by Isabel Wroth
“Yeah, Prez. I got you.”
Top furiously scrawled something on a slip of paper and slapped it on the desk, stabbing at it with a glare so hot it scalded and told him to fuck off. “Sober the fuck up. I want this done, today. We gotta ride out tonight to meet with that dickless player that’s got it in his head his money, trumps our rule about no whores or drugs on our turf. Got some slick ass mercenaries he thing is gonna protect his sick ass and I fucking need you sharp. Not fucking rabid. But if that grass ain’t done, I’m taking Flapper and Bull instead of you.” The fuck he was getting replaced by pair of wet behind the ear fucking prospects. He didn’t say a fucking word, just grabbed the slip of paper and got up, queasy as fuck and did his best to not puke inside Top’s office.
The air outside was fresher, cooler, the sunlight feeling like shards of glass digging through his eyeballs, but a glance to the front lawn of the compound had his ears heating. Crater was right, the tires on his Fat Boy had dug trenches in the green grass. “Shit.” He found a pair of sunglasses in the truck and pushed them on his face, grateful for their meager protection. He rolled the windows down just in case he needed to pull over and hurl, glancing at the address that was a half hour away “Fuck.” He turned the key and nearly lost his mind as the music blasted out of the speakers. “Motherfucking…Ruckus!” He roared, which only made the pounding in his head worse. “Little bastard’s lucky he ain’t around.” He muttered to himself as he turned out of the lot. “All your fault, ginger. All your fucking fault.”
He probably would have appreciated the place Top had sent him to, if not for the nasty headache, and the sycophantic little twat flirting with him. It was some kind of farm, shit growing everywhere, tinkling wind chimes that hung from trees, the smell of fertilizer ripe on the air, so ripe it turned his stomach. There were two buildings, a little farm house across the fields, and a big hot house that had a shit ton of flowers growing on one end, and a shop like storefront on the other end with jars of herbs, hippie shit, candles, crystals, incense, a little coffee bar where he’d attracted said sycophant. She’d quivered like a bitch in heat when he’d ordered the biggest cup of coffee they had, black, and breathlessly told him she had the cure for his hangover. “I’ll tip you fifty bucks if it works, sweetheart.” He’d growled, holding up that fifty, watching her eyes turn round and greedy lust paint her cheeks.
She wasn’t anything special to look at, he’d had better. Which instantly made him think of that ginger bitch, which pissed him off. But she delivered. She made him some nasty little shot of something that was green and tasted like grass covered cow shit. But five minutes later, and that brain bashing headache was gone. She’d breathlessly asked if she could do anything else for him, and wanting out of there as fast as he could get, he told her he was there to buy some sod. “Of course. What kind? We have Bermuda, fescue, centipede grass, Kentucky bluegrass, um Rye-“
“I don’t fucking know. It’s green.” He’d growled, and her lashes fluttered while she laughed nervously. He’d waved his hand at her and called Top to ask what kind of god damn grass, and after getting the answer, he hung up. “Bermuda.”
“No problem, that’s the most common one.”
He lowered his sunglasses to hopefully convey with his chilling look, that she should have just fucking said that in the first place. But one look at his eyes and she sighed like a teenager and came around to take his arm, “more than happy to show him the grass,” Whatever. He wanted the fuck out of there, so he let her lead him around the building to the rows of plants and small trees, stopping dead when he heard a laugh that made his thighs quiver. “Fuck me running,” He hissed, turning to see a familiar face crouching down with a little girl, showing her something that was making the kid giggle and squeal in delight, and her mom grin behind her. But his eyes were all for that familiar face.
His ginger bitch.
Everly.
“Isn’t that cute? Miz Nolan just hatched some caterpillars for the hot house, looks like the kiddo found one.”
His sycophant cooed, and he didn’t even spare her a glance, fixated on watching the way the sunshine made the long tail of Everly’s hair shimmer like fire. “Miz Nolan, huh?” She was every bit as fucking beautiful by day as she was at night, which chapped his hide that she wasn’t some hag. Some figment of his imagination sent to torture him and twist his nuts around till the felt like they were gonna burst. “Yeah. She owns the place,” A nursery. Susan had said she owned a nursery, and he’d thought one of those kid corrals or something. “She’s usually running around here like a crazy person, but the baby seems to be mellowing her out.”
“Baby?” He wheezed, just as she stood up and revealed the little bump under her t-shirt, “Yeah. She’s about four months along, so scandalous,” The twat snickered, whispering like she was sharing some dirty secret. “She’s not married or anything, and none of us have seen a guy around...”
He was frozen to the spot, the twat’s words fading away while he focused on his ginger bitch. On watching her move through a world that had turned into slow motion. The breeze blew a lock of hair across her cheek while she smiled at the mother of the other kid, chatting with her and shrugged while she lay a palm on that little bump and rubbed it with that smile still firmly in place. In those snug, ass hugging jeans and her snug company t-shirt, there was no mistaking or hiding what his eyes were seeing. The shock gave way to murderous fucking rage. Rage that vibrated his body with the effort it took to control himself. “We’re taking bets to see who’s got the right story about how the miracle occurred.”
Chapter Three
It crossed his mind, for the first time in his life, to hit a woman. The slut on his arm giggled like what she’d just said wasn’t the most offensive thing he’d ever heard in his fucking life, and his fury exploded out of his mouth, giving explanation for why his brother’s had dubbed him, Roar. “EVERLY!”
She jolted like she’d been slapped, and the only reason he didn’t make a fucking scene right there, was the way her hand went protectively to her stomach. Though when she saw him, the smile in her eyes drained away to surprise. Guilty, fucking surprise. Those incredible eyes of hers flicked to the girl still on his arm, and if he hadn’t been looking so hard at her face, he’d have missed the way they narrowed a fraction. So fucking enraged, he couldn’t speak, so he just crooked a finger at her, commanding her to come to him. She looked away quickly to excuse herself from the other woman, carefully handing the little girl the caterpillar on her finger, and luckily for her, obeyed him.
She got close enough for him to smell that sweet scent of her skin, which now made sense. The natural flowery scent mixed with lemons and sunshine. He heard her swallow nervously, but like the strong bitch she was, she faced him down and pasted a cool smile on her face, “Roar. This is a surprise,” A muscle in his jaw started ticking, that acidic, evil feeling rage surging through his veins so hot that he wondered if his skin would melt. “Yeah. Sure fuckin is. This little twat is telling me all about the scandalous secret her and your other employees are gossiping about. Apparently there’s a bet going, on who’s got the right guess as to how you got pregnant.” He accusingly growled the last bit, and felt the girl jump away from him like he’d just sprouted horns and blown fire out his nostrils.
Everly’s eyes just turned the same molten gold and green they had when she’d come all over his dick, and lasered in on the stammering bitch beside him. “You’re fired. I’ll send you your last paycheck in the mail. Five minutes, or I will bury you in the fucking compost with the rest of the trash.” The twat gasped and found some balls, stomping her foot like a little girl, “I’m trashy? Pot calling fucking kettle, bitch! You-“ He grabbed her by the back of the neck and bent down to growl in her ear, “If you keep running your mouth, you will not like the consequences. Get. Lost. Now.” She squeaked in fright and ran, leaving him alone with Everly, and his gut churning rage.
Everly didn’t say anything, just looked up at him like she
was confused, and genuinely surprised to see him, while he fought to stay calm and not jump to any conclusions. She was a hot bitch, probably had a string of fucking dogs panting after that tight little box, which only added more fuel to the fire of his anger. Imagining some other faceless dick, fucking her into the mattress and hearing those breathless cries of her pleasure. Tasting the sweet juice that flowed like a river of honey out of her pussy. Kissing her soft lips until they were red and puffy with passion. “You’re pregnant.” He finally managed to push out from between his teeth. She took a deep breath and tucked her hands in her front pockets, rocking back on her heels while she looked down at that little bump. “Yep.” She stated calmly, and he began to frantically hope that it wasn’t his kid, that she had come to him already knocked up, and that’s why she hadn’t been worried about him fucking her raw. No rubber. “You come to my bed that way?”
“Nope.”
The sunglasses in his hand made an audible crunch as his fist tightened around them instead of her slender, beautiful throat. “You said you were on the pill.” She tilted her head, looking clearly confused, like, fucking legitimately confused and blinked her long lashes at him. “I said I had an implant. In my arm. And I did.” She turned her arm to show him the scar on the inside of her bicep and took a breath to continue speaking, but he saw red and cut loose, “Then how in the FUCK, did that happen!?” Her lips pressed together with displeasure at his bellow and she sighed like she was tired. Crossed her arms over her chest protectively, while her cheeks turned pink. “Can we continue this conversation some other time-“
“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE!”
From the corner of is eye he saw every head in the vicinity turn towards him, and felt his lips peel back from his teeth in a feral snarl when some squatty little bastard in a beanie, wearing a fucking apron, came over to put his hand on his ginger bitch, looking at him like the little fuck could take him on. “Everything okay, boss?” The fucker asked, and he felt a surge of blood hit him, the waves of rage slapping so high that had Everly not socked him in the arm with her little hand to get his attention, he’d have flung himself at the pansy ass mother fucker. “Yes, Todd.” She glared at him, like he was the one in trouble, and moved to put herself in front of the other man protectively. “I know this guy, its fine. Thanks for checking on me.” Todd, looked skeptical, but clearly knew he stood zero chance if he went up against Perdition. That he was willing to even pretend, spoke to how willing he was to put his dick on the line for Everly. He wondered if he was a frequent flier on her sheets, “Oh and Todd, if I hear anything else about you and the others gossiping about my pregnancy, I will fire all of you. This is the only notice I’ll give. So spread the word.”
From how Todd’s cheeks turned ruddy under the thick beard on his face, and the submissive, “Yes, ma’am,” He choked out before scurrying away, he figured the guy was too much of a pussy to be any concern. “You,” Everly snapped at him, “Back the fuck off. You want to talk to me, fine. You will not shout at me in my place of business. Get on your bike, and follow me up to the house, or go the fuck away.” She pointed to a long driveway on the other side of the lot where he’d parked, raised her eyebrows challengingly and turned on her heel to head towards it. He was so fucking stunned, frozen by his fury, that all he could do was watch her walk off. He could hear the front door of her house slam when she entered, and the bang jolted him into motion.
He got in the truck, hit the speed dial on his cell and Top answered with a clipped, “What now?”
“Take Flapper and Bull to the meet. The grass ain’t getting done today. I just found the bitch that’s been busting my balls.”
“And I fucking care why?”
“She’s pregnant.”
There was silence long enough for him to get to the end of the driveway, “Yours?” Top asked darkly, and he grunted. “Probably.”
“Probably? Son, I know you’re not dumb enough to fuck some bitch without a rubber.”
“Used one. It broke. Said she had that implant thing. Haven’t seen her in four months.” He bit out his explanation in short, detail free sentences, and heard Top clear his throat uncomfortably. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He said ominously.
He didn’t bother to say goodbye. He hung up, got out of the truck and slammed the door so hard the window glass cracked. Stomped up the stairs and whipped her front door open, only to be accosted by a big golden retriever, intent on licking his face off, “Squatch! NO! Outside!” The dog dropped back down to the floor, having left two dust paw prints on his cut, looked at him adoringly and obeyed his mistress by tearing off towards the back of the small cottage. “You named your dog, Squatch?” He snarled, and heard her snort from somewhere deeper into the house, “I had him before I met you. You have the same color hair, sue me.”
He followed the sound of her sensual voice and found her in the sunny kitchen, mixing something up in one of those stone grinder things, a kettle on her gas stove just starting to whistle. He watched her, bracing his hands on the countertop, squeezing so hard his fucking bones threatened to snap, “Is it mine?” He finally managed, watching her calmly pour herself a mug of that hot water and use some fucked up gadget to scoop up some stuff and plonked it in the water. “Yes.”
“Why in the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
Most everyone he’d ever used that vicious roar on, pissed themselves in terror. Everly? She just turned around and looked at him like he was annoying her, stirring her gadget around in her mug, added an ice cube, blew on the surface of the steaming water, sipped and then tilted her head with that genuinely curious expression on her face. Like she was trying to figure him out. “Honestly? I didn’t think you’d care.” He made a noise that even to him sounded inhuman, strangled. He couldn’t keep himself from rounding the countertop, slapping the mug out of her hands, uncaring that the hot liquid splashed all over his boots and grabbed her by the shoulders to give her a shake, “Not care that I knocked a bitch up with my kid? Are you serious?”
Her head shot back with the volume of his roar, and she closed her eyes for a minute, her cheeks washing bright red with what he thought was embarrassment. But when she opened her eyes, her fury matched his own. “Do you want me to explain, or are you going to shake the shit out of me while you scream in my face?” She bit out with the most adorable look of feminine rage on her features. If he hadn’t been so fucking mad, he’d have kissed the shit out of her. He forced himself, finger by finger to let her go and took a deep breath to try and find some sanity, but the emotions rocking around inside him were intense. Almost more than he could deal with, on the edge of fracturing something inside him he hadn’t realized was so fragile. “Explain.” He ordered, and she fucking rolled her eyes at him, moving around him to grab a dish towel to throw on the tea all over the floor, “I’d had the flu, serious plague three weeks before we met. Took a massive dose of antibiotics for seven days, which gave me fourteen more for the hormones in the birth control to reactivate. I met you, on day sixteen. I fully expected the implant to be functional, so believe me, it was a fuck of a surprise when I went back to the doctor, thinking I was having a flu relapse, and popped up pregnant.”
“Which is the day you didn’t call me, why?” He growled, back to gripping the counter top white knuckled to keep his hands off of her.
She sighed like she was tired, shoved her hair out of her face after dumping the shards of her coffee mug into the trash and turned around to face him again, hugging herself, rubbing her biceps like she was cold. “I sat on your lap at that bonfire, and one of your brothers commented how pretty a couple we made. Teased you about settling down and starting a family before your cock fell off from all the fucking around. I literally was right there when you announced to several witnesses, and I quote, ‘it’ll be a cold fucking day in hell, before that happens.’” She raised her brows again, interrupting him when he went to respond, “We had a wild ride, after which you told me to get lost. I wasn’t going to come waltzing back in th
ere to tell you, congratulations, you got your pussy of the day pregnant with a kid you very loudly said you didn’t want. I’m trying hard here to stay rational and not scream right back at you, the hormones make it difficult to keep a lid on it, so please, as calmly as you can manage, tell me where I went wrong.”
He spun away from her to pace back and forth on the other side of the counter, gulping in as much air as he could get, even though he was back to feeling like he had to puke. He tried to come up with an answer, because she was so fucking wrong, but not about what he’d said. He didn’t want kids. From the day his mother died, he’d sworn he would never have children. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t correct, and for a pregnant woman, she was being very reasonable, but fuck all if that didn’t make him even madder. “I had a fucking right to have a say in this,” He finally came up with that, and she waved her hand at him, “Okay. So, say it.”
“You’re keeping it.” He bit out, and she shrugged, “Yeah?” she said it like it was already a fact, clearly misunderstanding. “You’re keeping it. No adoption, no getting rid of it, no foster home shit.” Her brow creased in a serious frown, both hands going down to that little bump like she was shielding that seed inside her from him. There was even a touch of horror to the tears that filled her eyes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She seethed, and no lie, the tears that slid down her pale cheeks cut at him. Made him bleed when he was already hemorrhaging, and she didn’t stop. “I didn’t tell you because you didn’t want this. I don’t expect your help, I really don’t fucking want it, I can do this on my own.”
