Page 38 of Laken's longing

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 besomeone 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.