Page 45 of Laken's longing

As he said it, he could recall that dirty stench of filth that emanated from him after weeks of living on the streets. Remember the painful hunger cramps that made it impossible to sleep. Not that he could have with the terror of those first few weeks—months—alone on the streets. It was hard to find the exact moment he chose to fight to survive when all he’d wanted was to die at the pain of that absolute rejection. The look in his family's eyes that spoke to him being dead to them because he was different—nothing. To know that he was utterly alone, and no one cared whether he lived or died.

“How long?” Isley choked out, eyes glistening.

Laken understood the question. “Two years.”

Isley bit his lower lip and Laken could scent the coppery blood before red oozed around his pearly white teeth.

“I’m not telling you this to gain sympathy, I… I…” Laken got up and strode to the window, hands shoved into his trouser pockets. Looking out, he could see nothing but the reflection of Isley’s tear laden eyes. Ones he couldn’t bring himself to meet when there was worse to come.

“I s-survived… by any means I could… b-by selling m-myself.” The shocked gasp-sob at his stuttered confession kept him rooted, unable to face the man behind him and see the condemnation for his actions. Some days, Laken couldn’t look at himself either.

He stiffened at the hand touching his arm. The layers of fabric between it and his skin didn’t prevent the warmth seeping through. He shuddered and reluctantly turned towards Isley when he wedged himself around Laken. Tears clung to long, dark eyelashes. Sorrow surrounded Isley but when Laken searched he witnessed no judgement. His jaw ached at his own struggle to hold back a tide of emotions roaring through him like a thrashing, volatile sea.

“You did those things to survive. Do you believe I’d think less of you for it?” He reached up and cupped Laken’s bearded cheeks and held him firmly so he couldn’t look away from tear-drenched eyes that cut him open and left him bleeding as he nodded. “I don’t know what it’s like to be rejected, and I won’t offer silly platitudes. But know this, nothing in your past changes who you are in the present. You aren’t the same person you were then. None of us are. Every day we are shaped by experiences and they change us. Some for the good and some for the bad. You haven’t let it define you, the bad. You fought to find your place in the world. Find those things you want to cherish. Work hard for. You work harder than anyone I know, including your dad. You take nothing for granted, Laken. Those wonderful qualities are what your past gave you. They are the sum of whoyou are, not the actions of a boy working to survive an awful situation.”

Thumbs wiped at his cheeks, and it was only then Laken realized he was crying. Isley’s words had taken him apart at his very core. Ripped open the past and left him bare—exposed by the simplicity of his thinking. Others would not be so kind.

They don’t matter.

Popi, therapy, and his brothers hadn’t made him cry, not once. They hadn’t brought out the black ooze festering inside his soul. He had never allowed it to escape, by hiding from things that couldn’t be changed.Can’t be changed.

The choked, anguished sound he made was that of a wounded animal. He couldn’t stop the next anguished cry, or the next. Once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. He shook uncontrollably at the sudden release. Isley moved his body closer. His diminutive size didn’t stop him from taking control and supporting Laken’s trembling limbs, tugging his body into him to take his weight, hands slipping around him, holding tightly.

“Hold on to me. I’m here for you, my love.” Those whispered words undid him as he sobbed into his neck, clinging unashamedly.

“Is tonight’s family meeting… connected to this? To you?”

Laken couldn’t find a voice to speak with how thick and raw his throat felt. He gave a jerky nod against Isley’s neck.

“Then I’m coming too. And before you feel the need to argue, remember my animal is not meant to be trifled with.”

How was it possible to release a wet chuckle? This was the wonder ofhistiny devil. He didn’t argue. He had no strength to.

If that’s what he needed to tell himself, so be it.

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.