Till Death Do Us Part: A Paranormal Why Choose Romance (Vows Duet Book 1)

Chapter 51

78 Years Ago

The rundown pickup sputters as it rolls to a stop in front of our little house. Shack is probably a more accurate description of the home Ellie and I have—a far cry from the manor that I grew up in.

Even so, the sight of Ellie hurrying out the door to greet me, her eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement, makes every inconvenience of our poor lifestyle worth it. She jogs around to me with bare feet, bracing her swollen belly with her hands. The potato sack dress hanging off her frame is one of the few things that fit around her belly now, but she doesn’t look any less beautiful than if she were wearing fancy duds.

“Easy,” I scold her as she scrambles into my lap, not even giving me time to get out of the truck. “Be careful with our babies. You’ll catch a cold out here without shoes on or a coat.”

Yes, babies. We had gotten Ellie an examination about two months ago, just to check that she and the baby were healthy, only for the doctor to surprise us with the news that there were actually two babies in her belly. That was about the time that Ellie had to stop picking up housekeeping jobs because of how badly her back was hurting her to stoop and clean.

“They’re fine,” she replies, covering my face in kisses. “They’ve been kickin’ me all day.”

“I’m dirty, little Ellie,” I sigh, trying to shift her off my lap. I’m coated in grime and dirt from the job I got working construction after my parents disinherited me for marrying Ellie. “Let me clean up and then I’ll be all yours.”

She wraps herself around me, her belly pressing against my ribs hard. “No. Mine. My husband.”

I laugh. “Then come clean up with me, wife,” I suggest, waggling my eyebrows at her.

Ellie grins, but her attention wavers when we hear the smooth purr of the car Benny and Warren drive, struggling to make it down the rough road. She scrambles out of my truck to meet them as they park. The smile doesn’t leave my face as she crawls over them, just like she did me, greeting them with just as much enthusiasm. Jealousy doesn’t live here among the four of us.

While my parents disinherited me to save face with Pastor Cooper, Benny and Warren had experienced the opposite. Refusing to disown or disinherit the boys, Pastor Cooper had doubled down, insisting I was the one who was corrupt. We all knew it was because the pastor refuting his own sons would be a bad look.

I gladly took the blame, the disinheritance, and the marriage that was ‘forced’ upon me.

Benny and Warren stayed to keep access to their trust funds open. If they can hang onto them until their twentieth birthdays, they’ll be free and clear, and able to join us then. The only reason we’d been able to call the doctor out at all for Ellie was because the brothers had saved up the allowance they were given to pay for it.

Warren gives me a bear hug as he untangles himself from Ellie, leaving her and Benny to have a moment alone. Just like in the beginning, there is something that runs deeper about their connection that both Warren and I respect.

“How you doing, you stinky knucklehead?” he asks, slapping my back.

“Tired as hell,” I answer with a laugh. “You guys staying tonight?”

Warren pulls away with a shake of his head and solemn face. “No. We wanted to see Ells, but the pastor is starting to catch on that we’re not where we say we are going to be.”

Both boys have refused to call Pastor Cooper anything but ‘the pastor’ since the day they beat the shit out of him.

“Careful, he might just wash his hands of you yet,” I tease, but there’s a real warning there.

His face pinches. “If only,” he mutters.

“Come on!” Ellie calls to us, dragging Benny into our home by the hand.

Warren doesn’t need to be told twice, taking off a half-run to catch up. I take my time, grabbing my lunch pail and moseying in through the door. I try to ignore the aches in my shoulders as I tiredly trudge up the stairs. When I enter, I’m surprised I don’t find one of the Cooper brothers’ asses in my face, as is usually the case when we start stripping down.

It’s quiet, actually. Curious, I set my pail down in the kitchen and listen closely, picking up on the water running in the bathroom. As I walk through the house, I pause in the doorway of the bedroom, seeing Benny and Warren stretched out on our little bed.

Benny grins when he sees me lift a brow. “She’s waiting for you.”

My attention goes to the door that leads into our tiny bathroom. Honestly, we’re lucky to have any running water at all, but I refuse to look a gift horse in the mouth.

What I find when I peer in takes my breath away. Ellie perches on the side of the tub, using a hand to stir up the bath water, the scent letting me know she added those lavender bath salts Warren brought her last time he was here. Her missing dress allows me to see the fullness of her belly and the red streaky lines decorating it, made by how big and how fast our babies are getting inside of her.

When she stands, I realize she’s been watching me take her in.

“Come here,” she orders, crooking a finger.

I am nothing if not a dutiful husband, so I go to her, refraining from grabbing at her as she undresses me. Every article of clothing she removes is a tease, with fingertips that brush over exposed skin. Once I’m naked, she points to the bath she’s run.

“In.”

I obey, sinking into the hot water, and realize that she had planned this before I ever got home. We don’t have hot running water—just whatever temperature decides to come out of the well. Normally, I just bathe in the cool water without complaint. Ellie had to have boiled water ahead of time. She turns off the water as soon as I’m in.

Using a washcloth and a bar of soap, Ellie suds and scrubs me from head to toe, methodically cleansing my skin of the day’s hard work. As she works, her hands massaging and lingering in some areas longer than others, or skimming around my cock. The more she teases, the harder I get, a groan escaping me when her soapy hand strokes the length of me.

When I am squeaky clean and hard as a rock, Ellie stands and quickly sheds her brassiere and panties, both getting too small to accommodate her changing body. Delicately, she steps into the bath around me and sinks down slowly, steadying herself on the tub. The water level rises, almost spilling over the brim as it takes the weight off her belly. Wedging herself onto my lap, my cock pinned to my stomach by hers, she leans forward and kisses me sweetly.

“You sure your hips are okay?” I ask in a tight voice, trying to remember I can’t be a total animal with her right now.

She answers me by lifting herself back up, taking me in her hand, and then sinking down until I’m buried inside of her. “I’m sure,” she whimpers, rocking her hips.

Water sloshes the rougher our movements become, both of us chasing pleasure. My hands wander, playing with her tits, which have grown significantly in the last few weeks. She moans loudly as I twist my fingers around the hardened nipples, her nails scraping on the sides of the tub as she uses it for leverage to work her body up and down, my hips working to meet hers from underneath.

Before I know it, I’m gasping as she quivers around my cock, making my balls tighten up and release inside her. As we come down from the ecstasy, Ellie presses forward, tucking her face into my neck.

“I love you, Eleanor Walker,” I murmur, pressing kisses to her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers. “Thank you.”

I furrow my brow. “For what?”

“For loving me.”

She can’t see my affectionate smile. “Easiest thing I have ever done is love you, little Ellie.” I hold her for a few minutes, then pat her ass under the water. “Go see to the boys in our bed,” I tell her. “We both know they’re impatiently waiting.”

“Damn right we are!” Warren calls.

Ellie and I chuckle, and then I help her stand. I take over, using fresh water to rinse us both off before ensuring she carefully steps out of the slippery tub. I want to take my time drying her with the threadbare towel, but I don’t, making quick work of it so she can go see Benny and Warren.

When she’s dry, I plant a heated kiss on her lips and send her on her way. I go about my business, wrapping a towel around my hips while I shave, and all the while listening to Warren and Benny take Ellie to Heaven.

“Richie.”

My name is filled with so much panic that I’m instantly awake.

“Richie, something is wrong,” Ellie says, panic in her voice. She lets out a whine, doubling over as she lies in bed, her hand on her belly. “It hurts.”

My wind whirls as I scramble out of bed. The doctor, when he checked Ellie, said she would give birth sometime after the New Year, maybe around Christmas if she goes early because of having twins. We’ve barely passed Thanksgiving, an event that saw Warren and Benny staying all weekend with us.

I rip the blankets off the top of her and freeze, the blood seeping into the bedsheets startling me. Ellie sees it and cries out, trying to move away from it like it didn’t come from her body.

“Richie!” she cries. “What’s happening?”

I am not prepared for this. Every muscle is locked up in fear.

“Richie!” Ellie sobs, as another gush of blood soaks into her nightgown and the bedsheets.

“Hold on!” I bellow, tearing out of the bedroom. I slide on the worn wood floors as I scramble for the phone Benny bought for us a few months ago, in case of an emergency—like this. There is only one person I can think to call.

After a dozen rings, Mr. Denis picks up the phone, his voice gruff and pissed. “What do you want?” he snaps. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I need Mrs. Denis,” I choke out, listening to Ellie’s fear echoing from the bedroom. “Please. It’s Ellie.”

“Shit,” he says under his breath, then shouts for Mrs. Denis. “Mary! Quick!”

Mrs. Denis’ voice is alert as ever when she comes on the phone. “What is it?”

“Ellie is bleeding!” I blurt out. “She’s in pain and bleeding!”

“Sweet Jesus,” she murmurs. “I’m on my way, Richie. Keep her calm and I’ll be to you as quick as I can.”

I hang up without any additional pleasantries, rushing back to Ellie. She writhes on the bed, holding her belly. Gathering her up in my arms, I pull her up so her back is against my front.

“It’s okay, my little Ellie,” I say, attempting to keep my voice calm and soothing. “Mrs. Denis is on her way. Everything is going to be okay.”

It has to be.

Her tears soak into me, and so does the blood that has slowed its gushing. “Richie, our babies,” she whimpers. “Are the babies going to be all right?”

“Of course,” I answer, forcing myself to not wonder if it’s a lie. “You and our babies are going to be just fine.”

It seems like centuries pass before I hear the door slam open, the entire time spent rocking my wife and whispering assurances in her ear. There’s too many feet to just be Mrs. Denis, and I’m proven right when Benny and Warren crash into the bedroom.

As soon as Ellie sees them, the quiet crying she had slipped into with an occasional cry of pain changes into gut-wrenching sobs. They split, one going to each side of the bed to take her hands.

“Ellie, my love,” Benny says, his voice clogged with emotion. “We’re here.”

It makes her cry harder.

“Oh, God help us,” Mrs. Denis says, hustling into the room and taking quick stock of what is happening.

In any other circumstance, I might laugh at the rollers still in her hair or the fact that she has a forgotten silk sleep mask shoved up on her head. But the grave look on her face doesn’t bode well and any humor I can usually muster was lost at the first sign of terror from Ellie.

Mrs. Denis launches into action. “Help me prop her up on pillows,” she orders. “I need you boys to gather me supplies. Now!”

The Cooper brothers jump up and help me rearrange Ellie on our two pillows, then all three of us race off to get the things she asks for. I return with towels and a bowl of fresh water after putting a kettle of water on to boil. I’m relieved Benny found blankets with the directions I gave him, using them to prop Ellie up more.

Warren runs back into the room, clutching a pair of scissors. Mrs. Denis snatches them from him and starts cutting up the front of Ellie’s nightgown from the hem. Once she’s passed Ellie’s belly, she pushes the new flaps to the side, and then snips the sides of her panties, removing them.

All of us reach for Ellie, tangling our hands together as Mrs. Denis uses a towel dunked in the bowl of fresh water to wipe away blood from Ellie’s thighs and vaginal area. When she’s done, she glances up at Ellie, whose eyes are still wide with fear and pain.

“I don’t have a lot of experience with this. My mother was a midwife though, and I know how to check for the babies’ positions and such things,” she says, the unspoken question for permission hanging in the air.

“Do it,” Ellie whispers, her fingers clutching at ours hard enough to make me wince.

Mrs. Denis grimaces as she leans forward, pressing two fingers into Ellie the same way the doctor did when he checked her a while back, using her other hand to feel on her stomach as she pushes from the inside. Mumbling to herself while Ellie lets out a distressed scream, she pulls her fingers free, revealing more blood.

I don’t know what it is about the look Mrs. Denis gives us, but a wave of grief hits me before I have time to figure it out.

“She’s dilated, but not enough to deliver the babies,” she says quietly. “Her womb is filling with fluid—probably blood. She needs a hospital right now.”

My heart sinks. “We’ll go now,” I reply with a nod, trying to disengage my hand so I can grab a few things and get us to the truck.

“What about the babies?” Ellie croaks out, holding tighter to my hands.

“I believe, Ellie, that miracles can happen,” Mrs. Denis answers gently. “But sometimes we have to meet our Lord halfway. We need to get you to a hospital.”

The words breathe a bit of fire back into her, giving her something to cling to, and she nods. With no time to waste, Benny hoists her up in his arms, rushing out of the house, and we follow, snatching up towels to use. Instead of my truck, he places Ellie in their car. When he catches my questioning look, he shakes his head.

“I’m not risking a breakdown on the way, and I don’t fucking care about anything but getting her to the hospital.”

Fair enough.

We all, including Mrs. Denis, pile into the car. Rocks and dirt spray behind us as Benny floors it, sending us skidding down the rough path.

“Easy!” Mrs. Denis reprimands, while Ellie shrieks through clenched teeth.

Impatiently, Benny guides us down the road more carefully, flooring it again once we hit the smoother pavement of the main road.

“It’s going to be all right, Ells,” Warren murmurs, kissing her temple.

“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice shaky.

“I know,” I reply, just as fucking terrified. “We’ve got you. We love you.”

The sound of the tires screeching announces our arrival at the hospital, alerting nurses to run out to the car. I get lost in the shouting and orders being tossed around as Ellie is hoisted onto a wheeled bed. When Warren, Benny, and I try to run to keep up with her, a nurse stops us, shoving us into a waiting room before disappearing with our girl.

None of us, despite being raised by officials of the church, have ever been keen to pray unless required of us. But it still doesn’t surprise me when all three of us hit our knees, bowing our heads, and plead with God to deliver one of those miracles that Mrs. Denis mentioned.