Chapter 49
Clover
After hours left alone in the cold and dark, the door cracked open and a bottle of iced tea, followed by two plastic-wrapped sandwiches, flew through the opening.
Maggie jolted to her feet, throwing herself at the door, but it was shut and locked when she hit it. “Wait! Please, at least tell us what you want. Why are we here?”
She was met with silence. Her fist slammed against the door, a growl tearing out of her throat.
Murmurs filtered through the ceiling vent on the far side of the basement. I caught a few words, wandering over closer to listen. “He will! We’ve got the tramp.”
“He’s not answering.”
“Get her to call him,” a female voice hissed.
“We tossed their phones when we grabbed them.”
“Well, go and get them.”
They devolved into fighting.
Maggie slid to my side, staring up at the vent. “Hey, fuckers! Stop being such a bunch of useless cunts and tell us why we’re here.”
“Um, maybe let’s not piss off the captors?” I whispered.
“Shut up and eat your food.” The female voice was louder this time, maybe she was on her knees at the vent. “You’re not leaving that basement until we get what’s ours.”
Another painful cramp hit me, and I bent over, groaning as it circled my midsection.
“Clover, what the fuck was that?” Maggie whispered, her eyes wide and full of panic as I stood back up, the wave of agony over. I’d been trying to hide them from her, but that last one had been too strong.
“It’s nothing.” It had to be.
“It’s not nothing. That seemed serious. Was it a contraction? How long have you been having them?”
I scrunched my eyes closed. I didn’t want to admit how long it had been or what was probably happening, because I was in the worst possible place for that to be happening.
Maggie wasn’t backing off, eyeing me hard as I stood there, nervous that it would happen again, and quicker this time. “Clover, answer me,” Maggie demanded, laying her hands on my shoulders like she was trying to keep me steady.
“I’ve been feeling twinges off and on for a few days, I guess.”
“Why didn’t you go to the hospital? Did you tell the guys?”
“They’re not—” I stopped myself. I had no idea how long I had been in labor for.
“The pains have been going on for days, but they weren’t bad.
Whenever the guys felt it through the bond and commented on it, I just told them that everything was uncomfortable this late into pregnancy, ‘cause it is. I didn’t want to panic anyone, and they’d have sent me home to wait if I’d gone in too early. ”
“Clover, you’re bonded to a pack of fucking billionaires. They would not have sent you home. They’d have put you in the damn presidential suite and done every test under the sun.”
“Well, excuuuuse me for forgetting that rich bitches live on another fucking planet from the rest of us.” I whimpered, pain sweeping through me again.
“Shit!” Maggie stood straighter, her eyes somehow flaring even wider as she held her hands out toward me. “You’re really in labor?”
I shook my head because this was all so wrong.
“No, no, I cannot be in labor, because when I go into labor, I’m going to be in a hospital where they have clean water, doctors, and drugs, all the pain relief drugs.
I plan to take every damn medication they offer me and eat ’em like candy or let the doctor stab ‘em in my ass,” I hissed, another cramp hitting me.
I breathed through the discomfort while Maggie awkwardly supported me.
“Let’s walk a bit. That’s supposed to help, right? I feel like that’s what I’ve read. I have no idea what’s from TV shows or the baby books anymore, but I’m like ninety percent sure walking is supposed to help labor.”
“I will not be going into labor in a basement!” I hissed.
Maggie nudged me into motion, lightly rubbing my back in small circles that sort of distracted me. “Umm, I know that’s the plan and all, but…”
I whimpered.
Maggie paused under the vent on one lap. “Hey, assholes! If this is a ransom thing, I can pay it myself if you let me have my phone. Clover needs to get to a hospital.”
I stared at her. How had it not occurred to me that she’d have access to the Ashcroft fortune for something like that?
“Do you think we’re stupid?” the female voice snapped. “We’re not giving you your phone. You’d call for help. We’re getting the money either way, so sit down and shut up.”
Maggie pouted and whispered, “Damn. I didn’t put a lot of faith in that, but I’d kinda hoped.”
Much as she might want to, even all her influence and money wasn’t letting her throw her weight around in this situation.
Every lap around this stupid room made me more furious that my first baby was probably going to be born in this hellhole. Whoever the fuck had taken us had better hope this was a long labor, because I was ready to maul their faces off.
I whimpered through another cramp, my knees almost buckling, and my water finally broke. “I hate this.”
Maggie frowned. “I know, I’m not a fan of it either. Let’s get those pants off you, and you can have a little rest.”
Not about to protest, I let her help me to the mattress—though I cringed at having to use it at all, it was better than sitting on concrete.
She wrangled me out of my sodden pants, washed up again, and she resumed rubbing circles on my back.
Maggie pressed harder on her next circle, adjusting, which put more pressure on my pissed-off muscles until I groaned.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” She pulled her hands back sharply.
“No, it’s okay. It felt nice. Actually, can you press on my lower back, maybe squeeze my hips a bit?” I asked, gently swaying from side to side and focusing on keeping my breathing even.
She did as I asked, and the relief—though not total—was terrific. I vaguely remembered how the books and nurses said that having someone put pressure on the lower back could be really great when the time finally came.
It was.
“How’s that?” Maggie asked softly.
“It helps,” I said, nodding with my eyes scrunched closed.
“Clover, I know you don’t want to have my little nibling down here, but if this baby is choosing to come now, then there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
” She didn’t let up on the pressure as she spoke, and I had to at least give Maggie that.
She might have been saying exactly what I didn’t want to hear, but at least she was still trying to help.
I frantically shook my head, hating every second of this. “Nope. Your brother will be here before this baby arrives, and my pack will get me to a hospital. One with epidurals and all the medication I can handle. I want to be floating on a cloud when I have this baby.”
Despite the discomfort of the moment, Maggie snorted. “Sure, and my brother and his pack will cease being overprotective buttheads.”
I turned to look at my fellow omega. For a brief second, we stared at each other seriously before bursting into laughter. Despite the gravity of our situation, kidnapped by a damn stalker and me in labor, we’d found a moment of levity. And hell, that helped almost as much as the back rubs.
Humor was good. Humor meant we hadn’t totally lost hope.
Yet.
Giving birth in a shitty basement was the opposite of how I wanted to bring my baby into the world.
Still, given the rapidly accelerating contractions—I had to admit that’s what they were—I was unlikely to have a choice.
The guys just had to get here soon. No matter what nonsense was going on in the outside world, they had to get to me.
I wasn’t going to let my child be in this foul place a moment longer than necessary.
Another wave came over me, the contraction cutting off my residual laughter and forcing me to focus, to turn inward. I breathed through my nose and then out through my mouth, making this moaning noise that felt really good.
“You’re doing great, hun. Keep breathing like that.” Maggie had never trained to be a doula, but she was finding the hidden skills since the situation demanded it. I leaned into her, relishing in her scent of Earl Grey tea. Omegas were pure comfort, and I was heavily relying on that.
Parker was going to owe her a mansion after this bullshit.
I wanted drugs. I didn’t want to feel my contractions.
But I was in a basement with only a mattress on the floor and a half bathroom.
We didn’t have blankets to wrap the baby in or a way to cut the umbilical cord.
My mates weren’t here. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be.
A sob tore from me at the renewed realization of our fate.
“I hate this!” I sniffled, finding anything in front of me to squeeze in my grip, which happened to be Maggie’s hand. “I don’t want to do this. It’s not fair.”
“I know, hun. I know. It fucking blows, but I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” To her credit, Maggie didn’t try to soften reality or come up with some lame suggestion.
“If you get the chance to run, you have to take it,” I said through gritted teeth.
“What? No. I’m not going to leave you.”
“I can’t run in this state. If you get out, you can find help.”
“Let’s worry about that after we get the baby out.” She held my hand while I broke a little. “You’re a bad bitch and you can handle this. Take some deep breaths for me.”
After a moment, I sucked in a new breath, finding some well of strength inside me that would get me through this.
Because I had to. Maggie was right. I was a bad bitch.
“Okay, let’s make this work before the contractions really fuck me up.” I looked around the room, seeing if there was anything useful we’d overlooked. “Turn on the tap so it gets warm. We’ll do our best to wash our hands.”
Maggie helped me to the sink as we scrubbed down a bit before another contraction hit. I hung over the sink, breathing in the steam until it was over. Maggie stripped off the T-shirt under her sweater, rinsing the shirt under the water and wringing it out so she could dab at my sweaty temples.