KNOCKED UP BY THE BAD BOY

by Nicole Fox

  Charlene signaled a commercial break as Emily began to wind down on her little speech. “We'll be back in just a moment, after this break, and, when we return, we'll have a special guest.”

  Emily kept her perfect smile, but she felt a little twinge, despite her poise. Special guest? She hadn't been told about a special guest.

  The reporter leaned in as the cameraman signaled that they were clear. “Sorry to spring this on you,” she said. “But the next guest may cause a bit of a shock.”

  “Guess you want to keep it as a surprise, then?” Emily asked, slightly incredulous.

  “It'll make for better TV,” Charlene replied, as she fiddled with her mic and adjusted it. She caught Emily's wary eyes and gave her a warm smile. “I promise.”

  Soon, the cameraman and state director were signaling that they were coming back up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 ...

  “I'm Charlene Padilla, and we're back with my special guest, Emily West, former CEO of BioSphere, which some viewers may remember from the Hymalete scandal just over a year ago. Now, we have a special guest, one whom is very happy to see our current one.”

  At that cue, a tall, ginger-haired man with brooding, dark brown eyes came onto the stage. From his powerful build and the way he stood ramrod straight and moved with purpose, the casual observer could instantly tell he was ex-military.

  Dane Bishop.

  Emily's mouth dropped open a little as she watched him cross the studio stage. Every bit of him was just as she remembered, except for how smoothly shaven he was. She rose as he came closer and hugged him tightly.

  # # #

  Dane

  Dane watched Emily on the screen hugging the man who might as well have been a stranger to her. He grinned, despite the fact that he wasn't the one there holding her. It was good to see Benton moving around and not wearing an orange jump suit.

  He could tell from the way she embraced Benton on screen that she instantly knew something was wrong. It was the way he held her, Dane knew. Not like a lover. Not like the man that was meant to be with her for the rest of her life.

  “Emily,” Benton said.

  She smiled as she realized who it really was, and, even though they were separated by guards, fences, cell walls, and many miles, Dane smiled right along with her.

  Benton was finally out after all this time, finished with his treatments, with his hard-fought freedom finally granted. The two broke apart and took their seats across from Charlene, who seemed to have grown only more respectable in the intervening year.

  The money from the lawsuit against BioSphere, for knowingly releasing a harmful product and willfully misleading customers and doctors, had fueled the legal defense they'd set for Benton. With the news breaking, they'd won an appeal for brand new evidence and been able to have his sentence changed, due to the temporary insanity. Now, after his time in a treatment facility, he was free to walk the world again with his own two feet.

  Dane couldn't be happier, even as he sat in the TV room amongst the other inmates, watching the exchange on the screen.

  “Honestly, it's been painful,” Benton replied to Charlene's question about what life was like with Dane being on the inside. “I feel as if my brother switched places with me, getting me out while he got himself in. But, even though I feel he's not truly guilty of any crime other than wanting to help his brother set things right, I understand that there have to be consequences.”

  “It's a surprisingly light sentence for what he did, wouldn't you agree, Emily?” Charlene asked.

  Emily made a face, weighing how she should respond. “Light compared to what?” she replied, by way of a rhetorical question. “He never injured anyone, even the man who masterminded the entire deception around Hymalete, or the men and women on the board of BioSphere. They're the ones who willingly hurt first responders and military veterans, an untold number who have been forced to take what's left of the corporation to court. Is it justice for a man who made a series of rash decisions to protect men and women all over the country should have to spend even a single day behind bars? Even the police who took him into custody told me right afterward that they appreciated what he had done for them, and that they would have let him go, if they had the choice.”

  “Simply put,” Benton added where she left off, “my brother is a hero. Emily had tried to pull the drug off the market, but as soon as they forced her out, they were going to put it back on and try to reap more profits. Dane Bishop stopped that.”

  Dane frowned. They talked about him like he was Robin Hood, or the second coming. He hadn't thought about any of the stuff they were talking about. He'd just wanted Benton out of prison for a crime he wasn't guilty of. Sure, maybe he had committed it, but that wasn't what guilt meant. Guilt meant responsibility.

  And, as much as they talked on the screen, Dane knew he was guilty of everything they'd charged him with. He'd created a fake incident and soaked up valuable police resources. He'd taken Edward Barker hostage at gunpoint. He'd done that, and more.

  Dane had no problem admitting to it, either. He was guilty of his crimes, and he had decided long ago to take responsibility for it, and leave the legal fund to Benton's defense. His brother had needed it more.

  Besides, his time was almost up. His year behind these walls had been a small price to pay for his brother being alive and well outside in the world.

  “What plans do you have going forward?” Charlene asked the two of them.

  “Healing,” Benton said flatly. “A lot of personal healing. Ever since I came back, my life has just been dismantled, completely taken apart. I want to rebuild and try to move forward, despite my own losses. I feel like it's the only thing I can do to honor my family's memory.”

  “What about you, Emily?”

  Emily smiled and shyly raised her left hand. A giant of a diamond, probably costing far more than Dane could ever have afforded, stood out from her ring finger. “Well,” she said, “I actually met someone at my new company, and he and I recently became engaged.”

  Dane's mouth dropped open.

  She was . . . no. It couldn't be.

  But, there was the evidence right in front of him, as plain as the day was long.

  He closed his mouth and gritted his teeth shut. It was okay. He'd deal with this, just like he'd dealt with every setback. It wasn't going to kill him. It was just going to make him stronger. That's what life was—a series of things that made you grow as a human being. He'd taken down BioSphere with Emily's help. He could withstand the blow of her moving on and finding someone else.

  Besides, she looked happy there, showing her ring off for the home audience. She looked much happier than when he'd first seen her as BioSphere's CEO. And, to Dane, that was what mattered most. Her happiness.

  His? His was secondary. He was happy she was with someone who deserved her.

  He swallowed hard and sighed, repeating his words back to himself again and again.

  “I'm happy she's with someone who deserves her,” he said aloud, reminding himself one last time, even as he hung his head in defeat.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dane

  The corrections officer working the property desk at prison outtake looked over the card and glanced up at him. He was an older man, with big, puffy, white eyebrows like ancient graying caterpillars crawling over the tops of his eyes. “Dane Bishop?”

  Dane nodded, taking a deep breath. It had been too long since he was referred to as a name and not a number. “That's me.”

  The CO took the voucher, tapped it on the metal window counter, then turned back around and went deep into the room to find the plastic tub that contained Dane's worldly possessions. He came back with it all sealed in a plastic bag.

  “Wallet containing one-hundred-fifteen-dollars, silver Bulova dress watch, ID, public library card . . .” the man droned on and on, listing every little bit of every item right off the catalog card as he slid it back to Dane through the slot beneath the plexiglass window.

  Dane st
uffed the items in the various pockets of the suit Benton and his lawyer had gotten him for his last court date, the one where he'd plead guilty on all charges related to that night.

  “Finally, one cell phone,” the old corrections officer said.

  “Thanks,” Dane replied, as he took it, checked the phone to see if, on an off change in hell, the mobile device had any power or service after this long. No luck, though. The phone didn't power up.

  “Hey,” the corrections officer asked, as Dane turned to leave this life finally behind.

  Dane stopped in his tracks. “What?” he growled, a little more abrasively than he probably needed to. He'd spent a year locked up in here, dealing with criminals who and other shady folk. He'd learned quickly that you had to assert your dominance and prove you were more trouble than you worth.

  The CO held up his hands, a defensive look in his eyes. “Hey, buddy, just wanted to see if you was the guy who busted that big drug company, that's all.”

  The vet nodded. “Yeah, that's me, I guess.”

  “Well, just wanted to say thanks, you know? I used to be a full-on guard, and them papers you released kept me and my wife from splitting up when the medication made things worse. Won my lawsuit cause of you.”

  The gratitude from this man should have helped things, should have lessened the hurt he was feeling for having a year of his life taken away from him, or the ache he felt from Emily finding another man. It should have helped, but it didn't. Dane didn't smile, just nodded instead. “Welcome,” he simply said, then headed out to finish the rest of his outtake.

  Only a week had passed since he had seen the interview with Benton and Emily on Charlene Padilla's talk show. Seven days, seven nights.

  The guards marched him out down the walk, through the chain-linked corridor, and to the road, where a cab was waiting, idle. “Good luck,” the guards said, as he stepped out beyond the fences, a free man for the first time in over a year. He took a deep breath, inhaling as much freedom as he could hold.

  He looked up and down the empty, desolate road, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t called for a car. He hadn't wanted to tell Benton about his release date because he didn't want him standing out here. He had wanted to figure it out on his own. Now, honestly, he regretted that decision a little bit.

  This was the second time he'd been free like this. The first time was after the military. That freedom had been cut short by the problems with Benton, and Dane had never really experienced a fresh start. Just a false one.

  “You Dane Bishop?” the cabby asked, as Dane looked up and down the road.

  “Who's asking?”

  The cabby, an older black woman, who looked like she could handle herself if she had to, just grinned. “Me. Husband said you were the one who busted up that drug company and saved our marriage. Wanted you to have a ride outta here.”

  Dane looked back over his shoulder at the prison gate, like he could see the property officer beyond. “Yeah, I'm Dane,” he replied as he walked up to the cab.

  “Where you headed, then?”

  He told her the address as he walked around to the passenger side. “Mind if I sit up front? Metal grating is the last thing I want right now.”

  The older woman didn't think twice. She just grinned again. “Hop in, sugar. I trust you.”

  They drove away from the prison with no more words exchanged between them. This was the first woman he'd seen, besides a prison guard, in almost a year, and he had forgotten how much he missed the entire gender.

  They pulled up in front of the house almost an hour later and Dane took out his wallet. “How much I owe you?” he asked, as he thumbed through the money that amounted to pretty much all his worldly possessions.

  “You, sugar? Free of charge. Told you, my husband called. We owe you one. Hell, I should be the one paying you.”

  Dane allowed himself a little smile as he climbed out of the cab. “Thanks,” he said.

  “This your place?” the cabby asked, as he went to shut the door.

  “Nope,” Dane said, pausing to look around the affluent neighborhood. “Old friend's.” He shut the door and turned around to survey it. There was new grass in the front yard, and a new mailbox had been built. But, other than that, the enormous house was exactly as he remembered it.

  He straightened out the front of his dress shirt and tried to lay down its wrinkles as he headed up the walkway to the door.

  Behind him, the cabby seemed to wait a moment before deciding her debt to Dane was fully paid and driving off.

  He stepped up to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

  Just one last goodbye to say and then he'd truly be free.

  # # #

  Emily

  The knock in early evening came as a surprise. She hadn't been expecting anyone before her dinner date, and Ian and she had decided they'd meet at the restaurant. Even then, though, he'd be early, if he was picking her up.

  “Coming,” she called, as she headed down the hallway in her black, backless dress and silk stockinged feet, putting on her earrings as she went. Flustered as she was, she didn't ever bother to check the peephole before swinging the door open.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when she saw him, her hand dropping from her ear, her lips parting, and her eyes widening in surprise.

  Cleanly shaved, hair well-trimmed, bigger than she remembered, dark suit, cream dress shirt, and no tie. And, of course, Dane had those same piercing eyes she remembered from a year ago, when she'd last seen him.

  He swept into the house, not even bothering to say “hello.” He didn't need to, and they both knew it. He took her in his arms as he kicked the door closed behind him, slamming it shut with a resounding boom.

  She melted at his firm hands as they grabbed her body like he knew it inside and out. Which, of course, he did. He knew her better than any man ever had. He knew all her secret, dark cravings, and he knew how to tease them from her willing body. Her breath came faster and her heart sped up as he crushed her lips with his. She opened her mouth and invited his tongue in.

  They groaned like they'd been starving all their lives and a lavish feast had been laid out before them. As if she was light as a feather, he lifted her into his arms, his lips still pressed to hers. He carried her down the entryway, through the living room, and up the hallway to her bedroom. He didn't need to be reminded of the layout, and walked the path as if he'd lived there his whole life.

  He dropped her on the edge of bed and, together, they began to tear his clothes off. “Dane,” she started to whisper, to protest what they were doing, what she was feeling. “We sh—”

  “No,” he said, taking her face in both hands and kissing her again. “No speaking.”

  She nodded, her lust taking control of her. She needed to feel him inside her. She had to be crushed in his arms as he pinned her to the mattress beneath his weight. She needed him like water, or air. She tried to think of Ian, her fiancé, but that only lasted a moment. Here was Dane, the man she'd been longing for.

  He shrugged out of his shirt as she gazed up at him, her hands working on his belt buckle. He pulled off his undershirt and threw it aside, then stepped out of his dress shoes as she worked the zipper on his slacks.

  Emily couldn't take her eyes from his bare chest, his hard muscles, his knowing, sometimes cruel hands, and the new puckered scars of the bullets he'd shielded her from. She wanted him to take her, to use her, to hold her, and to love her.

  Together, they finished stripping him of his clothes and began to work on hers. Luckily, she only had a dress and her underthings on. She reached around back and unzipped her dress, and Dane pulled it over her head.

  His lips were on hers again in a flash, his tongue insistent. She opened her mouth to him as he unsnapped her bra and pulled it from her body. Emily nipped his tongue lightly with her teeth, pushing herself into his insistent hand as he cupped her breast and pushed her back onto the bed.

  She moaned into his mouth as his other hand dropped b
etween her legs, his fingers tracing up and down the front of her damp silk panties. She cried out a little as he rubbed through the thin material, pressing her hips up and into his probing fingers. She scratched her nails up and down his back, marveling at how much broader he'd become while he'd been in lockup.

  “Please, Dane,” she whispered, as his mouth moved to her ear and neck, then down to her collar bone. “ Please, I need you.”