Trouble in Sudden Falls: A Sudden Falls Romance (30 page)

A second punch in the head took him down as Darlene screamed. The punches and kicks bled one into the other. He had enough fights under his belt that he could normally defend himself… but not when the odds were stacked five to one.

Rogan curled up into a ball, trying to protect his head. This evening so wasn’t going the way he’d anticipated.

In the background he could hear someone pull the Meathead Gang off him and blessedly, the punching and kicking stopped. In a final insult, one of them poured his rum punch over Rogan’s head.

More yelling and the stern sound of Mrs. Scarpa’s voice dragging the jocks back into the gym.

He groaned, hurting too bad to even lift his head.

Someone kneeled next to him. “Mr. Lafayette, are you all right?” asked a woman’s voice with a very refined pronunciation. It took him about three seconds to identify the voice.
It figures.
Adding insult to injury, he discovered it was Mrs. Cannifarm kneeling next to him.

“Can you sit up?” she asked.

He tried, and gave up as pain lanced through him.

Darlene knelt on his other side. “Should I call an ambulance?” she asked.

“Give me a second,” he wheezed. “I got the wind knocked out of me.”

“Are you certain?” Mrs. Cannifarm asked, brushing Rogan’s hair out of his face.

This was a turn-around. Cannifarm being nice to
him
.

Darlene and Cannifarm helped him ease to a sitting position. He was going to hurt like hell tomorrow.

“Did you find Amy?” Rogan asked.

Darlene shook her head. “She never came in. I tried calling her cell, but she’s not answering.”

The whole night was a waste. He got the crap kicked out of him, got stood up, and had the humiliation of going back through the gym to look forward to.

Mrs. Scarpa came scurrying up as Rogan got to his feet. “What happened out here?” she asked, stepping forward to inspect his face. “I got a variety of answers from the crew in there.” She thumbed over her shoulder.

Darlene piped up. “Amy Goodman seems to be missing in action. We were looking for her out here and Shane Grundin made a really revolting comment and Rogan suggested he take it back.”

“Suggested?” Mrs. Scarpa asked with a raised eyebrow.

“More or less.”

“Then they jumped him,” Darlene said.

“Fortunately Mrs. Cannifarm supports your recounting of events. I’ve never seen her so mad. I think if you hadn’t knocked Shane into the wall,
she
might have done it herself.”

Rogan shook his head. The universe was clearly out of whack.

“Can you make it home, sugar?” Scarpa asked. “Or do you want me to call your dad?”

Rogan nodded, ignoring the sharp stab of pain that traced through the top of his head. “I can make it.”

Mrs. Scarpa studied his face for a long moment for looking into his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll walk him out to his car,” Darlene said.

“You don’t have to.”

Mrs. Scarpa pretended like she didn’t even hear him. “That’s a good idea, honey. If he so much as wobbles, bring him back and I’ll call his dad.”

“I’m
fine,
” Rogan insisted yet again. He realized it wouldn’t do any good to argue, so he let Scarpa lead him and Darlene around the outside of the building and through a locked gate—Thank God, ‘cause he hadn’t been looking forward to making it through the gym—and let Darlene guide him to his car. He opened the door and folded himself in, barely suppressing a groan as his ribs threatened to pierce his lung. He looked up at Darlene. “If you find Amy, tell her I didn’t blow her off, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find her and tell her to get in touch. I’m sorry this happened, Rogan.”

“It’s not your fault. You were trying to help. I shoulda known better than to take on someone with chopped meat for a brain.”

Darlene snickered. “I suddenly get why Amy’s so taken with you.” She shook her head which he took to mean she hadn’t really meant to say that. “That wasn’t a come on… only an observation.”

He might have grinned if his face weren’t rapidly swelling and didn’t hurt like hell. “Never thought it was.”

She pushed his door closed and waited until he pulled out before heading back to the gym under the watchful gaze of Mrs. Scarpa.

The short drive home nearly killed him. When he tried to pry himself out of the car, he accepted that he was probably hurt worse than he’d realized.

Eli stuck his head out of the door before Rogan made his way up the sidewalk. “You’re home earl—” He cut himself off. “What happened?”

Before Rogan could answer, he made his way into the porch light and Eli must have finally gotten a good look at him. He gasped. “Who did this to you?”

“It’s no big deal.”

Eli stepped in front of him, stopping his progress into the house. He sniffed. “You smell like a rum factory. Were you drinking?”

Rogan shook his head slowly. “No.”

When Eli sniffed again and raised an eyebrow, Rogan explained further. “I’m stone cold sober, I swear. The idiots who jumped me dumped their spiked Kool-aid on me.” Even to his own ears, his voice was starting to sound slurred.

“What do you mean, they
jumped
you?”

Rogan tried to explain, but the details were getting as fuzzy as his head.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Eli said.

“Nah. I’m fine.” Rogan felt the world tilt a bit to the left.

Eli caught him around the torso and Rogan’s ribs screamed in pain. Or maybe the scream came from his own throat.

“Yeah. Maybe that’s a good idea,” Rogan said right before the world went black.

Chapter Sixteen

“Maddie! Call 9-1-1!” Eli yelled, even as he lowered Rogan to lie on the porch.

Maddie rushed out with her cell in her hand. “What happened?” Her eyes went directly to Rogan. “Oh my God. Who did that to him?”

Before Eli could answer, she focused her attention on the phone. “Yes. We need an ambulance at 4024 Oakwood Avenue. Seventeen-year-old male with possible head injury.”

Eli’s gazed snapped down to Rogan. He hadn’t even considered how seriously Rogan could be hurt. He could see several rapidly darkening bruises on Rogan’s face. Stroking a hand over Rogan’s head, Eli searched for—and found—two goose eggs. One on the side above his ear and one at his crown. Fear clutched at Eli’s chest, restricting his breathing.

In a few minutes, the ambulance squealed to a halt in front of the house, sirens wailing, but even with all the racket, Rogan didn’t so much as stir. The EMTs jumped out, bringing a gurney loaded down with a medical bag and other equipment.

Eli told them what he knew.

They stabilized Rogan’s neck with a brace before loading him onto a back brace and then the gurney and strapping him down. Rogan looked so pale, so defenseless. This was what being a real parent was about. That fear that something could happen to your kid. Before now, Rogan had seemed more like a roommate—albeit a young one whom Eli was responsible for—rather than his actual son.

Eli dug his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Maddie. “I’m going to ride with Rogan. Follow in my car?”

Maddie squeezed his arm and nodded. “It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him.

There was no way Maddie could know that, but he was grateful for the support nonetheless.

Eli stayed out of the way as one of the EMTs started an IV and took Rogan’s vitals and the other drove like a madman toward the hospital. Thank God it was only a few minutes away.

The EMT asked Eli several questions about Rogan’s medical history and noted the information on a sheet. Sadly, Eli couldn’t answer much more than he knew Rogan wasn’t prone to epileptic seizures, wasn’t diabetic and had no other chronic conditions. He didn’t even know if he’d ever had any surgeries like having his tonsils out, for crying out loud.

Rogan started to regain consciousness as they pulled up. Eli grabbed for his hand, willing himself to focus on what he
did
know. He loved his kid. “It’s okay, buddy. We’re at the hospital.” Rogan’s face had seriously started to swell. His left eye was almost swollen shut and was a terrifying shade of dark purple. A mottled bruise darkened his jaw and his lip had split open.

The driver opened the back doors and the EMTs whisked Rogan into the hospital, leaving Eli to trail along. He tried to follow them through a set of double doors, but he was waylaid by a nurse dressed in blue scrubs and holding a clipboard. “Sir, can I get you to fill out this paperwork first?”

“I need to go back with my son,” he said, moving towards the door.

“It’s best if you stay out of the way. Let them work and get him stabilized. Someone will be out to talk with you shortly.”

Eli swallowed hard. They needed to
stabilize
him? His working knowledge of emergency rooms was limited to one set of stitches his junior year of college when he was working construction and what he’d seen on
Grey’s Anatomy
. On TV, it was
never
a good sign when a patient needed to be
stabilized
.

He let the nurse guide him over to the waiting area where he filled out the papers and watched the doors they’d taken Rogan through.

For a moment, he imagined life without Rogan in it. Pain speared his chest and he immediately concentrated on filling out the form in front of him.

Maddie rushed in while he was still trying to catch his breath.

“Is Rogan okay?” She sat next to him.

Eli nodded then looked back down at the form, fearing that if he met her eyes, he might lose it.
Blood type.
He had no idea what his son’s blood type was. What kind of parent didn’t know his own kid’s blood type?

Eli’s was O negative which was made the bloodmobile really happy whenever he showed up. It had been a couple of months since he’d donated blood. Maybe he should offer to donate for Rogan. He finished the last couple of questions on the clipboard. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Maddie.

He handed the clipboard back to the nurse.

“The doctor should be out to talk to you shortly.”

“Do you have any idea how he’s doing?” Eli asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“One second.” The nurse turned to the computer in front of her and filled in some information, referring back and forth to the clipboard he’d given her. Before she could answer, a forty-something woman in a long white coat stepped up, her brown hair in a haphazard knot at the back of her head.

“Mr. Lafayette? I’m Dr. Elyssa Stark.”

Eli shook his head. “It’s actually Redmond.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She moved toward the chairs.

With a hand on her sleeve, Eli stopped her in her tracks. “Rogan’s my son, though. How is he?”

“He’s going to be okay. He got worked over pretty good and we’re going to want to keep him overnight for observation—since he lost consciousness—but other than one heck of a black eye and some bruising on his ribs, he’s fine.”

For the first time since Rogan collapsed in his arms, Eli took breathed deeply. “Thank God. Can I see him?”

“Absolutely.”

Maddie came up to him and put her arm around his waist.

“He’s okay,” Eli said to her. He turned back to the doctor. “Does he need blood? I’m a universal donor.”

Dr. Stark looked down at the chart in her hands. “Rogan is adopted?”

“What? No.” Eli’s stomach lurched sickeningly. “Why?”

“Oh.” There was a lot of meaning in that
Oh.

Maddie’s arm squeezed tighter around his waist, which may have been the only thing that kept him upright.

The doctor paused uncomfortably.

“Please tell me,” he said, fearing he already knew what she would say.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but…” She looked back at the chart again. “Are you sure you’re O negative?”

Eli nodded.

“There’s very little chance that Rogan is your biological son. His blood type is AB positive.” Beside him, Maddie let out a sharp gasp filled with the very pain that engulfed Eli’s entire being.

“Very little?”

“Well, none, actually.” She smiled at him with a great deal of pity. “I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this.” She paused for a long moment. “Do you still want to see him now or do you need a moment? You could meet us upstairs.”

Eli shook his head. “I want to see him now.” How was he going to tell Rogan? The easy breath he’d had at finding out Rogan was okay, choked in his lungs again.

Maybe he shouldn’t tell him. Maddie would keep quiet if he swore her to secrecy. “Please don’t say anything about this to him,” Eli said.

Dr. Stark shook her head. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

What he wanted was definitive proof that the doctor had been wrong. However, Eli remembered enough from college biology to know that an O negative parent couldn’t father an AB positive child.

“Come back this way,” she said. “He’s in room 18.”

She slid a card attached to a lanyard around her neck in a swiper next to the double doors on the wall. The doors opened automatically and she pointed Eli and Maddie to Rogan’s room.

Before they reached room 18, Donna Goodman came out of a room marked with a 13 over the door. “How did you know we were here?” she asked.

“What?” Eli asked, confused.

“I should have called,” she said. “Amy’s diabetic. She was so excited today, she must not have been taking very good care of herself. Her blood sugar spiked and she went into shock. Your son is probably really upset. I’m so sorry I didn’t call.”

Eli didn’t entirely buy her apology, as much as she’d been against Rogan taking Amy to the dance. On the other hand, as he’d found out, having a sick kid in the hospital was terrifying. Maybe she really had forgotten. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is Amy okay?”

Donna nodded. “Yeah. They gave her some additional insulin. As soon as they get her sugar stabilized, we’ll be headed back home. Sadly, this isn’t the first time this has happened. Is Rogan here to see Amy?” She looked past Eli and Maddie.

Before Eli could answer, Maddie jumped in. “Rogan had a minor accident this evening.” She guided Eli toward room 18. “Tell Amy he’s okay. We’ll have him give her a call tomorrow.”