, there is no shouting, no threats, no riddles. Just the sound of waves far below.

I look at him. “Thank you. For not making me explain myself back there.”

He leans back on his hands. “You don’t owe anyone your feelings on a schedule. You’ll talk when you’re ready.”

“And if I’m never ready?”

“Then we’ll just sit here and watch the sea. That works too.”

I smile. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“So are you.”

We fall quiet for a moment. Then I say, very softly: “I’m so angry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel instead.”

“You don’t have to pick just one.” He turns to face me properly. “You can hate what she did and still be glad she’s alive. You can miss her and still be furious she stayed away. You can want answers and still not be ready to forgive her. People aren’t simple. Neither is love.”

I stare at him. “How do you know that?”

“Spent a long time figuring it out myself.” He grins. “Don’t tell anyone I got philosophical. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

I laugh. But the laughter fades fast when I catch the way he’s looking at me—no teasing, no jokes, just something warm and steady in his eyes. My heart gives a hard, uneven thud.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“So are you.”

I look away, but I can’t stop the smile tugging at my mouth. “Maybe.”

He hesitates for a long moment. Then he says, quiet enough only I can hear: “You don’t have to be tough all the time. Not with me.”

“I know,” I whisper.

He leans in slowly. Giving me every chance to pull back, to say no. I don’t.

His lips brush mine—gentle, soft, like he’s afraid I might break. It doesn’t feel like fire or madness. It feels like coming up for air. Like finally letting go of something I’ve been clutching too tight for too long.

When we pull apart, he looks nervous. “Was that… okay?”

I smile, and for the first time all night, it reaches my eyes. “Yeah. That was okay.”

“Good.”

I rest my head on his shoulder, looking out at the dark water. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Especially Drake. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Ward laughs quietly. “Your secret’s safe with me. Always.”

For tonight, I don’t want answers. I don’t want prophecies or wars or the Crown. I don’t want to think about my mother, or the past, or what comes tomorrow.

Tonight I’m just Casey. Sitting here with someone who sees me—all of me, the messy and the brave and the broken—and doesn’t ask me to be anything more.

And for the first time, after everything I’ve lost… I feel like I might finally have something worth keeping.