Chapter 125 Aiden

Chapter 125 Aiden
Quin's POV
Lucas was dead.
I sat with that information for a long time after the call ended. Longer than I expected to. The room was quiet except for the sound of Cooper constantly shifting in Tyler's lap. Tyler hadn't said anything either. We just sat there, holding onto each other's hands.
Suicide, Jake had said.
I turned the word over in my head. Suicide. The end Lucas had chosen for himself in a small cell somewhere while the rest of the world continued operating without any awareness of him. It felt anticlimactic in a way that was difficult to articulate. Not disappointing exactly. Just small. After everything he had done, the ending had been quiet and private and entirely his own.
I had wanted him to suffer.
I could admit that. I had wanted him to face something that matched the scale of what he had done. A trial. Consequences that were public and documented and proportionate. Something that acknowledged the specific damage he had caused rather than simply removing him from the equation without ceremony.
Instead he was just gone.
"What's on your mind?," Tyler asked.
I looked at him. He was watching me with the expression he used when he already knew what I was thinking and was giving me the space to say it rather than pulling it out of me.
"I wanted it to hurt more," I said.
He didn't look surprised. "I know."
"That probably sounds terrible."
"It doesn't. It's a normal reaction to someone like him."
"He doesn't deserve to die on his own terms. Without having to face any consequences or whatsoever."
Tyler was quiet for a moment.
"He faced some of it," he said carefully. "You made sure of that before Jake's team arrived."
I almost smiled. "That's true. But it was not close to being enough compared to what you went through."
"I'm not going to pretend I felt nothing when I heard it," he said. "Relief was the first of them." He looked at his hands. "Then a kind of emptiness. Like I'd been bracing for something for so long that when it stopped I didn't know what to do with the space it left."
I understood that.
"And now?" I asked.
He thought about it. "Grateful," he said finally. "He can't hurt anyone else now. He can't show up somewhere we don't expect and try to take something from us again." He paused. "That part feels like something I can actually hold onto."
I looked at him.
This man who had been through more in the past year than most people navigated in a lifetime and was still sitting here finding the thing worth holding onto. Still looking for the version of events that allowed him to breathe.
I reached over and pulled him closer. He came willingly, resting his head against my shoulder. Cooper stirred briefly, registered that nobody was paying him attention, and went back to whatever he was doing.
"I still wish it had hurt more though," I said.
Tyler laughed softly. "I know you do. "
"Is that a terrible thing?"
"Probably. But I don't care because I wish the same too."
I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. We sat like that for a while. The evening settled around us. The particular quiet of a house that had been through too much and was finally being allowed to simply exist for a moment.
Eventually Tyler shifted. "Should we call Jake back?"
"Tomorrow," I said. "Tonight I don't want to talk about Lucas anymore."
"Agreed."
He tilted his head up to look at me. His eyes were tired but clear. "What do you want to do?"
"Nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing that requires any effort from either of us."
He smiled. "Now, that I can do."
"Unless, you're still up for making a baby." I said grinning.
"Not happening. Just give that idea up." We both laughed.
Cooper apparently decided that was his cue to relocate. He climbed off the couch with enormous drama, circled the rug twice, and collapsed into his bed in the corner with a sigh that suggested he found the whole evening deeply disappointing. It was like he could read the room.
"He's so theatrical," Tyler said.
"He gets it from you."
"He gets it from you. You're the dramatic one."
"I've never been dramatic a day in my life."
Tyler stared at me for a long moment. "You once made me go shopping for new clothes because mine weren't up to standard for a work event."
"That was a much needed shopping trip."
He shook his head. He knew he wasn't winning this particular argument. I wasn't dramatic. I was thorough. There was a huge difference.
We stayed on the couch. We talked about nothing important for a while, whether Jake would bring Dylan to our wedding or pretend they weren't together and then be caught holding hands anyway. Tyler's prediction was yes to all. I thought he was probably right.
Cassie had apparently run from her boss's apartment that morning which Tyler had clearly found hilarious and I found entirely predictable.
"She's going to have to talk to her eventually," Tyler said.
"Obviously."
"She's terrible at admitting things."
"Everyone who loves you is terrible at admitting things, including yourself."
He gave me a look. I kept my expression neutral. He shook his head and went back to whatever train of thought he had been on. I watched him for a moment. The ease of him. The way he occupied space without effort, the way his hands moved when he talked, the way his face changed when something genuinely amused him versus when he was performing amusement to be polite.
I know every version of it now. And I love every version of him.
That thought settled in my chest with a warmth that had stopped being surprising and had simply become the background of everything.
Cooper's head lifted from his bed.
I noticed it before Tyler did. The puppy's ears were up. His body had gone still as if he knew something we didn't.
"Cooper," Tyler said absently.
Cooper didn't relax. His head turned toward the hallway.
Then he barked.
Not the playful bark he used when he wanted attention . This was different. Sharper. The bark of something that had decided something was wrong and had no interest in being subtle about it.
Tyler sat up. "What's wrong with him?"
Cooper barked again. And again. Each one more insistent than the last. He was on his feet now, facing the hallway with his small body completely rigid.
Something crawled up the back of my neck.
I stood up slowly.
"Quin?" Tyler's voice had changed.
"Stay here," I said.
"What?"
"Stay on the couch."
The expression on his face told me he had no intention of doing that, which was entirely typical and also irrelevant to what I was feeling right now. Something was wrong. I didn't know what yet. But Cooper knew and that was enough.
I crossed toward the hallway.
The house was quiet. Our security was good. I had upgraded it significantly after the Aiden situation. Cameras, motion sensors, a dedicated team monitoring the perimeter. Nobody should have been able to get inside without triggering something.
Which meant either something had failed or someone had known how to circumvent it.
Neither option was good.
I reached the hallway entrance and stopped.
Cooper's barking reached a fever pitch behind me. Tyler said something sharp and low that I didn't catch. My eyes adjusted to the lower light of the hallway.
A figure stood at the far end of it. Still and calm, like they had been there for a while and had been waiting patiently for this exact moment.
My blood ran cold.
I knew that silhouette. The figure stepped forward and the light from the living room caught his face.
He raised his hand. In it was a gun.
I heard Tyler's sharp intake of breath behind me. Cooper fell silent immediately, but he kept growling.
Aiden looked at me. Then past me to Tyler. Then back to me. His expression was completely controlled. The same expression he had worn in my office the day he walked in uninvited. The same confidence of someone who believed they had constructed a situation with no exits.
I had thought that before. I had been wrong then about how far he would go.
"Quin," he said. His voice was perfectly pleasant. "It's been a while."
The hallway felt very small.
Behind me Tyler stood still. I could feel him there. Present and still and terrified
I kept my eyes on the man in front of me and on the gun he was holding.
"How did you get in?" I said.
He smiled.
"I told you," he said quietly. "I've been watching for a long time."
Cooper made a sound behind me. Small and low. More afraid now than aggressive.
I stayed exactly where I was.
And thought about everything I knew about the man in front of me, and how he operated, what he wanted, how much of tonight he had planned versus how much of it was desperation wearing the costume of control.
Men who came to a house with a gun had run out of other options. That meant something. I just needed to figure out what to do before the situation decided for me.
I cleared my throat and called out his name with a sour feeling.
"Aiden."