Expecting it All (Punishment Pit Book 7)

by Livia Grant

  The second Rachel left the bathroom, he knew something was wrong. She was pale and looked skittish.

  "What is it? Are you okay?"

  When she didn't answer right away he lifted her chin, making her look into his eyes. He saw tears threatening to fall. "Talk to me, Rach. What's wrong?"

  "I think... well, I thought I had an accident, but I actually think my water might be breaking. I had to put on a pad, but even now I feel like I need to go back to the bathroom." She tried to put him at ease by teasing, "I guess you were right after all about needing the diaper," but her delivery fell flat.

  She moved to turn back into the ladies' room, but Derek clamped her arm, holding her close. "What do you mean, your water might be breaking? Like as in, you might be going into labor? That kind of water breaking?"

  He was babbling. He knew it. If Rachel hadn't looked so fucking scared, he would have laughed at himself.

  Get a grip, Parker. Your wife needs you to hold it together, man.

  Derek took a deep breath before grabbing her hand. The fact that his own hand was trembling pissed him off. He led her back towards the conference room and straight to the front, where there was a line of expecting couples waiting to talk to their instructor, an OB nurse.

  They waited almost a minute, but when the line didn't move because there was some asshole up in front talking about the likelihood his unborn kid was going to be president one day, Derek couldn't take it anymore. With a final glance sideways, noticing the fear on Rachel's face, he barged ahead.

  "Sorry, but I need to talk to Ms. Johnson." He didn't miss the evil eye the other waiting couples gave him, but he couldn't give a shit.

  "Excuse me, Mr. Parker, but I think these other—" The nurse tried to stop him from jumping the line.

  He cut her off. "Rachel went to the ladies' room and she thinks her water broke. What do we do?"

  The nurse smiled kindly, but he didn't miss the fact that she was humoring him as if he were a neophyte. "I'm sure Mrs. Parker just had a bit of an accident. That's quite common this late in a pregnancy. I know you're the couple closest to delivery, since you waited so long to come for your class…" She paused, as if silently reproving him for putting off something as important as childbirth class. "But you still have several—"

  She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Rachel let out a long groan just as a rush of bloody water gushed to the carpeted floor between her feet. Every single one of the expecting parents froze, unsure whether they were really seeing what they were seeing. They had just learned about the remote possibility of a mother's water breaking in public, and how it was more often broken by the doctor at the hospital. More than one accusatory look was thrown at Ms. Johnson, as if she had been lying.

  Thankfully, the nurse took charge. "It looks like you're closer to delivery than we thought. Mr. Parker, I need you to help your wife to a chair. Then you'll need to go out into the hall to the nearest nurse's station and tell them you want a wheelchair and some towels. We need to get you up to the OB wing." She smiled brightly, as if every word she had just said hadn't just scared the living shit out of him. "Congratulations, it looks like you're going to be parents very soon."

  Derek felt faint. He was supposed to have two more weeks. They didn't have Rachel's bag packed for the hospital. He hadn't had time to read all the literature they had been given at today's class. He’d stupidly put off talking to his friend James, a doctor, about what to expect during delivery. He was supposed to do the show tonight at The Pit. This just wasn't acceptable. He wasn't ready.

  "Oooo.... Owie." Rachel was getting paler by the minute. She was leaning on him heavily while he stood there in shock. Only when her hand squeezed his forearm to get his attention did Derek finally snap out of his daze.

  "Owie? What do you mean 'owie'? Are you in pain?" He sounded like a pansy, his voice cracked with panic.

  She flashed him a weak smile. "I wouldn't call it pain. I just feel kinda weird." It was his lovely sub—his little girl—who helped him calm down and pull it together. She reached up to brush his face gently, a smile on her face. "I'm fine, but I would like to sit down. I think you should do what the nurse said."

  Of course he should. Another soon-to-be-father took pity on him and took off to get the wheelchair and towels, while Derek steered his wife to a nearby row of chairs. The nurse was calling for housekeeping to come clean up the mess on the floor. Several other mothers rallied around Rachel to ask whether they could do anything to help.

  "If you could go grab my purse and our coats from over by where we were sitting, that would be great," Rachel said sweetly.

  Derek wondered how she was holding it so together. Hell, she was even smiling.

  He made a conscious decision to move into Dom mode. It was when he felt the most in control, and if ever there was a time in his life when he needed disciplined control, he suspected it was going to be during the next twenty-four hours.

  They met an OB nurse on the way to the Labor & Delivery department. It was sheer luck they had found each other, considering they had to weave their way through the mammoth, confusing, suburban hospital.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Parker?" the young nurse asked without hesitation. Derek guessed it was the terror on his soon-to-be-father face and Rachel's protruding baby-bump that were her first clues.

  Rachel answered for them. "Yes."

  "I'm Jessica. I'm one of the OB nurses who will be taking care of you today. The nurse’s station closest to where you were in class today called to let us know you were on your way, so I came to help you not get lost. Let's get you settled in your room, shall we, and then we can examine you to see how far along you are. When was the last time you saw your doctor?"

  Derek pushed the wheelchair, in awe of his wife who calmly answered question after question as they weaved through the halls of the hospital. The only hint that she was uncomfortable was her frequent squirming in the wheelchair.

  Jessica stopped to badge into the locked double doors marked 'Labor & Delivery'. The doors opened automatically, allowing him to push the wheelchair into a very non-hospital-looking space. They weaved past several small waiting area nooks before arriving at the nurses' station, the hub of the department. Their nurse stopped long enough to check a whiteboard with room assignments. Things got real when Derek saw the large PARKER assigned to the blue room.

  Another nurse was prepping supplies when they wheeled into Rachel's room. "Ah, here you are," he said. "I'm Kyle. Jessica and I are going to take good care of you. Why don't we start by getting you out of your wet clothes?"

  The next ten minutes passed by in a blur of activity. Derek was grateful for the experienced people taking care of the most important people in his life. He sat, shell-shocked, feeling more useless by the minute.

  He was almost relieved when an elderly woman wearing a nametag identifying her as Nancy Remus arrived with a laptop. "Mr. Parker? I'm from admissions. We need to do some paperwork and gather some information on your wife. Would you be able to assist me?"

  "Er… sure." He could only utter a noncommittal, monosyllabic response.

  She smiled a knowing smile. "We can do this here, but sometimes it's easier to take care of things out in the solarium down the hall."

  Derek didn't want to leave Rachel's side. He looked down at her pale face, and was about to say they needed to stay in the room when Jessica piped up. "We need to check your wife's cervix, and ask her some personal questions that we prefer the husband waits outside for."

  Derek didn't like the apologetic look on the nurse's face as she said that. What could they possibly need to ask his wife that he wasn't allowed to hear?

  It was Rachel who solved the mystery. "It's okay. Dr. Taylor warned me about this. They need to ask questions to make sure you aren't abusing me."

  "What the fuck?" Derek panicked. With his luck, they'd mistake the BDSM lifestyle they lived as abuse.

  In spite the stress of the moment, his submissive grinned at him. "It will be f
ine."

  The admissions lady was speaking again. "It's quite peaceful in the solarium, and many fathers appreciate knowing it's there for when you might need short breaks. Want to head in that direction?"

  "Er… sure." Now he was repeating said monosyllabic response.

  Ms. Remus had been right. The greenroom was bright and sunny, courtesy of the huge skylights. Several seating areas with benches and tables were interspersed in the area, surrounded by abundant foliage and flowers. He felt better the second he sat down.

  "Now, this shouldn't take too long." And with that, Ms. Remus launched into a game of fifty questions. Twenty minutes later she stood, the admissions process complete. "I've emailed you a copy of the paperwork, but I'll also have a hard copy sent up to your wife's room." She held her hand out. "Congratulations again, Mr. Parker. I'm sure you'll be an excellent father."

  She left before Derek could ask her how the hell she could know that, considering she'd only just met him.

  He sat alone in a daze for several long minutes before pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He found the number he needed in his frequent contacts list and pressed the name of the person he needed to talk to more than anyone else.

  "Hey, I didn't expect to talk to you today." Lukus Mitchell's steady voice was an instant comfort in Derek's suddenly topsy-turvy world.

  "Yeah, well, that makes two of us. You're not gonna like this, but I can't do the shows tonight."

  "What the fuck? We had a deal. We're already on the road. We have dinner reservations and everything," Lukus said.

  So maybe talking to Lukus isn't going to help me feel better after all.

  "Will you shut the hell up!" Derek did not need this shit. "Rachel's in the hospital."

  There was dead air until Lukus muttered, "Well, shit. Is she okay?"

  "Oh yeah, she's fine. Me, on the other hand... I'm a fucking mess. She's in labor, Lukus. We're having the baby."

  "Wait. What? Like now?"

  "Right now. Her water broke. They're getting her settled in her room right this damn minute. I'm not ready for this. I'm supposed to have more time."

  Leave it to his best friend to chuckle at a time like this. "Yeah, well, I don't think it works like that."

  Derek could hear Tiffany's excited questions in the background and Lukus filling her in.

  An awkward reticence hung on the call before Lukus proved he really did know what he was going through. "Listen, you need to hold it together. Everything is going to be fine. Women have babies every day. You're in the right place. Do you like her doctor?"

  "I guess," Derek said.

  "Then trust him."

  "Would you trust strangers with Tiffany's health?" Derek knew Lukus's feelings for his fiancée were as strong as Derek's were for his wife.

  "I would. You and I... we both suffer from the same problem. We're used to being in control. Losing control sucks, but you don't have a choice today. We know jack-shit about medicine, so you've done the next best thing. You have her in a safe place with people who know what they're doing."

  "I suppose so."

  "Don't worry about The Pit. Don't worry about Titan. Don't worry about anything but Rachel and the kid. I'll take care of everything else. Do you need anything?"

  "Not that I can think of right now, but Lukus... thanks, man. I was losing it."

  His best friend's laughter helped calm him. "Well, I remember a time not too long ago when I was the one who was 'losing my shit' as you called it. You talked me off the ledge that day. Glad I could repay the favor. Keep in touch. We'll want updates."

  "Yeah, well, they tell me it could take a long time, since it's her first."

  "I wouldn't trade places with you today to save my life," Lukus admitted.

  "Gee, thanks. Later."

  Derek's next call was to his friend James. The men didn’t know each other that well considering it had been James and Lukus that had been college roommates, but Derek had gotten to know the doctor over the years through the occasional poker night and crossing paths at The Pit. He was the only person Derek knew that had the trifecta of knowledge he needed at this critical moment. James was a medical doctor, a father, and a Dom to his submissive wife.

  "Hey, I can't really talk. Can I call you later?" James was talking softly, as if he had to keep his voice down.

  "Rachel is in labor," Derek said.

  He heard a shuffling at the other end of the phone before James was back on the line. "Congratulations. You're gonna be a real daddy soon."

  "Knock it off. I need you to tell me the truth. Rachel is going to be okay, right? And the kid... it's two weeks early. Is he in danger?"

  "Women do this every day. They're both going to be fine." James's voice sounded condescending.

  "I know that, dumbass. I don't care about other women. I care about Rachel, and I'm responsible for that baby."

  "Deep breath. She'll be fine. He'll be fine. You need to stay calm," James said.

  "What if I can't do this?"

  "You can do this, and you will. There's no other choice. The baby needs to come out. And anyway, fatherhood is amazing."

  James should know. He was the father of twin, six-year-old sons.

  "But she's going to be in so much pain," Derek said.

  "She'll forget it as soon as she holds her baby."

  "Tell me about this epidural thingy. Is it safe?"

  "Perfectly. I'm no OBGYN, but Mary had an epidural."

  Derek took a calming breath. "Fine. I guess I can handle it as long as it's a regular birth, but I'll never be able to handle a C-section if she needs one."

  "Listen, I hate to tell you this, buddy, but you're going to handle whatever the hell you have to. I know you're used to being in control, but you need to just go along for the ride on this one. Hand over control to the doctors and nurses, be there to support Rach, and do whatever the hell they tell you to do. Let the professionals do their job."

  That sounded like good advice. The same advice Lukus had given.

  "Yeah. You're right. Thanks, man."

  "Check in when you can. Mary and I will be thinking of you two."

  By the time Derek got back to Rachel's room, they had her changed into a hospital gown and sitting up in bed. She was hooked up to a fetal monitor they had just learned about in class that day.

  "Hi, baby." He was impressed that his voice was calm. Calmer than he felt, anyway.

  "Hi Da—Derek." Rachel glanced sideways at the nearby nurse taking inventory of the items in the supply cabinet along the far wall.

  She looked pale.

  "How are you feeling, baby? What can I get for you?" he asked.

  "I'm thirsty."

  He grinned. "Thirsty. That's something I can fix."

  He was returning with a small cup of ice water when the monitor next to the bed lit up, the faint but fast heartbeats of his young son sounding in the room. Rachel was grabbing her baby-bump, and it took Derek a few seconds to realize she was having a contraction.

  He held her hand until the contraction ended about one minute later. She smiled weakly when it was over. "That wasn't so bad."

  Derek began to relax. Maybe things would be okay, after all.

  Six hours and seventy-three contractions later, Derek was frazzled. He didn't know how his baby girl was staying so calm. The only good thing about the slow progress was that he'd had time to settle into the routine.

  He'd called their parents, who were on their way to camp out in the waiting room, despite how slowly things were moving. He'd tried to convince them to stay home until they got closer to the birth, but they wouldn't hear of it.

  He'd even had time to grab some soup and crackers for Rach and himself. Since she was a low risk birth, they allowed her to eat to keep up her strength. Being able to feed her, help her to the potty, and even give her a quick sponge bath, helped keep him calm.

  But by the time they hit midnight, Rachel was a mess. Dr. Taylor had been in to check on her hours before and had gone home,
promising to come back when he was needed. He had offered to order up an epidural for her so she could get some rest, but Rachel had refused, stating that she wanted to do things as drug free as possible. While Derek admired her, it took all of his self-control to stop from overriding her decision and forcing her to get the pain-relieving option.

  By three in the morning, the contractions were still three minutes apart. She was progressing slowly and finally dilating faster, but at this rate, they were still many hours away. There were no words to describe how much Derek hated seeing Rachel in pain and not being able to do more than hold her hand, count with her, help her pace their small room when her back pain got too bad, and feed her fucking ice chips.

  After a particularly long and painful contraction, an exhausted Rachel finally broke down and started crying, begging him to make it stop.

  "Please, Daddy... I can't do this anymore. I just want to be your little girl. What was I thinking?" Her vulnerable tears cut him. His baby had been in labor for over twelve hours, and the end wasn't in sight yet.

  Derek looked down at the love of his life, curled up on her side, in pain, drained and feeling defeated. For the first time since her water broke, he finally felt as though he knew what to do. His baby needed him to take charge.

  "Nurse, get the anesthesiologist back. It's time for that epidural."

  Rachel looked up at him through her watery eyes. "No, Daddy. I wanted to do it without drugs. My sisters all did it without an epidural."

  He swished her sweaty hair back from her face, stroking her gently. "Well, good for them, but that's not what's best for you, baby girl. I checked with James and he says it's safe. Mary had one with the twins. You're worn out and need to get some rest. This will let you have a nap for a few hours, so you can wake up ready to push when the time comes."

  "But Daddy—"

  "Daddy knows best." He leaned down to kiss her forehead and, when he pulled back, relief shone in her eyes. She had needed him to make the hard call.

  "Yes, Daddy. I love you," she murmured.

  "Not as much as I love you, baby."

  He didn't miss the curious looks from the OB nurse who was in the room with them at the time of the exchange, but Derek didn't really give a shit whether she approved of their lifestyle or not. All that mattered to him was that his baby was in pain and needed help.