CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Baja—

We pull up at my father's company, backing our four bikes to the curb in front, taking up the handicapped spots. Wouldn't matter. My father doesn't hire handicapped people, because he's an asshole.

Rock stands from his bike and stares at the building. "Impressive."

"Not so much. I can't tell you the number of people he stabbed in the back to get where he is." Glancing around, I spot Elaina's car, and my heart sinks.

She went back to him. It's like a gut punch.

Rock follows my eyes. "That Elaina's?"

I nod, my throat too tight to speak.

His hand lands on my shoulder. "Doesn't mean what you're thinkin', brother. Could be another explanation. And if there's not, then it still doesn't mean this trip was a waste."

He's right. I can still crack some heads. I stalk up the walk to the glass entry, my brothers at my back.

We're dressed in head-to-toe leather; our cuts clear as day. Not exactly the usual type of clientele the receptionist sees.

The girl behind the desk looks up, and her eyes widen, then she hangs up on whomever she was speaking.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"My father is Bill Whitmore. I'm his son, Dylan. Where's his office?"

She hesitates, and it's obvious she doesn't want to tell me.

I lean on the counter and give her my best smile. "What's your name, darlin'?"

"Autumn."

"Autumn," I repeat. "That's a real pretty name. Where's my father's office?"

"You're really Mr. Whitmore's son?"

"I was my brother's best man. Were you at Elliott's wedding?"

Her eyes suddenly widen, and she points at me. "That's where I've seen you. Boy, that was a disaster, wasn't it?"

"Sure was." I wink. "What floor? I'm guessing the top?"

"Suite 400."

"Thanks, doll." I lead the way to the elevator, and it opens just as we get to it. Two men in suits step out, each giving us a strange look. We get in and ride up.

"What's the plan?" Rock asks me.

"I'm gonna tell my father off, then I'm gonna beat the shit out of my brother."

"And Elaina?"

"First things first," I mumble as the doors slide open. There's a fancy reception lobby in front of us. To the right, a woman sits at a desk in front of an elaborate door.

Bingo .

I stalk right past her.

"Excuse me, sir. You can't go in there. Sir!"

Flinging the door wide, I find my father behind a desk; the floor to ceiling windows behind him showcase an amazing view of the Front Range.

He leans in his chair and hangs up his phone, shocked at my entrance, and shocked, too, I'm sure, at the fact I'm wearing an MC vest and accompanied by three of my brothers.

"What the hell are you doing here? And what the hell are you wearing?" my father snaps.

"I came to see you, Dad. How's your day going?"

His gaze takes me in from head to toe. "So, it's true. You really are in a biker gang. I thought Elliott was exaggerating." He points at the door. "Get the hell out."

I grin. "I'll go when I'm good and ready. Where's Elliott?"

"In his office, I'm sure. Why? Come to fuck up his life some more?"

I yank the phone off the receiver and hold it out to him. "Get him up here."

"The only person I'm calling is the police." He grabs the phone out of my hand.

Rock leans his knuckles on the desk and gets right in my father's face. "You won't report a fucking thing, ol' man, because if you do, you're dead. I'll throw you out that goddamn window, and I don't give a goddamn whose father you are. We clear?"

My father stares at Rock, frozen in place. I'm sure he's never been spoken to like this in his entire life. But then, he's never met a man like our president before.

Rock's chin pulls to the side. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"We're clear," my father grits out, getting to his feet.

Rock shoves his chest. "Sit down."

My father plops into his chair.

The intercom on the desk buzzes.

"Mr. Whitmore? Mr. Whitmore, is everything all right? Do you want me to call 911?"

"Tell her it's fine," I snap.

"It's fine, Wendy. Could you have Elliott come here, please?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good answer," Rock says, then walks over to a credenza and checks out the bar. He lifts a bottle and whistles. "Thirty-year-old Scotch. I'm impressed."

He passes the bottle to me. "Here you go, kid."

I twist the cap and drink straight from the bottle, watching my father's look of horror and fury. "You have no damn manners. Why am I not surprised?"

I sit on the edge of his desk. "So, has Elliott lived up to all your plans for him? Marriage? Taking over the family business? A corner office all his own?"

My father's chin lifts. "Elliott has proven less than ideal. Since Elaina abandoned him, he's been unable to keep an executive assistant." He eyes me up and down. "Perhaps I misjudged you, Dylan. Perhaps you're more like me than I thought. There's a merger I've been working on. Perhaps someone like you has the skills to pull it off—skills your brother doesn't seem to have. Elliott's done nothing but screw it up."

I laugh so hard my eyes water. "Maybe if you had disciplined him, Elliott wouldn't be the asshole he is. Now that he's fucked it up for you, you're stuck." I shrug. "He runs the business into the ground, why should I care?"

"Don't you even care about the family business? Not even for your mother's sake?"

"You get what you sow, Dad. And if you drag Mom down with you, that's on you."

He studies me with newfound respect. "Look, Dylan, I may have been too hasty in judging you. I think we can help each other."

"Fuck you. I wouldn't help you if my life depended on it. And as for Mom? I'm done with all of you."

Elliott walks through the door and comes to a dead stop. His eyes find me. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I stalk to him and cold cock him in the mouth. He stumbles against the door, but I keep coming, pummeling him with hit after hit, some to his face, some to his gut, until he drops to his knees, blood running from his broken nose and busted jaw. Two teeth lay on the floor.

"That's for Elaina, you son-of-a-bitch." I whirl on my father. "Oh, and by the way, that grandchild you've been wanting? He'll come from me. I'll give him to you next summer. But you and the vileness you spew will never get near him."

Rock stalks to Elliott, grabs his tie, and hauls him to his feet, getting right in his face. "You call the cops about this or try to file charges; your father won't find enough of you to bury. Understand?" He shakes him for good measure.

"Yes, s-sir." My gutless brother, unless he's terrorizing someone weaker than he is, is a coward.

Rock drops him to the ground and kicks him in the gut, then looks at me. "Come on, brother. You've got one more stop to make."

We stalk into the reception area.

"Where's my brother's office?" I ask my father's assistant, who is staring in horror through the open door at my brother lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from his mouth and nose.

She points down a hall across on the other side of the building. "405."

The four of us troop down the corridor. When we get to the end of the hall, Elaina is standing at a desk outside the office, putting things in a cardboard box. She turns when she hears us, and two other women stand near her. They appear to be friendly co-workers. One has a hand on her shoulder. All eyes widen when they see us.

Elaina actually looks stricken. "What are you doing here?"

"Had a message to deliver to my father and brother."

Her eyes widen, and she glances behind us. "What did you do?"

Her voice is barely a whisper, and I turn and see my father marching down the hall.

"Elaina, is this the kind of life you gave up Elliott for? Bikers?" he sneers.

I whirl on him. "Shut your fucking mouth."

He comes to a halt.

I turn back to Elaina. "Look, I don't know what made you run, but you don't have to go back to my brother."

She lifts her chin. "It was all just payback, wasn't it?"

My chin pulls to the side. "What was payback?"

"All of it. You went to your brother's wedding intending to ruin it, didn't you?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Did you? Yes, or no?"

I shift on my feet. "I'd joked about it with the guys, yeah. But the moment I saw you walking down the aisle, I knew I'd never do anything to ruin your day. That plan went out the window the moment I lay eyes on you. I knew there was no way I could ruin this beautiful, sweet girl's big day. You really think that's what I did? You think I put Elliott up to smashing your face in the cake?"

She shrugs. "You tell me."

"Who told you this?" My chin lifts at the sudden realization. "Ah, of course. Desiree. I heard you ran into her at the clubhouse."

"Oh, you mean when I caught her in the hallway with you, running her hands up your chest like you were all hers?"

"That's not what that was. She tried to come on to me, but I wanted nothing to do with her."

"She said you went to the Cherry Bomb. She said you paid for a private room with her, and she made sure you got your money's worth."

"That never happened, Elaina. She's jerking your chain, because she's a bitch."

"You kissed her. I saw it." She shakes her head. "No thanks. I want a man I can trust, not one I have to worry about sneaking around behind my back anytime we're not together."

"I didn't kiss her. She kissed me on the cheek, and I shoved her off me. That was it."

"What was she doing there?"

"She couldn't work because of what you did. Rock said I needed to make it right."

She looks past me to my president.

He holds his hands up. "Sorry, honey. I felt bad for her, and if a brother has a woman up at the clubhouse, he's responsible for her actions. I felt it only right he should give her enough money to survive on in the meantime. She's got two kids to support."

"Great. Now I feel like a bitch," Elaina says, her shoulders slumping.

I can't help my grin. "If it makes you feel any better, I was proud as hell you put up a fight for me, babe."

"And you should have seen what he did to Elliott for you," Trez says.

She cocks her head. "What do you mean?"

"He beat the shit out of him." Rock jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "He's curled up on the carpet in his father's office like a little bitch."

"I can't believe you came back to work for him," I bite, cutting to the chase. I don't give a damn about my brother. I only care about Elaina.

"I didn't come back to work for him."

My gaze snaps to the cardboard box.

She rolls her eyes. "I came to clear out my stuff and pick up my last check."

"So, you didn't run to him?"

"Why would I do that?"

"I just thought—"

She lifts a brow, as if she's doubting I did any thinking at all.

"Look, Elaina. I'm sorry for giving you any reason to think I was involved with Desiree. She means nothing to me. You… you're everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. I want to give you everything you want, Elaina. I want to be the father of those children you want."

Her hand drops to her stomach. "Yes, well… about that. I've got a feeling we may have a head start on that."

My mouth falls open. "Are you serious right now?"

She nods, and her eyes flood.

I close the two steps between us and take her face in my hands. Tears spill over her lower lashes, and I wipe them away with my thumbs. "Aren't you happy?"

"I'm happy. If you love me."

"Babe." I grin—a big goofy grin I can't hide for anything. "I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love a person. I can't imagine spending another day without you. This morning, with you out of my life, I thought I had nothing to live for. Guess what I'm trying to say is I need you, Elaina. You're it for me. So, if you're not coming back to Durango with me, I might as well eat a bullet right here."

She slams into me, her arms wrapping tight, and her lips pressing to mine.

I hear my brothers cheer and clap behind me.

"Yes," Trez shouts.

Every woman in the office applauds.

"Shut up, all of you, or you're fired," my father snaps.

"Don't bother, asshole. I quit," one of the women says.

"Me, too," another adds.

"Yeah, fuck this place," another says.

Elaina giggles. "I think we started a mutiny."

"Good." I hold out my hand. "Let's go home."

Elaina slips her palm in mine. "Home. That sounds wonderful."