Chapter 385: Not Tonight

The questions came from every direction at once ~ where was the Bugatti, what happened, why a different car, and why he looked so calm when the story clearly was not.

Lucas stood in the driveway with the afternoon light still on him and four pairs of eyes waiting for something solid. He did not want to push fear into them, and he also did not want to turn the moment into a full report that would leave them carrying more than they needed to. There was no clean way out of it either.

"I was attacked," he said, and the words sat heavy in the air. "They came after me. I used the car during the pursuit and ended up in a crash."

He did not add more than that. No names at first, no long sequence, just enough to explain the missing Bugatti and the BMW behind him. It was already enough. Every face in front of him changed. The excitement from the trunk faded first, and worry took its place fast.

Daisy stepped in before anyone else could speak. She reached for his arms, then his shoulders, then turned him slightly like she needed to confirm with her own hands that he was still whole. No cuts, no swelling, nothing obvious under the shirt. Mia followed right after her, eyes sharp, checking the same places Daisy had already touched.

Gracie stayed still longer than the rest. Anger moved through her expression in a quiet, hard line. She already had a name in her head. There were not many people with the reach and the stupidity to move like that.

"Was it Durnik?" she asked.

All of them looked at him at once. The answer mattered. If it was him, the mood in the driveway would change from worry into something sharper.

Lucas nodded once. "Yes. But I’ll handle him myself. Don’t worry about it."

Debbie was still checking him, slower than the others and more careful, as if a mark might appear if she looked long enough. There was nothing. No bruise rising, no stiffness he could not hide. That should have helped. It only made her stare harder.

He needed the conversation to move before the driveway turned into a war meeting. Lucas lifted the bags still in his hands.

"Hey. Look at these first."

Gracie was the first to break. The moment she saw the Chanel Mini Flap in suede, the worry on her face cracked open into pure shock. She made a short, sharp sound and took it from him with both hands like she was afraid it might disappear if she blinked.

That was all the others needed. They went for the rest at once ~ bags from his hands, bags from the open trunk, boxes pulled free and turned over on the driveway. Every time someone opened something new, another sound left them. Surprise, disbelief, the kind of quick laughter that only came when the gift was better than expected.

Lucas looked past them for a second. Rechelle stood near the side, quiet, not stepping into the middle of it. She watched the reaction with a controlled face, as if she was measuring whether the choices had landed clean. They had. The girls were fully in it now, holding pieces up to the light, comparing, already claiming without saying the words out loud. The earlier tension from the crash story had not vanished, but the gifts had given them somewhere else to put their hands.

When the first wave finally settled, they came back to him in a rush of thanks ~ arms around his neck, short hugs, voices stacked on top of each other. Lucas raised a hand slightly.

"Take it easy. Rechelle picked all of this for you."

That stopped them. Every head turned toward the woman still standing a little apart from the mess of bags and boxes. The shock on their faces was honest.

"You chose these?"

"You’ve got taste like this?"

Gracie looked the happiest by far. She already understood the weight of what she was holding better than the rest of them. One of those bags was not just a gift. It was content, photos, status ~ the exact kind of piece she had been trying to get her hands on clean for a while.

Before the attention on Rechelle could thicken too much, Mia glanced back toward the house. "The food’s getting cold."

That was enough to move them. They gathered what they could carry and headed inside. Lucas and Rechelle followed. The kitchen smoke from earlier had thinned, replaced by the heavier smell of finished dishes. The table was loaded end to end with different plates and pots, enough food for people who had cooked like the afternoon itself was a contest.

The moment he sat, the focus shifted again. Mia pushed a plate closer. Daisy followed with another portion. Debbie set meat in front of him like the point of the meal had already been decided.

"Eat."

"You’re getting lean."

"Take enough meat."

They did not leave him room to refuse politely. One of them held a bite near his mouth. Another refilled what he had barely started. Rechelle sat with them and watched the pattern without interrupting it. For a while the table was only food, noise, and the simple pressure of people determined to put him back together through a plate.

The meal stretched longer than it needed to. When it finally slowed, Mia moved behind his chair. Her hands settled on his shoulders and began working the muscle there with slow, firm pressure. The warmth of her palms sank in through his shirt.

"You’re sweating," she said near his ear. "You need a bath." Her fingers kept moving. "This evening might be rough."

The line was soft. It was also clear. Around the table, the meaning landed without anyone needing a translation. Daisy’s expression shifted first, already half ready to support the direction Mia was pointing. The room had started tipping that way when Debbie cut across it.

"Mia. No."

Both of them looked at her. Debbie did not back off. ℯ

"He just walked in from a crash because of that useless old bastard. What he’s supposed to get tonight is rest, not more draining. He’s recovering. That’s it."

Mia’s face tightened. Daisy’s did too. Debbie kept going before either of them could push back properly.

"In fact, nobody is sleeping in the master room tonight. We all sleep separately."

The words came flat and final. Mia and Daisy stared at her like she had personally stepped into their path and locked the door. Debbie saw the looks and did not soften under them. She had already watched them ignore the first half of her point, and she was not interested in watching them ignore the rest.

"I mean it," she said. "Not tonight."