“Oh God,” she cries out, pushing so hard I’m surprised she doesn’t burst a blood vessel. When she does it again seconds later, the head slides further out.
“Come on, it’s nearly here,” I encourage her, gripping her knees.
Blowing out a breath, she then draws in another, before pushing with so much force the sound that crawls up her throat startles me, but not as much as the head that pushes through, ripping the skin around her vagina.
“Dad!” I roar, not knowing what to do as my hands hover over the wrinkled bundle.
He races through the door as the body slides out. I might not know what to do, but my body does. I reach for the towel, wrapping the tiny boy in the soft cotton.
“Oh fuck!” Max groans, before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses to the floor, the empty plate now beside him.
“It’s a boy,” I whisper, staring down at the miracle in my hands. He is so tiny, so precious, and I can’t help but marvel at the fact she has just given him life.
“A boy?” she whispers, tears streaming down her face now.
“He has something sticking out of his stomach that’s, um, still up your, um—”
“Paramedics are here,” Dad reveals.
My shoulders drop, and I look up to a worn-out Amelia, beaming at her. “You did it. You really did.”
She reaches out to take her boy. Her fingers touch the material of the towel, just as a sharp intake of breath escapes her and she collapses back, passed out.
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDOX
I’m still holding the baby, rocking him gently in my arms, while the paramedics finish sorting Amelia out.
Once she woke up, I handed her the baby, but it wasn’t even a minute before the paramedics were passing him back to me. I guess I looked like the most trustworthy one in here.
It feels bizarre holding him in my arms. I can’t explain it. I came here to do some work and instead, I delivered a baby. A baby.
“Sir, we’re ready to leave. Would you like to come with mum and your son?”
I open my mouth, yet no words come out. I clear my throat, answering, “He’s not my son. I’m not the father,” I explain. “I live across the street.”
“Jasmine,” Amelia panics. “My mum isn’t here.”
I stand, careful with the life in my hands, meeting Myles when he takes a step forward to answer Amelia. “Your mum got stuck in traffic. She’s closer to the hospital so I told her to meet you there.”
“But Jasmine,” Amelia replies, her gaze darting from my uncle to me, panicked.
“I can watch her, if you like. I’m a social worker. She’ll be safe with me,” Myles offers with an assuring smile.
She still looks hesitant, biting her bottom lip as her gaze darts back to me again. “I—I don’t know.”
“I’ll watch her,” I offer. I shrug at everyone’s surprised faces. I can tell what they are thinking: that I can’t look after a loaf of bread, let alone a kid. But how hard can it be? Aiden does it every day and he couldn’t keep a goldfish alive when he was younger.
“I mean, I can watch her while I wait for your mum to come back from visiting with you. They said you need to stay in for observation, so you won’t be coming back tonight, and your mum can’t stay after visiting hours. I can wait here until then.”
Her doubtful expression has me smiling. “You would do that?”
I smirk. “I just delivered a baby. Babysitting will be a piece of cake. Plus, you still need me to put the cot up, otherwise this little guy won’t have anywhere to sleep.”
“Now I’ll need a new carpet in here,” she murmurs, a little smile reaching her lips. “Can I have my baby back now?”
Jasmine giggles down by my leg. “He’s going to keep him.”
I quickly hand the baby over to Amelia, giving her an impish smile when she giggles. “I’m not.”
She coos down at the bundle now dressed and wrapped up warm. I pause to watch her, seeing the same look Aiden gets when he looks at Sunday. It’s more than love. I’ve seen love in the way my parents look at each other, but the way Amelia is looking at her son… it’s as if she’s holding the universe in the palm of her hands.
“Are you ready to go?” the paramedic asks, strapping her to the gurney.
I can understand her reluctance to leave her daughter in the care of five strangers. She doesn’t know us. But I do, and I’d never let anything happen to her.
“I’ll make sure she’s safe. I swear it.”
Hope taps her knuckles onto the door, letting us know she’s here. “Hey, Dad called… Oh my God, Amelia,” Hope gushes, when she sees her on the gurney. They know each other? “I didn’t know this was your house. I thought you rented the one closer to the care home.”
Amelia’s lips part. “Hope?”
“My dad called me to say I might be needed, but I didn’t know it was you. I got stuck in traffic,” she rushes to explain, before leaning over and running her finger along the boy’s head. “He’s absolutely beautiful. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“What did you call him?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she whispers, her gaze briefly darting to me.
“We need to go,” the paramedic announces again.
Hope steps back to give them room.
“Jasmine will be safe here with me,” I promise her as they begin to push her out.
Hope narrows her gaze on me before looking down at Amelia. “I’ll be here too.”
Nodding her head, relief written all over her expression, she relaxes against the pillow. “Thank you. I’ll get Mum back here as soon as possible.”
“Just concentrate on you and the little one,” Hope orders.
The paramedics wheel her out and Dad walks over to me, his expression blank. “You need to watch out for those neighbours. They’re eyeing the house like a prize possession.”
“They’re lucky Amelia went into labour before we could call the police. He needs a kickin’.”
“Yes, because Max could give a good explanation to the police as to why he had a bat in his hand,” he replies.
Jasmine pulls on my hoody, and when I look down, she presses her hands together in prayer. “Can we watch a movie please?”
“Yeah, sounds good.” I grin, slapping my dad on the back. “My dad here is going to set up your room for you while we watch it.”
“Am I now?”
“Yes, and be a darlin’ and grab the other roll of carpet from my garage. It was meant to be for my spare room, but you may as well use it for in here.” I flop back on the sofa, dodging the blood stains on the floor, and pat the seat next to me. “How do you feel about action movies?”
“She can’t watch—”
I stop Hope with a look. “Why don’t you go help sort the baby clothes out or even help with Jaz’s room.”
Jasmine giggles. “My name’s Jasmine, silly.”
I grin down at her, before tapping my finger against her nose. “Now it’s Princess Jaz.”
She cuddles up to me on the sofa, and I stiffen, grimacing down at her. What is she doing? Hope laughs at my expression before leaving me on the sofa.
“Can we watch Frozen?”
Blanching, I shake my head. “How about a football game? I’m dying to watch tonight’s game, and you, my friend, can be my new footy companion. I’ve been needing a new one for a while now. You’ll be perfect.”
She pumps her fists into the air. “Yes! I like football.”
I grin at the kid. I wonder if Sunday will be this cool when she’s older. Right now, all she does is steal your food and slobber all over you.
*** *** ***
I think I broke the child. Manchester United just scored, and after two hours of watching the other games, she’s really into it. Which is why I put the football highlights on.
Now, she’s running around the living room, her jacket over her head, screaming, “Goal!”
Mum, who came after Hope calle
d the family tree to come and help, rubs a hand over my shoulder, laughing at Jasmine. “I remember when you and Madison used to run around like this.”
“Maddy liked football?” I ask, teasingly.
We get on better than most siblings, and I think that’s because we are twins. However, it doesn’t mean we don’t argue back and forth. One thing we argue over is having the footy on the television. She hates it, always wanting to watch one of her rom-coms.
“She’s a good kid.”
I watch as Jasmine jumps on the sofa, shaking her behind in the air. I chuckle. “They nearly finished up there?”
“Why? Are you going to go up and start telling them they aren’t doing it good enough again?”
“Mum, he was tiny,” I argue. “He could get hurt easily if they don’t set it up right.”
Smiling, she replies. “I can’t believe you delivered a baby.”
I puff out my chest. “Mum, the rest of them were crying and cringing the whole time. What could I do but help her?”
“That wasn’t what happened at all,” Max argues, walking in and dropping himself next to me on the sofa. He swings Jasmine up before dropping her on his lap, tickling her.
“Stop!” she squeals, laughing uproariously.
He grins, letting her go. “Your son was crying for his daddy the entire the time.”
Growling low in my throat, I send him a lethal glare. “And what were you doing?”
A light pink tinge lights up his cheeks. “I was monitoring this one.”
Jasmine pouts. “No, you weren’t. The other you was reading me a story, and when we came down, you were sleeping on the floor.”
Laughing, I high five Jasmine. “You tell him.”
“Oh, Max,” Mum giggles.
Max shrugs, not caring. “It’s a medical issue, you know. I get PTSD. Thank God no one in our family is pregnant right now. I might have a heart attack.”
“Mum, watch Jasmine for a second while I go see if the room is okay?”
She gives me a nod, ignoring Max’s snort. “Go on. The girls have nearly finished putting away all her things in the kitchen.”
The place looks more like a home and a lot less like one of Jaxon’s storage units. I did good, and Amelia will be proud.
Heading upstairs, I hear my dad, Mason and uncle Maverick arguing in Jasmine’s room. I peek around the door, my eyebrows bunching together as I see them holding parts of a toy.
“Did you break that?” I ask, eyes wide.
Dad drops the toy to the floor, groaning before taking a look around the room. “He bloody left.”
What the fuck?
“Um, someone want to fill me in on what’s going on?”
Maverick, shoving a toy behind his back, grimaces. “Your uncle kind of roped—or should I say—goaded us, into having a race with these wind-up toys. Your dad kind of lost it when Max’s toy knocked his over. Now we can’t put it back together.”
I arch an eyebrow at Dad. “Really, Dad?”
Lips set in a straight line, he narrows his gaze on me. “I can’t help it. He pushes the right buttons. I swear, I’ll go out and buy her some new toys.”
“Can I leave you alone for a few moments to go check on the nursery or should I get Mum up here to supervise?”
He grunts. “I’m not Max. Plus, we’re done up here.”
I look at the new carpet, and the set up. It looks good, although, if it were my kid, I’d have a swing in here, near the window, coming down from the ceiling beams. And there’s a lot of pink, but I guess everyone has their faults.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I tell them, going to leave.
Maverick’s voice stops me. “Tell Lily I’ll take her home in a minute.”
“I thought she was sick?”
Was it wise for her to be touching stuff? I mean, the baby could get sick if she spreads germs on his stuff.
“She said she’s feeling better.”
“She’s been sick for a bit now,” I remind him, biting my lip. I hope she’s okay. I hate seeing her sick. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
I exit the room, making my way down the short hallway to the baby’s room. Lily is standing over the cot, her fingers running along the light green blanket someone has folded at the end.
Her expression makes me pause. She looks deep in thought, and I wonder if she’s picturing herself as a mother. She doesn’t confide in many people, but she does me, and I know one of her fears is becoming a mum and not being the best parent, like her first mum. Lily was adopted by Maverick—who is biologically her brother—at four. The woman who raised her for those few years of her life was abusive and as cruel as they come. Because of that, Lily suffered with panic attacks. No amount of therapists or love from all of us could make it go away completely. As painful as it is to admit, Jaxon, her husband, healed her in a way we couldn’t.
“You’re thinking awfully hard over there,” I call out lightly, causing her to jump.
She places a palm over her stomach, her lips downcast. “Sorry, I was just admiring the room. They did really good.”
They did. The white furniture looks good against the yellow and mint walls.
“What’s on your mind?”
When she looks at me, I can see the hesitancy, and I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt, because it does. She used to tell me everything, but I hurt her when I beat the crap out of her husband. I was a dick, but I was just looking out for her. She was too kind, and others tried to take advantage of that. None of us wanted her to experience any more pain or heartbreak.
“I was just wondering if I’d be a good mum.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her against me. “You’ll be the best, Lily. Never doubt that.”
“Jaxon says that too, but I don’t know. I still have panic attacks and black out sometimes from them. What if I do that when I have a baby to look after?”
I can understand her fears, but they’re pointless. She’s never really understood her worth. “Lily, I truly believe that when the time comes, your mind will somehow reset. These fears you have… they’ll be gone and be replaced with new ones you’ll have for your child. Never be scared of being a mum, Lily. You’re going to be the best.”
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t want to let Jaxon down.”
A growl threatens to surface but I tamper it down, knowing she’ll only dislike me for it. “Jaxon loves you. Never worry about that.” I give her a minute to absorb my words before asking, “Lily, is that all that’s bothering you? It seemed like there was something else on your mind.”
She fiddles with the hem of her blouse, unable to look at me. “I’m not sure. Once I know, I’ll tell you.”
“That wasn’t cryptic at all.”
With a giggle, she leans into me. “Sorry.”
I kiss the top of her head, enjoying having this time with her without Jaxon there glaring because she likes to cook for me. “I’m always here if you need to talk. You know that.”
“This room is really beautiful,” she comments, changing the subject. “I still can’t believe you delivered a baby.”
“Neither can I,” I murmur, wondering how mum and son are doing.
She tilts her head up. “Is she nice?”
“I don’t really know her. From what I’ve learnt, yes. She seems to have some problems though. Two women came around earlier, causing shit for her.”
Her lips part. “No wonder she went into labour.”
I let out a dry chuckle. “I think that had to do with Jasmine nearly getting run over.”
She gasps, reaching for my hand. “Oh God, what happened? Was she hurt? She didn’t look hurt.”
“Hey,” I rush out, rubbing her arm. “She’s fine. I got to her in time, but it could have ended badly.”
“She must be worried then—not being with her daughter.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe.”
“Hey, Madz, Nita, the grandma, is here,” Mad
dy announces.
“Come on,” I gently order, letting Lily go out first. She takes one last look at the room, a wistful sigh escaping her.
Maverick is waiting by the front door when we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Lily, you ready to go?”
“Yes,” she answers, striding towards him. She backpedals at the last second, turning to me. “Thank you for talking to me.”
Something is bothering her, but until she’s ready, I know she won’t talk. “Any time.”
Maddy arches her eyebrow. “What was that about?”
“I’m not sure. She never said.”
She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “Like you’d tell me, anyway.”
I grin, lightly punching her shoulder. “Aww, don’t worry, I tell you all my secrets.”
She pouts. “No, you don’t, but then, I don’t care. I don’t tell you mine either.”
“What secrets do you have?” I ask, my voice high-pitched. I clear my throat, lowering my voice. “You’re bluffing.”
She shrugs, a wide grin on her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Yeah, I really would.
“Maddox, thank you so much,” Nita gushes, tears running down her face. I get a second’s warning before she’s enveloping me in a tight hug. “You saved my granddaughter, delivered my grandson, and you’ve unpacked and organised her entire house.”
“I’m a giving man,” I tease, slightly uncomfortable with the praise.
“He had help,” Max yells, lying over the sofa.
Nita pulls back, and cups my cheek. “I don’t care. My daughter…” She shakes her head, wiping away her tears. “She’s been through so much. She’s a survivor. You doing this for her, it makes me happy. It will restore the faith she lost after what her ex-boyfriend did to her. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
What her ex-boyfriend did to her? So he isn’t dead?
I can see the others are dying to ask too, but remarkably, they keep quiet.
“Do you bake?” I ask, not wanting to know about Amelia’s previous life. I can’t get too involved. She isn’t for me. And she has kids.
Smiling, she pats my cheek then takes a step back. “I do, but my cooking is better. Amelia’s the baker.”
Maddox Page 6