Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Arbor
M orris helps me into the back of the huge truck, and I push up on the seat with my hands as pain envelops my lower half.
Oh, fuck.
Why can’t the whole lightning shooting in your vagina thing be a myth ?
God.
I feel so stupid.
Knowing bad weather was on the way, there’s every possibility I should have checked into a hotel in town. Except, I’m supposed to have close to two weeks left until my due date. I understand it’s not an exact science, but wasting money on a hotel room seemed frivolous.
What if another storm kept popping up and popping up? I can’t afford weeks of hotel costs when I have a free place to live.
“Is there someone I should call?” Morris asks, sliding in at my side.
My stomach drops.
There’s not.
My lip wobbles, and I shake my head. “No.”
The massive alpha curses under his breath. “Tell me what’s going on, please.”
I hate how pleading his tone is, but I’m not getting into the mess that is my life.
Not right now.
As Morris wraps an arm around the back of the seat, I’m smacked with his rich coffee scent.
My whole body twists, and my nose ends up buried in his shoulder. “My instincts are frazzled, and you smell nice.”
“That’s okay. Drink down my pheromones if it helps.” His arm wraps around my side, and he plants a hand on my stomach. “Have you been timing the contractions?”
I nod, then shake my head. “I was before I left. The book said to head to the hospital if they were less than five minutes apart, and they are, but they never regulated. It said they’d be at equal intervals… That’s why I thought it wasn’t real labor. Only, they got really painful, and I got scared.”
“Okay,” he says, glancing at his watch. “You tell me when you feel one, and I’ll time it out. Is it from the end of one to the beginning of the next?”
“No, beginning to beginning. You also need to note how long they last for,” one of the twins says, climbing into the driver’s seat. He passes my bag back, along with my purse, and drops them on the floorboard. “We met at the gym—Hayes.”
“Yeah, I remember,” I say, wishing I had just stayed home and birthed the baby on my own.
Women do that, right?
Yeah, they do.
They’re just stronger than I am because even the thought sends a shiver down my spine.
Hayes’s big blue eyes study my face as his messy brown curls stick up in a million directions. I’m not sure what’s happening or what we’re waiting on until the passenger door opens.
The duplicate copy of Hayes climbs into the passenger seat. Apparently they’re twins, and identical enough that it’s difficult to tell them apart by their facial features alone. I was really confused when they first popped up outside my car.
The guy in the passenger seat swivels around, holding out the diaper bag.
I take it, blinking like a fool.
How did I forget that? I thought about myself, but not the bag for the baby. That doesn’t seem like something a good mom would do.
God, I’m floundering already.
“Hael,” the newcomer says, catching my gaze. “You’re having a rough night. Don’t stress, we’re going to get you to the hospital.”
Hayes—who seems to be the more stoic of the two—nods and focuses on getting ready to shift into gear. “Shit, the snow is really coming down.”
“You could just take me back to my house. It’s like five minutes that way,” I say, pointing straight out the window.
“Enough,” Morris growls. “Head toward town. If it gets too dangerous to go on, we’ll take you to our house.”
“Yeah,” Hael says. “And don’t worry about your car. I’ve got someone from the shop coming to pick it up. Well, as soon as it’s safe.”
That’s nice.
Except, I have no idea how I’ll get me and the baby home from the hospital now. I was already dreading paying for the parts that need to be repaired. I’m sure it’s totaled after that little trip into the snowbank.
“The dispatcher says the road is completely blocked,” Hael says from the passenger seat as I grunt through the most painful contraction yet. “A power pole came down. It’s blocking both lanes of the highway—there are live wires and a truck driver trapped in his rig.”
“Fuck,” Hayes says, slowing the vehicle. “There’s no other way into town. What if we went the opposite direction? God, that’s like forty minutes away. The ice is bad. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to risk it.”
“Give them our address,” Morris says. “We’ve already seen what the ice can do.”
I frown, realizing he means my car.
That wasn’t my finest moment.
This entire night has been a disaster.
Another contraction hits out of nowhere, and I sob. “Oh, that’s bad .”
“They’re right on top of each other,” Morris says calmly. “Get us back home safely, and we’ll go from there. Babies are born without hospitals every day.”
“I wanted an epidural,” I hiss, my legs spasming from the pain. “It’s the only part of my birthing plan that was set in stone.”
Hael continues updating the 911 dispatcher as my entire body throbs.
The truck makes a sharp turn, and I wail. There’s no other word to describe the sounds that escape my lips.
“You’re okay,” Morris coos against the side of my head.
I shoot him a dubious glare, but I do appreciate the effort. Or I will once I’m no longer in agony.
These poor guys had no idea what a disaster they stumbled upon when they stopped.
Their driveway is long and dark, but the log cabin Hayes pulls up to is beautiful. There’s a spacious wraparound porch and trees around the exterior of a well-maintained lawn.
That’s all I get to take in as Morris hoists me from the truck and crunches through the snow with purpose.
The twins beat him up the porch steps, and Hayes is quick about getting the door open.
“Shit, we forgot your bags. I’ll go back for them,” Hael says, jogging away.
They’re braver than I am.
Sneaky ice is everywhere here, and I’ve had more than one instance of not being able to tell where it’s safe to step. Then again, my center of gravity has been off since getting to Maine.
A violent wave of fire radiates through my lower half, and I groan, burying my face in Morris’s shoulder. “It’s so bad. Oh my god, this can’t be a normal amount of pain!”
“I’ve got you,” the giant alpha says, walking down the entryway hall.
Hayes slides past us and takes off at a brisk pace.
My legs jerk as the throbbing discomfort turns to intense pressure. “I’m starting to feel like I need to push.” My hand flies around my stomach and to my leggings as something slick slides down my leg. “I think my water might have just broken.”
“That’s okay. It’s all part of the process.” Morris smiles tightly, and we make it into a spacious living room.
Hael follows us in, dropping my hospital bags. “Someone tell me what to do.”
“Brand-new blanket and a new shower curtain liner.” Hayes tosses him one of those zipped plastic containers that new bedding comes in, followed quickly by the other package. “Stretch out the liner on the sectional, then put the comforter down over it. Towels come after, and focus on where you think her lower half will go. I bumped up the heat. I’m about to change into clean clothes and scrub my hands.” He drops a pile of towels on the other side of the couch and looks at me, giving a tight smile. “I was fully trained in delivery and postpartum care as a medic in the military. It was part of our national disaster response training. I need to check you and maybe see if I can tell if your amniotic fluid is clear. If it’s not—” His head shakes. “Get settled and don’t stress. It’s not good for you or the baby.”
I am, in fact, very stressed, but I don’t get to focus on that for long as another contraction starts to build.
My nails dig into Morris’s neck, and I try to choke out an apology, but it mostly just ends up a moan.
“There were five pairs of gloves in the first aid kit,” Hayes says, squatting down in front of the end of the sectional. “I need to get your bottoms off to see if I can determine how dilated you are.”
Morris is immediately behind me, with my back to his chest. Just being able to feel his warmth and strength was a nice distraction for a few seconds, but reality catches up all too quickly.
“No, I’m fine. We need to wait for the ambulance.” I nod, wrapping my arms around the sheet Hael tossed over me. “Thank you for offering, but I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
“I don’t think we can wait.” Hayes’s forehead wrinkles as he studies my face and pats my calf placatingly. “Your contractions are right on top of each other. Even if the ambulance arrives, they won’t move you until they determine how dilated you are. I’ll keep the sheet up; you won’t have to see anything.”
I almost snort.
It’s not the seeing that’s the problem.
I’m not emotionally prepared for this man to be wrist deep in my vagina, especially not while my son or daughter works on making their way into the world.
I’ve watched enough birthing videos to know it’s not a pretty sight.
My head falls back against Morris’s chest as yet another contraction starts. He stretches his arms down and grabs my hands.
“I’m right here with you, sweetheart.” He nuzzles his cheek to mine from behind, and his scratchy beard slides against my skin. It’s strangely comforting. “Breathe if you can. I think that’s supposed to help with the pain.”
I’m so grateful to not be alone right now, but the pain intensifies until I struggle to keep from shrieking.
“If you can’t breathe, then scream,” Morris says soothingly. “Whatever will help you make it through the contraction, do it.”
My stomach gets hard as a rock, and I squeeze my knees together to keep from pushing. Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I writhe, trying to find a way to escape the agony. It takes several eternities, but the pain slowly subsides. Only, I can feel liquid dripping from between my thighs.
In all honesty, I don’t think I should avoid pushing for much longer. Nature and the female body know the deal, and it’s important to follow those natural cues.
My eyes meet Hayes’s. “Check what you need to.”
He nods and grabs a pair of the gloves from the coffee table.
“Why don’t I boil some hot water? I saw in a movie that you need hot water when delivering a baby,” Hael says, swiping a tattooed hand over his face. He gives a tight smile and strides out.
Yeah, I would probably run, too, if I could.
“I’ve got the water under control,” he says from somewhere deeper in the house.
“I should have helped you out of your leggings before putting the gloves on…” Hayes curses under his breath. “Hael, get your ass back in here! We all know your specialty is undressing women.”
“I am going to punch you in the throat,” Morris says from behind me. “Talk shit to your brother later. Right now, I need you to get yourself together. Don’t deflect. You can do this.”
I slide my arms under Morris’s, grab the top of my leggings and hideous maternity underwear, and shove them down in one go. Gritting my teeth, I push up enough to get them out from under me.
They’re bickering because of me, and that’s a problem. These guys are going to be so traumatized, they’ll never have kids of their own.
“You’re pretty close to fully dilated, if you’re not there already,” Hayes says. “I was able to feel the baby’s head.” He drops the sheet over my lower half and pulls off his gloves. He tosses them in the trash can next to the couch and frowns. “I probably should have kept those on.”
“It’s too soon.” My head shakes as my eyes well with tears. It’s irrational, and I know that, but I still hear myself say, “I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I’m supposed to have two weeks left to prepare.”
Hayes walks around to the side of the sectional and squats down. “You can do it. You already are. I think you’re in the transitioning phase. It’s the final one, and it’s known to heighten emotions and anxiety, but we’ve got this. Babies are born every day outside of the hospital.” It sounds a little like he’s giving himself a pep talk by repeating what Morris said.
Another contraction starts, and my head slams back against Morris’s shoulder as I groan. I don’t even have the opportunity to apologize because this contraction means business.
Does the baby have knives ringed around their head? It burns worse than anything yet. My hands fly to cradle my lower stomach, and I can’t hold back the scream that escapes.
“Right here with you, sweet girl,” Morris says soothingly. He massages my hips from the side, and I start to wonder if I leaned forward if he would mind rubbing my lower back like that. The pain and hardness of my stomach finally let up, and I rest against Morris once more. “I can only imagine what you’re going through, but we’ll be with you every step of the way.” He cuddles his cheek to mine while my body shakes with trembles that I can’t control.
Is this a reaction to the pain?
God, it’s terrifying.
It feels like my nerve endings are too overloaded to know what to do.