Without falling over his tongue he had her signed in at the hospital, and a nurse was wheeling her down the hall in a wheelchair before he could turn around. Annie and Grace knew where to go, and they led the way to obstetrics, each holding one of his hands.
He always wore riding gloves now. Danielle had fixed them up for him, getting rid of the unneeded fingers and covering the scars. He no longer winced when someone took his hand in theirs; given they were female with the last name Prince.
The room where it all went down was a lot like any other room, but there was just one bed, and a small bathroom in the corner. When she was in the paper gown and covered up Annie and Grace were allowed back in the room, to wait and hold her hand.
Knuckles expected a long day. Grace took twelve hours, after all. But that just went to show how much he knew about...well, anything. Half an hour later the girls were sent to the waiting room, and the doctor and nurse moved into the room for the show.
He watched the nurses assemble the bed into “birthing” mode, then he perched on a rolling stool near Danielle’s head, taking her hand in his. Jayce told him not to look “down there,” and he was all on board for that. He was all about Danielle; serving ice chips as needed and letting her crush his hand.
It all happened fast. Way too fast. He didn’t have the time to prepare, to really take in what was going on. All he focused on was what Danielle was telling him. Mostly, that it hurt and that he was an asshole.
He was sure something was wrong. Should it really be this hard on her? Her face was flushed, and he pushed her hair out of her face, feeling the heat under her skin. She was burning up.
“I got you, Momma,” he was whispering, kissing her forehead. “I’m here, honey.”
One last scream and vice-like squeeze on his hand, and the next thing he heard was a quivering, shaking cry. He smiled, but he still didn’t look away as Danielle’s head flopped to the pillow.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, eyes closed. “Thank God that’s over.”
Now he looked to the doctor, who was handing over a bloody, gooey little bundle to a nurse. Then she went back to the tent between Danielle’s knees, her face very telling. At the same time, Danielle’s hand slipped out of his.
“Dani,” he said, sharply, standing up and sending the stool flying. He took her face in his hands, but her eyes had rolled up into her head and she wasn’t responding.
“What’s going on?” he shouted, turning to the medical staff. Another doctor was now in the room, and he and the obstetrician exchanged a look, no words, and the other doctor left.
“Mister O’Shay,” a nurse said calmly. “I need your help.”
He ignored her. Danielle’s arm hung limply off the side of the bed, and his heart stopped at the sight. All sounds stopped. Just his own breathing.
No, not alone. He can’t be alone now. She can’t go.
The buzzing at the back of his skull, all up the back of his neck, came back.
“Mister O’Shay. Your daughter needs you.”
He swallowed, shook his head. “What?”
“Your daughter. Can you take care of her while we help Mom?”
A few blinks brought him back to the sound of people rushing around. A gurney was rolled in, and the doctor and another nurse were lifting Danielle onto the gurney. “Where are you taking her?”
“She needs our help. We’re taking her to surgery. But you need to help your daughter now.”
He blinked at the nurse twice again, then looked down. The little brunette was holding a bundle wrapped in white, and as he stared it turned into a baby. A brand new, bright red, wrinkled baby, screaming its head off.
“Holy shit.”
“Open your shirt, Mr. O’Shay.”
“What?”
The nurse sighed. “Skin to skin contact. It’s part of your birth plan, Mister O’Shay. This is what Danielle wanted. So, we need you to take care of your daughter.”
He vaguely remembered these things. But it was going to be Danielle holding the baby, crying all over their son’s head and trying to breast feed.
Not him.
“Your shirt.”
Her tone was sharp enough he complied, undoing the top three buttons.
“And take off your gloves, please.”
He did that too. One good thing about medical professionals, they weren’t grossed out by things like a few missing fingers or scars.
Then she instructed him to sit in another chair; a lower one with arms and a vinyl covering. He obeyed, still numb, and she settled the bundle against his chest. “We’ll need to know her name,” the nurse said softly. “But for now, you need to take care of her.”
She put his arms in place, and he let himself be moved like a child. Then she left him holding the baby all on his own.
He shifted the weight so the little one’s face was resting on his chest, not far from his beard. He didn’t want to scrape her up. Shit, maybe he needed to trim that.
The screaming was ebbing away into little whimpers. He patted her little back, not knowing what the fuck he was supposed to do. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to know that Danielle was okay.
He peered down, watching those little china-blue eyes rolling around, trying to find something to look at. He smiled, bringing a finger up to run over her hair. There was a lot of it, and it was jet black. No freckles, though. That was too bad. But maybe they’d come later.
Her crying didn’t stop, exactly. But the little whimpers started to sound more like the noises Annie made when she really needed to go to bed. Now he chuckled, feeling the buzzing ease and the tension in his neck release just the slightest bit.
“So...you’re my daughter, huh?”
Epilogue
As her eyes opened, Danielle felt relief that she was in a hospital room. The birth hadn’t been imaginary. She was through that really shitty part.
With a sigh, she turned her head to the window, and her heart stopped at the sight she found. A chair was set up near her bed, facing the same way she was. Knuckles sprawled out in it, his arms wrapped around a newborn snuggled up tight on his chest. His mouthed moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. It probably wasn’t for her, anyway.
The little one was curled up in jellybean form, much like she would have been in the womb, head to the side, fast asleep. Knuckles was rubbing her back, and he was gazing down on her with such warm affection Danielle’s heart swelled.
“Hey,” she said eventually, and his head jerked to her so quickly the baby started and set off crying.
Well, beautiful moment killed.
“Sorry,” she said as he got up, baby held on one arm as he leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“Momma, you scared the shit out of us.”
“What happened?”
“You were bleeding a lot, but they got it stopped. I thought we lost you.”
She waved a hand. “Nah, who needs blood?”
“I’ve got an appointment next week to get snipped, Momma. We’re not risking that again. No fucking—” He looked down at the crying baby. “No way we’re doing that again.”
She smiled, then held her hands out. “Gimme that baby.”
“She’s a girl, by the way.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, so it was Auntie Jellybean all along.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” she murmured, letting her new daughter grab hold of her finger. So light, but so much weight all the same.
“Why?”
“You have a house full of women.”
He chuckled, then pulled the chair closer to the side of the bed and leaned on the mattress, bringing an arm up to play with her hair. “What makes you thing I don’t like women?”
A twinge hit her breast, and she winced, then tried to reach up to undo her hospital gown. Knuckles was on it, pulling the softened cotton out of the way. His attentive instincts weren’t all that surprising.
She settled their daughter at her breast, and then gave a soft sob as she
latched on.
“Well look at that. She knew what to do.”
“She was probably pretty hungry. How long have I been out for?”
He stretched his arms, cracked his neck, and checked his watch. “About three hours since you came out of surgery.”
“Where are the girls?”
“I sent them to the cafeteria to eat some lunch.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“They’ve already met their sister.”
“Good.”
They both stared at their daughter for a few quiet moments, then he asked, “Should I leave you alone?”
“No,” she whispered, taking hold of his hand. “We’ve picked the name, haven’t we?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling the blanket away to see the little one better. “If you’re still cool with it.”
“I am. I love that name.”
They watched her eat a while longer, then Danielle kissed that tuft of silky-soft hair, breathing in that new-human smell. Against it, she whispered, “Faith Haven O’Shay, you are loved.”
About C.D. Breadner:
C.D. Breadner is a self-published author. She is honored to be a contributing author with The Freak Circle; a collective of amazing and supportive writers who encouraged her to delve into the genre of motorcycle club fiction with them, which brought about her second series, the stories of the Red Rebels MC.
Her first novel, Sin Eater, was the beginning of The Sin Eater series, an urban paranormal, slightly erotic series looking at the different forces of good and evil.
She has also published a standalone historical novel that takes place during World War II, Drawing Blood.
She lives in a cozy home in the woods with her wonderful husband and two German Shepherds.
Connect With C.D. Breadner:
Visit C.D. Breadner’s Website
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C.D. Breadner’s Amazon Author Page
Shelter (Red Rebels MC Book 5) Page 41