"Can't I join you? Whatever you are discussing, these matters affect me too." Laurent stepped forward, intending to pass Beast and enter, but his husband's strong arm blocked his way.
"No."
"Why not?"
Beast pushed forward, forcing Laurent away from the door. There was no violence in his movements, but his body language still told Laurent that he had no means to force his way through. Dumbfounded, he took a step back.
"Because I say so. Go and wait in the common room. I've got a lot of shit on my plate, and I can't deal with you on top of it."
Laurent wanted to yell at him, tell Beast what he thought about such manners, such indignity thrust upon a husband, but he'd only embarrass himself further by doing so. He chose the high road instead and turned on his heel without a word. He would not stoop to this level of brute discussion. Once Beast was ready to talk man to man, they would do so. And that conversation would start with Beast's apology, because Laurent wouldn’t accept anything else.
He couldn't believe Beast's audacity when he heard the door to the meetings room slam behind him. As if it was Beast who had reason for fury. As if it was Beast who was being left out of matters that most definitely concerned all of them, not just club members.
It brought back the bitter memory of being forced aside during Elliot’s ordeal with the ghost of William Fane. All Laurent had wanted was to save Elliot from torment and to help forever dispose of the threat Fane posed, yet in a misguided bid at protection, Beast had removed Laurent from the scene by force. Laurent would never forget the indignity of being picked up and taken away like some damsel. So maybe he was small, physically weaker than the club members, but not incapable. From what he’d later gathered, it had been his action that pulled Fane out of Elliot and allowed Knight to finally crush the ghost. It had been his risk to take and should have been his choice, no matter what Beast thought.
“Laurent? You need to come back later. They’re having a members meeting.”
His anger cooled down somewhat when he spotted the tall, slender figure approaching from the other end of the corridor. It happened to be Elliot, of all people.
Laurent joined Elliot and together they walked toward the common room, followed by Hound, who seemed mopey rather than energetic. “I know they’re having a meeting, but I shouldn’t be excluded when I know what they’re discussing so late at night concerns everyone.”
He couldn’t understand how Elliot could be so calm about it all. His life was at stake too, yet he was headed for the kitchen as if his appetite knew no bounds.
Elliot’s wide mouth stretched into a smile, and he patted Laurent’s back. “You don’t need to worry. They’ll take care of us.”
Laurent watched Elliot walk up to the kitchen counter and pull out a loaf of bread. How was this a good time for a sandwich?
“This isn’t a question of being taken care of. How can you stay so calm when something is clearly brewing in there?”
Elliot shrugged and started pulling a ridiculous number of condiments and products from the fridge and cupboards. “You should just trust your man. He will tell you everything you need to know. It’s their club, so unless they want to hear our opinion, we should stay back.”
“So you just trust Knight will save you from the impending end of the world, and therefore you don’t need to lift a finger?” Laurent couldn’t keep the poison off his tongue. He and Elliot were good friends, and they’d both suffered at the hands of William Fane, but sometimes Laurent just couldn’t understand him.
Elliot grinned at Laurent as he spread mustard over Nutella. “I’m helping. I’m making him a sandwich. He’s always hungry after those meetings.”
That was it.
Laurent would not spend his life making sandwiches when he could dedicate his time to finding out what the hell was going on.
“I bet he’ll appreciate it,” Laurent said, without a hint of emotion.
“This mix is his new favorite. But wait for it… secret ingredient.” Elliot smiled and crunched a few Doritos on top of the sandwich before he closed the revolting mix with another slice of bread.
Laurent was already backing out of the kitchen when Elliot pointed his way with one finger. “By the way! There was so much going on recently that I forgot to talk to you about this, but a new ghost made contact with me. He must have intentionally avoided me and Knight by hanging out in the woods.”
Laurent’s feet itched to move, but he stopped at the promise of new information. “Oh? What kind of ghost? Who is he?”
Elliot placed the sandwich on the plate, adding a few dots of ketchup and mustard around it in a parody of haute cuisine, but looked Laurent’s way as soon as he was done. “It’s this trapper, but I can barely understand him. Knight says he’s speaking French. If I let him possess me, you could talk to him, because he’s being a pest. Keeps shouting at us and making angry gestures.”