Chapter 6
SIX
JADE
My heart starts to race the second I open my eyes and stare up at the fluorescent lights. The last thing I recall is being in the shower, clutching my stomach, and seeing all the blood drip down my legs.
So much blood.
Too much.
I struggle to push the sheet off me, my hands immediately falling to my stomach. It looks just as it did before, but I can tell my baby is no longer inside of me. I can feel it.
“Easy.”
My gaze snaps in the direction of the gruff voice, and my eyes land on Shotgun.
He sits in the corner of the hospital room, his hands braced on top of his spread thighs, exhaustion clouting his face.
I don’t know why he’s here or how he found out I was in the hospital.
I don’t even know how I got here. A million questions swirl around my muddled head, but the most important one manages to leave my lips.
“Where’s my baby? Please tell me my baby is okay.”
“He’s perfect,” he says, hoarsely. Pushing out of the chair, he comes to stand at my side. “He’s in the NICU—”
“The NICU?” I cry, tears immediately filling my eyes. “But you said he’s perfect.”
“He’s having some trouble breathing on his own, but they’re doing everything they can to help him. He’s going to be okay, Jade. He just needed a little more time inside of you, but he’ll catch up. Everything else is good. Ten fingers, ten toes. A strong heart.”
He extends his hand, his thumb brushing across my cheek, wiping away my tears. I close my eyes briefly, allowing myself a moment to revel in the comfort of his touch.
“He looks like you,” he rasps.
My eyes spring open and I stare at him for a beat, my mind reeling.
I don’t ask him how he knows what my baby looks like.
I don’t ask how he knows he’s having trouble breathing or why he’s even allowed to be in my room.
We’ll get to all of that eventually. What I need to know now, is how he knew to come for me?
I’m assuming Fuckface had something to do with it.
“How did you know I needed you?”
“Legend called me. He heard you scream but was too afraid to check on you himself.”
That breaks my heart, and I feel more tears slide down my cheeks. He must’ve been so scared. My poor boy. “Where is he now?”
“Biggie took him and Raiden back to the clubhouse. They’re good, Jade. They’re relieved their mom is okay and excited to meet their brother.”
Relief washes over me, and I drop my head back against the pillow. I want to see my baby. I want to hold him, and make sure he’s okay, but my eyelids feel too heavy. My body too weak. My mind entirely too loud.
“I’m tired,” I whisper.
“Then close your eyes and sleep. I’ll be right here.”
“No,” I whisper. “Go stay with Killian. I don’t want him to be alone.”
“Killian,” Shotgun murmurs.
“That’s his name. Killian Duke Callahan. It means little warrior.”
He reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “It’s perfect.”
Twelve hours later, I was finally able to meet my son. They couldn’t bring him to me, so I had to get clearance from my doctor before going to the NICU—something I wasn’t familiar with.
With my other pregnancies, I delivered vaginally, but due to the placenta abruption, I needed a c-section.
And let me just say that the people who think having a cesarean is taking the easy way out of birth, are fools.
When I delivered naturally, I was up and about an hour after I gave birth.
I remember placing my breakfast order as I swayed on my feet, rocking Legend back and forth in my arms.
This was nothing like that.
The recovery was so much worse. Getting out of bed for the first time was excruciating.
It felt like someone had taken a hot brand to my stomach.
I couldn’t stand without someone’s assistance, and I had a pain in my shoulder that was so intense I thought I was having a heart attack. Come to learn, it was only gas.
Can you imagine? Who the fuck gets gas pains in their shoulder?
The mothers that are flayed open, that’s who. It’s a side effect from the anesthesia and fairly common from what I understand.
I took three steps before I dropped my ass into the wheelchair, and man, that hurt almost as much as getting up. But I was on a mission to see my baby. Shotgun wheeled me to the NICU, and that’s when I learned he let everyone believe he was my husband and Killian’s father.
“Why would you let them think that?”
“No one was giving me any information.” He leaned down, pressing his lips close to my ear. “That’s him over there. He’s a little jaundice so he’s got to stay under those lights.”
My eyes moved to where he was looking, and I saw him.
My little warrior.
He was smaller than his brothers, and he had paper sunglasses taped over his eyes, and a bunch of wires attached to his little body.
Shotgun wheeled me over to where he was, and for a moment, all I did was stare at him.
Then I leaned forward, ignoring the burning sensation in my abdomen as I outstretched my hand and touched him for the first time.
“Dad’s been doing a good job, but I think this boy is ready to have his Mommy hold him,” the nurse said.
I didn’t correct her. In fact, the whole comment about Shotgun being his dad completely flew over my head.
I was too consumed by my need to feel him…
to kiss him and nurture him. Nothing else mattered.
“Yes, please,” I whispered.
Shotgun locked the wheelchair and stepped aside, giving the nurse room to maneuver Killian into my arms. When I was pregnant with Raiden, I wondered how it would be possible for me to love him as much as I loved his brother.
I quickly learned when he was born that the heart grows in an instant, and the moment Killian was nestled against my chest, it happened again.
My heart grew to the point that I thought it might explode.
And for the first time in three weeks, I didn’t feel so empty.
I don’t know how long I held him, but after a while I noticed my hospital gown was wet.
My milk was starting to come in. Unsure if he’d be able to feed from me while being hooked up to all the equipment, I turned to the nurse for guidance.
She said I could try and see if he’d latch but warned me that I shouldn’t get discouraged if he didn’t.
I was aware that Shotgun was close by, but I didn’t care. At least not in that moment. I just wanted to feel the connection with my son.
With the nurse’s help, I pulled my breast out from my gown, and guided Killian to my nipple.
He didn’t latch or make any attempt to, and despite the nurse’s warning, I became emotional.
In turn, Killian started to fuss. Not wanting to cause him any distress, I handed him back to the nurse and wiped away my tears.
That’s when Shotgun came back to stand behind me.
“Do you need a break?” he asked quietly.
As much as I didn’t want to leave my baby, I nodded, and asked the nurse if she could arrange for me to see a lactation consultant. If Killian wouldn’t latch, I’d have to resort to pumping, and because my hormones were in disarray, that made me irrationally angry.
By the time Shotgun brought me back to my room, and helped me get back into bed, I was itching for a fight.
A half hour has passed, and he still hasn’t taken the bait. The man clearly has the patience of a saint.
“Biggie texted me. He wants to know if you’re feeling up to having the kids visit.”
“Of course I want to see my kids,” I retort, but as soon as the words leave my lips, I realize the last time Legend saw me, I was in bad condition.
I may be conscious and not lying in my own blood, but I definitely look rough. I need to make myself presentable for them. Take a shower and brush my hair. Be dressed in something that doesn’t reveal my entire backside.
The problem with that is, I didn’t anticipate going into premature labor, so I never packed a bag for the hospital.
“What’s that look for?” Shotgun questions, pocketing his phone.
“I don’t want them to see me like this. My hair is a mess, and I’m leaking all over the place.”
That was probably too much information, but I can’t take it back now. To Shotgun’s credit, his eyes never waver from my face.
“Jade, they don’t care what you look like. They just want to see that you’re alive and well.”
I don’t know when he became the voice of reason, or how it’s possible for him to know exactly what I need to hear, but he’s talented in that regard. It’d be endearing if it wasn’t so damn infuriating.
Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I concede the pajamas aren’t a necessity. “I’d still like to shower before they get here.”
He nods. “You want me to swing by the house and grab you some clothes?”
The immediate response should be yes, but then he’d have to leave, and I don’t know that I want him too.
God, I’m a fucking mess.
“My maternity pajamas are in the top dresser drawer. I’m going to need my nursing bras, and regular underwear too. I don’t know if they’re in the same drawer. If not, they might be in a bag in the closet.”
His jaw goes slack for a split second, and I watch his throat bob as he swallows.
“Anything else?”
“You can grab whatever toiletries that are in the master bathroom too, and my brush is somewhere on the vanity. Oh, and I’m going to need my toothbrush. It’s the black one.”
Shotgun slaps his hands against his thighs before he pushes out of the chair.
“Toiletries, brush, and toothbrush. Got it.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “What about the boys? Can I just take anything from their closets?”
“Yes, but if you can find the Big Brother shirts I bought, that would be great. Oh, and I did start to put some things in my diaper bag.” I don’t know that I’ll be able to dress Killian while he’s in the NICU, but there’s the blanket I used when all the boys were born that I could probably place in the incubator with him.
“It’s in the nursery, on top of the glider. ”
“The glider?”
“It’s like a rocking chair.”