Chapter 24
Gio
Oh shit.
It wasn’t just baby time; it was time for me to disclose the secret I’d been holding onto for weeks.
And Rory was not going to be happy about it.
“We’re not going to the hospital.”
Blue eyes bulged from across the bathroom. “Excuse me, what? Did you miss the part where my water just broke? We need to go. Now.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to come up with a different way of saying it so she would understand.
“What I mean is, we can’t go to the hospital. It’s not secure enough.”
A burst of hysterical laughter sounded from my wife. “I don’t give a flying fuck about security. Do you understand me? Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a tiny person about to rip their way out of me and an epidural waiting at Windy City General with my name on it.”
She moved to shove past me, but I wrapped my fingers around her damp bicep, halting her.
Staring up at me with murder in her eyes, Rory gritted out, “Gio, I swear to God . . .”
“Rory,” I drew her name out slowly. “I need you to listen to me.”
“No.” She shook her head so violently that wet strands of red hair whipped me in the face. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say unless it’s, ‘Honey, I’ll grab your bag and warm up the car while you get dressed’.”
Yanking her arm out of my hold, she stormed into the bedroom, grabbing underwear from a drawer.
Since words weren’t getting through to her, I strode to the window and pulled back the curtains. “Rory, for fuck’s sake, will you just look at this?”
Radiating annoyance, she swiveled her head around, but the fire seeped right out of her when she caught sight of the whiteout conditions beyond the glass.
Mouth dropping open, she breathed, “Oh my God.”
“Even if I wanted to take you, baby. I can’t.”
“No. No, we can make it. The hospital’s not that far, and we’ve got four-wheel drive.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Four-wheel drive doesn’t matter when you can’t see two feet in front of the vehicle. Would you rather give birth in the car after we’ve crashed into a snow bank, or do it in the comfort of your own home, where it’s warm?”
“Um, how about none of the above? I want to go to the hos-pi-tal.” She clapped out each syllable for emphasis.
“Rory, that’s not an option.”
“I don’t ca—” Her face scrunched up, and with one hand she gripped her stomach, the other reaching out to steady herself on the nearby dresser.
With fluid steps, I was by her side, coaxing, “Breathe.”
“You fucking breathe,” she snapped, voice strained.
Less than a minute later, the contraction passed, and she straightened, shooting me a murderous glare, “This shit hurts like a bitch now, and it’s only going to get worse. I can’t do this without drugs. I won’t do this without drugs.”
“I know this is upsetting—”
“Upsetting?!” Rory screeched. “Will it be upsetting when I cut off your dick? Probably for you, but I’ll be just fine knowing you can never put me through this again!”
My hands immediately moved to cover my junk because the crazy look in her eyes told me that wasn’t an idle threat.
Since she needed a minute to wrap her mind around this, and I needed to hide all the knives in the house, I inched toward the door. “I’m going to go wake up Dr. Corsi so he can examine you.”
“Corsi is here?!?!”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, not sure if that news made the situation better or worse in her mind.
“He’s in a guest room in the east wing,” I replied. “I decided it was best to have him on-site once the weather report came in, citing blizzard conditions. A homebirth might not be what you were expecting, but Corsi has delivered babies before. Hell, he delivered me in this very house.”
For a pregnant woman in labor, Rory moved fast on her feet, closing the gap between us and grabbing two fistfuls of my T-shirt.
“Gio, please.”
I shook my head sadly. “This might have initially been my decision, but it’s out of my hands now, thanks to Mother Nature.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “What if he’s too big? What if I can’t get him out on my own and need a C-section? Are you going to let your mafia doctor butcher me to save your heir?”
Those were valid concerns, and ones that had rolled around in my brain countless times since I’d determined that we couldn’t risk going to the hospital.
Cupping her face, I vowed, “We’re going to make it through this.”
Lower lip trembling, she asked, “Who’s we, Gio?”
I stroked her cheeks with my thumbs, dropping my forehead to hers. “You and me and Luca. All three of us are going to make it out on the other side.”
“That’s not a promise you can make.” Wetness spilled over her lashes.
“I’m Gio Bellini. My word is law.”
A watery laugh sounded. “You truly believe that, don’t you?”
Cockiness seeped into my tone. “It’s hard not to when I’ve never been proven wrong.”
There was an audible swallow from my wife. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Put on something loose and comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
My heart twisted at hearing the near-silent cries filtering through the open doorway behind me as I left the room.
For all our sakes, I prayed this delivery would go smoothly and quickly.
“Gas,” Rory gasped, her sweat-soaked form writhing on the bed. “I need more gas.”
I handed her the clear plastic mask, and she placed it against her mouth, inhaling greedily.
Dr. Corsi became Rory’s personal savior when he’d held up a small tank of nitrous oxide upon entry to our bedroom suite. While it didn’t block the pain completely like an epidural would have, it dulled it enough that she’d made it through the twelve hours of contractions to this point.
My wife tossed the mask aside with a panicked cry. “It’s not working!”
Checking the gauge on the tank, I cursed under my breath when I saw the dial pointed toward empty.
“What? What is it?” Rory clutched at my forearm, her desperation palpable.
“I’m sorry.”
Her brow furrowed. “Sorry? What do you mean, you’re sorry?”
Swallowing thickly, knowing it was going to be hell from here on out, I delivered the bad news. “It’s all gone.”
“Nooooooo,” Rory wailed as her head dropped back, her spine arching. Every muscle in her body locked, fighting hard against the contraction. Tendons straining in her neck, her scream of ”Fuck!” floated toward the ceiling.
Though I would never admit it aloud and incur the wrath of my wife, I was suffering as much as she was. As a man of action, sitting on the sidelines, utterly helpless, was pure fucking torture.
Panting as the wave of pain began to pass, Rory groaned, “My ass feels like it’s about to explode.”
My eyes bulged, swinging around the doctor hovering near the bottom of the bed. I wasn’t exactly an expert on childbirth, but I knew with absolute certainty that was definitely the wrong hole.
Thankfully, Dr. Corsi explained, “The pressure you’re feeling is the baby moving down the birth canal. Listen to your body. If it wants to bear down on the next contraction, go ahead and give pushing a try.”
He’d remained pretty hands-off to this point, only stepping in occasionally to check the baby’s heart rate.
The decision to let Rory labor with minimal medical intervention had been made after she kicked Corsi in the jaw the first time he attempted a cervical check.
He now sported a purple bruise that demanded I tack on a bonus for his services on his way out the door.
Once the roads were passable again, of course.
We were nearing the finish line, but Rory was quick to realize the agony she was in would only get worse before it got better.
“Gio,” she sobbed, tears straining her flushed cheeks. “I can’t do this. Please don’t make me.”
Climbing onto the mattress, I took her face in my hands.
“Do you know why I call you my tigrotta?” When she shook her head, I answered my own question, “Because you are fierce, you are strong, and you never back down from a fight. If there’s anyone who can bring our son into the world with no drugs, in the middle of a snowstorm, it’s you. ”
My wife’s eyes slammed shut, even as wetness leaked from beneath the sealed lids. “It hurts so bad.”
“I know.” I dropped my forehead to hers. “But the reward is going to be so worth it. We’re so close, baby. I just need you to keep fighting for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?”
Her lashes lifted to reveal fear mixed with determination in the sapphire gems staring back at me.
Before she got a chance to answer my question, another contraction gripped her.
Channeling the extreme agony she experienced, Rory tucked her chin to her chest, her face turning a deep shade of scarlet as she attempted to push. But almost immediately, she stopped, a shrill cry spilling from her parted lips, followed by a huff of “Something’s wrong. It doesn’t feel right.”
I turned to Corsi, who was already pulling on a pair of latex gloves.
“I’ll need to examine you. And I’m afraid it will be more than a little unpleasant at this late stage of labor.”
“What can I do?” I offered my assistance.
“Actually . . .” the doctor began. “If you can get up on the bed and keep her legs held back, that would help immensely.” His eyes lifted as he spoke to my wife. “Would that be all right with you, Mrs. Bellini?”
“Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice,” she muttered, already rising on her elbows to make room for me.
Climbing up behind her, I positioned her arms around the back of my neck so that her nails dug into the exposed flesh there. Against her temple, I said, “Give me your pain. I can take it.”
Rory understood the assignment, curling her fingers so that her sharp talons pierced my skin.
“Her legs,” Corsi prompted.
Reaching down, I spread Rory’s thighs wide as the doctor moved between them. There were streaks of blood coating the insides, which I’d come to learn was normal as dilation progressed.