Page 44 of Laken's longing

“I can’t come tonight—”

Isley’s head tilted to the side and Laken witnessed the moment hope died. It punched him in the gut. He visibly flinched when Isley spoke.

“What! You clearly said we would talk about what happened two nights ago,tonight.” Anger snapped in those expressive eyes, but it wasn’t alone. There was hurt, too, And betrayal.

“Are you quite finished having a hissy fit?” he snapped back, anxiety winning out.

Isley’s nostrils flared, and two bright pink dots of color appeared on his cheeks as he nodded curtly. “Of course. Go ahead and explain why you’re avoiding being an adult.”

The sugary sweet tone gave Laken a toothache as he breathed in deeply, holding it to work on his control.

Nice shot, his brothers would be proud!

The anger would be aimed at the wrong person if set free. Isley wasn’t the one blackmailing him. Threatening his world. “I have a family meeting to attend tonight. It’s important.”

The air crackled with tension, like an electrical storm happening between them. “More important than… discussing us?”

It was spoken so quietly, yet Isley might as well have yelled it for the impact it had on Laken’s shuddering heart. Isley made no attempt to hide his obvious sadness.

Laken rubbed his hands over his face, a weariness making his shoulders hunch. The pressure was invisible, but he felt the weight of it pushing against his chest until he could hardly draw breath. The urge to say there was nous,to push Isley out the door of his heart was strong. It fought over the protective layershe’d built to keep himself safe. To keep anyone from finding out his secrets.

Those secrets aren’t secret anymore, are they?

The realization—though he’d known it—sank deeper past the protective shell, which was already cracked, to the fear nestled inside. There was no going back. There was no hiding. When he dropped his hands, he came to a decision. He pointed once more to the chair.

“Please,” he begged, “sit. I can’t do this with you hovering over me.”

There was a long enough pause that Laken thought Isley was going to argue. When he took the seat, the iPad remained clutched to his chest, a defence mechanism Laken recognized from spending so much time with Isley.

The breath he released was all relief and the sound he made softened Isley’s expression.

“I heard Booker talking this morning, was he talking to you?”

Laken started in surprise while his mind ran through the conversation, unsure what of his side of the conversation Isley could have overheard.

“I could only hear Booker,” he replied to the unspoken question, Isley reading him easily. “I was outside his office door on my way to collect Emmy.” The blush covering his delicate skin darkened. “Jupiter caught me, and he got angry—like, real angry. He scared me.”

Laken had tried not to think about how haunted Jupiter had looked, gray and pale, as he’d listened quietly with the others to his story.

“He…” Laken blew out a frustrated breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, at a loss.

Why did this have to be so hard? He’d done it once.

It wasn’t Isley.

A fact he could not deny.

“You don’t need to do this. Clearly it’s upsetting you.” Isley made to stand and Laken shook his head.

“Don’t leave.” Laken’s nose burned at how hope flared in Isley’s eyes as he settled himself back into the chair.

“I’ll stay.” He placed the iPad down, and that action said more than anything how open he was to whatever Laken wanted to say.

He sucked in a breath, an ache developing in the center of his chest as he took a second, then another to steady himself, his hands clenched in his lap for something better to do with them.

“Somehow, I’d always known I differed from my family. It wasn’t one particular thing, just lots of little ones. Where my brothers shifted when they hit puberty, like most shifters, I didn’t. My biological parents had… have no tolerance for divergents and therefore neither did my brothers.” Isley released a sound of distress, and Laken paused to lick his drying lips.Please don’t cry,he silently begged.

“I found myself homeless, with just the clothes on my back and no way to support myself. Feed myself.”