Chapter 8 - The Return
At 3:30 AM, the heavy monitor screens inside the underground vault flickered.
I jumped up from the sofa, my heart leaping into my throat as I ran over to the desk.
The security camera at the main iron gates showed three black SUVs pulling into the courtyard. The perimeter guards stood down, lowering their weapons.
The front doors of the mansion opened, and a few minutes later, the heavy mechanical locks on the vault door began to click and turn.
CH-CH-CH-CLICK.
The heavy steel door swung outward, revealing the dim light of the wine cellar.
Jude stood in the doorway. His coat was damp with rain, a dark smudge of soot across his cheekbone, but his eyes were steady, calm, and unmistakably alive.
I didn't think. I didn't calculate protocol or worry about Reggie standing behind him.
I ran forward and threw my arms around Jude's neck.
Jude stiffened in surprise for a brief second before his arms came around my waist, lifting me slightly off my feet, pulling me tight against his broad chest. The scent of rain, cedar, and ozone clung to him, warm and solid.
"You're alive," I sobbed into his neck, tears of overwhelming relief spilling down my face. "You came back."
"I told you I would, Clara," Jude whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't hide. He held me for a long moment before setting my feet back onto the cold stone floor, keeping his hands gently on my waist. "It's over. All of it."
"Tristan?" I asked, looking up into his dark eyes.
"In federal custody," Jude replied plainly. "He’ll be serving fifteen to twenty years in a federal penitentiary for racketeering. He will never bother you or Brinley ever again."
Brinley came trotting out of the vault, clutching her teddy bear, her little sneakers squeaking. She stopped right in front of Jude, looking up at him with her big, curious eyes.
"Sad man!" she chirped happily. "Did you win the game of hide and seek?"
Jude dropped to one knee on the cold stone floor, bringing himself down to her eye level. A genuine, beautiful smile broke across his face, lighting up his sharp features and softening the jagged scar on his cheek.
"Yes, Brinley," Jude said softly, reaching out to tap her tiny nose with his finger. "We won."
Brinley reached out, wrapping her little arms around Jude’s neck, hugging him tight. Jude closed his eyes, wrapping his large arms around her small frame, holding her with a fierce, protective gentleness that made my heart ache with a strange, wonderful warmth.
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"You smell like rain," Brinley giggled, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
"Rain washes away the dirt, sweetheart," Jude murmured, looking up at me over her shoulder, his stormy gray eyes filled with a promise that needed no words.
