Page 111 of Talk About… Dramay

“So, Lane, are you going to tell me about yourself?” Cameron asked as the song ended. He turned the radio down. “Other than the fact that, apparently, you can sing?”

The vague answer was on the tip of my tongue—the one that I gave anyone who asked so I didn’t have to really dive into the truth. But when I glanced at Cameron, I realized I didn’t want to hold back.

We knew about all of his skeletons at this point—the worst moments of his life and what he’d done to Oriana, and how he’d made up for it.

Maybe that was my motivation, or maybe I just truly trusted Cameron at this point.

The familiar grief rose to the surface, that old wound opening up as if it was fresh all over again. I shuddered against it but managed to keep my voice mostly steady.

“When I was just entering high school, I snuck out one night just to meet with some friends. It was a stupid party. When I came home, the sirens were everywhere, and smoke filled the air. I’ll let you fill in the blanks without going into detail about how I lost my whole family that night,” I said, looking out at the landscape as it passed by. Bile was rising in my throat as I sucked in lungfuls of air to calm myself.

Oddly, his scent, strong, steady, sweet and woodsy, helped the pain settle back in its usual place.

Cameron didn’t talk, but his hand landed on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of silent support. I leaned into it, soaking in the comfort and not overthinking it.

We were family now and that would take some getting used to.

After a few minutes, I continued my story. None of it was pretty but it made me the man I was today.

A lot of trauma, too many tattoos, and dark humor for days.

“After that, I wound up in foster care. I didn’t have any family, or at least none that would step up. Those were some of the worst years of my life, and that’s saying something after losing my entire family, right?”

My laugh was hollow and full of pain. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say it was bad. I’d had to fight to keep my dignity in some of those houses. I starved more nights than I was fed, and I dealt with some of the worst of alpha-kind.

Somehow, that didn’t ruin alphas for me as a whole. Mainly because I was raised by some of the best. They would have been horrified to know the conditions I’d had to endure when they were gone.

“When I met Hudson and Tate, I was a mess. For some reason, we just clicked. Tate had been pretty jaded and had warded off all omegas. Hudson had lost his only family and was kind of a mess. Thankfully, he didn’t have to face the same horrors of foster care that I went through. Not to say they’re all bad. I met some people who adored the homes they ended up in. Unfortunately for me, I just didn’t end up in one of those.”

“Fuck those people. You never deserved that. No kids do.”

“I made sure they paid for it before I ran away. I’d been smart enough to gather evidence against them. It was detailed: photos, descriptions, dates, times, the works. I turned it into my caseworker on my way to school one day, and then I left town. I refuse to ever go back again, but I did check in a few years later after I was a legal adult, and heard that they went to jail. It seemed I wasn’t the only one they’d abused.”

“Damn, I’m proud of you for turning them in. That took some guts,” Cameron said.

I didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need me to. I let his words sink in. Usually, I was met with pity. But Cameron just met me with pride, making me feel like I really was strong.

Sometimes old insecurities were hard to shake. Lately, it was a whole lot easier.

It took a lot to move past everything, but I felt like I’d finally left my past behind. Now that I found Oriana and Rockwood Valley in general, I knew the only way from here was up.

In fact, it was a lot easier to agree to a pack and the idea of a family one day, knowing that our kids, no matter what happened to us, would be fine. Not only did Cameron have siblings and a mother that was attentive, but Roman had a family. They had their own downfalls, but they were family through and through.

“Okay, that’s enough heavy conversation,” I said as I rolled my shoulders, giving him a half smile.

“Yeah, you already know my bullshit. Fucked up, drank a lot, tried to fix it. Here we are,” Cameron said. It was a small summary for a wealth of emotions and issues, but I appreciated the humor he was bringing into it.

Sometimes, dark humor was the only way to get through. I knew that better than most.

“Thanks, Cameron,” I said before turning up the next song.

Thankfully, the rest of the drive was a lot lighter, with us just singing along and enjoying the drive. Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to a big-box nesting store.

We started to climb out until my attention caught on a small, colorful building across the street and a complex.

“Wait, do you see that?”

Cameron followed where I was pointing and immediately buckled back up and pulled out of the parking spot, driving across the street to the strip of small businesses.