This woman deserved a life of being treated like a queen, not being abandoned by some little fuck who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
Paul let out a nervous laugh. “And, uh… what responsibility would that be, sir?” he squeaked.
Rogan felt the rage beginning to boil inside him, but the genuine look of ignorance and confusion on Paul’s face told him to rein it back in.
“If I have to tell you what kind of responsibility a man needs to take when he knocks a girl up, then you and I have bigger problems than I thought,” Rogan said, quick and sharp.
Paul’s eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open. “Wait, Farren’s pregnant?” he asked in disbelief.
Rogan began to realize something didn’t seem right. “You didn’t know?”
Paul shook his head. “No. I can’t believe it. I didn’t know she was even dating anyone else since me. I mean, I guess it makes sense.”
“She hasn’t, dumb-ass. You’re the father.” There, he came out and said it.
Paul’s shocked look turned to adamant denial. “Look, man, I don’t know what makes you think that, but Farren and I haven’t been together in months.”
“Oh yeah? What, about three?” Rogan asked.
“No, more like six or seven. When I tried to get back with her a couple months back, she turned me down hard,” Paul admitted. “And we were always careful, so I’m pretty sure she’d be impossible to mistake for being pregnant right now if her baby was really mine.”
Rogan’s head spun as he wrapped his mind around the idea that Paul could be telling the truth.
He looked back toward his truck, then back at Paul. “I’ve got to go,” he said as he began jogging back to get in his vehicle.
He had a lot more to deal with tonight, and Paul had just added a whole new item to that growing list.
***
When Rogan pulled up to Elaina’s Lounge, he didn’t miss Dallas’s Beamer parked conspicuously in the front. This would be perfect, he thought. He could kill two proverbial birds with one stone.
He walked in and strolled straight to the bar in front of Elaina, who had a vodka on the rocks waiting for him as he sat.
“He’s in the back,” Elaina said quietly, pouring another drink for one of the other patrons down the bar.
Rogan nodded, bringing the cool tumbler to his lips and letting the liquid burn a cool path down his throat.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” he warned her.
“I didn’t expect it would be, Rogue. I can’t protect him anymore. He’s a poison, ruining everything he touches. I can’t take it anymore,” she said, and he knew she was right.
They had both protected Dallas Evans for far too long, for the sake of their dead brother, Craigan.
“Elaina, you don’t understand. This goes deeper than just trying to sell me out to take over my company, and not for the first time.”
Yes, he knew Dallas had been involved in the last round of this shit, several years ago. Dallas wasn’t nearly as smooth as he thought he was, or maybe it was just that Rogan wasn’t as dumb as Dallas thought everyone around him was. Maybe both, but either way, it hadn’t taken him long to figure out how he had set up the last assistant to take the fall in the process of taking him down.
Rogan had been able to foil Dallas’s master plan the last time, and this time was no different. He had real ties to his stakeholders that Dallas had been trying to buy out to do him in, and that was one thing Dallas hadn’t counted on.
Had it not been for a decade old promise he had made to a dying man, a man who had saved him from the same fate those years ago, Dallas would have been gone a long time ago.
That was the thing with older brothers – they thought they had to protect their younger siblings at all costs, but sometimes, Rogan found, those costs come at too high a price. It was a price he was no longer willing to pay.
“He put his hands on a woman carrying my child today,” Rogan told her, and the weight of his words was not lost on Elaina.
Her eyes went wide. “Rogan, are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?” she asked.
He nodded, and he was sick that he couldn’t stop for a moment to let himself feel the happiness that welled in his chest at the realization.
Elaina nodded. “Take him in the back room. If I need to call the cops, you say the word.”
Rogan stood, nodded, and gave her a long, deep look that said he hated what he was about to do, but he hated even more that Dallas was forcing his hand to do it. So he shut off his feelings and prepared himself for the worst.
TWENTY THREE
Walking up to the pool table that Dallas was playing on with a couple of his shady, goon friends, Rogan approached him, removing his glasses and setting them on a nearby table.
“Let’s take a walk, Dallas,” he ordered.
Dallas looked around at his friends. “Guys, anybody up for a walk?” He looked from one guy to the other, each of them staring back at him. “No? All right then, Rayner. Looks like the guys have spoken. Nobody’s up for a walk at the moment.” He shrugged.
Rogan glared at the goons, and a reputation from younger years preceded him. The men stood and left without a word.
“You were saying?” Rogan said to Dallas once they were alone.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Dallas said, bowing his chest out in a show of dominance.
“Good, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say anyway, but you’re going to follow me to the back, and you’re going to listen.”
He slapped a hand on the back of Dallas’s neck and directed him back to the small, secluded room in the back of the club, sometimes reserved for high-stakes poker tournaments or other private parties of varying degrees. Once they got to the private room, Rogan pushed Dallas ahead of him, and Dallas turned around looking as though he were ready to throw down.
“Oh, see? Now, that’s fucking hilarious right there, since I was under the impression you liked putting your hands on people. Or is that just people weaker and defenseless against you? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” Rogan accused, and the vitriol was evident on his face.
Dallas said nothing, but he seethed with hatred and resentment.
Rogan continued. “Let me tell you how this is going to go down. First…” He held up a finger, inches away from Dallas’s face. “You’re going to pack your shit up and have your belongings, and yourself, removed from my property before morning.”
Dallas scoffed, making light of the situation. “Rogan, don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
His comment was ignored.
“Two…” Rogan’s face was mere inches away from Dallas’s now, and his voice was deceptively quiet and low. Dallas continued to stand his ground, unwilling to back down, but Rogan continued. “If you… ever… put your hands on Farren again-”
“What does that worthless little bitch have to do with anything?” Dallas interrupted, fuming.
“Silence!” Rogan demanded.
And it was quiet.
The two men stared each other down, and Dallas was the first to look away. Rogan began circling around him as he continued.
“The only worthless bitch I see is you, and I’m done putting up with your deception and betrayal. You’re done in my company, and you’re done in this city.”
“Bullshit!” Dallas said. “You think I don’t have an Ace or two up my sleeve?”
Rogan laughed and shook his head. Then his hand was on Dallas’s neck, slamming him against the wall. Through clenched teeth, he spoke in a near whisper.
“Let me make this clear. I know exactly what you’ve been up to behind my back, with my stakeholders, my investors, and yes, even my assistant. I know what you’re doing now, and I know what you did five years ago, the last time you pulled this shit. It didn’t work for you then, it’s not going to work now, and as of this very moment, you are un-em-ployed.” He drew out each syllable of the final word to bring his point home.
&nb
sp; When Dallas gave an almost imperceptible nod in acknowledgement, Rogan released his grip from Dallas’s neck and turned to walk away.
Dallas reared back and threw a punch Rogan wasn’t expecting to the back of his head. Rogan was startled for a brief second, caught off guard, and Dallas was on him.
“You son of a bitch,” Dallas seethed.
But Rogan was not to be taken for a fool, and he caught a punch in his hand that had been aimed at his face, using Dallas’s momentum to swing him around with Dallas’s own follow-through.
Dallas growled in frustration and outrage, and the men separated. Their breathing was heavy. Rogan watched, anticipating Dallas’s next move.
“What would my brother say if he could see you now, Rogan?” He cast the name from his mouth with such hatred, as though it were poison on his tongue.
“Maybe you should ask yourself the same question,” Rogan replied. “I’m done letting you get away with murder for the sake of Craigan’s memory.”
“Murder?” Dallas scoffed. “Funny word to mention, coming from the man responsible for Craigan’s death.”
It was the hardest blow he’d suffered yet, because it was the first words from Dallas’s mouth he actually believed were true.
Dallas, seeing he had struck a nerve, went for the kill. “You think you deserve any of this? Your thriving business? Your fucking life? Any of it?”
He waited for Rogan to respond, but Rogan said nothing.
So Elaina did.
“Get out, Dallas.”
Dallas turned, surprised to see his sister in the shadows of the doorway.
“Fuck you, Elaina. Stay out of this,” he ordered, turning his attention back to Rogan who stood, solemn and somber with clenched jaw and fists.
“This is between me, and him,” Dallas added, pointing a finger at Rogan.
“I’m only going to say this one more time, Dallas. Get. Out.” Elaina demanded.
He watched as she emerged from the shadows, flanked by two of her bouncers.
Dallas looked from Rogan, to Elaina, to the two men behind her at the ready. Realizing he was defeated, he looked to Rogan one more time. “This isn’t over,” he said, and he pushed past the bouncers on his way out the door as he left.
“Yes it is,” Rogan said, watching his best friend’s brother walking out of the door, and finally out of his life.
Elaina dismissed the bouncers, having them follow Dallas to make sure he left, and she and Rogan were alone.
She approached him as he stood frozen in place, letting his breath return to normal. He had a cut lip that was beginning to swell, and his shirt was torn at the collar, but he’d seen worse days.
Elaina stood directly in front of him and let out a deep sigh. “He’s wrong, you know. You’re wrong. What happened to Craigan is not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.” Her voice was soft and sure.
He nodded.
Elaina moved to his side, put her arm over his shoulder, and they walked side by side out of the back room.
Much as this day had fucked with him, much as he was exhausted to the bone, his night wasn’t done yet. He still had one more place to go, and he couldn’t get there fast enough.
TWENTY FOUR
Gramma and Shea had sat up with Farren until late that evening when Shea had finally called it a night and gone home. Then Farren had lain on the couch with her head in Gramma’s lap watching mindless television as Gramma softly stroked her hair.
Farren was so heartbroken from her last conversation with Rayner that day that she felt like she could hardly breathe. It felt like a physical aching, hard and heavy inside her chest. She believed she had done the right thing, but if it was right, she didn’t know why everything had to feel so wrong.
She also didn’t know what was going to happen with Dallas. Would he lie his way out of everything and still be there showing his face at work on Monday? Could she keep working there if he was there, knowing she would have to fear for her safety?
She had so many questions and none of the answers.
She pulled in a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh.
“Tell me what bothers you, Farren,” Gramma told her.
“It’s nothing, Gramma. Nothing that anything could fix, except for time.”
Gramma nodded. “You lock everyone out when you need them around you most. I don’t need to ask you why you do this, because I already know why. Just think about it,” she urged.
But Farren had thought about it. If she were being selfish, she would tell Rayner he was the father, ruin his life, and then he’d feel resentment toward her and their baby. What good would that do?
Instead, she would raise the baby on her own. She knew she could do it. She had pretty much been alone all her life, so why would this be any different? It wouldn’t be easy, but she always landed on her feet. It was up to her to make it work, because she couldn’t depend on anyone else to do that for her.
Gramma spoke again in a wistful voice. “Your grandfather and I were married nearly forty five years before the Good Lord took him home. Not everyone is going to leave, Farren. Sometimes you just have to have a little faith.”
Faith was an interesting concept. Faith in people was a hard thing to have. She liked science, numbers, machines – things with concrete physics that worked consistently, time and time again. She liked the reliability of knowing how things like that worked, but people didn’t work that way.
People were imperfect and unreliable. That’s what life had taught her so far.
They stayed quiet for another while longer before Farren sat up. “I’m going to bed, Gramma. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, lifting herself up from Gramma’s lap, and headed to her bedroom.
“Goodnight, my dear,” Gramma replied, remaining planted on the couch, bringing out her crossword puzzle.
Gramma sat for a while in the quiet, with only the light of a small lamp beside her and the light from the muted television. Just as she was about to go to bed herself, she heard a light knock at their door. She gave a knowing smile and a nod.
Peeking through the peep hole, she confirmed who it was and she opened the door, inviting him in.
“I wondered how long it would take you to show up,” Gramma told him, as if she had been expecting him, as Rogan Rayner stood in their doorway.
“Mrs. Fields, I apologize for the late visit. Is Farren home?” he asked, walking inside. “I really need to talk to her.”
“She’s just gone to bed. I think you’re just in time. I’ll go get her,” she said, and disappeared down the hall, leaving Rogan standing in the small living room.
He waited.
Farren was lying awake in her bed, holding her pillow tight as the tears fell freely down her cheeks when the knock on her bedroom door caught her attention. She sat up, wiping the wetness from her face.
“What is it, Gramma?”
The bedroom door opened and Gramma poked her head inside. “Farren, dear, you have a visitor. It’s that devilishly handsome gentleman from the hospital today. He’s waiting for you in the living room.” At that, she pulled Farren’s door to and retired to her bedroom.
Farren went into a frenzy of nerves. What was he doing here? She looked down at the white tank top and cotton pajama pants she was wearing, thinking she should change, but there was no time. He was out there waiting for her.
She went out into the living room and saw him standing, looking more nervous than she had ever seen him look in all the months she’d known him now. Come to think of it, she had never seen him look nervous. This probably wasn’t a good sign.
“Mr. Rayner? What’s wrong?” she asked.
He turned to her, and she noticed a cut on his lip. His shirt was torn, and he looked like he had been through hell and back. Her eyes went wide, and she looked to him questioningly.
“Farren, can we go somewhere and talk?” he asked.
She nodded. “Let me just grab a coat.”
They walked down to his truck and s
tarted driving. He had nowhere in particular he was planning to go, but he thought it might be easier for her to talk to him if he had his eyes on the road and not looking straight at her like he would have liked to do.
After a few miles, he broke the silence between them. “I went to see Paul tonight.”
“You did?” she asked in surprise, turning her head to look at him.
He nodded, looking back at her briefly before turning his eyes back on the road.
“Why?” she asked, softly.
“Because it fucking pissed me off that he wasn’t going to step up and be a father to your child. I couldn’t stand by and let you raise this baby alone. You deserve better than that,” he explained.
Competing emotions warred inside her. She was mortified that he had went to Paul and told him God only knew what, but at the same time, hearing the words that had followed gave her a warm, hopeful feeling.
“I see…” was all she could come up with to say.
Before she knew it, he had pulled over into an empty parking lot and put the truck in park. He shifted in his seat to face her, and he unbuckled her seatbelt to pull her closer to him.
“Farren, this baby is mine, isn’t it?”
Ashamed, she looked out the front windshield to avoid his eye contact.
He brought his hand up to her chin and brought her gaze back to him, leaving his hand on her cheek. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here,” he told her.
Her eyes met his, and she wanted to believe him. Her thoughts went back to Gramma’s words from earlier that now echoed in her mind.
Sometimes you just have to have a little faith.
Her eyes sparkled with tears that threatened to spill, but she took a deep breath and decided once and for all.
“Yes, Rogan, you are the father,” she admitted, and she watched him to see his reaction.
It was quiet for what felt like ages, and then she watched a smile spread from one corner of his mouth to the other.
He said nothing. He didn’t have to. He leaned into her and kissed her with the crushing force of passion. He pulled her into his lap so that she straddled him, and he threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her in to kiss her, deep, warm, and hard.
Boss Unyielding: A Secret Baby Office Romance (The Boss Series Book 1) Page 12