Page 63 of Born Daddy

“And you’re comfortable with it? Because I am, and actually, it feels unnatural not to call you Daddy.”

Rogan grinned. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

Tate grinned in return and let out a happy sigh as Rogan left him to get their drinks and an ice pack. Once he’d handed Tate his water, he sat down so the side that had been assaulted was opposite from Tate. Rogan fussed with his shirt to get the pack into place, then draped an arm around Tate’s shoulders and tugged him close.

“Phew,” he huffed. “Much better.” He snorted. “Other than the state of this apartment.” Tate tracked Rogan’s gaze as he glanced around the room. “This should be fun to clean up.” Rogan frowned. “Hmm. I think it might be time for a new coffee table.”

Tate took in the damage to the Early American, maple piece of furniture. Not only had one of the legs been knocked off, it was splintered down one side. Mitch must’ve stomped on it trying to get to him.

“Oh man.” Tate bit his lip. “That’s my fault.” He glanced up at Rogan. “I fell over it before you got here. I’ll get you a new one.”

Rogan grunted. “Not your fault, honey. We’re letting go of that notion, right? Neither of us made Mitch behave the way he did. He had the choice to be a decent human being and he chose to be a dick instead.” Rogan stroked his thumb across Tate’s shoulder. “I’ve actually been giving my friendship with him some thought over the past couple days, thinking back on times over the years where the signals were there, where he made derogatory comments couched as a joke. I now realize he wasn’t kidding.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Tate had never had close friendships, only acquaintances. He’d been shuffled around too much over the years to form bonds with anyone, so he’d remained separate to keep from becoming too attached. He’d only begun to let go, to allow himself to be vulnerable, when he’d gotten into the Daddy/boy scene. He wished he could truly understand how bad his Daddy felt about losing a longtime friend this way.

Rogan continued to stroke his thumb over Tate’s shoulder. “Yeah. Me too. That realization also made me start thinking about Cam. I viewed him through a different lens as well, brought back memories of his and Mitch’s relationship.” Rogan adjusted himself, fiddling with the ice pack as he did. “Drink some more water, Tate.”

Tate complied immediately, obeying his Daddy without a second thought. He waited anxiously to hear what else Rogan had to say.

“I remembered,” Rogan continued, “how much of a kick Mitch got out of Cam. You see, Cam was the prankster of our group, and Mitch would go along with whatever hijinks Cam instigated. Mitch was the crowd Cam was always playing to.” Rogan scratched his head. “I knew Cam had the hots for Mitch. Man, what a nightmare that would’ve been had Mitch known.”

“You don’t think maybe he did? Like, maybe he looked up to Cam so much, that he wondered what it would be like if they were together?”

Rogan grunted. “Wow. I dunno. Could be?” He shook his head. “I’m not going down that road with the guy.”

“Mitch was so angry. I mean, infuriated. That’s what he was yelling about, how he had to stop me from doing to you what I did to Cam. You know, that if I hadn’t been in Cam’s life, he never would’ve killed anyone.”

“That’s utter bullshit,” Rogan growled. “Because that was another thing I’d been thinking about when it came to Cam. He was…”

Tate glanced up at Rogan and noted the way his eyebrows were pinched together and low over his eyes, his lips pressed together as if in heavy concentration. At last, he spoke.

“Cam was like a puppet master. I’d never viewed him that way before. But so many moments in our years together came to mind.” Rogan angled himself so he was facing Tate some more and locked eyes with him. “You see, when I learned the truth about Cam, my investigator brain stirred to life. I’m not well-versed the way the FBI profilers and homicide detectives are in the early signs to look for in identifying a psychopath. But I know some of the basic stuff such as torturing animals as a kid, that kind of thing.

Rogan sucked in a breath, his demeanor more animated. “However, there were these other indicators I hadn’t paid attention to. Cam always had to be right. Had to be the one in charge if we were going anywhere or planning anything. If he wanted to go to an Italian restaurant but the three of us were more in the mood for Chinese, he’d pull out his arsenal of charm and reasoning until he’d won us over to his side and gotten what he wanted.” Rogan huffed. “And I bet you can guess who was always the first to capitulate.”

“Mitch.”

“Yeah.” Rogan nodded. “Mitch. And let me be clear. Cam never argued, demanded or got pissy. He merely reasoned. Smooth talked. Explained all the ways his viewpoint or idea was so much better. In the end, you’d feel like he’d done you a fucking favor.

Rogan shook his head, sighing. “Honestly? That’s a big part of the reason I stopped spending much time with him as we got older. Sure, I had a lot of job commitments, and there were periods in my career where I was gone for months. Despite that, I always managed to hang out with Mitch and Lenny. But I got sick of Cam manipulating me to get what he wanted—no matter how innocuous it was.”

Tate took in Rogan’s words, chewing them over as he ran through the files in his own mind. His experience with Cam hadn’t been the same at all.

Because I was such a good boy.

He swallowed past a lump in his throat. Did that make him weak? Could he be a good boy, but also have opinions about things?

“That’s why you’re a Daddy.” Tate realized his comment might seem abrupt to Rogan, who hadn’t been privy to Tate’s rambling thoughts. “I mean, one of the attributes of being a Daddy. You don’t want to be told what to do.”

“But I also don’t intend to bully or manipulate anyone, either.” Rogan cupped Tate’s cheek. “I hope you know that about us. I think I’ve been clear about my intentions already. If I haven’t, I’ll reiterate them now. I’m interested in you and what you want from life, Tate. Your obedience isn’t who you are to me.”

“I know…Daddy.” Tate cleared his throat. “I know you’d never bully me.”

Rogan gave him a soft smile. “That’s one of the first things Master Zane made sure I understood when it came to being a good Daddy.” Rogan idly trailed his fingers through Tate’s hair as he continued. “We talked about so much tonight. I’m gonna fuck up sometimes, Tate. But I’m dedicated to being the best Daddy I can for you. And one of the things we need to discuss—I’m not ordering you—is you staying here with me.” Rogan held his gaze. “All the time.”

Tate’s heart thundered. “You mean move in?”

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