Chapter 33
Penn
Every muscle in my body is coiled tightly, buzzing with a useless energy that makes me want to rip the bedrail off the bed. Dixie’s face is pale and covered with sweat from hours of being in labor.
“Alright, Dixie,” Dr. Alvarez says, positioned at the bottom of the bed. “We’re ready to push. The next time we feel a contraction, I want you to take a deep breath and push.”
I’m not the biggest fan of having another man down between her bare legs like this, but it’s not something I can really control. She had Dr. Alvarez as her OB/GYN before I came into the picture as more than just her bodyguard.
Dixie pants, her chest heaving under the thin cotton gown, and her fingers dig into my palm. The girl has one hell of a grip. I was pretty sure she was going to break my hand when I first walked into the room. She both impressed and terrified me.
“Penn,” she gasps, and I know she’s scared.
The truth is, I am, too. I can only imagine what it must be like to push a child out of her body, but I can’t wait to meet this little boy. How can I love someone I haven’t met so much yet?
“I got you,” I promise. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Reaching down, I cup the back of her left thigh when she groans as the contraction hits, and I lift to give her better leverage. Her skin is beyond hot, and her body vibrates with the strain of what she’s demanding her body do. Brenda grabs her right leg, giving us both nods of encouragement.
“Deep breath, Dixie,” Brenda says. “Inhale, hold it, and push down like you’re breaking through a wall.”
Dixie lets out a low, ragged groan that turns into a guttural scream as she curls herself forward.
The tendons in her neck stand out, and her face flushes a deep crimson.
She pushes with everything she has, and I wish I could take some of this off her plate.
Take some of the pain and strain to give her a break.
“Keep going,” the doctor says, his hands at her opening. “Push, push, push. Ten seconds. You’re doing great.”
I watch the sheer agony and determination on Dixie’s face, and I honestly have no idea how women do this. As many fights as I’ve been in, I’ve never seen anyone fight this hard before.
The contraction breaks, and she falls back against the pillows, gasping. Her hair is damp and tangled, but she looks absolutely gorgeous.
“That’s it, baby,” I whisper, leaning over to kiss her sweaty forehead. I grab a cup of water with a straw and hold it out for her to take a drink. “You’re doing so good.”
“It’s so much,” she says. “I think he’s stuck.”
“He’s not stuck,” I say, setting the water glass back down. “He’s coming. He wants to meet his mom just as badly as she wants to meet him. Just a little longer, Dixie. We’re doing this together.”
Her eyes are filled with unshed tears, but she nods. The stubbornness that I fell in love with long before I realized I was falling is front and center, and I’m doing everything I can to support her.
“Again,” Dr. Alvarez says. “I can see the top of his head. He has a lot of dark hair, Dixie. Push on this next one, and give me everything you can.”
The next contraction hits, and Dixie doesn’t hesitate. Knowing how close we are to meeting our boy gives her a second wind. Well, more like a seventh, but I just hold her, helping as much as I can.
“He’s crowning,” the doctor says. “Don’t stop, Dixie. Just a little more.”
“Come on, baby,” I whisper, staring in amazement as I see a little head come into view. “I can see him, Dixie. He’s beautiful.”
She screams, and there’s a sudden, wet rush. The baby’s head slips free, and Dr. Alvarez moves with practiced ease, checking him over before looking back up at us.
“One more quick push, Dixie, and you’re done,” he says.
Dixie pants, her eyes wide and unfocused, but she gathers up the last of her strength and gives a sharp heave. The baby slips completely into the doctor’s waiting hands, and for a fraction of a second, the room is completely silent.
My heart stops, waiting and suspended in the cool air, but then the sharp, angry cry of a newborn fills the space. A tiny, furious sound that turns into a full-throated cry.
He’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s here.
A thick knot swells in my throat, and it’s difficult to breathe. Tears sting at the back of my eyes, but I blink them away. This isn’t about me. It’s about Dixie and our son.
“We have a healthy baby boy,” Dr. Alvarez declares, a wide smile on his face as he lays him on Dixie’s chest.
Dixie lets out a sobbing laugh, her arms wrapping around him as Brenda cleans out his nose, eyes, and mouth with a little suction device before wiping him over. He squirms and screams a bit before settling down, and I slowly release her thigh.
“Would the father like to cut the cord?” Dr. Alvarez asks.
My throat is dry, but I nod. “Yes.”
I step closer to the bottom of the bed, and he hands me a pair of heavy scissors. My hands shake slightly, and I hate how nervous I am. I never get nervous.
“Right between the clamps,” he says, pointing at the cord.
Taking a deep breath, I steady myself and slide the blades around it. Snip. That’s all it is.
This is beyond surreal.
I brush her hair from her forehead and can’t stop smiling. “He’s perfect. You did so good, Dixie. I’m so proud of you.”
Dr. Alvarez works between her legs, and I should be concerned. I should be asking questions, but I don’t care. All I can see is my girl holding our boy.
He’s finally here.
A younger resident doctor with slicked-back hair that could use a cut steps into the room. “Mind if I handle the sutures, Dr. Alvarez?”
“Dixie, do you mind if we have our resident stitch you up? Give him some practice? I’ll be right here the entire time,” Dr. Alvarez asks.
“Go for it,” she says, her smile and gaze fixated on the baby in her arms.
The man steps into place between her legs, and something about him rubs me the wrong way. He’s too cocky for a resident.
“Well, Dad,” he says, “since we have to do a few stitches anyway, I can put an extra one in for you. Keep things nice and tight, if you know what I mean. We call it the husband stitch.”
Dr. Alvarez’s eyes widen, and Dixie’s do, too. The words hit me like a slap, and I’m immediately pissed. Furious. The blood roars in my ears.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I ask, my voice a low growl as I glare at him.
“Everything okay?” Zep asks, stepping into the doorway wearing his leather.
The resident’s eyes widen as he realizes the man in scrubs is actually a member of the Hellfire Daredevils MC. And he just offended me by offering to perform something unnecessary on the woman I love.
“I... I was just making a joke,” he stammers, his voice cracking. “It’s a joke. I didn’t mean it.”
“A joke?” I ask, walking toward him. He stands from the rolling chair and backs up until he hits the wall. “Let me tell you something, you little cocksucking prick. If you touch her, I’ll break every fucking bone in your hands so you can never hold a scalpel again. Get out of here.”
“Brenda, can you call the chief and let him know Dr. Miller’s off this floor for the foreseeable future? Dr. Miller, I’d suggest you get out of here before he and the rest of the men out there decide to make good on his threat and then some,” Dr. Alvarez says. “I’ll take care of the stitches.”
The resident doesn’t need to be told twice, and he slips past me only to be met by Zep right outside the door. He manages something that sounds like an apology before his shoes squeak as he runs the other direction.
“I’m so sorry, Dixie,” Dr. Alvarez says.
“Thank you,” she says, but there’s a smirk on her face when I turn to face her. “That was excessive.”
“Nobody’s going to talk to you like that when I’m around,” I say, walking back over to gently touch the baby’s hand. “Besides, excessive would be taking him to the parking lot and curb stomping his jaw like I wanted to.”
Nodding, she giggles. “Yeah, that would definitely be excessive. The rest was really restrained.”
“That was mild!” I exclaim, but I laugh as she just continues to giggle.
Brenda grabs a clipboard and smiles at us. “Have you picked out a name yet?”
Dixie looks up at me. “He looks like a Jeremy to me. What do you think?”
“Jeremy Knapp,” I say. “Sounds perfect.”
“Jeremy Calloway.”
I know she wanted me to sign the birth certificate, but I didn’t think she’d want to give him my name. “Really?”
“Unless you object.”
“Brenda, babe, write that down. In pen. I don’t want her changing her mind,” I say, tapping the clipboard.
Both women laugh, as does Dr. Alvarez. She hands me the clipboard. “Ready to sign?”
My fingers tremble as I take the pen, but I quickly put my name down. Father: Penn Calloway.
The tightness in my chest is nothing but pure love. For years, I’ve been running from everything I’d lost. Family. Love. Loyalty. And here I am, getting all at once.
Dixie reaches up to take my hand as Brenda takes the baby to do a proper cleaning, and she smiles at me. Tears fill her eyes, and I don’t care that my own stream down my face. She just gave me everything I could ever want. More than I ever thought I deserved.
“I love you,” I whisper, kissing her hard.
“I love you, too.”