31. Odell
THIRTY-ONE
ODELL
“You want to do what?”
Hunter had shifter hearing, but he was shaking and banging his head as if he had water in it.
“Visit the panic room.”
He sat me down. “The place where we stayed after I kidnapped you? That panic room?”
“How many do you have?” Technically, the huge underground bunker contained more than one room, but we always called it the panic room. No “S.”
“Dellie, you had a panic attack down there. More than one.”
I parroted the expression I’d coined: panic in the panic room. Sounded like a band name.
“I want to see it before the baby comes, say goodbye hopefully, and move on to being a family.” I patted his arm. “You’ll be with me, and the door will be open so I can leave if I’m claustrophobic.”
I needed to do this, and it’d been on my mind for a while. That scary part of my life was over, and while I couldn’t predict what the universe would throw at me, at us, I asked it not to send another Stefan on our journey.
“Okay.” Hunter made a call to Ranger, asking him to stock the fridge.
“Why me?” I could hear Ranger’s irritated voice through the phone. “Why can’t you have one of our guys do it?
“You know why. They can’t access the panic room. You and Flint insisted both of you and Uncle Arnie should have your retinas added to the scanner in case of an emergency.”
“I didn’t expect you and Odell to be popping down there for a baby moon.”
“A baby moon?” Hunter mouthed at me.
“A holiday before the birth.”
Hunter stuck his tongue out at the phone.
“I just know you’re poking your tongue out!” Ranger was wise to my mate’s tricks.
He ended the call, and Hunter and I shared a laugh. Outwardly, Ranger was all bluster, but he was a big softie on the inside, though he still threatened to kick Hunter’s ass at least once a day.
“I want it on the record that I’m not happy with you being underground. And what if the baby has claustrophobia?”
“Hunter!” I put his hand on my huge bump. “There’s no space in there. Our little one can hardly move, so I’d say they’re fine with it.”
“If you really want to reminisce, we should take the Red Beast.” He pointed at the car as we walked into the garage.
I blew the car a kiss. “Love you, but I need comfort.” I steered Hunter to his most recent purchase.
“Good choice.”
This was a much more enjoyable ride than that first day, and we chatted about the nursery that was ready for the baby. Hunter worried we didn’t have enough diapers, as he’d seen the supplies at his brothers’ homes. And I mentioned the hand-crafted rocking chair from a friend was being delivered tomorrow.
I had worked at the club for months before my paternity leave but had never been back to the panic room.
It was morning when we arrived, and the club was closed. The bodyguards checked inside first, and when we got the okay, Hunter led me down the stairs and around the winding corridors. I thought I’d remember how to reach the panic room, but I was confused after one left and two right turns.
“It would be cool if I could open the panic room door, but I get why I can’t.”
Hunter had discussed it with the family about adding mine, Matt’s, and Tony’s retinas to the scanner. They went back and forth about the pros and cons. Flint said the shifters could shift and fight if someone tried to get them to access the bunker. But if anyone was intent on getting in there, they’d remove our human eyes.
There were inherent dangers being part of the shifter mafia. We three had accepted that when we decided we wanted a future with our mates. And while my brothers-in-law were capable and strong, none of us were comfortable with the possibility of having our eyes gouged out.
The retina scanner unlocked the door, and Hunter allowed me in first. I stood in the doorway as scents assailed me. Cleaning fluid. Had someone died here? Perhaps I listened to too many true crime podcasts.
Hunter turned on the air-conditioning and poured me a glass of water.
The plush furnishings were familiar, but there was a new rug on the floor. Hunter explained Flint and Tony had spent a night here while his dad babysat, and they’d spilled wine. I didn’t buy it but also didn’t want to know what they’d done. Maybe they’d reenacted Flint kidnapping Tony. Nah, they could do that in their basement where Flint had locked up Tony.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” The handheld fan I’d brought in my backpack helped. I glanced at the door, making sure it was open, and peered into the small bathroom.
I wandered around, trailing my fingers over the sofas and cushions and admiring the artwork on the walls. There was something new. It was a painting, but it appeared as a window. It was so realistic, and it mirrored the street outside.
“I had that done for you in case you were ever down here again,” Hunter said.
“Ohhhh.” I bent over, and my mate was at my side, muttering he knew this was a mistake.
“We’re leaving.”
“I think we’d better.” But as I stood, a puddle formed underneath me. The baby had been putting pressure on my bladder, but I’d never peed myself before. I clutched Hunter’s shirt. “I didn’t pee.”
“Dellie, it’s okay. A little accident. It’s easily cleaned up.”
If I hadn’t been in pain, I would have laughed because my mate wasn’t much for cleaning.
“No, babe, you don’t understand. My water broke.”
My mate’s gaze flicked to the water glass on a side table. “Broke?”
“My body is preparing for the birth.”
“Birth!”
I might have snapped, telling him to stop repeating what I said, but my belly cramped again. Resting my head on his chest, I counted as the contraction clawed at me and finally released its grip.
“I’m in labor.”
I tensed, waiting for Hunter to repeat, “Labor?”
“We have to get you to the hospital.”
Aunt Louisa had pestered me, insisting I have the baby in a hospital, and I’d given in because I was also wary about having the birth at home. Hunter had said the decision was up to me.
“First baby in our family to be born in a hospital,” was what he’d said.
But the contractions were coming fast. I couldn’t climb up the stairs. My mate would have to carry me.
My groans were echoing around the panic room, and I sensed the anxiety rising in me. But I had to get this baby out—not here, but at the hospital, so I had to stay focused. Calm was out of the question. I was eight and a half month’s pregnant having contractions in a panic room.
There’d be no panic in the panic room today.
“Dellie, your breathing… look at me.”
I focused on Hunter’s face, and we breathed together, using the same four and six techniques as that first day.
“I won’t make it to the hospital.” I already had the urge to push.
“Is it okay if I phone Treyton?”
Having been uncertain about having a home birth, I was now determined our little one would be born here. And a friendly voice on the phone would help allay my fears.
I nodded, telling Hunter I needed to squat while the contraction wrapped about my bump. He held me under the arms and crouched behind me, the phone on the floor nearby, as I labored, my loud moans somehow helping to get me through the pain.
Hunter spoke rapidly into the phone, and I caught a few words. “Lunch” and “across town.” He pressed the device to his chest and words tumbled out of his mouth. “He’s on his lunch break at a hospital across town. But he can talk you through it for the next thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes!” I gritted my teeth. “What does he think I am? A godsdamn city bus?”
A chuckle was relayed through the phone. “Sorry, Odell. Babies wait for no one.”
“I want to push.” Hunter removed my pants and underwear, and I leaned over the sofa, panting while he dragged a bunk bed mattress into the space.
Treyton asked questions about how close my contractions were, and I yelled, “Too close,” while Hunter gave him a more exact time.
“Stop talking,” I snapped and didn’t regret it. I had a baby in me who wanted out. “I need to squat again.” My body and the baby were telling me that was how it should happen.
Once again, my mate put the phone beside us and scattered cushions below me and around us. He lowered me into a squatting position as contraction after contraction took hold of me. Every part of me hurt. Fingers, toes, even my hair.
Hunter and I performed the hee-hee-hoo breathing we’d learned in birthing classes while Treyton told me how well I was doing. I hoped he wasn’t fibbing ‘cause I was pushing out what felt like a watermelon.
“It hurts so bad.” I grunted and pushed. Nothing was happening. No baby, no crying little one, just a lot of hurt. “How long is this gonna take?”
“Not long,” Treyton assured me. He was definitely lying. “Feel for the baby’s head.” Hunter did as Treyton instructed.
“Hair. I feel hair.”
“Hair!”the three of us yelled. I’d never been excited to hear that word, but I must’ve been doing something right.
With a renewed burst of energy, I grunted and pushed. There were many moans and howls, and with Hunter having one hand underneath, he told me the baby’s head was out.
“Our baby has a head.” Words were pouring out of me with little thought.
More pushing, and Hunter said the shoulders were out and then the relentless pain was gone and my mate said he had the baby.
My brain couldn’t comprehend how he was holding me up with one hand and cradling the baby with the other. I pictured tentacles.
He lowered me to the mattress, and I caught the first glimpse of our child. A little girl with hair plastered to her scalp.
“Hello, my darling. Bet you didn’t think you’d arrive in a panic room.”
I held her close as another voice congratulated us. Not Treyton.
“No! I missed it. I was at my other grandchildrens’ births.”