33. Reed
Chapter thirty-three
Reed
“They’re upstairs in the guest bedroom,” Thalia says as soon as her brother flies into the house. He’s taking the steps two at a time before anyone can stop him.
I walk over to my girl, wrapping her in my arms as I kiss the top of her head. “You did amazing. How far along is she?”
“Eight centimeters,” she gives me a watery smile that melts my heart. “Can you believe it? I’m going to be an aunt!”
I take her hand in mine, my face softening. “It’s cause for celebration. Did they need anything?”
She shakes her head. “Taryn has been bossing us all around. Addison stayed to help her with the delivery.”
“Good.”
Everyone waits with bated breath as the time ticks by.
No one says a word as Rowan leans against the open door frame and picks at his nails with nerves.
Bailey paces near the stairs, occasionally looking up to see if anyone has emerged.
Alana is seated on the edge of the sofa, her hands gripping the cushions as Connor holds her close.
Thalia keeps her head tucked into my side, her eyes never leaving her guest room door.
Steps outside make Rowan turn. His expression shifts when he sees Theo and Dom’s grave faces.
“We need to talk,” Theo whispers.
The Midwestern branch leader nods before closing the door to give them privacy. We can hear their muffled voices from outside, but no one understands what’s being said.
Thalia’s watching them through the window, her hand tightening in my shirt as her eyes narrow. Tension lines her shoulders, and I squeeze her to me as I talk quietly in her ear. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
She hums. “That would be entirely too easy.”
Rowan returns a second later, his face devoid of any emotion as he steps back into the house. Until we all hear it.
One little, long cry that cracks through the air. Everyone visibly relaxes as Thalia places a hand over her heart and her tears roll.
“She sounds so beautiful,” she sobs.
Rowan swallows, sniffling as he fights his waterworks. “She’s got strong lungs.”
I take my girl in my arms, wiping away her tears. The upstairs guest room door opens, and Taryn walks out with blood-soaked towels wrapped in her arms. She notices everyone downstairs smiling. “She’s healthy.”
Cheers erupt around us as everyone claps with joy. Next to follow are Atlas and Addison, and we don’t miss the little bundle wrapped up in the burly man’s arms as he coos down at his daughter.
“Everyone,” he addresses the room softly, on the last step of the staircase, “I would like for you to meet Sophia Kingsley.”
A tuft of dark hair peeks out from beneath the pale pink blanket wrapped around her, and her tiny face is scrunched in sleepy confusion as she blinks against the light. One fist escapes the blanket long enough for her to wave it through the air before settling back against her chest.
A collective gasp fills the room.
“Oh, my goodness,” Alana breathes, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Bailey abandons all attempts at looking composed. “She’s perfect.”
Atlas’s grin widens. The man looks like he hasn’t slept in days; his shirt wrinkled and stained from the birth, but pride radiates from every inch of him.
He glances down at the infant in his arms as though she hung every star in the sky herself.
He looks up and makes direct eye contact with Thalia across the room.
“Do you want to hold her?” He asks.
Thalia freezes. “Me?”
Atlas chuckles. “Yes, you.”
Her eyes widen to impossible proportions. “Are you sure?”
“You look like you’re about to pass out if I don’t let you.”
A nervous laugh ripples through the room. Atlas carefully descends the last step and stops in front of us. The moment he places Sophia into Thalia’s arms, my girl stops breathing.
At least, that’s what it looks like. She stares down at the newborn as though she’s been handed something sacred. Sophia squirms slightly before settling against her chest. And then, impossibly, one tiny hand wraps around Thalia’s finger.
A broken sound escapes her. “Oh.” Tears immediately spill down her cheeks again. “Oh, sweetheart.”
The room grows quiet. Bailey stops pacing, Rowan stops pretending he isn’t emotional, and everyone simply watches.
Because something changes in Thalia’s expression. Something so soft and full of unconditional love. Sophia opens her eyes for the briefest moment, dark and unfocused, and Thalia smiles through her tears.
“Hi, Sophia Kingsley,” she whispers. “We’ve all been waiting for you.”
The baby lets out a tiny sigh and falls asleep in her arms. And somehow, after all the worry, all the waiting, and all the fear, the house finally feels complete.
I rub a hand over her back, soaking in the moment I got to see her fall in love with the bundle in her arms. This time feels sacred—precious. And I’m unbelievably lucky that I got to be a part of it.
And hopefully many more to come…
After the events of last night, we found it would be best if Atlas and Loxley stayed in the guest room until they were comfortable moving Sophia home. Which led to everyone staying and sleeping downstairs in the living room on makeshift mats.
The morning sun hasn’t even risen when I hear what sounds like knocking from below. It’s a quiet rap, almost too low to make out, but I hear it as I roll over. Thalia reaches for me, her eyes still closed as I lean down and kiss her temple.
“I’m going to answer the door. I’ll be right back.” I whisper.
She hums. “Let Rowan answer it. Come back to bed.”
I chuckle as I brush her hair behind her ear. She’s already back asleep before I can plead my case. My footsteps are light as I trail through the house in baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt. I nearly burst out laughing when I see the mess in the living room.
Connor is half on the couch, half off, with his arm slung over his head as Alana sleeps on his chest. Taryn and Emma have their own pallet made in the furthest right corner, Bailey is passed out under the coffee table, and Rowan is sprawled out on the armchair with Addison tucked neatly into his lap.
I step back before retrieving my phone from my pocket and snapping a picture of everyone together. Another low knock comes from the door, making me frown as I trudge forward and open it.
“Hello? Can I help you?” I ask, only to blink when I connect the features.
Dark, short hair. The same older woman from last night. She’s standing right in front of me.
She produces a gun, the shiny black exterior glinting as she shoves it into my side with a wicked smile. I gasp, reaching for her wrist until she shushes me and presses harder into my flesh.
“Come with me and I won’t shoot.” She commands quietly.
I swallow, nodding as I hold my hands up slowly.
Fuck. Me.