Coup De Grâce (Code 11-KPD SWAT 7)

“”Hello?” A bored woman’s voice came over the speakers in my car.

“This is Nikki Perez, I’m in labor,” I said a little breathlessly.

Another pain had consumed me, and I had to pull the car over to avoid wrecking.

“How do you know you’re in labor?” The woman asked with annoyance.

I clenched the steering wheel and said through clenched teeth. “Because I’m having regular contractions, and I go breathless each time one hits. Now, relay the message.”

“What did you say your name was again?” The woman asked snottily.

The pain finally loosened it’s grip on my uterus, and I started moving forward again.

I knew I’d get a good two minutes of reprieve, which might get me all the way to the ER before I had another.

“Nicole Perez, but my maiden name is Pena. Sometimes they have to pull it up underneath that,” I told her, pulling around an old woman going fifty in her maroon Lincoln Towncar.

“I found it, Dr. Mead isn’t on call today, Dr. Shepherd is. I’ll transfer you to…”

I interrupted her.

“No, call Dr. Mead. There should be a note in my chart. My husband refuses to have anyone but Dr. Mead take care of me. Trust me, he won’t let Dr. Shepherd touch me if you call her,” I explained quickly, excited to see the red and blue sign that denoted the emergency entrance of the emergency room up ahead.

I turned into the lot and parked before the next pain hit.

“I’ll try, but that’s not protocol. He won’t even answer if it’s not an emergency…”

I hung up on her.

“Fuck it,” I panted, pulling up Dr. Mead in my contacts and pressing dial.

“This is Dr. Mead,” he answered three rings later.

“This is Nikki Pena Perez. I’ve gone into labor. I’m at the ER right now,” I told him quickly.

“I’ll be right there. Tell the doctors I’ll be there in twenty minutes or less,” he said quickly.

“10-4,” I agreed and hung up my own phone.

I grabbed my purse and bailed out of my car before I tried calling Michael again.

Luckily, this time, he answered. “Yeah?”

He was breathless.

“I’m in labor,” I panted, hoofing it all the way to the ER doors before another pain nearly took my feet out from under me.

“Where are you?” He asked sharply.

“The ER,” I told him, happy that my contraction had left me, but unhappy because another one was right on its heels, which meant that I was getting closer to delivery. “I’m less than a minute apart.”

Something which I proved moments later when another contraction slammed into me.

This time, I really did have to go to my knees because I was sure if I didn’t, I would fall on my face.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” A woman’s voice called from the doorway.

I looked up into Lennox’s familiar eyes.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m having this baby, and my asshole isn’t here yet,” I told her.

Then a commotion from the ER’s entrance startled us both enough that we looked up only to see Michael running out with a bandage covering his eye.

“Michael!” I screamed, panicked now that my eyes caught sight of all the blood staining his shirt.

Michael dropped down to his knees beside me, gathering me into his strong arms as he said, “I’m okay.”

“Isn’t that something I should be saying to you?” I asked, raising my hand to look at the wound being covered by the bandage.

He grimaced and helped me stand by putting both arms underneath mine.

“Suspect knocked me over the head with a wrench,” he explained. “Now tell me about you.”

I panted as another pain hit me and said, “I’m having your baby.”

He laughed.

“Generally, that’s what labor usually indicates,” he teased as he helped me to a wheelchair that Lennox pushed out.

“You have the entire emergency room in an uproar, little lady,” Lennox crowed as she held the chair as I sat.

“Why?” I asked with worry.

What had I done to warrant such a reaction?

“Michael here has everyone scared as hell of him. Something he proved weeks ago when he told the charge nurse that, under no circumstance, was anyone but his parents, him, Dr. Mead or me to touch you when you go into labor without him being in the room. Not to mention he threatened them,” Lennox laughed. “So guess who your personal helper will be until Dr. Mead arrives!”

I shot my husband a look, but he shrugged as if he could care less what everyone thought of him.

“Please, ignore him. He won’t bother anybody,” I shook my head. “Plus, we’re heading up to Labor and Delivery anyway. So we’ll never even see anybody in the emergency room. How’d you get to leave the ER for this?”

“Thank God,” Lennox said as she walked with me to the elevators. “I got to help because your husband decided to have a talk with my boss. She agreed, so here I am!”

I just shook my head and closed my eyes as another pain washed over me.

“Another one?” Michael asked, looking down at his watch.

I nodded, too breathless to speak. “Yeah.”

“A minute and a half apart. Epidural or no epidural?” He asked.

I closed my eyes and tried to block out the pain…but I couldn’t.

Which answered the question he asked rather quickly.

We’d been fighting over the epidural or no epidural question for months now, and I’d told him that I’d have to wait and see.

He’d insisted on a birth plan, and I’d shook my head, telling him that babies did what they wanted to. There was no rhyme or reason. No woman’s pregnancy was the same, and I couldn’t base a birth that hadn’t happened yet on a hunch.

Now, I was sure.

“Epidural,” I insisted through gritted teeth.

I felt like my uterus was trying to force its way out of my vagina.

God, it hurt.

And I was sure that Michael was only getting one kid, because this motherfuckin’ hurt.

“One kid, Michael. You better enjoy this one,” I informed him.

He smiled. “We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t. We really won’t. I’ll never be able to forget how this feels. It’s like razor blades tearing through my uterus, and a pair of needle nose pliers trying to rip the spasming organ out through my cun…” Michael slapped his hand over my mouth as the elevator doors opened.