Chapter 2

Lester's POV

If I thought Bobby looked like he'd seen a ghost earlier in the stairwell, looking at that profile picture, it was nothing compared to how he looked now as the door to the small meeting room off the foyer swung closed behind Denise and he let his true feelings show. He'd remained calm throughout the meeting as she dropped her bombshell on us, asking all the necessary question to get a clear picture of the situation and understand why we were being brought into the fold now. He'd always been the level-headed one, the patient one, the one able to take in the information, calmly process it, and sort out the best move forward, but looking at the glazed stare of his eyes and the unnaturally ashen hue to his skin, I wasn't so sure he was managing it in the current situation.

And unfortunately, I didn't think I was that much better off. I certainly didn't have a handle on the information as it spun through my head like a merry go round in a tornado, all flashing lights and distorted sound, and chaos. Just so much chaos. I couldn't believe what was happening. What I wouldn't give to go back in time just one hour, to before everything I now knew so I could continue to live in blissful ignorance.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, letting out a breath that had been trapped in my chest so long it had started to hurt. Unable to watch my rock visibly freaking out for a moment longer I collapsed back in my chair, dragging my hands down my face forcefully, like I could scrub Denise's words out of my head that way. "What are we supposed to do with this information?" It wasn't a question posed with the intention of getting answers from the only other occupant of the room, it was just words that needed to find a place in the world that was not sprinting through my brain at a million miles an hour.

Apparently, they landed in just the right place to jolt Bobby out of his stupor, though, because I sensed his jerky movements as he reefed his phone off his belt and started tapping at the screen. "I'm contacting Fredericks," he informed me, and I knew from his tone that he'd managed to snatch back his level head. No doubt he was shoving a lot of his feelings into that dark pit in the depths of his soul, to be forgotten about until they could no longer be ignored, but we could deal with that later. "He'll know what steps we need to take."

"Steps we need to take for what?" Probably, I was at my all-time densest right at that moment, but I needed to know where Bobby was at, so I could try to process myself. If I knew Bobby was getting a handle on things, had a plan up his sleeve, then I knew we'd be okay and I could let some of the terrifying thoughts in my mind-tornado drift off into the ether.

With my scrubbing not helping, I had let my hands lock together behind my neck, hanging heavily in my still collapsed position, so I had an unobscured view of the vague gesture the love of my life made to the seat Denise had recently vacated and the papers she had left behind.

"Yeah," I murmured, nodding slowly. "Yeah, okay. Good plan." Slowly, I levered myself into an upright position once more, staring down at the photo in the middle of the table. "Do you really think- ?"

Bobby sucked in one of his legendary calming breaths that always served to take my own anxiety up a notch. If Bobby needed belly breaths, there was something very wrong with the world. "I think we need to find out for certain before we go too much further," he said, eyes glued to that same spot on the table, caught on the rosy cheeked child grinning at the camera. "We'll have to organise DNA testing, talk to the lawyer, and -ah shit."

"What?" I didn't like the sound of that. Bobby didn't throw around curse words willy-nilly. That was my job in our partnership.

"We're gonna have to clue Ranger and Tank in at the very least," he said, swivelling on his chair to face me, the devastated expression returning to suck the light out of his eyes. "As the other half of the Core Team, they need to know what we're dealing with so they can pull cover if necessary, without asking probing questions."

"Fuuuuuuck," I groaned again, letting my head slump forward this time to thump repeatedly against the table until Bobby's hand reached out to press gently on the back of my head, halting the movement. "Ric's gonna tell the family."

A light chuckle escaped Bobby, so out of place in the current chaos. "No he's not," he assured me. "Because he's not you. He'll have our backs while we figure this mess out the same way we had his while he was mending bridges with Steph."

A sigh heavier than Thor's hammer forced its way out of my lungs, and I rolled my head to the side, careful not to dislodge Bobby's hand in the process, allowing it to rest against the side of my face. There were worry lines around his eyes, and I'm pretty sure his other hand was clenched in a fist under the table if the visible tension in his forearm was anything to go by, but I was relieved to see that my rock was settling back into the saddle, preparing to steer this out-of-control horse towards a resolution. I couldn't fathom getting through this ordeal without him. Twisting a little more, I pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, and surged from my seat, unable to sit still a moment longer.

"You're right," I agreed, pacing back and forth behind him. "What do we need to do first?"

"I've sent Fredericks an email," he said gesturing to where his phone sat face down on the table. "So, he'll get back to us soon, but for right now, I think we need to go upstairs and find Tank and Ranger."

"And Steph," I added automatically, stopping behind him to run a hand through my hair, rumpling my spikes. I hated that I was so worked up that my hair had to suffer, anyone who knew me even the tiniest bit would know that I was stressed with nothing more than a quick glance, but I was already in the action before I realised what I was doing, so I may as well go all out.

"And Steph," he agreed with a decisive nod. "Good plan."

*o*

As it turned out, between scheduled client meetings, a conference call that went half an hour over time and an emergency call out, we couldn't get all five of us together at the same time for another three hours, and since neither of us wanted to submit to explaining the whole situation more than once, Bobby and I decided to wait it out.

We were in my office, Bobby seated behind the desk using my computer to finish up some work while I paced the width of the room, tossing my ball of rubber band back and forth between my hands when Steph entered, hands above her head as she wound her curls into a loose messy bun on top of her head. A yawn escaped her as she plonked down in one of the visitor's chairs, her whole posture deflating now that she was out of view of the rest of the world.

"Listening to Mr. Balson drone on about his very specific security needs is exhausting," she complained, as I passed in front of her, her gaze following my movements. "He's determined that he needs a custom designed plan despite the fact that the needs he outlined match our Standard Plus package exactly. Every time I tried to point it out, he'd just reiterate all the things he'd already said, like I wasn't listening and clearly misunderstood what he was telling me."

"Isn't he already on the Standard Plus package?" Ranger announced his presence by asking as he crossed the threshold.

"Yes!" Steph exclaimed, grabbing Ranger's hand as soon as he was within reach and using it to pull herself to her feet, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder. Ranger automatically hugged her tighter against his chest, pressing a kiss to her temple as she continued to complain. "And I offered to give him a discount on a call out add on upgrade, but he refused. He heard we do bespoke security packages now, and he's adamant he needs one."

"Where did you leave off at the end of the meeting?" Ranger enquired, taking up residence in the seat his wife had just vacated and pulling her down in his lap.

"I said I'd consult with the team and see what I could do for him," she sighed, settling into the contours of Ranger's body like they were made for her, which given how well suited to each other they were in every other way, I wouldn't be surprised if they were. The sight of them together like that always made me long for Bobby's body against my own, like we were a puzzle, and he was my missing piece. I didn't feel whole without him.

I altered my path so that I was pacing by the end of the desk instead of in the space between the desk and the chairs, letting the rubber band ball cease it's hand-to-hand flight in the process, squeezing it firmly in my left hand instead, as some of the attention that had been focused on the thoughts that were still circling my head, shift to Steph's plight.

"Give him a bespoke package," I said simply.

"But it-"

I didn't let her finish her protest. "If he's that certain that the Standard Plus package isn't good enough, give him a bespoke package. It doesn't have to be anything revolutionary, just have Hank draw it up to include all the same benefits of the Standard Plus but on the custom plan. He gets what he needs and what he wants, and we get the extra revenue that comes with him being on that plan with no real effort at all."

I'd stopped pacing by the time I'd finished explaining my suggestion, standing by Bobby's left side while they all stared at me, including Tank who had just entered.

"It's not a bad plan," Tank rumbled, lowering himself into the second guest chair and extending his right leg in front of him. "And if he complains about the price, you can just offer to do him a favour by putting him back on the Standard Plus plan with all the same benefits he would have been getting on the custom."

Ranger and I both nodded our agreement, and Steph shook her head in disbelief, smiling ruefully while she pulled her phone out. "Alright, I'll tell him we can do the custom plan in my follow up email tomorrow, just let me make a note to talk to Hank, then we can get on with whatever it is you called us in for."

Suddenly reminded of the reason for our gathering, every muscle in my body tensed against my will. The rubber band ball ejected itself from my hand, bouncing off the computer keyboard and dropping to the floor to roll toward the door. If Steph's word hadn't already turned all attention back to Bobby and me, the clatter I caused certainly did the trick. To keep from blurting everything out in one jumbled rush of unordered words, I gripped the back of Bobby's chair, biting my tongue at the same time.

Bobby's hand rose to cover mine in tandem with Ranger's left eyebrow inching up his forehead as he silently questioned my reaction, prompting me to take a slow breath and get my body back under control before it betrayed me anymore.

"What did you do?" Tank asked, an accusatory note to his tone that wasn't helping my bid to remain cool, calm, and collected.

The pressure of Bobby's hand increased briefly, a warning not to snap at our friend, and before I could even contemplate my other options, Bobby was speaking for the first time in an hour. His smooth baritone voice was a balm on my soul, and I could almost believe it would all be all right just based purely on the effect it had on my raw nerves.

"Earlier today Lester and I were both called to the foyer to meet with a woman who had requested us by name," he explained evenly, looking from Tank's now dubious expression to the blank mask that had slammed down on Ranger's face, and finally to Steph's quietly curious look. "Her name was Denise Ottervich, and neither one of us recognised either the name or the woman when we saw her. As it turns out, we had never met her before. She was the friend of a woman we had a weekend tryst with several years ago."

I noted rather detachedly the way Steph's eyebrows shot up at that moment, her mouth popping open like she had questions lining up on her tongue ready to jump out. But Bobby didn't give them the chance, ploughing on to get all the information out in the open before they could cast their judgements. If they were going to form opinions of our past decisions based on the current situation, they at least needed the full picture.

"Winifred Taylor passed away due to complications from injuries sustained during an attack on the club she worked at three weeks ago," he said. "It was very sudden. Unexpected. But thankfully Winnie had made a point of keeping her will up to date. At the reading of said will three days ago, Denise was provided with instructions that in the event of Winnie's death, she was to seek out 'Lester and Bobby from Rangeman'."

"Why?" Steph blurted in the barely-there pause as Bobby took a breath to continue.

I couldn't hold myself still a moment longer. The strain was killing me. "Because she apparently got pregnant from that weekend, had a baby and didn't bother to tell us about it until after she died!" I said, wrenching my hand away from the office chair I'd been clutching so hard that I was dangerously close to taking a chunk of the chair with me as I abruptly resumed pacing behind Bobby. "Apparently Bobby and I have a kid out there and we had no idea. And we probably still wouldn't have a clue if she hadn't died!"

A silence thicker than Steph's preferred cake slice size stretched through the room, weaving in and out of the stunned expressions to settle in a heavy blanket on my shoulders. It made my skin crawl, my muscles ache, and my mind kicked into overdrive. I hated silence. Had never been fond of it growing up, but certain events in my military career had ratcheted that up several thousand times so that silences like this, in a room full of people, were interminable. There was a reason I always had something to fidget with nearby, because if I didn't I might go insane when the quiet pressed in. If the silence had to exist, as I knew it did from time to time, then I at least needed some way to let the tension it caused out of my body.

My phone chirped, shattering the moment but remaining out of sight in my pocket as my cousin seemingly took the noise as his indication that he should talk.

"How do you know the child is yours?" Ranger finally asked, his expression as unchanged as his tone. God forbid he let anyone see what he was thinking from time to time.

Bobby snagged my arm as I crossed behind him once more, tugging me forcefully until my thigh was pressed against the armrest of the chair. "We don't," he said flatly. "But we need to take the necessary steps to find out."

"And if it is?"

"She," I corrected automatically, thinking of the gorgeous little girl in the photo Denise had given us that was now hidden under a spread of other papers Bobby had been perusing before the others arrived. Her big, hazel-green eyes sparkled with mischief, supported by a row of tiny teeth, grinning at the camera. Her skin was naturally tan, appearing a similar shade to my own, several shades lighter than Bobby's. Her hair put Steph's to shame with the riot of dark brown curls spinning out in all directions. None of the features I'd isolated in the little girl gave me a clue as to whether we could have fathered her, though, because while she exhibited features that lent themselves toward both a Latin and Africa-American heritage, it essentially meant nothing, since Winnie herself had been mixed-race.

"Her name is Larissa Aubrie Taylor," I added. "And she's four years old."

"So, what happens if it turns out that Larissa is yours?" Steph rephrased her question, looking from me to Bobby.

"One of yours," Tank interjected. "Biologically the kid can only be related to one of you, right?"

Bobby nodded, never letting go of the light grip he had on my forearm, tapping his finger tips in a barely-there sensation. "Winnie's death, and her lack of family has left the child with no legal guardian," he said. "Denise is looking after her temporarily, but in the event that either Lester or I prove to be a positive DNA match for the child, we would obviously welcome her into our family."

My head snapped around to stare at my partner in shock. We hadn't had a chance in the three hours since receiving the news to discuss what we would do if the child was indeed ours, and for some reason the fact that he sounded so certain that this was the solution caught me off guard. "We would?"

The expression that came my way was a peculiar mixture of surprise and uncertainty that I wasn't used to seeing on Bobby's face. "Wouldn't we?"

As though he sensed the debate building on the tips of our tongues as Bobby and I continued to stare at each other, Ranger brought the meeting full circle by asking one simple question: "What do you need from us?"

I sagged, perching my ass on the arm of Bobby's chair as the air whooshed out of my lungs. "We just needed you guys to be aware of it," I sighed.

Bobby rested his hand on my thigh, nodding agreement with my statement. "In case things come up that we need to attend to," he added. "We've already contacted Fredericks for legal advice. We'll go from there."