Trouble in Hell (Hell Night 1)

“Oh, God, Susan. This really hurts.”

She grabs a pillow and lays it behind me. “Lay down. I’m going to take your bottoms off and check to see if you’re dilated.”

I do as she says. My hands rest over my stomach, unconsciously rubbing it. I lift my butt when she grabs my pajama shorts and panties and pulls them down. Under normal circumstances, I’d be embarrassed, but pain makes me lose any inhibitions.

Knowing what’s coming next, I lift my feet to the bed and spread my legs, putting my goods on full display. I jerk when I feel Susan’s hand on my thigh.

“It’s alright,” she says soothingly. “Just relax. This’ll only

take a moment.”

I keep my eyes on the ceiling when I feel her fingers probing me down below. There’s a bit of pressure, but it’s not too uncomfortable. My stomach tightens, indicating another cramp is coming. I grit my teeth and fist the blanket at my sides.

“Alright, Remi, you’re six centimeters dilated. We need to get you to Dr. Trayce’s office. We’ll be more prepared there.”

“No!” I demand. “Make it stop. It’s too early.”

She stands and pulls the gloves off, her eyes meeting mine. She comes to the bed and helps me sit up.

“It can’t be stopped. Your water broke and you’re too far along.”

Tears gather in my eyes, and I plead with her. “Please. I’ve seen in the movies where they give the woman something to stop labor and put her on bed rest. It’s too early. He can’t come yet.”

I’m full on crying now. I don’t even care that I sound ridiculous. All I can think about is it’s too early. My baby needs more time to grow.

She grabs my hand and pushes my hair back from my sweaty face.

“Sweetie, this can’t be stopped. Many women have babies this early. You’re a little over thirty-five weeks. Survival rate is in the upper nineties.”

Her words lessen some of the anxiety roaring through me, but I’m still terrified. What if something’s wrong with him? What if he’s not fully developed? What if he needs special care? We’re not anywhere close to a hospital. Susan isn’t even a doctor. She’s a nurse practitioner. While I’ve heard they’re as close to being a doctor as a person can get without being a doctor, what if something happens that she doesn’t know how to handle?

She grabs her phone, presses something, then holds it to her ear. Her eyes stay on mine as she waits.

“Can you meet me at Dr. Trayce’s office? I’m gonna need help with a delivery.” She waits for a moment while whoever’s on the other side says something. “Thank you. We’ll be there in less than ten.”

After she hangs up, she fiddles with her phone some more before bringing it back to her ear. Whoever she’s calling now must not answer because she pulls it from her ear not even ten seconds later.

I grip Susan’s hand as she helps me get up from the bed. “Please just take me to the hospital.”

“It’s better if we go straight to Dr. Trayce’s office,” she says as we slowly shuffle down the hallway. “Many babies have been delivered there.”

“Please,” the plea leaves my lips on a whisper. “I’m scared.”

She stops at the counter to grab her purse. Once it’s on her shoulder, she turns to face me.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. Your contractions are about three and a half minutes apart, so we may not even make it to the hospital. It’s better to deliver at the office than on the side of the road.”

Another cramp comes, worse than the last and my knees almost buckle. I suck in air and release it through my nose, trying to breath like one of the nurses back home told me to do during labor.

I know what Susan says is right. I’ve heard horror stories of women having a baby on the side of the road and that’s the last thing I want to happen. It still doesn’t take away my worry, but I don’t really have a choice.

“Will you—” I grit my teeth as the pain subsides. “Will you call Trouble?”

He was supposed to be back a couple of days ago, but Susan said he got caught up with something else that held him away longer. I want him here. I know Susan is qualified, but I’ll feel more comfortable with Trouble here too.

“I’ve already tried calling him once. It went straight to voicemail. He may be somewhere where he doesn’t get signal. I’ll try again once we get to the office.”

Dread fills my stomach and my worry spikes.