“Are you okay?” Knox asked Laikyn, his expression sobering. “I didn’t mean to spring that on you so quickly, but after meeting you … I simply didn’t want to go another minute without letting you know.”
Her lips pursed, and she nodded. I could tell she was putting up a wall to protect herself from whatever heartache she expected him to send her way. After all, for Laikyn, family wasn’t there to support her and lift her up.
“I was thinking perhaps we could all have dinner tonight,” Knox offered, glancing between me and Laikyn. “I’ll bring my wife and husband so you can meet them. Creed’s here, too, so I can invite him and the entourage.”
I hadn’t realized Creed was in Vegas until I found him and Rule talking near the elevators shortly after Rule had summoned me. According to Rule, he hadn’t expected Creed to come until later, but evidently, the guy wanted to prepare Knox for what was coming before he was blindsided. It made sense.
Realizing Laikyn was looking at me for an answer, I tilted my head to let her know it was entirely up to her. I would support her, no matter what she decided.
“Yes,” Laikyn finally said, her shoulders no longer hugging her ears. “Dinner would be nice.”
Knox looked at his watch. “Can you give me a few hours? Let’s say seven-thirty?”
“Perfect.”
I watched as Knox’s gaze lingered on Laikyn’s face for a few more seconds. I couldn’t help but think he was truly happy to meet her. I honestly hoped that was the case. Otherwise, this was going to end very, very badly.
When Knox walked away, I cupped Laikyn’s face and forced her to meet my gaze.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “At least, I think I am.”
I leaned in to kiss her, and she pressed her lips to mine, her hand tightening on my arm.
“I’d like to go to the room for a bit.”
Taking her hand, I turned to lead the way. Rule stood several feet away, his expression rife with torment and pain. And guilt. Definitely guilt.
I squeezed Laikyn’s hand. Her gaze shifted to Rule at the same time she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She stopped when she was directly in front of him, dropping my hand as she faced off with him.
“I’m not sure whether I should be mad at you or grateful. At the moment, I’m too drunk to really care. But I’m warning you, that might change in a little while.”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Can we please just go to the room?” She took a step toward the elevator. “Before I do something stupid like break down and cry right here.”
If she cried, there was a damn good chance I would, and we couldn’t have that, so I urged her toward the elevators. Rule was right behind us, escorting us the entire way. I left it to him to get us there, and I kept my fingers linked with Laikyn’s, wondering what was going through that pretty head of hers.
I found out about the time the elevator opened on our floor.
“Who’s my father?” She asked Rule. “I mean, what’s his name?”
He answered without an ounce of inflection in his tone. “Jeremiah Montgomery.”
“Is he someone famous?”
“He created Montage Markets.”
Laikyn abruptly stopped in the middle of the hall, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
I wanted to slap him upside the head because he answered as though this was some sort of test, not as though she was inquiring about her paternity when she’d spent the first twenty-two years of her life not knowing who the guy was.
At least he waited until we were inside the room before he dropped the next bomb on her.
The moment he did, I realized just how fucked up our entire situation really was.
31
