Chapter Twenty-One
Isley
Laken stared intently out of the window, his posture screaming ‘stay away’.
But then he’d pulled himself together and accepted Isley’s pushing—after he’d used his most effective pleading look—and agreed could come.
This was how he found himself in Laken’s car heading to the family meeting.
Was he dazed and confused, with a soggy shirt collar reminding him—as if he could forget—that Laken had cried all over him? Yes, he was.
Of all the things he thought Laken was going to say to explain why he was canceling, never would it have been sharing his horrendous past. Isley had used all his strength to hold it together while Laken fell apart.
His sobbing uncontrollably against him would surely give Isley nightmares.
Laken always came across as untouchable.
Strong. So put together. To see him like this, damn it hurt.
When he’d buried his face in Isley’s neck and soaked his shirt, nothing, not even the building catching on fire, would have stopped him offering whatever Laken needed.
He was soft-hearted. Somme often said he’d give away his last dollar if asked.
Now, sitting in the car, he was able to realize that taking hold of Laken’s weight had taken its toll.
His back muscles sang an unpleasant protest at the slightest movement.
Whether it was a strain on him or the stress of hearing about Laken’s past, Isley couldn’t decide. He just hurt everywhere.
What Laken must have suffered for being deemed different by those who should love him unconditionally was unimaginable.
Kicked out and left to fend for himself on the streets.
Isley clenched his teeth when the ache at the back of his eyes worsened.
He had to sell himself to eat. Sell parts of his soul to keep himself safe.
It was how Isley imagined it, when that was how it would feel to him.
The more he imagined it, the worse he felt for the boy—the man—who had closed himself off because he felt he wasn’t worthy.
Isley had read between the lines, seeing exactly what had kept Laken closed off.
Determined to keep those walls around him, only letting in his adopted family to protect himself.
Isley didn’t swear often, and he never used the T or the C word. But Laken’s biological family were twatwafflecunts. If he ever met them, he’d tell them that as well.
Go you! cheered his animal.
What was more worrisome right now was how shallow Laken must have thought he was.
Had he really believed Isley would judge him for doing what he needed to survive?
The uneasy answer was yes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that and he’d need to give it some more thought when he hadn’t just been through what felt like an emotional tumble dryer.
The radio played in the background, and Laken didn’t seem inclined to speak, but neither did Isley. He had said it earlier, he didn’t believe platitudes helped. He needed time to regroup. Find a balance in himself to help the man sitting next to him, whether he wanted it or not.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when they arrived at Laken’s home. There was an unnerving feeling in his gut that Laken hadn’t shared everything about his past. And if that was the case, what was he blindly stepping into when Laken’s family surely wouldn’t be expecting him to have Isley in tow.
“Who is going to be at your parent’s house?” he finally asked nervously, as they got nearer. When he said family meeting, did that mean all his brothers and his parents?
“Everyone, including Frey, Ziggy and Hollis,” Laken replied grimly.
His voice sounded strained, and with the dimness in the interior of the car, Isley couldn’t get a good look to fathom out how he felt about the PAs’ attendance.
Would his presence raise questions? He wasn’t sure Laken was ready to talk about them and whatever this was between them.
He needed to know how to respond so as not to put his foot in things.
“Will it be odd, me turning up when not all of the PAs will be there? What do you want me to say?” he questioned timidly.
Laken pulled into the drive, parking behind Kari’s car before he answered. “You’re my PA. The person I’m with the most. It won’t seem strange you being here.”
Isley rubbed absently at his chest at the blunt honesty. What had he been expecting? If he’d been hoping for something more, that wasn’t Laken’s fault.
Isley glanced up at the welcoming, three-story house with all its windows lit up. A Christmas wreath hung from the door, reminding Isley how time had gotten away from him.
At the engine switching off, they were thrown into a tense silence, neither moving. Laken sighed and rubbed at his eyes. In the light, Isley noted they were no longer red, just a little puffy, but the embarrassment remained in their dark depths.
“You haven’t explained what tonight’s about,” he said hesitantly. “Is it to do with what we talked about in your office?”
“Sort of,” Laken replied gruffly, reaching for the car door handle, ending any further conversation.
Only Isley wasn’t quite done and pressed a hand to the tense thigh, forcing Laken to remain seated. He squeezed reassuringly, smiling as brightly as he could manage.
“It won’t change anything between us, whatever ‘sort of’ means. Just so you know.” With that, Isley got out of the car just as Lane appeared, his smile wide and welcoming.
“Isley! Why, this is a pleasant surprise.” Isley was wrapped in a lavender and cookie scented hug. “Please don’t judge Laken harshly,” he whispered in Isley’s ear only loud enough for him to hear.
“I won’t,” he murmured back, unsure of his footing when Lane released him. Laken was watching them with guarded eyes.
Led inside, Isley inhaled the fresh scent of pine, cinnamon, and apple as Lane went to Laken, who came in last and shut the door.
Isley slipped off his jacket and tugged at his damp collar, hoping that no one noticed the soggy patch at his neck.
Lane hugged Laken, his gaze watchful as he pulled back, looking at his son.
“You’ve been crying,” he choked, his eyes flying to Isley, who resisted fidgeting under Lane’s seeking stare.
“Not now Popi, okay?” Laken said, kissing the side of Lane’s head.
He moved stiffly, as if aged somewhat in the last hour, out of Lane’s arms. He came to Isley, taking his coat and hanging it up with a bunch of others on coat hooks by the door.
Laken slipped off his suit jacket, keeping his gaze averted. “Where is everyone?”
“In the kitchen eating tacos.” Lane laughed gaily, but to Isley it sounded forced. “Don’t worry, sweet boy, I’ve enough for you and Isley.”
They were ushered into the chaotic kitchen where everyone seemed to talk at once. Isley was used to big family gatherings, so wasn’t phased by the noise or the interest when Laken’s brothers noted his appearance. There was surprise and possibly even relief when he met Jupiter’s gaze.
Ziggy pointed to the empty seat at the large table, next to him. “Come sit by me, Isley.”
Hollis and Frey gave him curious stares as he took the seat, a plate loaded with tacos quickly placed in front of him.
If the food was good Isley couldn’t have said. He was too focussed on watching Laken out the corner of his eye while nibbling on the taco. Tension radiated off him. His mouth was set in a grim line as he ignored the food in front of him and those trying to engage him in conversation.
When Derick slipped out of the room when his mobile phone rang, Laken stared after him, and Isley got a sense of growing dread.
Minutes later, Derick returned, only he wasn’t alone.
Oakland, the head of security, whom Isley had met several times before, stood silently at his side.
Dressed all in black, the man exuded a dangerous aura.
Tiger eyes missed nothing as they swept the room and stopped on Laken.
What looked like regret flitted across his attractive face before the impenetrable mask slipped back in place.
His appearance shocked the kitchen into silence.
Derick obviously hadn’t told anyone Oakland was returning from Bayfield, where he’d gone to Silas’s ranch with the most vulnerable omegas from Drinkwater.
As the head of Starling Enterprises' security, his being here said this situation—whatever it was—was very serious.
Isley cast his attention back to Laken, working to gauge his reaction, while his own pulse was beating so hard it hurt to take a deep breath. Laken wore a similar look to Oakland, hard and impossible to read.
“Oakland,” Jupiter was the first to say, “good to see you man.”
“Same.” Oakland’s gruff voice always reminded Isley of someone who hadn’t spoken for some time and whose vocal chords weren’t used to being speaking.
“Let’s move this to the family room where there’s more space and I can set up the laptop,” Derick suggested.
Laptop? Was he going to deliver a presentation?
No one asked, so Isley kept his question to himself, moving with everyone else and clearing up before glasses were refilled.
This family room had been kitted out with huge couches, big enough to accommodate all ten family members, there were additional chairs from the dining room sat next to the couches.
Isley had been to the house a few times, and it was evident Lane had expected more people.
Isley took a chair next to Ziggy, and Hollis took the one on the other side of him.
He cast a longing look at Laken, really wanting to go and take hold of his hand.
Offer support for whatever was coming. But he had a strong feeling that would not be welcome in a room full of family, so Isley sat on his hands.