Chapter 42
KINGSTON “FROST”
After work yesterday morning, I did surveillance on the Dirty Cannibals.
Hiding in backyards and forest areas, I watched them set up shop at the Grave Disciples’ clubhouse.
Their bikes were a constant of comings and goings, hauling equipment, furniture, and buying up homes.
At this rate, there won’t be anyone left in this area who ain’t a Dirty Cannibal.
Too close to our headquarters. The thought doesn’t sit well with me, and the worst part is we have someone in our midst who hates us enough to betray us.
When I got home, aggravated by this kind of deception, I was more than thrilled when Stevie wanted me to fuck her.
It was an outlet for me and I took it selfishly.
But afterward, the sitting around naked, eating, talking, and fucking was the most incredible thing in the world.
To have my little Rebel all to myself. Her laughter is a song in the wind.
Just seeing her content cleansed me of my irritations, and the next thing I knew, I’m apologizing to Rebel.
And it was the first time I’ve apologized for anything.
Our conversations stripped me of the Frost everyone has known, even myself, showing a new side of me.
A new person capable of being a dad, and good enough for my Rebel.
Now at the cemetery, I hear her call for me, so I return to Alicia and Hayes’ grave. Her legs are apart, and there’s a puddle underneath her.
“Uh, did you pee?”
She smacks my arm. “No, I didn’t pee. My water broke.” I’m confused. “I’m in labor, Frost!”
Once it hits me, I pace, turn in circles, pulling at my hair, not knowing what to do.
“Frost, get the truck.”
I snap my fingers. “Right.”
I’m about to sprint to the truck, but I turn, grab hold of her face, and kiss the hell out of the mother of my children.
Fuck!
I sit her on a nearby bench and run while thinking, I’m going to be a dad.
My stomach tightens, and my chest burns like a knot of burrs stuck inside. Am I prepared for this? Is hate and anger a gene malfunction? Will I become my dad?
Fuck no!
I’ll raise my boys right. They’ll never feel the weight of my hand, or cutting words that will gut them and follow them into adulthood.
My boys will watch how well I treat their mama like a fucking goddess who gave me a chance.
Who must have seen something other than a psycho, convict biker stalker.
Shit!
What if them boys are girls?
My stride slows as I reach the truck. This thought scares the fuck out of me. What can I offer girls aside from protection? Keep them from mean motherfuckers like me who use women?
These thoughts scrape my insides. By the time I pick Rebel up at the cemetery, I’m fucking freaking out while she’s sobbing. Placing her on the passenger seat, I drive her to the hospital, every once in a while giving her arm a small squeeze.
The doctors and nurses settle us into a room, calm Rebel down, while I’m still fucked in the head, paralyzed with fear.
I’m in the chair by her bed, staring at the wall when Rebel lets out a groan.
Her hands draw invisible circles over her belly, puffing air in and out in spurts, and then she lays back onto the pillows.
For the first time since Rebel went into labor, I notice how much pain she’s in, yet she tries to remain calm. What a fucker I am, focused on my fear? I find a wet washcloth and pat the sweat off her face.
A strained smile and another groan, has me dropping the cloth and asking, “What can I do?”
She rides out the contraction by vice-gripping my hand, panting, and when it passes, she catches her breath. A middle-aged nurse comes into the room carrying a metal bar.
“Hello, Stephanie. My name is Brenda, and I’ll be your labor and delivery nurse for the day. It’s my job to make you feel as comfortable as possible. I even brought you a squat bar to see if you’d like to try it.”
Rebel runs a shaky hand through her sweaty hair. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It helps widen the pelvis, and gravity assists in delivery. I’ll show you, hun.” She clicks one bar on the side toward the end of the bed and gestures to me. “Hey handsome. Can you click the other side in for me?” I follow her directions. “Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Kingston.”
She holds her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Kingston.” We shake and then she turns to Rebel. “How about we move you around a bit so I can show you how this works?”
Both side bars connect to a bar that runs above the bed.
Brenda helps Rebel to sit up, lifting her feet, so she can press them against the side bars.
Then she tells Rebel to squat and rest her arms on the cross bar.
She continues to show different ways Rebel can use it during contractions and delivery.
After all is explained, Brenda checks Rebel’s vitals and something about dilation.
“Okay, Stephanie, you’re dilated to three. Would you like an epidural?”
Rebel glances at me for assurance, and because I’m jumpy and nervous, I respond, “I have no fucking clue what any of this means.”
“Watch your mouth, King.”
Brenda cuts in, “Dilation means how much Stephanie’s cervix is opening up. Epidurals are given in the spine to reduce pain.”
I move over to her. “Whatever you want. This is your call.”
She nods for emphasis. “Yes, please. I’d like an epidural.”
“Okie dokie. I’ll be right back.”
The nurse returns and says, “When the babies are born, we normally put them on the mom’s bare chest. Skin-to-skin.
It reduces the baby’s stress, gives a quick immune boost, and is a bonding experience.
The father can also participate. This is done immediately after the baby is born.
Is this something either of you want to do?
” We both say yes. “Good. Since you’re having twins, we can do one each? ” Again, we agree.
Another contraction comes while Stevie is on her back.
It crushes me to see her in pain. When it subsides, she stands at the end of the bed by the squat bar, places a pillow on top, and leans forward.
Her belly brushes the mattress, and her backside is exposed.
A flash of one of the many times I fucked her yesterday comes to mind, but I shake my head of the vision.
Not the time or the place, King.
Standing behind her, I move my hands up her outer thighs to her lower back, and use my thumbs to massage her. Rebel’s pregnancy has widened her hips and ass, and I think it’s hot as fuck.
She groans. “Oh God that feels good.”
I bend and kiss her cheek. “You’re doing great, Rebel.”
From her periphery, she raises an eyebrow and responds, “Really? I’ve complained about my swelling, pain, and everything else. I’m horrible. Duchess loved every bit of her pregnancy.”
My thumbs knead into her back pulling a grunt from her. “Duchess only had one baby.”
She rests the side of her head on the pillow, butt hanging out, and closes her eyes. “Thanks, Frost.”
It’s been seven hours since Rebel got the epidural, except she still is in a lot of pain.
With every contraction, she squeezes her eyes shut and rubs her stomach, while doing some crazy breathing.
She’s propped up in bed; feet pressed against the bar and rests between contractions.
Her wet hair is a mess, sticking to her scalp, sweat glistening her face, and her legs wide open. She’s exhausted.
Rebel turns to me, asking for some ice chips, so I head down the hallway to fill up her pitcher. When I return, the nurse and some guy are between her legs. I slam the pitcher down and my head snaps to Rebel, narrowing my eyes as to what the fuck is going on.
Her hands are on the backs of her thighs when she says, “It’s a teaching hospital, King. She’s explaining dil---”
A contraction comes and she screams this time, which freaks me out.
Brenda says, “It’s time, Stephanie. Let’s get you in a squat position.”
I walk to the other side to slip my arms underneath her back to pull her onto her feet. Rebel’s watery eyes meet mine, pressing her lips together, and eyebrows creasing. She’s scared. We get her in a squat position and she holds onto the bar.
Grabbing her face, I kiss her all over, wiping up her tears and sweat, and say, “You’re strong, Rebel. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
She inhales, nodding several time as if she’s found renewed confidence.
Brenda bends to see what’s going on. “I need you to push, Stephanie.”
She grips the bar, her whole body trembling, pushing down hard.
“That’s good, Stephanie. I see the head.”
I push the guy out of the way, and I was not prepared to see this head of hair coming out of Rebel. She continues to push, but she’s having difficulty and is tired.
“Let’s get you on your back. You can grip under your thighs when pushing.”
Rebel’s on her back, pulling her thighs toward her, continuing to push.
Brenda yells, “Take your shirt off, Kingston. The baby will be here in one more push. Have a seat.”
And she is right, the baby comes out, and Brenda shows her to Rebel saying, “It’s a girl.”
She places the baby on my chest, guck and all, and I’m hit with emotions.
Tears run down my face, my hand holding under my baby girl’s butt as she lays on my chest. This is…
an experience I will never forget. I smile, tears streaking my cheeks, looking over at Rebel who is taking a break.
She’s drenched in sweat. Several more pushes, and the second baby comes out.
Brenda lays the baby on Rebel’s bare chest as she says, “And we have a boy.”
Rebel is sobbing, kissing the baby’s head, and within seconds she grows still, closing her eyes.
The nurse shakes her. “Come on Stephanie. Wake up.”
Brenda screams out orders as she places my little boy on my chest.
“What the hell is going on?” The room floods with people, and I yell, “Stevie! What’s wrong?” I can’t get up because of the babies. My hands rest on their backs, heart pounding blood in my ears, because I’m freaking about losing her. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Rebel!”