Page 32 of Small-Town Secrets
It was the kitchen. Laurence stood in the corner by the sink. His face was contorted in an angry snarl, and for some reason, he was clutching a blue toaster to his chest. His asshole of a cousin stood only a few feet away from him, holding a... was that a frying pan?
I had barely a second to think about what Gregory was holding in his hand, because he was raising it at Laurence and my brain short-circuited.
Like a dog gone mad with rabies, I launched myself at Gregory. He shrieked—possibly the least manly sound I'd ever heard—as we both tumbled to the ground. Anger flashed in his eyes as soon as he realized what was happening, but it was too late for him. I had the asshole on the ground and he wasn't getting up unless I wanted him to.
"Aaron!"
I heard Laurence calling my name but I ignored him—for now. I wasn't done with his scumbag cousin yet. "Don't ever fucking lay a hand on him, okay?" I growled at Gregory. He glared at me as if he was about to bite my nose off. If I hadn't spent one half of my life training in martial arts and the other half wrestling with dogs, he might have intimidated me. As it was though, he wasn't impressing me one bit. This asshole had threatened Laurence, and I wasn't going to let him get away with that. Laurence had been through enough and he didn't deserve this. He deserved to be loved and cherished and protected.
Gregory bucked under me, trying to throw me off. "Get off me, asshole!" One of his fists flew toward my face. I caught it in mid-air.
"Did you really think it was going to be that easy?" I scoffed. "You can't touch me, and if you ever touch Laurence again, I'll make sure you'll never eat solid foods again."
Gregory only grunted.
"Did you get that?" I demanded, yanking his head up by his hair because I knew most lessons didn't stick the first time. "If you fuck with Laurence—"
"Is that because you want to fuck him?" Gregory sneered.
I punched him.
He howled.
"Aaron!" Laurence yelled again. Alright then. I'd probably made my point. Letting go of Gregory, I got up from the floor. By now, Laurence had put the toaster back where it belonged and he wasn't looking so upset anymore.
Which didn't mean that I didn't want to check him over for scrapes or bruises anyway. My stomach turned to knots again at the thought that any harm might have come to him. It took Laurence grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the kitchen to get my brain to move on from that image.
Cavemen instincts. I needed to make sure that my omega was safe.
My omega
I shouldn't be thinking of Laurence like that.
But I couldn't help myself. At least not right then.
"Are you okay?" I asked Laurence as he led me into a different room. I wasn't registeringwhatroom. "I heard you scream."
"I'm fine." Laurence started to lift a hand toward his cheek but dropped it again. "He scared me. I shouldn't have let him." He sighed. "And I shouldn't have punched him. That's what started all this." His shoulders slumped. "I really thought I could make this work, but I've ruined everything." Laurence walked farther into the room, away from me, and let himself sink onto the sofa.
"You can't blame yourself for the fact that your cousin is an asshole."
"I don't know." Laurence buried his head in his hands. "Maybe I shouldn't have moved in with him in the first place, but what choice did I have?" He exhaled and looked up at me through bangs of caramel-colored hair falling into his face. "All I want is for my children to have a happy home. I can take any sacrifice for them. I just don't know what to do."
You shouldn't have to sacrifice.
That was the first thought in my head, but not the first words from my lips.
When Laurence looked at me like that, like he didn't know his place in the world anymore—or like he'dneverknown his place in the world at all, I wanted nothing more than to help. Make him feel like he belonged. Because in my heart of hearts, I knew that he belongedwith me.
So I held my hand out to him. "Move in with me."
14
Laurence
Istaredat Aaron's outstretched hand. Was he being serious? He couldn't be, could he? But he wasn't taking his hand away and when I eyed his face, his dark gaze and his strong jaw, he gave me no indication that he was joking.
Holy shit. He was serious.
