17. Deke
Deke stared up at the gothic church before him, an odd sense of foreboding settling in his chest. He’d spent so many Sundays in this place, squirming in the pew next to his father while the man threatened to knock him into next week if he didn’t pay attention. Ironic that someone as abusive as his father was such a devout Catholic.
Ollie stood beside him, his cool hand clasped in Deke’s sweaty one, watching him carefully. He knew the pack all waited for him to make a decision. They would turn around and go back home if he wanted to. Deke wasn’t sure what he wanted, honestly. He’d thought he’d come there and show off a little. He was an alpha. Mated. Settled into a pack. But now, it all just felt…unnecessary. What did he have to prove to these assholes?
People eyed him curiously as they passed, like they were trying to place him, but nobody stopped to inquire about who he was. Deke watched them back. Men in ill-fitting polo shirts that barely covered their paunches. Men in tracksuits, looking like extras from a mob movie. Men in jeans and stained t-shirts that looked like they came straight from a job site. Though to be fair, they probably had.
The few women in attendance had put in far more effort, though that effort ran the gambit as well. Some wore jeans and knee-high boots with scarves and sweaters. Some wore dresses that barely covered their asses. And then there were the moms in their tight black sweaters and black pants, wrangling the children out of the church and yelling at them to go play on the playground around back.
His mother used to be one of those moms. Always looking frantic and harried like she had too much to do and no time to do it. But she always had a smile on her face, even if it was just for show. A sense of longing punched him in the solar plexus, knocking the air from him. What did it say about him that he was standing at his father’s memorial and missing his mother?
“Interesting crowd,” Seth murmured.
“All my dad’s friends were fucking losers and criminals,” Deke clarified loudly, earning looks from said losers and criminals.
“Deacon?”
Deke’s head snapped up at the sound of his name, eyes landing on a middle-aged man with blond hair that was gray at the temples. He stood like a sentry at the church doors in jeans and a black shirt with a white collar.
“Father Altena,” Deke said without thought.
Deke sighed, then marched up the five concrete steps, stopping before the man. How long had it been since he had let his father drag him to church? Five years? Six?
Deke flinched as the priest reached down and grabbed Deke’s free hand in his.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” the father said. “Dutch was a…force to be reckoned with.”
Deke snorted. “Sure was.”
Father Altena looked down to where Deke’s hand clasped Ollie’s before his gaze strayed to the others. “Who do we have here?”
Deke shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, um. This is my mate, Ollie,” he said awkwardly. “And the rest of my pack.”
The others gave a half wave, receiving a curious one in return.
“Pack? Mate?” Father Altena questioned, his surprise evident. “Your father and brothers didn’t mention any of that.” He huffed out a nervous laugh. “You boys have been busy.”
Deke frowned. Boys? What did that mean? Before he could think too much about it, the man’s gaze dropped to Ollie’s stomach. Deke’s pulse shot up. Ollie’s barely-there bump was well hidden beneath his olive green sweater, but there was no missing the heartbeat if one was so inclined to listen for it. Still, it was rude to bring it up in polite company if their parents didn’t, so all the priest could do was look from his belly to Deke expectantly like he was waiting for the happy news.
Deke’s hand tightened around Ollie’s, and he took a step in front of him, shielding him with his body. The priest blinked in confusion, but Deke didn’t care. Nobody was going to make Ollie uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable than anticipated, anyway.
“Are my brothers inside?” Deke finally asked.
Father Altena grimaced. “They’re around here somewhere. All but Abe. But be careful. They’ve been…um, self-medicating a bit.”
Deke groaned. “Of course, they have.”
Deke and Ollie entered the church first but the pack stayed close. The church hadn’t changed a bit. A pair of large wooden doors opened into a lobby with mile-high stained glass windows depicting things like the crucifixion and resurrection. The floors were marble and there was a huge fountain that sat burbling in the center. As people entered, they dipped their fingers, making a sign of the cross.
Some people hovered in the lobby, chatting. Others sat in pews, heads bowed in prayer. Occasionally, a loud laugh would echo through the space, drawing people’s attention. It looked more like a support group for gamblers than an actual memorial, which seemed fitting for his shithead father.
Deke stiffened as a particularly obnoxious laugh reached his ears. He scanned the room, stiffening further as his gaze fell on four of his middle brothers: Peter, Maxim, Roan, and Joah. His four most vocal tormentors. They were standing by the casket, passing a flask between them like they weren’t in an actual church. He felt the moment they noticed him back, the hair on his arms standing on end.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“You sure you want to do this?” Ollie asked, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived.
“No, but let’s just get this over with.”
Deke moved forward warily, eyes not on his brothers but on the large photo posed beside the casket. They had almost managed to make his father look like a human being with feelings. Only when they reached the front did Deke spare the walnut box a glance before giving his four brothers his full attention.
Roan was the first to speak, the sword tattoo down the center of his throat bobbing with each word. “Well, well. Look who decided to show up.”
Deke rolled his eyes. “Don’t start,” he said. “I just came to pay my respects, then I’m leaving.”
Roan snorted, staggering the tiniest bit. “Why bother? You didn’t give a fuck about Dad when he was alive. Why start now?”
“No, Dad didn’t give a fuck about me . And you’re the ones who kicked me out, remember?” Deke said, voice carrying in the cavernous space.
Joah rolled his eyes, clearly trying to look cool, but Deke couldn’t help but notice that the buttons on his shirt were mismatched. Idiot.
“We told you Dad wanted you home,” Max said. “You didn’t even bother to answer. You fucking blocked us.”
Talk about revisionist history. Now, all of a sudden, Deke was the one who left them? Deke was the bad guy? Fuck that. “You demanded I come get my shit then, when I didn’t, you said Dad burned it. None of you even wanted me here.”
“That’s because you were a whiny little unpresented bitch who made everything about him,” Roan said.
Deke lurched forward without thought, seething. Ollie wrapped an arm around his, pulling him back. “Don’t. They’re not worth it.”
Joah eyed Ollie up and down. “Now, who do we have here?”
“Back up,” Deke growled, pulling Ollie slightly behind him.
“Ho-ly shit,” Max said, then whistled. “Our baby brother finally went and presented…as an alpha. Well, I’ll be damned. Welcome to the club, little brother.”
Deke snorted. Was that all it took? He was an alpha and, suddenly, all was forgiven? He hated these people. Why had he ever thought he could make some kind of peace with who they were? Even if they were willing to accept him now, he had no interest in forgiving them. Ever.
“And got himself mated,” Roan added, giving Ollie a thorough once-over that made Deke feel sick.
“Well, isn’t he pretty,” Max sneered, reaching to touch Ollie’s mating mark.
Ollie batted his hand away, giving him a warning look. Max gave a low rumble from deep in his chest, looking at Deke. “Control your bitch.”
Deke seethed, his hand clenching into a fist. But before he could punch his brother in his mouth, Ollie took a step forward, giving Max a sneer of his own. “This bitch is a combat medic who did two tours in the desert. Control me yourself, you fucking coward,” Ollie said, looking Deke’s brother up and down just as he had him.
Max took a step back, looking confused. “I-I thought you were an omega. You smell like an omega.”
Ollie’s scent soured as he realized his mistake. Loch, Binnie, and Saint came to stand directly behind him. Fenny pulled Ollie behind them.
Joah crept closer, staring hard at Ollie, his gaze dropping to Ollie’s belly. Fuck. Suddenly, Seth’s hand went to his own belly, like he was the pregnant one, not Ollie. Joah cut his eyes away from the two. He was going to kiss Seth when they were finally away from this place.
“We should go. This was a bad idea,” Deke said. “There’s nothing left for me here.”
“Not even going to say hi to the rest of the family?” Roan asked as yet another of his brothers—Dion—walked over to join them.
“Why bother? I’ve unblocked your numbers. They can just hurl their insults at me from there, like the good old days,” Deke said.
“You’re so fucking sensitive. I thought you’d toughen up some after you presented, but you’re still such a little bitch. Man up. We’re just messing with you,” Dion said.
Dion was not a talker, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat. He’d spent his entire life tormenting Deke with all manner of childish antics. It had started with shoving his head in toilets, holding him down and spitting on his face, shaving his head in his sleep. But it had eventually graduated to full-blown violence, all under the guise of rough-housing.
Man up. How many times had he heard his brothers say that to him? A thousand? Usually, while he was nursing a black eye or had wads of toilet paper shoved up his nose to stop the bleeding. It had always come so easy for them. They’d always embraced his father’s hit-first-ask-questions-later philosophy.
“There’s nothing more to say,” Deke said.
Before he could turn to leave, Roan grabbed his shoulder. “We’re not done talking.”
Loch, Binnie, and Saint growled low. Their warning was clear. Hands off.
Max looked at them with confusion and hostility. “Who the fuck are you? His bodyguards?” he asked.
“They’re my pack,” Deke answered.
“Pack?” his brothers echoed at once.
It would have been comical if Deke didn’t feel like he was two seconds from puking up every single thing he’d eaten that day. Why the fuck had he thought this was a good idea?
“Jesus, you have been busy,” someone said from behind them. “Last presented and first claimed.”
Deke’s heart skipped in his chest. He took in his own inky black hair and hazel eyes. “Bas?”
“Hey, baby brother. Long time, no see.”
His oldest brother was thirty-two, tall and broad like most alphas, but unlike Deke’s other brothers, Bas had taken off a few years ago. He still had a bedroom that went untouched; his father had been certain that his golden child would come back to them and continue to live there even once he’d mated and had children.
Bas looked nothing like the last time Deke had seen him. He wore tailored black pants and a white button down beneath a camel-colored coat. He looked like the finance bros that often worked downtown.
He wasn’t alone either.
A girl about his age stood beside him, holding his hand. She was a beta. She had golden blonde hair, sparkling pool blue eyes, and a tan that made Deke think she was an outdoor enthusiast. He’d never seen the girl before. But he guessed that wasn’t unusual.
Bas hadn’t been as bad as the others—their age gap had meant plenty of other targets for him to focus on besides Deke. Bas was more like some guy who lived in the same house as him than he was a brother, but still, it was better than getting beat up by him.
“Who’s that?” Fenny asked.
“My oldest brother,” Deke managed.
Max sneered. “The only sibling who disappeared more than the baby.”
The blonde girl gave him a disgusted look. “Oh, look. Max is drunk…again.”
Max snorted, but his glassy eyes would have told Deke she was right even if Father Altera hadn’t already warned him.
“Why are you even here, Barbie?” Roan asked. “Dad fucking hated you.”
“Sounds like a glowing review to me,” Deke said.
The girl gave Deke a smile, then turned to Max. “Your father hated any girl who wasn’t offering him happy endings or sliding down a pole begging for dollar bills in her g-string, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Dad would have flipped to see his oldest and his youngest settled down with betas,” Joah said.
“Good thing he’s dead then, huh?” Bas scoffed, sounding not even a little bit upset at their father’s demise.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Dion snarled, pushing through their brothers to get at Bas.
To his credit, Bas only looked bored. “What are you going to do, D? Beat me up? Can you really afford that? Aren’t you still on parole?”
That brought Dion up short. He was on parole. Three felony assault charges. He’d done six months but was released due to overcrowding.
“You think you’re such hot shit because you went and got yourself a fancy fucking doctor girlfriend and her fancy fucking father gave you a job like you’re some kind of nepo baby. You’re still trash, just like the rest of us. No thousand dollar coat will change that,” Dion raged.
Bas lifted his—girlfriend’s?—hand, kissing the back of it before he released it and stepped towards Deke. The pack parted, clearly not deeming Bas a viable threat.
“Let’s talk outside?” Bas said.
Deke shot one last look at his brothers, then the casket, then sighed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s.”
When they headed towards the door, the pack followed. Bas looked back at them in confusion.
Deke shrugged. “They go where I go.”
Bas raised his hands in surrender. “The more the merrier.”
“Did he say she was a doctor?” Deke heard Seth whisper to Fen.
Had he?
Interesting.