“Keep pushing! You’re doing great!” The doctor kept up with the encouragement. I continued to offer nonverbal encouragement.
There was a strange liquidy sound and a high-pitched cry. My eyes were glued to the wet little form in the doctor’s hands. Minimal wiping, and he was placed on her chest. It was then that I realized she had on nothing but a sports bra.
He was so small resting on her.
Her hand released mine and Lisa’s. I immediately missed the warmth of her fingers in mine. She reverently touched him from head to toe as she pressed kiss after kiss to his damp head. The soft words she spoke to him were too low for me to hear, but the love on her face was unmistakable.
They let them bond for a few minutes before placing two clamps on the cord. There was a big gap between them.
“Dad, do you want to cut the cord?” My head whipped in the direction of whoever had asked that. Shock washed over me.
“Me?” I asked with wide eyes and a hand splayed over my heart.
“Well, unless there’s another dad in here.” The nurse smirked.
Not wanting to admit I’d lied, I took the proffered scissors and with a deep inhale placed them where they guided me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’d done some really crazy shit in my life. Things I wouldn’t discuss with a soul, things that made my mother slap her forehead, things that should’ve killed me. But none of them affected me the way cutting that cord did.
“Shit, it’s hard!” I said in surprise. It was like cutting through a fucking bungee cord. Like bicycle tube on the outside with a harder cord inside that I wasn’t expecting. It was the strangest thing I’d ever experienced. The staff laughed, and I glanced up briefly before refocusing on my task.
Not like it was difficult. They had it clamped on both sides, so it wasn’t like I could mess it up. It was just weird.
A little bit of blood got on me during the process. Lost in thought, I stared at it. Little red splatters on my skin. For two-point-two seconds I was transported back to the dusty outskirts of a small village in Iraq. Heart pounding harder with each step closer to the buildings, I wasn’t prepared then either.
“Jaxon? Jaxon!”
Shaking my head, I blinked and refocused my vision. The nurses quickly looked away from my gaze, and I prayed I hadn’t said anything out loud. Sometimes I did, and I hated it.
Unsure of how long I’d been lost in the past, I clenched my jaw and stared at Avery.
She was looking at me strangely. While she seemed rejuvenated now that the birth was over, she looked rough. Funny thing was, she still looked beautiful. There was no denying that.
Coming out of my haze, I realized one of the nurses was standing in front of me with a tentative smile. “Do you want to hold him?”
“You don’t have to,” Avery whispered from the bed at my side.
Maybe it was my slightly less than cognizant state. Maybe it was the highly charged emotion in the room. Or maybe I couldn’t really pinpoint why, but I reached out and she settled the burrito wrapped bundle in my arms.
He barely weighed anything.
I held him a moment as I stared at the nurse—afraid of a tiny human for some ridiculous reason.
Taking a deep breath, I looked down.
The breath I’d taken was ripped from my body. My heart and lungs caught in a vise, I fought to breathe. For a moment, the room swam around me as I stayed focused on the small baby in my arms.
There was no need for a paternity test, though I’d get one if she wanted.
The little bundle in my inked-up arms was an exact replica of me as a baby.
Holy shit balls.
“Hold On Me”—Artifas
“We don’t need the test,” I heard him say in a barely discernible voice. Right before he sat in the chair by my bed.
“Excuse me?”
Vivid blue eyes tore away from my son to meet mine. His inability to swallow was evident from where I lay, exhausted but happy. He choked out, “He’s mine.”
“Well, forgive me if after the reception I received the other day, I want to get one anyway. I’ll be damned if later you try to say he isn’t yours.” My eyes narrowed as I stared at him.
“Jesus, woman. Even when I’m trying to do the right thing, you’re determined to piss me off.”
A throat cleared, and I looked over to find Lisa giving us both a sharp glare. The nurse gently reached for my son to return him to my arms.
After an unsuccessful attempt at breastfeeding, I lay back in the bed with my baby snuggled up next to me. Talk about feeling like a failure. It was basic human functions 101. Something a woman’s body was designed to do naturally. Yet, I couldn’t.
Lisa kissed my head. “It will work out, don’t beat yourself up.”
“I know,” I said, though I didn’t really believe it.
“Well, I’m going to take off to give you two some time to talk. Do you need me to grab anything else besides your bag?” The thought of being left alone with Gunny had my heart hammering. I wasn’t in the mood to fight with him, but I knew she was right. We had a lot to discuss.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Lisa left the room after giving Gunny a hug. Shortly after she left, the nurse came in to get my son to do his assessments.
“So what are you going to name him?” Gunny asked after they’d closed the door.
“I don’t know,” I was embarrassed to admit.
“Well, don’t you think you should figure that out? I mean, we can’t keep calling him our son. He needs a name.” He sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t blame him. How hard was it to choose a name? Except the truth of the matter was, it was damn hard for me.
“It’s such a huge decision. What if I give him a name that other kids make fun of? Or what if I give him a name that’s too common and there are five of them in his class? Or the opposite would be that it’s too unique and he hates it.” I sighed.
A low chuckle sounded, and I glared at him.
“I think you’re overthinking this. Do you have any names picked out at all?”
“I’ve been calling him Brutus, Luigi, Ebenezer, and George.”
He raised a brow and shook his head. “Uh, no.”
“Okay, well. I’ve thought about Malachi, Tristan, or Nicholas.”
“Those are doable,” he said with a relieved sigh.
“Yeah, but I don’t know if I really like any of them.” My brow furrowed in indecision.
He palmed his face.
We decided on Tristan.
We also decided that Gunny would bring me home the next day and that he would help me with expenses. He volunteered to watch Tristan so I could go to class once I was feeling able, but I was nervous. After all, I didn’t really know him. Except he had as much right to watch our son as I did.
“Okay, well, I’ll be back in the morning. Do you want me to bring you anything else?” Lisa had dropped off the small bag of essentials I’d packed in preparation of my hospital stay.
Biting my lip, I wondered if it was too much to ask. “Um, could you bring me a couple breakfast tacos?”
“Yes, I can do that. Anything else?” He was on his phone, and I wasn’t sure if he was texting someone, making a note for himself, or hell, maybe checking his damn Facebook.
“Nope,” I said with a roll of my eyes when he still hadn’t looked at me.
Finally, he raised his gaze to mine, and I was hit with the bright blue of his eyes. Though I didn’t let it show, he took my breath away. It would be easy to fall for him if he wasn’t such an ass. Except since he showed up and encouraged me through the delivery, then openly accepted paternity, I was finding it hard to continue seeing him as such. Telling myself he could never be more than Tristan’s father, and maybe a friend, I hardened my heart.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you in the morning.” For a moment he stood there as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. It was awkward, and my face warmed as we sat staring at each other.
&nbs
p; “Um, thanks for being here. See you tomorrow.”
He stood there a moment longer, looking like he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Then he gave me a half smile and left.
The nurse brought my son in and handed him to me. As she checked my vitals and did a quick assessment, I held him close. As I stared at his angelic sleeping face, I trailed a fingertip along the curve of his cheek.
“Momma will always keep you safe. No one will hurt you, and I’ll never let you feel unloved. I love you to the moon and back.”
His lips pursed and he nuzzled his face into me. My heart was near to bursting.
“Is that everything?” Gunny asked as he set Tristan into my lap. He was securely buckled into the infant car seat Lisa, José, and Sandy, the other waitress had bought for me.
“I think that’s it.” After all, I hadn’t packed much.
“Well, then I’ll go get my truck and pull up out front.” He shuffled in place for a minute. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he held his tongue and left the room.
“Okay, you two. Let’s get you down to your handsome prince. Don’t worry, most new dads—and moms—are nervous at first.” The nurse on duty had no idea that we weren’t together, and I was too tired to correct her.
By the time we made it to the loading zone at the front doors, he was waiting with the truck running. He’d jumped out and opened the back door as the nurse put the brakes on the wheelchair.
“Do you want to ride up front or in the back with him?” I was a little touched by his thoughtfulness, but I told myself not to read too much into it.
“I’ll ride in back with him,” I replied.
With a nod, he carefully lifted Tristan in his chair and placed it in the back seat. Though he was trying to act unaffected, I saw a softening of his hard expression as he secured the seat. Allowing him to seem compassionate was dangerous, so I averted my gaze until he stepped back.
The nurse helped me stand, and they both assisted me up into the truck. Truth be told, I was glad for their help, because it was quite a stretch to get up there. I’d never seen his truck before, and I tried not to appear too nosey as I looked around.
It was a nice, newer Ford. The fact that I knew so little about the man who had fathered a child with me sent anxiety racing through my veins. There was so much potential for disaster, the least of which was his affiliation with the Demented Sons MC. What kind of shitty irony was that, anyway?
“Can you remind me how to get to your house?” he asked as he looked at me in the rearview mirror. My cheeks heated thinking about the last time he stepped into my home.
After rattling off my address, I focused on my tiny son. It still amazed me how perfect he was. His eyes seemed to study me as he sucked on the pacifier they’d given him. Little fingers curled around mine as soon as I placed it in his hand.
Warmth surged through me, and I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “You ready to go home, big guy?”
Of course, he didn’t answer but continued to stare at me as if I held all the answers in the world. Slowly, his eyelids grew heavier, and by the time we got home he was dozing.
My boobs were tingly and heavy by the time we got to the house, and I knew I’d have to feed him soon. Even if hardly anything came out.
The door opened, and Gunny held out a large tattooed hand to help me down. As my fingers curled around his, the similarity to what I’d experienced with Tristan wasn’t lost on me. The difference was the feelings Gunny’s touch produced in comparison.
Gunny brought the carrier and my bag up to the door and waited patiently for me to open it. The proximity of his beautiful form to my back was making me struggle to get the key in the lock. Which was absolutely ridiculous. Despite how gorgeous he was, I despised him. Didn’t I?
“Do you need help with that?” he asked. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught his smirk, and it fueled my ire. It was also a reminder of why I disliked his ass.
“I’ve got it,” I snapped. The door swung open, and I stepped inside, avoiding the sagging spot in the floor. My landlord had been promising to fix it for three months.
“Jesus!” he spouted off at the same time as I covered my nose. The stench that hit me was putrid and I knew he smelled it too. “What the fuck is that?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Moving from window to window to get some air circulating, I fought gagging.
“Fucking A!” he exclaimed, and I spun to see him nearly drop the carrier as he stumbled. “What the hell happened to your floor?”
“I’m not sure. The landlord is supposed to fix it.” He set our now sleeping son on my loveseat that had seen better days. Then he set about helping me open windows.
“Avery. There’s no lock on this window,” he announced as he leaned over the loveseat to open the living room window.
“He’s going to fix that too,” I replied, though he’d been saying that since I moved in. I’d meant to do it myself but I never seemed to remember when I went to the damn store. I fought to open the kitchen window; I forgot how bad that one always stuck.
Tristan chose that moment to start squalling. Rushing back in from the kitchen, I saw his little fists quake with each breath he took between screams. My hands fumbled awkwardly with the buckles as I tried to free him.
“I’m going to go look for that smell,” Gunny muttered as I sat down and struggled to free my breast for my seemingly starving son.
“I’m hurrying, little man, hold on to your britches!” I teased him as he rooted around. Within moments he’d ravenously latched on, causing me to wince. Thankful for the lactation specialist who’d come in to help me figure that shit out, I stroked my son’s cheek. With shuddering breaths, he stared at me and suckled as he clutched my boob.
“I think I found….”
Looking up at his voice from the doorway, I saw him avert his eyes and swallow hard. My eyes rolled at his evident discomfort.
“It’s just a boob. Jesus. What did you find?” I asked.
He cleared his throat. “Um, I found the source, well, sources of the smell. The trash that I set out back, and this.” He held up a mousetrap with a dead mouse. I shuddered in revulsion. Those things were horrible, and I had to work up the courage to pick up the sprung traps when they caught one of the little bastards. I usually hooked them with a wire hanger and tossed them trap and all in the trash.
“Gross.” My lip curled.
He stood there with the mousetrap dangling from his fingertip as he appeared to debate opening his mouth.
“Avery. Your back door barely closes. Your food consists of a questionable half-gallon of milk, a can of soup, some ramen, and a moldy loaf of bread. Not to mention the missing lock on the window and the floor you might fall through.” Everything he pointed out about my home set my teeth on edge.
“I planned to go grocery shopping but I went into labor. And my landlord is aware of the other things.” Embarrassment heated my cheeks. Being on a very limited income, I was doing the best I could.
“You cannot think this is a good environment for a newborn,” he said as he folded his arms across his chest.
My heart dropped, and I feared what he was implying.
“Alone”—I Prevail
Her face went white at my announcement.
“What the hell are you trying to say?” she demanded. It took everything I had to maintain eye contact and not drop my gaze to her exposed tit. It hadn’t seemed like that long ago that I was doing very dirty things to them and it was a little disconcerting to watch a baby sucking on them.
My baby.
Fuck.
“You can’t stay here.” It came out much harsher than I intended, but the whole boob thing was fucking with me.
“Well, last I checked, you don’t get to tell me what to do, so fuck off,” she snapped as she brought our baby up to her shoulder. Her patting on his back elicited a massive burp that shocked me almost more than the dusky nipple that was peeking out from the side of my son’s tiny leg
.
When she exposed her other breast and tucked the first one away as Tristan fed, I fought the completely inappropriate thoughts that swarmed within my head.
Uncertainty warred with my determination. Imagine my surprise when I blurted out, “Look, you can stay at my place if you want.”
I froze.
She froze.
Then she choked out something I couldn’t understand.
“What?”
“I’m not moving in with you!” she finally forced out.
A frazzled hand ran through my hair. “Look, I’m not asking you to sleep in my bed. I’m not asking you to fuck me. I have two spare bedrooms. There’s nothing in them but boxes I’m storing. It’s shit that I can put other places. Or get rid of. You’ll save money on rent, and it’s damn near brand-new. I mean, it’s a trailer, but it’s new. The guy that owns the few acres I live on bought five single-wide trailers and rents them on the land. I have a decent-sized fenced yard, too. It doesn’t have to be long-term. I promise.” Knowing I was rambling, I shut my mouth.
“Don’t cuss around Tristan,” she deadpanned.
“Seriously? Says the woman who said ‘fuck’ two minutes ago? And with everything I just said, you’re worrying about me cussing in front of our two-day-old son?” Arms flung out, I sputtered. I couldn’t believe her.
“Babies pick up an amazing amount of information. He might be storing those words away for later,” she said with narrowed eyes.
“Fine.” I clenched my jaw. Breathing deeply, I tried to calm my frustration. At least until she pulled him off her tit to burp him again. Fucking motherfucker. It wasn’t the first tit I’d seen. I’d even seen hers before. Up close and personal. Maybe that was why I was having a hard time with seeing it out like that.
Jax and Jokers: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel Page 6