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Authors: Eve Langlais

BOOK: Croc's Return
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“No, I’m honest.”

A bitter laugh erupted as she latched onto the word. “Honest? Really? That’s priceless coming from you. Honesty from the man who ditched me with a text message and even now won’t tell me why. Was it something I did?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course not.”

“Were you in love with someone else?”

“Never!” The word burst from him with force.

“Then tell me why you left.”

“I can’t.”

She exploded. “You are unbelievable. And not just with me. Everyone. Your family. Your friends.”

He clamped his lips.

“Why won’t you even try and defend yourself?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I did. You wouldn’t believe it, and I won’t use it as an excuse. I treated you bad. I treated a lot of people bad, and I guess now I need to see if I can make amends.”

The pieces clicked into place. “Oh, I get it now, this whole stalk Renny thing is about you trying to assuage yourself of your guilt. Dumped Renny, let’s apologize and make it all better. Because it’s so simple.” As if words could heal what he’d done. But, if he thought she forgave him, would he leave her alone? “You know what, on second thought, I accept your apology. I forgive you for running off like a coward. You can cross me off your to-do list.”
And get out of my life.

“An apology isn’t enough. I want to help you. You shouldn’t be working at the Itty Bitty. You’re better than that.”

She arched a brow. “Too good for a paycheck? I gotta pay my bills like everyone else, Caleb. Some of us have responsibilities.”

A frown drew his brows together. “So I hear. But you shouldn’t shoulder the burden alone. Maybe you should force a certain asshole father to give you some help so you don’t have to degrade yourself working in a place like this.” Caleb swept his hand at the bar behind him.

“My dad died, and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have raised a finger to help me, not after the baby.” A Bible-thumping fellow, Dad had stopped talking to her, and even on his deathbed from a vicious fever he’d caught in the bayou, he turned his head away when she went to say her goodbyes.

“I wasn’t talking about your dad. I was talking about your baby’s father. It takes two to make a kid.”

Her gaze narrowed. Hold on a second… “What about Luke’s father?”

“Way I hear it, the deadbeat skipped out on you and the child.”

“He did.” Was he pulling her leg?

“That’s not right,” Caleb growled.

“No. It isn’t.” Incredulity built in her. Surely she was wrong.

“You should force him to take responsibility for his actions.”

“You really think so?”

He nodded. “Make the asshole pay.”

Sweet baby corn, he really didn’t know. “Well, I’m glad you think so, Caleb, because given you ignored the letters I sent you, I kind of figured you had washed your hands of us.”

He went still and turned pale. “What are you talking about? What was in those letters?”

“First, let me ask you, did you get them?” Judging by the panicked look in his eyes, he had. “Did you even open them?” He didn’t have to answer for her to guess. A bitter laugh erupted. “Nope. You didn’t bother, did you? Just chucked them in the trash, just like you did me and your son.”

Nope, he didn’t know, and she wondered if he’d remember seeing as how he hit the ground pretty hard. She didn’t stick around to find out.

Chapter Five

Your son.

The words echoed long after the last rumble of her car died off. Caleb lay on the ground as if frozen. And perhaps he was. He certainly didn’t feel anything through the numb shield of his shock.

We have a child together.

No, not together. Renny had the child alone. All alone without anyone to rely on. Without telling a soul, not even his brother or mother because she thought he didn’t want it.

Thought he didn’t want her.

“Awwwww!” His yell echoed in the sky, and yet it did nothing to ease the bursting tension in him. His beast throbbed below the surface. Drawn by the rage. Fighting for control.

No.

No!

He had to keep his inner self caged.

But I have a son!

A son he was kept from by secrets and deals and a past he couldn’t escape.

Except hadn’t he escaped?

Caleb had retired from the military unit that had used him. He had escaped his servitude under the crooked rhino sergeant who drew him and others into acts of evil. A certain viperous enemy no longer controlled him.

Caleb couldn’t help but touch the scar on his cheek. The price of slipping the naga’s mesmerizing leash. Escaping the life he’d never wanted had left its mark, but he welcomed it. That scar signified his freedom, but it also reminded him of how it got there.

As if his nightmares would ever let him forget.

A shadow blocked the wan quarter moon struggling to shine in the sky. A blocky figure stood over him. Red slitted eyes flashed. A gator. Big one, too.
Wonder if he’s another one of Wes’s cousins?
The Mercers bred like bunnies on fertility drugs, popping kids out all over the place.

“There’s no parking or sleeping in the lot overnight,” the behemoth said.

“I seem to have lost my ride.”

Luckily for him, Bruno wasn’t a bad sort—even if he was a damned Mercer. He let Caleb borrow his phone, and that was why, less than twenty minutes later, his brother, glowering behind the wheel of his truck, pulled into the empty lot of the club.

Lowering his window, Constantine snapped, “Get in.”

To Caleb’s surprise, his brother leaned over and opened the passenger door.

“Holy shit, I get to ride in the truck.”

His brother didn’t crack a smile. “Only because Princess is sleeping in my jacket.”

“Thank God because I was wondering what that bulge was in your lap.”

His brother didn’t say a word as he drove, but Caleb, for some reason, felt a need to spill. “So it turns out I’ve got a kid.”

The truck swerved. “What?”

“His name is Luke. He’s mine and Renny’s.”

The sudden forward momentum meant Caleb braced himself on the dash as the truck slammed to a stop.

“Get out of the truck,” his brother ordered.

“Why would I do that?” Caleb asked.

“Why? Do you seriously have to ask? You know, I can handle the fact that you ditched me and Ma. I get it. I was almost eighteen. It wasn’t like I needed you around. But to leave Renny and your kid?” Constantine banged his hands off his steering wheel. “I don’t fucking know who you are. But you are not my brother. The brother I knew would never have abandoned his kid.” Constantine shoved at him, and it was only the fact that the door was shut that Caleb didn’t end up sprawled on the gravelly shoulder. As it was, Con’s blow to his arm rocked the truck.

“Before you fucking hang me out to dry, I didn’t know.”

His brother’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean you didn’t know? Didn’t she tell you?”

Looking his brother in the eye as he admitted his fault proved impossible. “She tried to let me know. She sent letters. I just never read them.”

“Just like you never read our letters, wrote back, or called us. You are such a fucking dick. Get out.”

Couldn’t argue that point. When Caleb would have opened the door, his brother growled, “Close the goddamned door.” Constantine threw the truck into gear and, with a spin of the tires on the loose rock, drove them back onto the road. They drove for about a mile in silence before his brother said, “So I’m an uncle. To Luke.”

“You’ve met him?” Caleb asked, suddenly thirsty to know more about his son.

“More like seen him. Once you left, Renny did for a while, too. I guess so that people wouldn’t know she was pregnant.”

“Kind of hard to hide, given she came back with a kid.”

“Except she didn’t come back right away. She’s only been back in town about six months or so. I guess she felt like she had to on account of her dad. He caught some kind of disease or something, and she returned to care for him.”

“Renny never told anyone he was mine?”

“No.”

He couldn’t help a pang at the knowledge she didn’t want people to know Luke was his son.

But I can’t really blame her, given she thought I didn’t want him.

His brother slammed the wheel of his truck. “Dammit, I can’t believe Renny never told me or Ma the baby was yours. We would have helped her if we’d known.”

“As would I.” Caleb slumped in his seat. “I’ve so royally fucked up my life.”

“Yeah, you have.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You didn’t coddle me growing up, and I am not going to coddle you. You made mistakes. Suck it up, buttercup.”

“You do realize I am supposed to be the older brother?”

“Then act like one. Or at least stop with this fucking woe-is-me routine. Now that the truth is out, you can be a father to a little boy.”

A father…

A wave of vertigo gripped Caleb, and he grasped the console of the truck, lest he face plant into it. “Shit, Con, I can’t be a dad. I don’t know how. Look at me. I’m a bloody mess.”

“You’re just like every other soldier who’s come home after seeing and experiencing bad stuff. You need time to adjust. You’re going to have to learn to adapt. And you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and accept that shit has happened. Move on, bro. Start anew.”

“But I don’t know how.” Even admitting the weakness made him want to cringe. His croc certainly thrashed in its hidden box, rolling and rolling, ashamed that he feared the fight.

“None of us do, which is why we wing it and we make mistakes. That’s life, and she’s a bitch.” An assertion punctuated by a tiny growl within Constantine’s coat.

“Easy to say, but what should I do?” For the first time in years, Caleb didn’t have clear orders. He had to make the decisions. What if he made the wrong ones?

“First off, ask yourself what you want to achieve.”

“What do you mean?”

Constantine took his gaze off the road for a minute to fix him with a stare. “What do you want to happen here? Set yourself a goal.”

“You mean I should establish a mission objective.”

“Wow, the military really did brainwash you. Okay, grunt”—Con flashed him a smile— “here’s your mission. Assimilate into life at Bitten Point. Within that scope, you are to become involved with your son.”

“If Renny lets me.” Which was doubtful at the moment.

“Which brings me to the grovel-to-Renny-in-apology aspect. Add in to that make amends to Mother.”

“And irritate my little brother.” Caleb couldn’t help but toss that one in and then laughed at the mock punch thrown by Constantine.

 

With Con’s help in coming up with a clear mission, it occurred to Caleb that he needed allies, and that was why he found himself on Melanie’s porch—in cookie-cutter suburbia where his borrowed pickup truck covered in mud looked like it belonged to a gardener not a visitor.

But at least he looked somewhat respectable. He’d managed a comatose night of sleep with the help of pills and had enjoyed a hearty breakfast cooked by his mother before she went off to work.

When Constantine had a buddy from work grab him on his way, leaving Caleb with some wheels, he had no excuse. Time to work on completing the first part of his mission.

Taking a deep breath, telling the nervous butterflies in his tummy to fuck off, Caleb knocked on the front door.

A short and dark-haired woman flung open the portal with gusto and a hollered, “Don’t you dare get dirty. We are leaving for the picnic in a minute.” Orders given, Melanie turned to face Caleb and uttered an eloquent, “Oh.”

“Hey, brat face.” The old nickname came easily.

Still unable to find words, Melanie showed him her happiness at seeing him again by throwing her arms around him in a big hug.

“Good grief, are you sure you’re not part anaconda?” he joked as she bound him tight.

“No one’s too sure what great-great grandpa was, so you never know. But you didn’t come here to hash out my ancestral lines, and since I know you already caught up with Daryl,”—Melanie drew herself out of his arms and peered up at him—“that means there’s only one reason why you’re here. Renny.” Melanie hauled off and slugged him in the gut.

It didn’t hurt, but it still made him exclaim, “What the hell? What happened to I’m glad to see you?”

“I am, but you also broke my best friend’s heart. Do you know how hard she’s had to struggle because you’re an asshat?”

A cringe pulled his features taut. “I swear I didn’t know about the baby. I just found out last night.”

“Like fu—udge,” Melanie said, stuttering her reply as a commotion at her feet drew her attention.

A pair of tousle-haired, dark-eyed boys stared up at him.

They didn’t blink. Or move.

A waft of chocolate rose from one of them. With a sly grin, the slightly smaller of the two licked a sticky finger, not that it helped the brown smear on his hand. The little tyke regarded the cocoa smear, and Melanie growled, “I thought I hid the chocolate syrup.”

“Found it,” announced the tyke with no small amount of pride.

“More like it found you,” she muttered. “Don’t you dare wipe it on your pants.”

The little guy listened to his mother and found something else to latch his sticky hand onto.

Caleb didn’t have time to move back because the child moved so fast. One minute, the kid looked like he would defy his mother, and the next, he flung his arms around Caleb’s legs, peeked up, and grinned. “Hi.”

“Holy sh—oot,” he said, curbing his language at the last second. “How do you resist the cuteness?”

“You don’t, which is why they’re spoiled monsters. Tatum, let go of Caleb’s leg.” Tatum required Melanie leaning forward to pry him loose, but the damage was done. Caleb’s jeans were smeared in chocolate. Melanie eyed the sticky spots. “Sorry about that. Terrible twos are nothing compared to the Terrifying threes.”

“So these are your boys?” Caleb didn’t wait for an answer to his obvious question. He crouched down and studied the faces.

Identical twins in all ways from the messy mop of hair to the solemn stares to the mischief pulling at their lips. If it weren’t for the fact that Tatum was slightly smaller than his brother, Caleb didn’t know how you’d tell them apart.

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