Conjugal Visits (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 2)

She didn’t have to finish.

She hadn’t had a chance to get over the attack because I hadn’t allowed her that chance.

“Okay, baby,” I said. “I can’t say that I like it, but it’s not like I have a choice. You need to do what makes you sane. And if that’s it, then that’s it.”

She walked toward me and wrapped her arms around my middle.

The baby once again started kicking.

“I love you, Trouper Aoki.”

Emotion burning in my chest, I rasped, “I love you back, Beckham Aoki.”

CHAPTER 18

When she’s had a rough day, give her a rough night.

-Dating tips

TROUP

Two months later

“Wake up, motherfucker,” I heard, then the sound of a baton slamming against the metal bars blocking me in.

My eyes snapped open, and I could do nothing but stare at the concrete ceiling.

“I said wake up!” the bar bang sounded again.

I rolled myself out of the bed, fucking hating the motherfucker, Brydens, that was doing the pounding of the bars, and stared through the brightness at the man with the flashlight that was aimed at my face.

I got up and slipped into my clothes, unsure what the hell was going on.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

I looked at my roommate’s empty bunk and then moved out.

My roommate had found greener pastures when he’d been released last month, and they hadn’t replaced him.

I was all for that.

It made me supremely happy.

“Hurry up,” Brydens urged. “Don’t got all night.”

He actually did.

The night shift was the easier of the two shifts since all the inmates were in their cells for the night.

I didn’t bother to disagree verbally with him, though.

It was best to just leave Brydens alone.

He wound me through the hallways until we reached where we were supposed to be.

“Have fun,” Brydens snapped as he gave me a good shove in the direction of the Warden Stanley’s office.

“Close the motherfuckin’ door,” Warden Stanley ordered.

I did, unsure whether he was talking to me or Brydens.

Then Warden Stanley gestured toward the couch.

“Got something for you,” he said as he started to do shit on his computer.

I sat, and then gasped when he said, “Your wife is in labor. She all but begged me in the middle of the night to come up here and allow you to connect via webcam.”

I felt a churning assault on my stomach.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “Is she okay?”

The warden’s eyes went soft for a few short seconds before he said, “She’s fine from what I could tell.”

Then a blue screen replaced the black screen on his computer.

“There,” he said. “Now we wait for her to answer.”

Nerves wracked my body as I waited for the video chat to connect.

And when it did, it was to see Beckham’s face on the screen.

She was sweaty, looked utterly pissed, and it was aimed all at me.

“This is all your fault,” she growled as she stared at me, eyes firing. “I can’t believe you got me pregnant, Trouper Aoki!”

For the first time since she’d left last month, I smiled.

“Hey, baby.”

“I’m ten centimeters dilated,” she gasped. “This is my doula, Arlene.”

I didn’t take my gaze away from my wife’s sweaty face.

“Are you in pain?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “This feels like the seventh circle of hell.”

I would not laugh.

But I wanted to.

“What about your family?” I asked, glancing around the room.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I wanted you to see,” she whispered. “If they were here, it would’ve been a madhouse, because my…”

She paused mid-sentence and cried out, hunching over her belly.

“Push, Beckham,” the doula, Arlene, ordered.

I assumed that Beckham did, because she curled up with a purpose this time and her face went red.

She was having my baby.

Right now.

And her parents weren’t there with her because of me.

I felt like an utter loser.

I should never have taken this away from her.

I covered my face with my hands and prayed for the first time in what felt like a long time.

I prayed that she would make it through this. That nothing bad would happen. That both her and the baby would be okay.

That nothing would happen to her while she was alone.

I opened my eyes to her falling backward onto the bed she was in. She looked over at me with exhaustion in her eyes.

“One and done, Troup. One and done.”

I laughed at that, wishing I could pull her into my arms and place a kiss onto her cheek. Her upturned lips.

“Next time, I’ll be there,” I rasped. “It’ll be different.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “You are with me, Troup.”

Her words made the raging fire inside of my heart calm just a small amount.

Enough that I could enjoy this without tainting it with my foul mood.

Fifteen minutes of pushing later, and she was in the home stretch.

“Come on, baby,” I encouraged, leaning forward so that I could get as close as I could. “Last push. Get him out.”

And that was exactly what she did.