Billionaire Biker's Secret Baby_A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense

by Weston Parker

  “No one knows where Brent is. Believe me, if I could get him here, I would.”

  Dad reaches for a hanger containing a suit, but as he picks it up, it slips out of his hands. He’s got so little strength. “Let’s sit back down,” I say gently, leading him back to the bed. “We need to talk about this.”

  “You and your damn brother. Can’t rely on either of you for anything, can I?” He spits the words out with such bitterness that it rocks me. I’ve known since I left for basic training that my father was disappointed in my choices, but to hear it sucks just the same.

  “Brent’s been plotting things for longer than you think. I know you don’t want to believe me, but he set me up with that ridiculous robbery. And he hired mercenaries to kidnap my daughter and her mother.”

  “Your daughter?” My father lets out a bark of laughter. “Man I really must have been out of it. I didn’t know you had a baby.”

  “Neither did I, for a damn decade.”

  My father is looking at me, and a sudden sadness enters his eyes. “That girl you were in love with in high school. You knocked her up, didn’t you?”

  I nod, not being able to say the words out loud of a reason I can’t understand.

  “I wondered about that until I decided to ignore it.”

  I lean back, shocked. “What do you mean, you wondered about it?”

  “She was an intern down at the foundation. Then her belly got big, and she asked for a job. I told them to hire her, just in case you were dumb enough to get her pregnant and then abandon her to go play Army Man.”

  “You knew? You knew the whole time?”

  “I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected.”

  “Sabrina never told me about the baby. I just recently found out. You could have saved me years of missed opportunities if you would have said something.”

  “And pull you away from fulfilling your destiny and becoming a hero? I figured if billions of dollars weren’t enough to keep you here, a baby wouldn’t be either.”

  “You were wrong.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Head in my hands, I try to catch my breath. I knew my family was fucked up, but every day it’s like we sink to a new low.

  “What are we going to do, son?” The anxiety in his voice pulls me back from my black thoughts. “We can’t let the company go down now. Our family built it from nothing. Just because we’re singular pieces of shit, that doesn’t mean the company is. We’ve got to save it.”

  He’s agitated, his breathing labored. I’m struck by what a weak old man he appears to be.

  “Maybe it’s better off without us,” I say. “Maybe the board can find someone more qualified, someone who can pull it back from the brink Brent drove it to.”

  “No one else is personally invested like we are. They’ll break it up, sell it off piece-by-piece. Or worse, they’ll move things offshore to cut costs. Exploit the poor of some underdeveloped country and bring in sub-par materials.”

  “That seems to be what Brent was planning.”

  My father’s eyes widen, and he places his hand over his chest. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I found proposals in your office. He was at least considering moving manufacturing overseas.”

  “Goddammit,” Dad grumbles. “This fucking stroke has ruined everything. And I’ve been lingering in this sick bed for too long. I’ve got to get down there, got to…got to…”

  “You’ve got to rest, Dad. I’ll watch over you, make sure they stop pumping you full of pills designed to fuck you up, but you’re not ready to go down there, not now. Be patient, get your strength back. You don’t want the media to see you in this shape. No one will have confidence in your leadership until you’re back to your old self.”

  “I can’t just let everything slip through my fingers.” He moans. At that moment I realize I’m more like my father than I want to admit.

  He’s impatient, prone to kneejerk reactions. And he’s acting just like I’ve been acting with Sabrina. Pushing for some kind of resolution when she clearly needs her space. We both need time to adjust, and shoving our situation in her face over and over isn’t going to get me anywhere.

  I need to give her time, give her space. Give her a chance to forgive me.

  “How did it happen, son? One minute, I’m running a billion-dollar empire, and the next I’m stuck in my bed, lucky not to piss myself before I make it to the bathroom. If I make it to the bathroom. One minute, you’re you, and the next, a shadow of your former self.”

  “Not a shadow, not forever. We’re going to get you well, Dad, I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, son. Not to me, and not to anyone else. The world has a way of making us eat our words.”

  I don’t like the dark turn of his mood. “You have to have hope that things can change. No matter how badly you fuck them up.”

  If I don’t have hope, then I might as well give up now and let Sabrina leave. But I can’t. She’s a part of me, and so is my daughter. I’ll never let them go. So it’s up to me to prove that I’m worthy of keeping them.

  50

  Sabrina

  “Can you believe the scene outside?”

  Leigh’s heels are as high as ever, this time with little ribbons that wrap around her legs to mid-calf and then tie off into twin bows. “It’s even worse over at the main office.”

  Birch and Luke are still at the window. Neither says anything, and Leigh shakes her head and heads toward my desk. “Ax said I would find you guys here, but I couldn’t understand why. The shit that’s going on with the company is basically like a free vacation. Why come into the office?”

  “Because the alternative is sitting around the Craven mansion and twiddling my thumbs. Even you’ve admitted how boring that can be.”

  “Touché.” Leigh giggles, running her manicured fingers through Lex’s hair. “What about you? You enjoying a day at the office.”

  Lex shrugs. She pushes over the pad I gave her to show Leigh her doodles. Leigh grabs the pad and chuckles. “What is this, the War for NumberLand?”

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you at the foundation today,” I say, trying to figure out what the heck she’s doing here.

  “I like to keep people on their toes,” she replies lightly. “Actually, I came down here to find you, after I discovered I’d missed you back at home.”

  My eyes widen. Things get complicated when Leigh pays attention to you. “Can I help you with something?”

  “As a matter of fact, you can.” Leigh lifts Lex out of her seat and sits in the chair herself, pulling my daughter back down into her lap. “And this little lady can help you.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  Leigh fixes me with a stare. “You know I’ve been considering how to contribute to the foundation, and I think I’ve figured out a way. In fact, your story has inspired me. The Craven Foundation has a new initiative, and to kick it off, we’re going to have a giant, star-studded fundraiser. And I want you to help me plan it.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity.” I did. It will be just the distraction I need to get over this shit with Ax. “But how are you going to attract the stars to Cape Craven?”

  Leigh laughs. “Sabrina, girl, you are hilarious.” She pokes Lex’s tummy, and my daughter laughs along. “Stars and VIPs won’t set foot in a town like this. We’ve got to go to them, of course.”

  “Go to them?”

  “Yes. We’ll have the fundraiser in Boston. That way I can make the best use of my contacts to ensure a successful event.” She taps Lex on the nose. “How about that? You want to go to Boston?”

  “Yeah! Where’s Boston?”

  Leigh laughs. “It’s north.” She winks at me. “Well, guess what? I got you and your Mom some tickets. Your flight leaves tonight.”

  “What?” My mouth drops open.

  “This thing needs to happen fast if we’re going to capitalize on all this press.”

  I
shake my head in confusion. “But the press is all negative. The company’s in trouble.”

  “Which is precisely why we need some good PR right now. We can shift the conversation, take some of the heat off the board.”

  I can’t decide if that sounds like a good idea or a bad one. I’m still stuck on the tickets for a flight that leaves tonight. “But I’ve never been to Boston.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve already made reservations at my favorite hotel downtown. I’ll send you some possible venues to visit along with a list of requirements. All you need to do is check them out and then book the best one.”

  “I’m usually the one who does the reports. Maybe Ms. Birch would be better suited to—”

  Birch turns from the window, her eyes wide. Before she can respond to the suggestion, Leigh waves it off. “That old bird can’t even find a decent pair of shoes. There’s no way I’m letting her pick a venue for my fundraiser.”

  Birch’s head drops, and she wanders back to her desk. I feel sorry for her. Sure, she’s always been a bit of a bitch, but no one deserves to be treated the way Leigh treats her.

  The younger woman slides Lex off her lap and stands. “I’ve got a car scheduled to pick you up in a couple hours and take you straight to the airport.”

  “First I need to go home and pack.”

  “No need,” Leigh replies. “Tell me where the car is, and I’ll send a tow truck out to have your car dragged out of the woods. I snatched the keys from your room already, I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, that’s fine. We need to get some clothes,” I respond breathlessly. I feel like a whirlwind has hit the office. How could I have expected a surprise trip to Boston? Then again, maybe this trip is just what we need. And then I remember Ax.

  “We can deal with that too,” she confirms.

  “There’s no way Ax is going to go for this.”

  Leigh cocks a perfectly arched brow at me. “Ah yes. My stepson can be a bossy son-of-a-gun, can’t he?

  “He’s worried about us, after what happened.” Does it sound like I’m defending him? Am I defending him?

  “And he has every right to be, but that’s why you’re going to Boston. You’re going to take charge of your life and help others take charge of theirs.”

  Leigh can talk a big game, but she doesn’t understand the way Ax obsesses over things. “I don’t think he’s going to see it your way.”

  “So what?”

  “So he’ll—” How did I admit to my pseudo-boss that her stepson would come to Boston to chew me out and drag me back? “He’ll distract me from our efforts.”

  “Right,” she says, and I can see she’s annoyed. Leigh doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy being told ‘no.’ “How about this? His main problem is needing to make sure you’re safe, right? Well, doesn’t getting you out of town mean you’ll be safer?”

  I shrug. It’s a weak argument.

  “Fine. Then you take this one with you.” Leigh gestures to Luke. He turns away from the window to stare at her. “He’s your bodyguard, right? He’ll keep you safe.”

  “Leigh,” I start, keeping my tone gentle. “Maybe it would be best if someone else—”

  “I disagree. You’ll leave for Boston tonight, and you’ll take Beefcake Bodyguard with you.” She picks up her bag and heads for the door. When she turns back, she’s all smiles. “Trust me, you need this trip. I’ll deal with Ax.”

  She pushes the door open wide and is immediately besieged by the press. Luke moves behind her to shut the door, then returns to the window. I can’t help myself. I join him there.

  “Hold your horses, now,” Leigh says with an affected southern drawl. “I’ll answer all your questions if you just give me a second to catch my breath.”

  “You’re Leigh Craven, aren’t you?” one of the reporters asks.

  “Guilty as charged,” she says, holding up her hands and laughing.

  A dozen voices yell at her simultaneously.

  “Do you have any comment on the situation at Craven Industries?”

  “Have you spoken to your stepson Brent?”

  “Are you worried about your financial prospects now that shares of your husband’s company are trading for pennies on the dollar?”

  Leigh ignores the questions shouted at her, unzips her handbag, pulls out a compact and a tube of lip gloss. As if she has all the time in the world, she applies a layer of gloss to her lips, making sure they’re perfect in the compact mirror.

  “Now, let’s talk about what’s on my mind. And before you ask, it’s not about share prices or about wayward stepsons. It’s about making a difference in this world. It’s about helping those in need. It’s about the Craven Foundation’s new initiative to stop human trafficking!”

  My mouth drops open. Human trafficking?

  “A very dear friend of mine was recently kidnapped, and had it not been for the Craven family, she and her daughter might have been sold off to traffickers and doomed to a life of misery. Her story has inspired me to do something about unfortunates like her. We will raise money to fund projects that prevent trafficking and rescue those whose lives have been stolen.”

  “Mrs. Craven, did you say that the Craven family intervened in a kidnapping? Could you tell us more about that, please?”

  “Happily. But not here. You’ll have to buy a ticket to my fundraiser in Boston to hear the whole sordid tale.”

  Journalists shout questions, but Leigh ignores them, thanking them for their time. She signals to the men in suits who stand outside her limousine, and they come forward to escort her through the crowd. And then she’s gone, leaving a group of confused individuals in her wake.

  “Now what?” Lex says, looking up at me with wide eyes.

  “Now we head to Boston,” Luke says with a frown.

  “Just wait until Ax hears about this,” I murmur to him, under my breath.

  “Leigh feels pretty confident that she can handle it.”

  “I don’t know anyone who can handle Ax.”

  “So, what do you want to do? We can ditch the flight, head back to the mansion.”

  And risk pissing off my boss. The first Craven in years to give a shit about the foundation and my position in it.

  Either way I move, one of the Cravens is going to be upset.

  I cover my daughter’s ears. “Fuck it. Let’s go to Boston.”

  Luke gives me a smile. “All right, then.”

  A couple hours later, the limousine is back, but this time it’s come for us. “All ready to go?” I ask my daughter. Lex nods and claps her hands. She’s never left the state before. A trip to Boston is maybe the most exciting thing to happen to her since Christmastime.

  Before I can head for the door, my eyes land on Ms. Birch. She’s still hunched over her desk, and I think I hear a sniffle from her direction. I can’t leave things like that.

  “Ms. Birch, you’ve always been the rock this office is built upon. I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving this place in anyone else’s hands.”

  She stiffens, then turns to pin me with her beady eyes. “Don’t condescend to me, Sabrina Jacobs. Just because you’ve been sucking up to that family, trying to make them accept that bastard child of yours, you get to take the only business trip this office ever had. I’ve worked here practically my entire life. I’m the one who should be going, and you know it!”

  Of course. Like everything else in my life lately, this conversation has backfired. Holding back a smart retort, I put my arm around my daughter and lead her out of the building.

  The journalists yell their questions at us, but I say nothing, letting Luke push a way through for us. Then we’re in the car, safely ensconced.

  Lex is over the moon at being in a limo. Just wait until we get to the airport, I think. I have to admit in that moment to being just as excited as she was. A spontaneous trip to a city I’ve never been to before. Not like I’ve been many places. Boston sounds as exotic as Timbuktu.

  I can barely contain my dau
ghter when we get to the airport. She’s taking in all the sights, pointing out the airplanes on the tarmac. When we board the plane, she digs through the seatback in front of her, paging through all the magazines before we even start to taxi.

  Luke has a seat several rows back. I’d used the corporate credit card Leigh provided to book him a last minute ticket. It cost more than a month’s mortgage payment on my mom’s house. No wonder I haven’t been able to afford a vacation in years.

  Lex gets nervous when we start to take off, but before long she’s giggling at the in-flight movie. The flight isn’t long, but it’s already dark when we finally land in Boston. Luke signals a taxi, and we ride to the hotel, Lex’s little head resting on my shoulder as she drifts in and out of sleep.

  I shake her awake as we pull up in front of a massive hotel, a red awning stretching past the columns that hug the entrance. Once inside, I hold my breath. The lobby is downright opulent. Elegant carpets cover marble floors, with ornate golden ceilings and stately columns gilded with gold vines.

  “This place is insane,” Lex murmurs reverently. “I didn’t know places like this even exist.”

  “Neither did I,” Luke says, his voice equally awed.

  Taking a deep breath, I charge forward toward the main desk. I refuse to be intimidated by my surroundings. I’m a woman with a job to do, and I’m going to do it well.

  I give my name to the woman behind the desk, and she announces that we’ve been booked into the presidential suite. My eyes widen, but I try not to show any surprise. I want people to think we belong here, even though I feel like the world’s biggest imposter.

  She summons a bellhop to take our bags and show us to the suite. We ride up on the elevator in silence, and I assume all three of us are afraid of saying something to show our ignorance. The friendly bellhop shows us into a suite that looks like something out of a magazine spread.

  Everything is so tasteful, so elegant, that I’m afraid to even touch the furniture. How did we end up here, after all that’s happened this week?