“I told you it was different,” I hiss, panting. “I have to take a shower. Help me.”
“You can’t take a shower. You’re having contractions. We have to get to the hospital,” he tells me.
“But we had sex,” I say right before another sharp pain hits me, and I pant through it with him counting. “I’m full of your sperm.”
“Doll face,” he says, “with the stuff that is going to be coming out of you, the least of your worries should be the sperm.” I glare at him. “Now if you don’t get your ass in the fucking truck, I’m going to call Nanny and Gram.”
I gasp. Nanny and my mom came to town two days ago and are staying with Gram till the baby is born, and then they will come and help us. “You wouldn’t dare.” My stomach tenses as another contraction bears down on me and tears form in my eyes. “Oh my god.”
“Sit down on the bed. I need to start timing the contractions.” He runs to pull on his pants and a t-shirt while grabbing me a dress because nothing fucking fits me. “Where the fuck are the keys?” He runs around searching for the keys that are in his hand.When I moan as another one comes, I ask, “Can we go please?” He holds my hand, walking down the stairs with me, helping me in the car and buckling me in. The pain is okay for now, but the minute he starts driving, it gets so much worse.
“Holy shit, this hurts,” I say as another one hits me.
“Fuck, they are like three minutes apart,” he says and starts speeding. “Breathe.”
“What the fuck does it look like I’m do—” I stop and then look down as water fills the front seat. I look up at him. “My water just broke,” I say as the pain rips through me.
“We are there in three minutes,” he says, the twenty-five-minute ride taking only seventeen minutes. He pulls up to the emergency room door. Parking the truck, he rushes around while another contraction hits. This time, it causes me to scream as I hold the dashboard. He comes running with a wheelchair and a nurse. “I’m here,” he says, panting. I look at him and see that my calm, cool man is the opposite of calm and cool. His face is now pale, and his eyes wild. “Are you okay?” he asks while I get out of the truck and into the chair.
“Sir, you can’t leave your vehicle here,” the nurse yells after him.
“I got it.” I hear Walker yell from behind us, seeing Hailey run to my side.
“I’m here,” she says as I burst out crying. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers to me.
“I’m so scared,” I whisper back to her. “If anything happens to me …”
“Not this again,” she starts. “No more fucking emergency birthing videos for you.” She presses the button for the elevator, looking at Gabe. “Why the fuck did you bring them home?”
“Me?” he says. “She took them from the fucking office.” I did. I think back to when he came home and saw me in a puddle of tears in the middle of the living room crying because I knew there was no way to go through that pain without dying.
“Holy shit,” I hiss, my stomach getting so tight I swear it’s going to pop. “Aaahhhhhh.”
“Fuck.” I hear Gabe say, the doors opening and a nurse meeting us there.
“You must be the Walkers. I’m Jackie, and I’m going to be with you guys tonight.”
“It’s like she’s our waitress,” I whisper to Hailey who just smiles.
“Now, follow me.” She smiles at me. “And let’s get you hooked up to a monitor.” They wheel me into a room where Hailey helps me take off my dress and then gasps at the veins in my boobs as I get into a hospital gown.
“It’s like I’m a weird experiment gone wrong,” I tell her. “It’s like neon blue.”
“You’re beautiful,” she says as I groan out with another contraction. When the nurse starts hooking me up to the machine, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat fills the room.
“So this machine is going to monitor the heart rate, and then over here”—she points at the other part of the machine—“that measures your contractions.” And right then, a contraction starts.
“Breathe,” Gabe says from the other side of me, watching the monitor the whole time.
“Really?” I say between clenched teeth. “Thank god, you’re here to tell me that I need to breathe while a human is trying to tear through me.”
“Okay,” he says while the nurse tells me to spread my legs so she can check me. “Looks like you’re seven centimeters.”
“I want drugs,” I say, right before I close my legs and start the heee, heee, hooo, hooo.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Jackie tells me.