Chapter Sixteen
Laken
He’d told Isley the truth, there was something he had to do this evening.
The moment his secretary had brought in the post and he’d seen the envelope marked like the others, he’d decided he was going to have to talk to Dad and Popi.
He couldn’t continue shouldering the burden alone.
Dad and Popi had taught him how essential it was to ask for help when he needed it.
It might have taken him long enough to get to this point, but he’d gotten there in the end, and that was before he’d seen the fourth picture.
Fuck, it was the worst yet.
The camera caught his glazed eyes, bruises he seen with something dark, while he was spit roasted between two big dudes who Laken had no recollection of.
He’d spent the whole twenty-four hours they’d used him in a drug haze that still left gaps in his memory.
Most of the two years he lived on the streets he wished for no memories, but they were a hazy mess.
They’d abandoned him in a dirty alleyway and he’d come to, starving, covered in more bruises, and his ass too painful to even walk.
He’d ended up begging on the streets and that was when Lester from Craigend House had found him.
He’d offered him a bed, but Laken trusted no one at that point.
When Lester came back with Lane, there had been something about him that screamed ‘trust me’ and eventually he had given in to Popi’s overwhelming charm and genuine niceness.
No one could fight it. They had offered a new life.
A life that gave him family to trust and love him no matter what.
The contents of that brown envelope today were the reminder he needed: they loved him no matter what the circumstances.
Whoever it was, they were going for the kill shot.
A million for their silence. He gave a harsh laugh.
He could easily liquidate assets to free up enough cash to add to his deposit account to give them what they wanted in the two-day time frame.
He could ask any one of his brothers, or his parents for the money.
It was easy, too easy. The assholes knew their target.
He recognized that they’d fucking worked to induce fear and make him pliable.
What they’d actually done was fuck him off.
After what had happened between him and Isley, it was tempting to give in and pay the money.
Pretend that life was all roses, take what he wanted with Isley, when it would never be real.
When he would be looking back over his shoulder forever—waiting.
The threat would remain, and if he paid, he’d have to continue for the rest of his life. It would never be the end of it.
When Isley had left this evening, he’d considered what his actions were going to be while packing up his things to leave and go home.
Trust. It was time he acted like the man they’d raised.
Popi and Dad built everything on it in their home.
His home. His family. Love was part of the foundation, but trust it was what wove it all together.
Trusting to have each other’s back when the shit hit.
Taylin, Booker, Silas and Kari of late had needed support, and had trusted him and his brothers to have their backs.
As much as he’d like to deal with this issue on his own and keep his family out of it, it would hurt Dad and Popi, and his brothers, when confronted with the fallout because he hadn’t been honest. He was no different to his brothers, he reminded himself, it was just his turn to ask for help.
If it felt hard, then that was part of life, and he had to suck that fucker up.
He kept that at the forefront of his mind as he drove home.
He parked up, took a deep breath and reached for the envelope he’d stashed all the pictures in.
Giving it one last look, he tucked it into his laptop bag and exited the car.
Locking it, he strode into the house, closed the door, and placed his laptop bag on the side table.
“Dad,” he called out before he could find a distraction to delay the inevitable.
“Shush, I’ve just got Emmy to sleep,” Booker hissed over the top of the flight of stairs, running down towards him, hair flying, his top covered in what looked like baby vomit.
Yuck.
“Sorry,” Laken muttered, irked that he hadn’t thought about the lateness of the hour and Emmy’s nightly routine. “Is Dad about?”
Booker gave him an assessing look, his eyes narrowing. “What gives?”
“I just need to talk to Dad and Popi,” he said, exasperated at the guilty feeling that his past could hurt Booker and touch his daughter in some way.
“They’re in the kitchen. Popi is making pizza.”
“Thanks.” Laken rooted out the envelope and strode off towards the kitchen. He paused after two steps when Booker followed in his wake.
“Where are you going?” Christ, he wanted to do this with just Dad and Popi first.
“To the kitchen, to find out what gives.”
Why did he think this was going to go his way with his current luck?
Booker pushed past, and Laken released a hissed curse and marched after him, seeing no way around it unless he waited until later.
“This is none of your business, Booker,” he tried.
He didn’t stop or glance back, instead he shook his head. “Whatever’s up, your expression says differently.”
Laken’s jaw clenched, and he ground his teeth together, continuing behind Booker.
In the kitchen, his nerve nearly left him when he saw Kodi sitting at the table next to Jupiter, sharing a pepperoni pizza while Popi was laughing and building another pizza at the counter.
Flour coated most of the surface and Popi’s apron, along with some on one of his cheeks.
Dad lounged back on his seat sipping a glass of red wine.
It was all so domesticated. Normal. His childhood held many memories of this kitchen and meals consumed while the room echoed with laughter.
They all looked so happy, he should delay.
Don’t back out now. The clock is ticking, and you promised to talk to Isley tomorrow, don’t forget!
How could he!
Even knowing this needed to happen, he took a step back but then Booker announced to the room, “Laken’s got a problem.”
“Fucksake, Booker,” he snapped when everyone glanced in his direction, giving him varying degrees of concerned looks, halting him mid retreat. Because fuck, Dad was looking at him with that knowing stare that said lying wasn’t an option.
“What problem?” Dad was the first to ask.
Kodi didn’t stop munching, but his attention was alert, and his animal spirit was there in his eyes, assessing for a threat. Jupiter eyed him with speculation, but there was sympathy there too.
He heaved a sigh and strode to Dad to place the envelope on the table in front of him, not wanting Popi to see the content—fuck, he didn’t want anyone to see it.
Dad moved his wine glass to the side and opened the envelope. One scan of the contents he removed, and when he met Laken’s gaze, there was the anger he’d expected. “When did you get these?”
“The letter with the demand today, the others since I got back from Paris,” he stated, witnessing a flash of hurt.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushed to explain.
“Demand. What are we talking about?” Popi bustled over, rubbing flour off on his apron and coming around Dad’s shoulder to look down at what he was holding.
Laken could see from the bleaching of color from Popi’s face and the look of distress it was one of the pictures of him doing…
He couldn’t, his brain refused to process the thought as he looked away, unable to witness Popi’s tears. Kodi and Booker crowded him, caging him in, making it impossible to escape. That was all he wanted to do. Escape the shame.
“I thought—hoped I managed to get them all,” Dad said in a broken tone that drew Laken’s gaze, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs.
“You what?” Laken whispered, heart trying to break through his chest with how fast it beat at what those words meant.
He’d known—they’d known all along.
Had Dad paid to keep them silent? “They didn’t—”
“No son, they didn’t blackmail me.”
Laken scrambled to play catch up, not paying attention to the gasps coming from his brothers. “Then how…”
“Did I know?” Dad asked, and Laken nodded, doing his best not to look at Popi.
He was shaking so hard in distress that Jupiter got up to take hold of him.
“When you came into our family, I did a background check to know if there would be someone who would try to take you from us. To assess any threat to you that needed dealing with. We knew from the beginning you were ours and we would adopt you if you wanted it.”
It was said so simply, but the impact was nonetheless enough to make his legs weaken.
He staggered back, only to be caught by Booker, who helped him to the seat Jupiter had vacated.
They’d wanted to keep him safe. He swallowed back the sob crawling up his throat.
He’d known this. Having it said so clearly that being biologically different, cellular level, meant nothing to these men, it was everything.
His eyes ached with the tears wanting to fall, because seriously… fuck biology.
“Get him a glass of whiskey,” said Popi in a teary voice that upped the ante on his emotional discomfort.
“No whiskey. After the other day, I couldn't stomach it.” He waved off Popi’s suggestion.
Booker went to the refrigerator and pulled out a six-pack of beer, offered him one first, then handed out the others. When Kari and Jupiter went over to see what Laken had given Dad, he didn’t protest.
“So what’s the plan of action?” asked Booker, unscrewing his beer.
The door swished open and Frey walked in wearing spotted pyjama bottoms and a white T-shirt, hair wet from a recent shower, looking sweet and innocent. Living in the house with him, and being traumatized by his heats, they all knew sweet and innocent were two things he wasn’t.
“Plan of action for what?” he directed at Booker, a glint of warning in his eyes. Frey might be small and cute, but he had more than a handle on his mate.
Laken cursed under his breath at recognizing he wasn’t going to be able to keep this from going beyond this room. If Frey knew then Isley would find out, it was only a matter of time.
One thing at a time.
Booker met Laken’s stare and shrugged, giving him a look to indicate it was his show. “On how to deal with a problem I’ve got. One I don’t want discussing with anyone outside of the family unless I say differently,” he said pointedly to Frey.
Popi sniffed and rubbed the back of his floury hand over his nose, turning the rosiness white with powder. “Your Dad will sort this good-for-nothing blackmailer for trying to mess with our family.”
Frey squeaked in alarm, and Booker placed his beer down and hustled to him before Laken could blink twice.
Next, he was lifting Frey so he could slide his legs around his waist and cling on.
Booker whispered something in his ear only Frey could hear.
Laken figured it had something to do with the situation when his eyes glistened with unshed tears and he glanced at Laken, giving him a wobbly smile.
“I won’t say anything, I swear on Emmy’s life. ”
Laken sucked his top lip between his teeth to hold back the urge to cry. Booker was a lucky man.
Popi came over and wrapped his dirty hands around Laken’s shoulders to kiss the top of Laken’s head. “Have you eaten? Let’s make you a pizza.”
As Laken shook his head to the question he hadn’t been given a chance to answer, Popi sniffed again, wiping at the flour on the suit jacket, making it worse by smearing it all over the place.
Laken reached up to take hold of the trembling hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “It’s fine Popi, I’ll get it laundered.”
“My love, it’s all going to be fine,” Dad assured Popi, encouraging him back to the counter. “We’ll have a family meeting. I’ll ring—”
“Dad, please—”
“Family, Laken. You stood with your brothers when they needed you, the same goes for this. There’ll be no surprises then. We deal with this together,” he stated firmly.
He didn’t argue.
“These pictures, when were they taken?” Kodi questioned, waving one at Laken, wearing a wary expression.
Laken took a swig of his beer, thinking of that night, his eyes focused on the past. “When I was fourteen, I was hustling the streets for a trick. I hadn’t eaten in days and I was desperate.
The guy set me up, and while I was blowing him, I was attacked from behind and injected with drugs…
” his voice was flat, emotionless as he talked about what he had been through to survive. Would Isley understand?
He fucking hoped so.