AGAINST THE RULES: their scentless omega-Chapter 53: a new mission

Lucian’s eyes widened. "Huh?" The sound left him before he could swallow it back.

Hunter’s gaze sharpened. He leaned down slightly, just enough for the air between them to thin.

"Ethan," he muttered, each word edged with bitterness. "I fucking hate him."

The room fell into a heavy silence. The television still played the live broadcast, engines roaring faintly through the speakers, the crowd screaming somewhere far away , but inside the garage office, it felt muted, like the world had been shoved behind glass.

Hunter exhaled through his nose, jaw tight.

"So tell me, chiquitín..." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Do you freaking love him?"

Lucian’s throat went dry. Why is he asking such a question now? What is he trying to gain out of this? Lucian thought "Me and him... we broke up."

"That was not my question, Lucien."

The correction landed hard. Clean. Precise.

Lucian’s heartbeat began to pound in his ears. Do I still love Ethan? The thought surfaced before he could stop it. After everything that happened? After the lies, the betrayal, the silence, Coco... the distance...?

No.

The answer should have been easy. Immediate. Final.

But somehow coming out of the surface , it wasn’t that easy at all

His lips parted slightly, then closed again. His mind ran in circles , memories flashing uninvited: late-night rides, shared helmets, Ethan’s quiet presence on the couch, the way he used to reach for his hand without looking.

Why can’t I answer him?

Why is this so hard?

Now that i think about it, no one asked me this question all along?

Thats why i always thought i was over Ethan

Hunter watched the hesitation more than he listened to the silence. His eyes darkened , not surprised, not even angry anymore, just... confirmed. He straightened slowly and looked away with a small, irritated exhale.

"I see..." he muttered, the words flat, but carrying disappointment like a shadow.

Lucian’s chest tightened. He wanted to say something , anything , to fill the gap that had just opened, but the right sentence refused to form. The air between them grew dense, uncomfortable, filled with everything unsaid.

What can i say?

What more lies can i say to fix this ?

Then the door burst open.

It slammed against the wall with a metallic bang that jolted both of them.

"Lucien!" Old Man Harris’s voice cut through the room, breathless, strained. He stepped inside, grease-stained cap crooked on his head, eyes wide with panic. "I have a problem... Ethan—" he swallowed, chest rising and falling rapidly. "He’s missing."

The word missing echoed louder than the engines on the screen.

Lucian froze. The remote slipped slightly in his hand.

Hunter’s head snapped toward Harris, expression sharpening instantly.

For a moment, no one moved.

inside the room, a clock had started ticking ,one none of them could see, and all of them suddenly felt.

Lucian’s heart seized for a split second, like an engine choking mid-ignition.

"What do you mean missing?" he demanded, already moving toward Harris before the older man could finish his breath. His voice came out sharper than intended, urgency bleeding through every syllable. He reached Harris in two long strides, hands half-raised as if he could physically pull an answer out of him.

"i thought he ran late today that’s why he couldn’t come in the opening act?"

Behind him, Hunter went still.

His gaze dropped to his own hand , the same hand that had been resting on Lucian’s wrist only moments ago. The warmth was already gone. He flexed his fingers slightly, as if expecting the sensation to return, but it didn’t. The room suddenly felt colder. He didn’t follow Lucian. Didn’t interrupt. He simply stood there, rooted to the spot, watching Lucian’s back instead ,watching how easily his attention had shifted, how naturally his priority had changed.

Even at the cats and mouse game.... your attention was still at him Hunter bitterly thought

Harris wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

"I’ve been trying to get a hold of him ever since the night he wrecked his bike," he said, voice uneven. "Calls go straight to voicemail. Messages unread. I don’t even know if he’s going to show up here today... or anywhere. The boy is already raising my blood pressure with how he is stressing me out "

The words hung in the air like smoke.

The door creaked again and Bulldozer stepped in, broad shoulders filling the frame. He smelled faintly of charcoal and gasoline, like he’d walked straight out of the grill pit and into the tension.

"And not showing up," he added bluntly, "means automatic elimination. Reagents doesn’t wait for anyone, top dog or not, Ethan is knowledgeable to now that by now"

Lucian’s jaw tightened. No that isn’t right, no matter how much shitty life gets , he will never miss a tournament like this one

Bulldozer crossed his arms, his usually boisterous tone softened. "I only met him once, at the barbecue. Kid didn’t look right. Eyes too empty for someone his age. a guy like that... they only get that look when life’s been grinding them down for a while."

The last time I met him... I fought with him.

The memory stabbed through Lucian’s mind , the raised voices, the door slamming, Coco in his arms while Ethan stood there, stunned and speechless.

I even took Coco from him.

Guilt pooled heavily in his chest. Is he really not going to come to the Reagents? Because of me?

His eyes flicked to the television screen. The countdown numbers flashed boldly, merciless in their precision. The crowd roared. The race was moving forward, with or without Ethan.

Lucian inhaled sharply. Decision settled over him in an instant.

"I’ll go," he said.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.

"I’ll go to his house and check on him. You guys... try to delay the event. Stall it. Say anything." His voice was firm now, steady in a way that surprised even himself. "I’ll bring him here."

Hunter moved before the last word fully left Lucian’s lips. His hand shot out and grabbed Lucian’s wrist , not painfully, but firmly enough to stop him mid-step.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he asked, tone low, controlled, but edged with something darker underneath.

Lucian looked down at Hunter’s grip, then back up at his face.

"To Ethan’s," he replied, pulling his hand free. "I have to bring him here. Ex or not."

The final two words were meant to sound neutral. Logical. They didn’t.

Hunter’s fingers curled slightly after Lucian slipped away, his expression unreadable for a moment , then it hardened, jaw tightening as he stepped back. He didn’t argue. Didn’t stop him again. That silence, more than any protest, carried weight.

Old Man Harris reached into his pocket and tossed a set of keys. They jingled through the air before Lucian caught them on instinct.

"This is for Ethan’s bike you fixed the other time ," Harris said. "Figured he might need it... but looks like you’ll be the one using it first. Good luck bringing him back, kid."

Lucian nodded once. No hesitation left in him now. He turned and rushed out of the room, boots echoing against the concrete floor, the garage door slamming open as a gust of outside air rushed in.

The sound lingered long after he was gone.

Outside, pressed against the side wall just beyond the doorway, Mason stood hidden in the narrow strip of shadow. He’d been there long enough to hear everything , every word, every shift in tone. In his hands, the plastic cup he’d been holding had crumpled under the pressure of his grip, the drink inside sloshing dangerously close to spilling.

He watched Lucian sprint toward the bikes without looking back.

He’s going to Ethan?

The thought twisted bitterly in his chest. His fingers tightened further until the plastic gave a faint crack. The noise was small, but to him it sounded deafening.

From inside the garage, the crowd on the television screamed as the event continued

From outside, Mason stood frozen , not watching the screen, not watching the race...

but watching the direction Lucian had disappeared into, as if the real competition had just started somewhere else entirely.