Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills 6)

And yes, there was definitely a mutant coming out of its ass.

“Oh my God,” I cried, sinking down onto my knees beside him. “Call the vet.”

Beside me, Logan muttered, “Told you you’d find the soul of Satan and devil horns inside him.”

The alien coming out of him dropped down onto the soft cushion of the bed with blood and gunk smeared all over it now.

“What the hell is that?” Will asked, looking over our shoulders at the wriggling ball wrapped in a weird bag.

“Beelzebub?” Logan suggested sounding disgusted, but then he ran the tip of his finger down Prince’s back and moved his hand up to scratch behind his ear. “You’re okay, little guy. We’ll get this fixed for you.”

His hand quickly pulled back, though, when Prince leaned down and started to lick the alien.

“I think—” Charmaine said, laughter clouding what she was trying to say. “I think your Prince is a Princess, guys, and that’s a baby.”

Sure enough, when I squinted, I could make out a kitten inside the bag.

Logan jumped up and ran out of the room.

“Is he gonna puke?” Dad asked Will, both of them staring as another mutant started to emerge from poor Prince.

Before Will could answer, Logan was back with the large black bag he kept in the back of his truck. Opening it up quickly, he pulled out a pair of gloves from a package, put them on, and tore open another one that had a pair of wicked looking scissors in it.

“What’s that for?”

Looking from me down to the scissors, he explained, “I need to open the sac. She’s distracted by the next baby, and I don’t know enough about what’s meant to happen when cats give birth to sit back and wait for her to help this one out.”

Then, leaning in, he pulled a small section back and cut into it. Carefully, he managed to open it enough for the tiny kitten to come into the world fully.

The next one came out, but this one wasn’t in a sac, so I got up and ran to get a towel to wipe them down with. That’s what you were meant to do, right?

By the time I got back, Prince was lying down, still looking agitated but purring into Logan’s hand as he scratched the side of his—no, her—face.

Gently, I brushed the towels down the kittens' backs and watched as they made jerky little movements.

“I’ve got the vet’s office on the phone, Bexley,” Mom called behind me. “He’s in surgery just now, but the nurse says to let Prince keep going and call them if there’s a problem. If you’re really worried, you can take her in, though.”

Still rubbing her head, Logan murmured, “She’s doing fine. I don’t think we should stress her out by moving her if we don’t need to.”

So, that’s what we did. We became feline midwives and surrogate parents, anxiously waiting as each baby dropped out of her until we had three little babies. The problem was, Prince was still straining her stomach like she had more to go.

“Okay, hold her head. I’m going to take a look down the other end and see if I can find out what’s wrong,” Logan sighed, looking sadly down at the cat that had, up until two hours ago, been a pain in his ass. “You’re doing good, little girl. Just keep pushing, and we’ll get there.”

Swapping places with him, I gently swept my thumb up and down between her eyes and watched as Logan put his head down to get a look at what was going on. On the next tense, his expression changed from worry to determination.

“There’s something there when she pushes, so I think a baby’s stuck. Call the nurse and ask her what I need to do.”

Nodding quickly, Mom placed the call and put it on speakerphone.

“Well, Mr. Richards, you can bring her right down to us—”

“We don’t have time. She’s panting rapidly and looks fucking exhausted. Just tell me how to get it out,” he snapped.

So, step by step, she took him through the process. It wasn’t over immediately, but finally, he had it in his hand.

A kitten that wasn’t showing any signs of life.

Cupping it gently in his large hand, he rubbed the baby’s chest with the towel he’d wrapped around it.