His Secret Billionaire Omega_M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG Page 5

  Nope. I wasn’t going to wander down that path.

  “It is, sir. Just… Malia, my oldest, moved back in with her four, and the schools here have uniforms that are different from their old, so it was a bit tight. You know how it is. Five new mouths and all. But it’s great. I get to see them every day. How many Papas can say that?”

  I almost didn’t catch the beginning of his rambling, my brain stuck in a rabbit hole. When he dropped me home, I’d run up and grab him some more cash. He would use it wisely, and if I did that instead of virtual tip via a card, it could be tax free and help him even more.

  “Not many. My grandparents were twice a year grandparents. Both sets lived across the country. Yours are lucky to have you.” Not that mine couldn’t have taken a more active role in our lives. They each had a private jet, for goodness sakes, but family was something for showing off, in their eyes, not something to actually care about. Unfortunately, my parents were of a similar mind.

  “We’re here, sir. I will wait here unless I’m told to move along, and then I will circle the block.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate you more than you know.” I took out my key ring with an insanely phallic flashlight attached, regretting my choice for the first time. It was funny, and got people chatting, but a penis with feet just didn’t feel right in this setting. Sadly, I needed the light, for the place was closed. Fence climbing it would be.

  “If I might be so bold, who is it you are visiting?” the driver asked as I realized my hand had frozen on the door handle. How long had I been like that? It was always difficult coming here, but today it was more so, the events of earlier, seeing Parker after all those years, making the feels so much more intense.

  “My godmothers.” The women who treated me like more of a son than my own parents. The women who loved me for me, and not my test results. The women who believed I could be exactly who I was and I was worth being loved. The women who left me one night never to return, all because of a patch of black ice and a tree.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, sir.”

  “It was a long time ago.” Which was technically true, though my heart felt as broken as if it were yesterday.

  I climbed out and was lucky to catch the eye of the caretaker who was working overtime, probably preparing for a funeral in the morning. He’d been there since the first time I came, years ago, and he always showed me compassion. I didn’t even need to ask him to let me in, he simply opened the gate with a nod and handed me a larger flashlight, one not shaped like a penis dancing, before heading back to his work.

  I found the spot I was looking for with ease, even in the dark, and sat in front of the gravestone of the only people who had ever stayed by my side and loved me through the mess that was my life.

  Here lies Martha and Emelia Fredericks. Loving spouses and mothers.

  My eyes teared up before I even got to their dates of life.

  They’d had their entire funeral and burial prearranged, as if they knew they were going to be with us less time than expected. Every time I came here, they reminded me with their words that I was their son, even if not by birth, for they had no children of their own. That was the kind of love I had to give a family. I wasn’t going to be my parents, nor my brother. I was Marcus Frederick now, and I was going to honor them by living the life they told me I could always have. That I always deserved.

  “Hey, moms. Sorry I haven’t been here in a couple of weeks. I was trying to finish up a new book for a deadline I should never have agreed to. But I’m here now, and I have so much to tell you. You’ll never guess who came into Café Om today…”

  11

  Killian

  Would you be up for an early dinner today? the text from my mama said.

  Hmm... Will it be worth my while? I teased her. My mama was an excellent cook, unlike me. Anything she made was fantastic. Except that one time she was on a super veggie kick, trying to sneak spinach in everything, mostly because Cooper had decided he didn't like veggies anymore. I'd been in high school and had been caught in the crossfire of the war of wills between them. It wasn't easy living in a house of all alphas.

  Killian Everest Daye you will present your face on my front porch at four pm or else.

  I couldn't help but laugh. Yes, ma'am.

  Family day was Sunday—the one day a week that was sacrosanct. No other plans could be made, barring life threatening emergencies. But we tried to get together once or twice a week outside of that. Coop was finishing in his junior year at the community college, which was more than I had done. Could I have qualified for scholarships? Probably. But I'd been working two jobs all through high school already, and even with my meager contributions to rent, utilities and groceries, I could tell Mama still always felt like she was scrambling. So I went straight to work. My first job was great—delivering packages. I wasn't old enough to drive the trucks, but I was great as a runner between the truck and the delivery. I got decent hours, benefits and vacation, which was a concept that just blew my mind at the time. Mama didn't let me give her much money, but I was able to slip Coop money for a few extras, like the fees for football, his gear. I knew what it was like to be stuck with second hand everything all the time. There was nothing wrong with it, but kids could be assholes. If my brother didn't have to deal with that, why should he?

  This guy I dated once a few years ago asked me all the time if I felt jealous or resentful of how much easier my brother had gotten things, and he just couldn't understand that I couldn't have been farther from resentful. I made my choices. And it was my duty to take care of my mama and brother. Why would I resent that? I ended up dumping his ass when it turned out he was embarrassed about dating a guy without a college degree. It wasn't what people had that made them worth anything, it was what they did.

  I stuck close to home the rest of the day, running through all my dirty laundry and cleaning out my fridge. Which was pretty sad. When your fridge is full of take-out boxes and condiments, something might be missing in your life...

  This time, I brought my work clothes with me. I felt like such a putz for running out on Marcus like that last night, and an even bigger putz for not asking for his number. I had his address, but not his number. And there was no way I was going to be the creeper who just showed up at his house unannounced. At least I knew where he worked, and it wasn't like it was a big corporate office where it would be weird if I showed up. So it wasn't like I'd lost my chance with him.

  And I hoped I had a chance with him. That last moment before the damned timer went off, he'd been so off guard, so open, so Marcus, and I'd frozen, though it would have been so natural to just lean forward and kiss him. But I hadn't wanted to break that moment where all of his guards were down while he was... content.

  I had to get him out of my mind as best I could for the evening, though. My mom had a sixth sense when it came to her kids and relationships.

  Both her car and Coop’s were in the driveway when I arrived. I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride every time I saw Coop's ugly as hell, beat up little junker. He hadn't told Mom and I what he was doing, but he'd saved up for years, and then went out and bought it himself, signed up and paid for the insurance himself, and learned enough automotive repair that he'd been able to keep the little rust bucket running for two years. We Dayes were tenacious, if nothing else.

  I opened the door to a burst of aromas that said home. Bacon... cheese...

  "That wouldn't be bacon macaroni and cheese I smell cooking, would it?"

  "You might be smelling, but you won't be eating if you don't get in here and give your mama a hug!"

  My mother was only a few inches shorter than I, but in my beefy arms, she seemed tiny. Though nothing about my mama was frail. I may have gotten my breadth of shoulders from my dad, who'd peaced out of our lives shortly after Coop was gone, but I got my tendency toward bulk from both of them. Mama was squishy in just the right way to comfort a kid with a skinned knee, or a teenage boy dealing with his first heart break. And p
erfect for me, feeling like I was coming home.

  "You're lucky," Coop said, following Mama out of the kitchen. "I told Mama that if you were even a minute late, I was eating your share."

  I pulled him into a hug, knuckling his hair. "You could try." Coop was just as tall as me, and naturally broad, but he spent more of his time in the library than the gym, so he couldn't match me in bulk. Not that it deterred him from trying to squirm out of my hold. It was cute of him to try. Really.

  "Boys, if you break anything, you're answering to me."

  After a few more seconds of rough housing, we both answered, "Yes, ma'am."

  "Now make yourselves useful and get the table ready."

  As we passed the dishes around—because my mama would never make just one dish—Mama said, "Well, Coop? You going to tell Killian your good news?"

  I turned to Coop, who was uncharacteristically blushing and ducking his head. "You're getting married," I guessed.

  "What?" he sputtered. "Not me! It's your job to provide the grandkids, big brother. You better get on that before you're too old."

  I reached over to smack him playfully, but pulled back when Mama pinned us both with a look.

  "I accepted an internship with StarX this summer, and it’s a feeder program for their new hires. I'll be offered a job after I graduate, and they'll even fund my masters."

  The swell of pride came on me so quickly, I could barely swallow my mouthful of food. My mother and brother were staring at me, waiting for my response.

  "Well?" Mama said as I wiped my mouth with my napkin.

  I pushed away from the table and circled it to pull my brother up into a big bear hug. "I'm so proud of you," I whispered as tears pricked my eyes. I wasn't even ashamed.

  12

  Marcus

  I was sitting in a bar with my brother, my heart racing, my palms sweating and my anxiety in overdrive. Of all the places to go, he’d picked a seedy bar. Fine, it wasn’t seedy, but it also wasn’t a place our parents would’ve approved of, which was equally shocking. Parker Spears, the golden child, going against parental expectations.

  The waiter had already brought us our drinks, mine my typical soda water and lime. There was no way I wanted to have any of my senses impaired for this conversation. When I had agreed to meet him, it was mostly to get him to leave, but after spending an hour baring my soul to my godmothers I felt at peace with the decision. Not that it made the follow through any easier.

  “I don’t know how to start.” Parker looked every bit as nervous as I did. I wished I could figure out his end game. I’d spent a lot of time building my life here and it could all crumble before me with a simple, well placed media slip up, something my mother was good at.

  “What is it you want, Parker? I’m never going back. I don’t even know why you want to talk to me so badly now.” I hated my lack of composure, my raw nerves showing. I had to force myself to stop tapping the table and gave up telling my knee not to bounce.

  “What? Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you? You’re my brother. I mean, I was hurt when you disappeared, when you cut me out, but I love you. I’ve been wrestling with myself for a long time. Too hurt to look for you. And then when I did start looking, not sure exactly why. But a couple weeks ago, I realized no matter how much I was hurt, it didn’t matter. You are my brother, my twin, and nothing changes that.”

  So much for controlling my tapping fingers. As his words barreled at me, I wanted to scream. He was hurt. He? That was rich given the way he, my twin and an alpha, allowed my parents to treat me like chattel.

  “You think being brothers covers everything up? You’re so fucking self-centered, Parker. I abandoned you? What about my pain? Why didn’t you come when I needed your backup when Mom and Dad tried to force me to marry that asshole?”

  Heads turned in my direction as I lost it on him. I couldn’t give two fucks.

  “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  My rage fell away as his soft quaking words hit my ears. What the fuck? He hadn’t known.

  “Do you really not know?” I needed to be sure. If that huge of a misunderstanding was between us, I needed it to be gone. I hadn’t realized until this moment how much I missed having my brother in my life. Not the man I thought he had become when I’d fled the family, but the man he’d been before we’d split for college.

  “I’ve never heard anything about any kind of marriage.”

  “I thought… I…” I swallowed, trying to regain the tiniest bit of composure. “Mom and Dad had been pushing me for months to meet with this alpha or that, and I kept putting them off.”

  “I remember you telling me about that.”

  “Occasionally, they’d ‘forget’ to tell me about a guest they had invited to dinner, and I thought that would be the worst of it. I was so wrong…”

  The waiter came back with a second round of drinks and we stopped for a moment. Neither of us had even finished our first. I stared at the bubbles for a few seconds before going back to tell Parker what had happened, crossing my fingers he didn’t give any indication of recognition as I did. I wanted so desperately to believe he truly didn’t know what had happened, but the texts…

  “There was this one guy, Vincent Lowell—Mom and Dad just wouldn’t give up on pushing me at him. I—”

  Parker’s hand reached across the table, taking mine, and I allowed it. I’d missed him so. Even in my anger, he was still part of me. Shit, we shared a womb for goodness sakes.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

  “No… I want to tell you. Maybe not all the details but…” There was no way I was ready to open up about the attempted rape, the one my parents had not only condoned, but apparently suggested as a way to get me to agree to become that bastard’s omega.

  They were freaking trapped in the Dark Ages where an omega was useless once “soiled,” and thought I would accept him simply because I was useless for all others. You know, because omegas don’t freaking have sex all the time before they mate—I mean, not me, but most. But that was another secret I kept locked up. Thankfully, I had been trained in self defense by our security detail and was able to get away. My parents were probably still kicking themselves for allowing those lessons.

  “Anyway, something bad happened.” I skipped over all of the evil bits. “They tried to force me to marry Vincent.” I forced the tears in my eyes to stay put. “I texted you. Because you’re my brother. My twin.”

  That was the part that hurt the worst in all of this. More than my parents being assholes, because that was just who they were. More than the bastard thinking he could make me his, because evil is evil. I was livid at him, but not disappointed. I’d never expected anything positive from him. No, it was the radio silence from my twin that had, and still did, crushed me the most. “We’ve always been there for each other. But this time, you told me that I needed to submit to Mom and Dad. That they knew best.”

  “Fuck… Marcus, you’ve got to believe me, I didn’t send those messages.” He was shaking with anger, and it only took me a moment to figure out what had happened, even before he opened his mouth with the details. “The week you left, I was… messed up. I basically didn’t leave my room all that week. Mom came down for a few days, I told her it was the flu, but it was really me. I just couldn’t deal. I didn’t even look at my phone for a week after she left, and when I did, I couldn’t find it. I bought a new one, and that’s when I found out about the fight with Mom and Dad. They said you disowned them. And that you disowned me.”

  The bitch had taken his phone. “I didn’t—I never. What the fuck did that bitch say?”

  “Can we start from the beginning?” He wasn’t deflecting. He was hurting, and while I wasn’t ready to agree to anything yet, all the new information achieving nothing more than a brain fuck, I didn’t want to make it worse by pushing.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to start there. I’m not really ready to relive it quite yet. But can we start
from here? What are you doing? How are you doing?” I gave his hand a squeeze. The past was too hard, but the present, the present I could handle. I hoped.

  “We can absolutely start from here, Marcus.” He smiled and we spent the next half hour chatting about dumbass things that meant nothing; his new place, my job at Om, and his trip to Japan. When we parted ways, we hugged for the first time in years. It felt good to be back with him. I wasn’t ready for it to be more than it was, but it was a start. Maybe this city would become less lonely now that he was here.

  On my way home, I made an impromptu stop at my favorite salon. I felt like fully embracing my new nickname, Blondie. I justified that it would avoid confusion or weird looks next time Parker and I were in the same place, but it wasn’t that alone. I liked my nickname.

  It was late when I made my way into my building. I stopped at the mailboxes, pulling out the junk mail that seemed to congregate there. To my surprise there was also a small package labeled: Blubby c/o Marcus. The return address: Sally.

  I ran up the stairs, needing to open the package now. It turned out to be a small dogfish statue for Blubby’s tank. Killian had sent me a gift. A thoughtful, adorably executed gift. He was still thinking of me. By some miracle, I hadn’t ruined all things. I sat watching Blubby float around his new decoration, seemingly unimpressed, but what did he know? That little statue was priceless.

  13

  Killian

  I toyed with the second little statue I'd bought for Blubby while watching television. I'd sent the first one to Marcus a few days ago, but I hadn't seen him since then. Every time I'd made plans to stop by Café Om, something came up. First it was my water tank leaking, and that was a days long ordeal. I had the damaged wall and floor boarded and drywalled up after cutting out the bad crap, and didn't know when I'd have time to actually work on it. It was in my spare room, so it wasn't a huge imposition, but I hated leaving things undone. The smart thing to do would be to call a contractor, but it was really hard for me to fork over hard earned cash for something I could do just as well on my own.