Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Lucas
The labs are one of my favorite places in the world. If I’m not here, home is the other. I’m seeing how chemical compounds work together, losing time as I figure out a way to keep anyone from hurting my omega.
A forced heat is a lie. It makes an omega believe that she’ll do anything for the alphas using her. It’s one of the worst offenses anyone can yield against an omega. It’s disgusting, and I can understand why my girl is worried about this.
So I stay up and work for three consecutive nights once everyone else has gone home, only returning to the apartment I have for three hour cat naps.
Cleaning up my station, I manage my notes and take them with me. My laboratory, my company, my intellectual property. I will not be leaving any of my findings here. I haven’t really run into anyone either because I took over a lab that doesn’t get much use.
There are others that have fancier equipment, better tools, but I don’t need any of that. I just need to find what works together to ensure that they can’t jump start an abnormal heat. Stepping out of the lab, I find Grant leaning against the wall, waiting for me.
“Ready for a nap?” he asks. At my surprised look, he shrugs. “You’d be happier if you’d found something, and you have a pattern now, Lucas.”
He’s not wrong.
“It’s not a cut and dry situation,” I sigh. “It may take longer than a few days with how complicated an omega’s system is. Then I have to go through trials to ensure this actually will work. I can’t fuck this up.”
“I know,” Grant says, blowing out a breath. “We’ll both be miserable if we’re away from home for too long. Let’s go back, maybe look into outfitting a small building into a laboratory on the property? I don’t know what the best option is.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, beginning to walk with him toward the front of the building to leave. I slip my notebook into the briefcase he’s carrying for me and his hand tightens around the strap before relaxing infinitesimally.
It’s safe to say he knows the importance of this briefcase. We’ve had the same routine for the last three days, and I know we both are ready for a small break. I’m not going to be able to help anyone if I keep this up while still running a company.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I admit. “It’s making me nervous working here since it’s well known I don't have the time to devote to lab work anymore. Every day we come in, I get weird looks.”
We both pull off the booties that cover our shoes and toss them before walking out the doors of the lab with a nod at security. The same people that are giving us a side eye. Jesus, this is ridiculous.
“I see what you mean,” Grant grunts. “They’re all under iron clad non-disclosure agreements that are designed to cover the labs as well as everything that happens within it.
If someone says anything to leak your movements, we’ll find them.
My concern is how fucked it is that they’re so interested in your movements. ”
Walking toward our car, I shrug.
“I’m not usually here unless I’ve cleared my schedule for something,” I remind him.
“Then, they no longer need to see you,” Grant decides, touching the driver side door so it’ll immediately unlock.
Getting into the SUV, I yawn as I close the door behind me and pull my seat belt over me.
“Are you good to drive home?” I ask.
“The apartment or our actual home?” he asks.
“Actual,” I mutter sleepily.
“Yeah, I’m good to drive,” he says.
There is a long silence, and I begin to fall asleep as Grant gets the car moving.
“Lucas,” he says urgently, making me force myself to pull back out of the haze of sleep.
“Humph,” I gasp.
“You can’t go to sleep yet.”
“Fuck,” I groan, blinking my eyes. It’s hard to struggle out of the pull of sleep once I surrender to it. It’s as if I’m cutting the strings of my determination to stay awake. “You know how I get.”
“I know you so well it’s disgusting,” he admits. “I need to tell you something. Isolde called with some news.”
“When?” I ask.
I know Grant can keep things from me if he thinks it may derail my current plans. Ugh, did he do it with Isolde?
“Three days ago,” he rasps, clearing his throat.
“You motherfucker,” I growl. “Is she okay? You told me that she was back, I’ve texted with her. Why didn’t she tell me?”
“I asked her to let me do it,” he confesses. “I still think that seeing may be believing. It’s…wild.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” I ask, shifting in my seat to look at him. I usually sit in the back seat, but I’m glad I didn’t.
I need to be able to fully look at him.
“Is she physically safe?” I ask him. “Did she hurt herself?”
“No. She finished fairly quickly with her job,” he says.
I haven’t been messaging her much since I’ve been working in the lab and on company shit. I still have video calls while I split my focus. However, I don’t care. This is important.
“Spill,” I growl.
Unlocking his phone, he clicks on a photo album and hands it to me. It’s titled Leila, which confuses me more, until I swipe to the right. A baby with big blue eyes, blonde curls, and pale skin looks back at me.
Continuing to swipe, I see Isolde giving her a bath, holding her, doing something where she’s on her tummy with her.
My brows wrinkle as I see Alesso and Oliver holding her with stars in their eyes, making my heart flip flop.
“Does Isolde have a baby she didn’t tell us about?” I ask, confused. “I don’t—”
“No.” Grant swallows thickly as he focuses on the road, almost refusing to look at me. “Over the last few days, I’ve been able to get the entire story. It was difficult to get a secure line.”
“And?” I ask, practically snarling with impatience. I think I’ve waited too long as it is.
Three fucking days to be quite honest.
“She was in the middle of her job, burning building in full swing, when she heard this baby begin screaming,” Grant says.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper, the anger bleeding out of me. If I’d known before this, my ass would have already been home.
“They’re both fine. Oliver insisted on calling a private doctor in to check them both, and paid him well to forget them,” Grant explains.
“Isolde thinks she killed the father and maybe the mom dropped the baby off for some reason. The person who hired her swore there wasn’t supposed to be children there. ”
“Well he was wrong.” I’m definitely awake now and in shock as I continue scrolling through photos. “So she brought the baby home?”
“Yep. That’s our baby now,” Grant says.
“Our…” Blinking, I shake my head as I try to catch up. “What about her mom?”
“Isolde said she’ll be a better mother than a tramp who left her baby at a clubhouse when they were partying,” he says. “We can’t prove the person knew, but logic states that based on the amount of clothing and diapers in the bag, it was supposed to be at least a few days' stay.”
“Some people are no better than cats for mothers,” I mutter. “Is it legal to just appropriate a child?”
“Does that matter when your pack mate can create a history for said child?” Grant chuckles. It’s not a happy laugh though, he’s still tense and nervous. “I’m sorry I kept this shit from you. I think I’m still processing too. I asked them to send us photos.”
“Is it really ‘us’ when you’re hiding this from me?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, it is. I have been looking out for your best interests for a long goddamned time. I knew you’d want to return immediately if you knew,” he says.
“True,” I sigh. “Fuck, I really do want to be home.”
It’s four in the morning, the sky is dark, and I’m unsure if anyone will be awake by the time I arrive.
“I know,” he grunts, his foot getting heavier as the speedometer rises. “Working on it.”
Instead of sleeping, I gaze at the snowy darkness as the miles pass.
Grant knows me very well, but I’m still pissed off. If this baby…
“What is her name?” I ask suddenly.
“Leila,” he says, not skipping a beat. “Isolde named her because anyone who may have known her name at the clubhouse was dead.”
“That sounds fair,” I say, ignoring the irony.
While I may appear to live on the straight and narrow, I have no issues bending, breaking, and steamrolling over rules when I need to. I simply hide it really well.
Rita opens the front door quietly as Grant and I get out of the SUV, bustling forward to take our overnight bags.
“Rita,” Grant says, ready to fight her over doing his laundry.
“Hush,” she snaps goodnaturedly. “Go up and shower before you see everyone else. I can smell the chemicals on you, sir.”
That’s directed at me. Ugh. I should have thought of that.
“I’m headed up there,” I promise. “Where is Isolde?”
“At her house,” Rita says, shooing us inside. “Where did you think she’d be?”
“Well, here,” I say, my brows knitting together. Clearly, I’ve missed something.
“She won’t stay unless she’s exhausted and falls asleep,” Rita explains, shutting the door behind us. “I expect you know why.”
“I need an appointment with a contractor,” I growl.
“I’ll get you one,” Grant says.
I begin to open my mouth because I didn’t mean that he would need to do it, and he pushes me toward the stairs.
“The little nightmare is here to stay, may as well make her a house she’ll be happy with,” he adds. “It is safe to say that I no longer feel the way I did before. Isolde is too good at her job to be an issue for your public image. She also has no interest in your money.”
“She’s pretty flush with cash flow I would think,” I grumble, walking up the stairs. “Isolde doesn’t need mine. That doesn’t mean I won’t still try to spoil her.”
“Well, I don’t have to try,” Grant shrugs. “I had things delivered to her house.”
“Goddamn it, Grant. You’re seriously not going to tell me where that is?”
“Nope. But, I’m going there after I shower. Hurry the fuck up, Ken. Don’t primp so much.”
I curse under my breath as I hurry to my shower, because I’m not a fucking doll. God, he’s such a dick.