Filthy Rich Santas

43. Lana

43

LANA

I gasp, pressing my hand to my mouth as Beckett’s punch sends Wade reeling sideways. The room erupts into chaos—a blur of motion and screaming as my parents’ guests scramble backward, clearing the space around us.

I can hear my mother shouting something at me, but it doesn’t even register over the sound of my pounding heart.

Tristan and Ryder rush forward, grabbing Beckett and holding him back before he can go after Wade again. The expression on their faces make it crystal clear they’re only doing it to protect him from doing something that could land him in jail.

“Are you planning on being smart or are you planning on being hurt,” Ryder snaps at Wade when he finally finds his feet and turns back toward Beckett instead of toward the door.

Wade answers with an inarticulate sound of rage and lunges at Beckett, fists flying.

Beckett breaks free from his friends’ hold just long enough to land another punch that sends blood spraying from Wade’s nose. When Wade tries to retaliate, Ryder intercepts him, catching Wade’s flailing arm and twisting until Wade yelps and goes down on one knee.

“Get out,” he snaps.

But Wade doesn’t listen. He fights his way back up to his feet, and Beckett lunges at him again, turning it into an all-out brawl.

“Oh my god,” I gasp

I rush forward as the fight careens toward the entrance hall. I can tell Tristan and Ryder are doing their best to push Wade toward the door while simultaneously keeping Beckett from murdering him, but the white-hot rage on Beckett’s face makes me doubt they’ll be able to manage that.

Glass shatters—a stray elbow taking out a side table—as Beckett struggles against Tristan and Ryder, his eyes fixed on Wade with laser-like intensity.

“Be smart,” I hear Tristan mutter as he hauls him back, but then Wade surges forward, his face twisted with fury, and Beckett breaks loose again.

My stomach drops as Wade lets loose a vicious right hook aimed at Beckett’s jaw, but Tristan and Ryder drag Beckett out of range before it connects.

Wade loses his balance, careening into the front door. For a moment, he just stands there, breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Then he lurches forward with a snarl, like he just doesn’t know when to quit, and the three men move in perfect sync, picking him up and literally throwing him out of the house.

I race for the door as they follow Wade out, watching as they physically drag him down my parents’ driveway. I’m vaguely aware that I’m not the only one crowding into the doorway watching, but I don’t care. My heart is hammering in my chest, every ounce of my attention focused on Tristan, Ryder, and Beckett.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Beckett snarls once they finally release Wade at the end of the driveway, giving him a shove that sends him stumbling.

Wade staggers, and for a moment, I think he might be dumb enough to actually keep fighting.

He eyes Tristan and Ryder, sizing them up as they eye him back, never taking their focus off him. It almost looks like he’s thinking of taking them on too, but then his eyes flick toward Beckett and he pales.

I bite my lip, my heart in my throat. But luckily the reality of the situation seems to hit Wade all at once, and after muttering what sounds like a few choice curse words, he goes from a raging bull to a sniveling weasel, turning and limping off down the street.

The men watch until he finally reaches a corner and disappears from sight, then they turn back to me.

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, realizing in a rush how quiet it’s gotten behind me. The festive atmosphere has evaporated, replaced by a thick, uncomfortable tension.

I’m guessing we’ve officially ruined my parents’ party, but I can’t think about that yet. Not until I make sure my men are okay.

Ryder smirks as they head back toward me as if he can read my mind, and the intense way all three of them watch me as they approach has my pulse starting to race for a different reason.

“Excuse me,” someone says, dragging my attention away from them for a moment.

An older couple I vaguely recognize needs me to step to the side since I’m blocking the doorway. As soon as I do, they scurry past me, and I can hear the rustle of coats and the murmur of hastily made excuses from behind me as the other party guests scramble to leave too.

My stomach twists as the reality of what just happened crashes over me. It all unfolded so quickly that I haven’t really had a chance for everything to sink in.

I’m still reeling, both from Wade’s arrogant audacity in showing up here the way he did, and from the way the guys jumped to my defense. But the one inescapable fact that starts to crowd out all the rest is that the truth about our relationship—the one we’ve only just officially started and which I know my parents will never approve of—has now been laid bare for everyone to see.

I know I want to be with Tristan, Ryder, and Beckett, but since I never thought it was possible, I also never thought through how I’d present such a thing to my family. Now I have no choice, and I have no idea what’s going to happen once my parents’ house clears out and it’s time to face the music.

When the men finally reach me, they each take a moment to touch me. Beckett gives the back of my neck a reassuring squeeze, Tristan strokes my hair, and Ryder pulls me close and kisses my temple.

Then, like a living shield, they move with me inside the house, their presence both comforting and anxiety-inducing as the last of the party guests leave.

My family has gathered in the foyer shoulder to shoulder. I doubt they mean to block the entrance into the house, but it couldn’t be more obvious that they’re on one side of an invisible line, and the guys and I are on the other.

Vivian and Caleb both have shocked expressions on their faces, staring at me like they’ve never seen me before, but my parents are a different story. Unmistakable anger radiates off both of them, hitting me like a palpable wave.

I have no idea what to say. The silence stretches, taut and uncomfortable, between all of us.

“What the hell was that, Lana?” my father finally bursts out. “How could you humiliate us like this? Do you know how many important people just saw that vulgar display you just subjected us all to?”

I flinch at his tone, but before I can respond, he continues, his anger building with each word.

“Do you have any idea how much work your mother put into this party? The planning, the preparation—all ruined because you couldn’t keep your… your promiscuous indiscretions private?”

He’s practically spitting. I’ve never seen him so outraged.

I swallow hard. “Dad, I?—”

“No!” he cuts me off, his face flushed with anger. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. This behavior is completely unacceptable. You’ve embarrassed this entire family in front of all our friends and colleagues. And Wade! What the hell was all that? I don’t know what happened between you two, but he was clearly here to forgive you and make things right?—”

Something inside me snaps.

“Forgive me?” I shout, the volume of my voice powered by years of pent-up frustration over never being seen as anything but a disappointment, no matter how much I’ve tried.

My father gapes at me for a moment, and I take a deep breath, steadying myself, then go on.

“I have spent my entire life trying to make you happy.” I look between my mother and father. “Every decision, every choice I made, including dating Wade in the first place, was all about living up to your expectations. And you know what? It was never enough. Not for either of you.”

My mother scoffs, looking away, while color rises in my father’s cheeks as a muscle starts to tick in his jaw.

My voice breaks slightly, but I push on. “No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I’ve always fallen short of being who you want me to be. And all it did when I tried was keep me living a life that was suffocating me. It was fake. Wrong. At least, wrong for me .” I swallow. “I was living your version of my life, not my own.”

I don’t see any sign that I’m getting through to either one of them, both of their faces stuck in all too familiar matching expressions of disapproval. But then I feel Tristan’s hand slip into mine, giving me a reassuring squeeze, and the way all three of my men surround me gives me the strength to continue.

I straighten my spine and take a deep breath, centering myself as I look straight into my father’s eyes, then my mother’s.

“I’m done doing that. I’m done living by your standards. Done hiding who I really am. Done pretending and twisting myself into knots just to please you.”

“Lana.” My mother’s lips are pursed, her voice tight as her eyes flick to the men and then back to me. “If you were… compromised during the road trip?—”

“Oh my god,” I burst out. “Seriously, Mom? Did you even hear anything I just said?”

“What I heard, what all my guests heard, is you announcing your promiscuity to the man who gave you a three-carat engagement ring!”

Beckett growls as all three of them move closer, but I put a hand on his chest before he can jump to my defense again.

“Yes, I’ve slept with Tristan, Ryder, and Beckett,” I say, holding my mother’s gaze. “But it has nothing to do with Wade. I just want to be with them. All of them.”

My father sputters. “You can’t?—”

“I can,” I cut him off. “I am , and I’m done pretending otherwise. The four of us are in a relationship now, and I like who I am when I’m with them. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can truly be myself. Because you know what? They like who I am with them too. Not some idealized version of who I should be, but who I actually am.”

I can see the shock and disbelief on my parents’ faces, but for once, it doesn’t make me feel small. With Tristan, Ryder, and Beckett’s silent support radiating into me, my chest feels lighter than it’s ever been in this house.

For the first time in my life, I’ve spoken my truth without fear or hesitation, and riding the wave of my newfound courage, I take a deep breath and continue, “There’s something else you should know. I’ve been diagnosed with lupus recently.”

All four of my family members freeze for a moment, and then my father’s jaw tightens. “Is this something you caught from… them ?”

“Jesus, Dad,” Caleb whispers harshly. “That’s not what it is.”

I shake my head, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s not an STD. It’s a… a condition. It’s triggered by some combination of environmental and genetic factors, they think.”

“Genetic?” Mom shakes her head, looking stunned. “But we didn’t give it to you!”

“And that’s exactly why I tried to hide it from you,” I tell her tightly. “Because I knew you’d judge me for it. I felt guilty for an illness I have no control over, all because I’ve spent my whole life trying to meet your impossible standards. And I’m done feeling less than because of it.

“No, you know what? I’m more than done. I’m mad about it! I’m angry that you keep treating me this way, even now.”

My voice cracks, but I don’t let that stop me.

“Why isn’t your first question whether or not I’m okay? I just told you I’m sick, and Dad, you imply that it’s my own fault, and then you, Mom, sneer about how it’s… what, beneath a Reeves to be imperfect? Well guess what, I’m not perfect, but I’m happier being my real, imperfect self than I ever was trying to live up to who you wanted me to be.”

For once, neither one of my parents has a stinging retort. They both stand there looking stunned by my tirade, blinking in shock for a moment. But when my father opens his mouth to speak, I can tell by the expression on his face that nothing I said actually got through to him.

It almost makes me feel defeated, but then Tristan steps forward, his voice calm but hard.

“With all due respect, Mr. Reeves, I’d think carefully about whatever you’re about to say before you throw away something you can’t get back.”

“And what would that be?” my father says, his tone suspicious.

“Your daughter.”

My father blinks, and before he can say anything in response, Ryder jumps in.

“All these years, you had the chance to really know her, and you made her hide her light. You dismissed her talent, pushed her toward your own dreams instead of hers, and made her feel like your love was conditional. You’ve missed out on seeing how truly wonderful Lana is because you refused to fucking look .”

My mother’s mouth tightens at the profanity, but Ryder stares her down, standing like a solid oak tree behind me.

“Lupus is something your daughter is going to be living with now, so you might want to spend a little more time researching it if you actually give a shit about her well-being. But as a courtesy, I’ll clue you in.”

His unyielding tone has an edge I’ve never heard before, and it’s enough to shut my parents up as he goes on.

“Lana gets tired a little more easily now. She’s got to take care to manage her stress. To avoid triggering foods. Stay hydrated. Monitor her symptoms at all times and adjust her lifestyle accordingly. Despite that, she’s been pushing through this entire trip. A little too hard sometimes.”

His lips quirk up, and his eyes drop to me for a moment before he looks back at my parents.

“But never complaining, always letting her inner radiance light up the room even when the fatigue hits her. Putting others first—especially her family, despite the fact that I’ve yet to see any one of you do the same for her.”

Caleb flinches a little, but I stop watching my family as the men keep talking, my attention riveted to the three of them instead.

“She’s brilliant and creative,” Tristan says. “Have you even seen her artwork? It’s incredible.”

“What’s really fucking incredible is her laugh,” Ryder says, holding my gaze. “It’s like that one Christmas song, you know, with the tidings of joy and shit.”

“That’s not Christmas, that’s just Lana,” Beckett rumbles. “She brings a little magic to everything she touches.”

“Like roadside attractions.” Ryder smirks, but his eyes are soft as he looks at me. It’s almost as if they’re not telling my parents off anymore, they’re speaking directly to me. Publicly confessing feelings that make my heart race and my eyes sting with unshed tears.

“She’s adventurous.”

“Brave.”

“Full of determination and passion.”

“She’s beautiful,” Tristan adds quietly. “The fire in her eyes when she stands up for what she believes in, when she sees herself the way we do, is…”

“It’s everything,” Beckett finishes, his gaze finding mine and making the rest of the room fall away.

Then Caleb clears his throat, and I remember we’re not alone.

“Mom, Dad,” I start, a lump growing in my throat as they silently stare back at me.

The tension in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife, and I sigh, shaking my head.

I tried, and they either can’t hear me or don’t care. Anything more is going to have to come from them.

“Get your stuff,” Tristan says, resting his hand on my lower back. “We’ll go to Grandma Meg’s.”

“No, I’ll get it,” Beckett interjects, glancing at Tristan and Ryder. “Take Lana outside. I’ll meet you out there.”

He stalks past my parents, heading for the stairs, and Tristan and Ryder flank me, guiding me out of the house without any goodbyes.

A moment later, Beckett is back, my suitcase in hand, and we leave.