Chapter 42
Ari
The night air feels a little cooler tonight. I’m wrapped in Vincent’s arms, relaxed and content.
So of course, I break the peaceful silence to talk about something very much not peaceful.
“What was it like when your fiancée had JR?”
He’s quiet for a beat. “Messy,” he finally says. “Loud. Scary as hell. Stressful. But the second you hear that baby cry for the first time, it’s like somebody flipped a switch on in your life. The whole world changes in half a second.”
“Did you see it?”
“Yeah, I saw everything. Cut the cord, too.”
“That must’ve been—“
“Wild,” he says. “I can’t even describe the feeling.”
“Was she in a lot of pain?”
He hesitates again. “At first, yeah.”
I nod. “If we’re still here…do you think you’ll know what to do?”
“I think so, yeah. It seems like once labor starts, the baby’s comin’ the fuck outta there regardless. It’s just a matter of how long it takes. But it’s comin’ out. It’s nature.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll cut the cord. I think you have to tie it. I remember the doctor putting a clamp on it. Must be a reason.”
I nod, feeling ashamed that I don’t know any of this. I’m thirty-seven with two nieces and I don’t know shit about having babies.
“Don’t worry. I know you’re scared, but it’s gonna work out. I got you.”
And I believe him.
I believe every word.
“Ari.”
My eyes are so heavy right now. I’m warm and comfortable, darkness all around me. I think I hear Vincent calling me, but I can’t get my eyes open. I must be dreaming.
“Ari!”
The whisper is sharp this time, with a razor’s edge. My eyes open halfway.
“Hm?”
“Go get up in the tree. Now.”
I freeze.
I’m awake now. I see Vincent standing just outside the shelter, muscles tense, axe in hand, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Then I hear it again.
That deep, wet grunt I heard all those months ago.
Rooting.
Rustling.
And I know instantly.
“Now, Ari. Go!”
I don’t bother with my shoes. I scramble out of the shelter and race to the other side of the tree.
I put one foot up, grimacing when the sharp bark digs into my skin.
But it’s a small price to pay for safety, so I climb.
It’s slow going and painful, and a small slip down the tree feels like it takes the skin off my knee, but I manage to get far enough above the ground to feel relatively safe.
My heart pounds mercilessly, and the little one inside me begins to move. I feel guilty for my panic, knowing I’m stressing her out, but there’s nothing I can do. We’re trying to keep her safe.
Thwack!
Thwack!
I hear thuds. Wet sounds. Cursing.
Grunts.
More thuds.
More cursing.
Then, it’s quiet.
Vincent comes back into my line of sight, chest heaving, arms splattered with dirt and blood.
“What was it?” I ask, my voice small.
He drops the axe. It hits the soft ground with a thud. “Another one of them fuckin’ pigs.”
“Oh my God.”
“It’s gone, baby.”
“I know. It sounded like you killed it twice.”
He chuckles. “It pissed me off. Walkin’ up in here where my fuckin’ family sleeps. Shit set me off.”
There’s a fire in his voice that sends a chill through me.
“I’m a get you down. Lemme just clean this blood off real quick.”
He sits next to the fire and uses a bottle of water to clean himself off. I watch him and think to myself, that’s the kind of man you want by your side.
“Come on down, Ari,” he says as he rounds the shelter. “I got you.”
He reaches out with both arms. I slowly climb down until I’m within reach, relaxing against him as he carries me back to the shelter and places me gently inside.
“Where is it?”
“It’s over there. I’m ‘bout to cut that bitch up so you can have some bacon in the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that. Come back to bed.”
“Can’t,” he says. “Too much adrenaline. But get some rest, baby girl. I’m fine.”
He gets down to his business, while I get down to mine: watching him butcher that ugly animal. The way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth when he concentrates. The way his muscles flex when he cuts through a tough part. The way he doesn’t flinch when its blood splatters on him.
I love this.
I love when a man is useful.
I don’t suppose they get many opportunities to be useful in modern times, but this right here is a return to form. And I’m enjoying it very much.