by April Wilson
Jason pulls a wooden chair close to the sofa and takes a seat. “You’re well into active labor. Your cervix is dilated to nine centimeters, so it won’t be long before you’ll feel the need to push. When you do, don’t fight it. Your body knows what to do.”
She nods, the blood draining from her face. “All right,” she says, sounding as far from all right as a person can.
“Don’t you have something you can give her for the pain?” I say.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not set up to give her anything strong here. I can give her a local anesthetic, sure. It won’t help with the contractions, but it will help with any stretching or tearing of the perineum.”
“Do it. Anything to help her through this.”
Lia hands me a half-filled bottle of water. “Here. She needs to drink.”
Beth is resting at the moment, her eyes closed, and I hate to disturb her. She needs all the rest she can get between contractions. Damn it! I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. She should be in a hospital, as comfortable as medically possible. Instead, she’s been biting her lips until they bleed in an effort to keep from crying out.
“Sweetheart, can you drink some water?”
She turns her head to me, staring at me with pain-glazed eyes. “All right.”
I lift her head gently and hold the water bottle for her as she takes a few small sips.
Abruptly, she pushes the bottle away. “It’s starting again.”
“Get ready,” Lia says, stepping in front of Jason to be closer to Beth. “It’s okay, princess. Look at me. We got this.”
We. Damn, I love my little sister, but I’ve never loved her more than I do right now. She has stepped up to this situation as well as anyone ever could.
Beth’s entire body tenses, and she strains upward in a half-sitting position, her jaw clenched tightly, her face screwed up in concentration. She doesn’t make a sound other than faint keening noises coming from deep in her throat. She’s so fucking brave. I move in closer, slipping behind her to support her body with mine, my arms going around her, gripping her hands with mine. Her body is tense, strung tight as a bow. I’m desperate to do anything I can to comfort her, but I’m at a complete loss. I look to Lia.
“Just talk to her,” she says. “Talk her through it. Let her know you’re here.”
Feeling so incredibly inadequate, I press my lips against her temple, murmuring mindlessly to her. “Sweetheart, I’m here. You’re so brave, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
“Breathe, Beth!” Lia says sharply. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathe!”
“I have to push,” she gasps, her eyes widening.
“Then push, damn it,” Lia says. “Push that baby right out.”
Jason shoots to his feet and pulls back the sheet, opening Beth’s legs to examine her. He reaches between her legs. “I’m going to touch you again, Beth.” His gaze meets mine. “Ten centimeters,” he mutters to himself. “Cervix is fully effaced, and I can feel the baby’s head.” He gives me a relieved smile.
It takes me a minute to realize the significance of that statement. He can feel the baby’s head—that means the baby’s in the right position, head first, not breech. Thank God.
Jason has one hand between Beth’s thighs and the other on her abdomen, pressing gently as if guiding the baby out. “You’re doing great, Beth,” he says. “Push when you feel the need.”
Beth pushes and pushes, straining so hard that I’m afraid she’s going to burst a blood vessel. When the contraction ends, she falls back against me with a quiet sob, her body like dead weight as she tries to catch her breath. I slip out from behind her and gently lower her head onto the pillow so she can rest.
The contractions continue, over and over, each one wracking her body and zapping her strength. Jason gives her an injection of a local anesthetic to take the edge off the pain.
During one of her moments of respite, I brush her hair back from her pale, damp face and give her a rueful smile. “I sure hope Luke likes being an only child, because we’re never doing this again.”
She laughs shakily. “I don’t think now is the time to be making those kinds of decisions.”
While Lia gives her a sip of water, I press my throat mic and request an update from Jake. “She’s pushing, Jake. What’s the ETA on the NICU ambulance? We’ll need to evac the baby ASAP. Nearest hospital. Relay that information to Tyler, Ingrid, and our parents.”
My ear piece crackles with static, and then Jake’s voice comes through. “SWAT team is still negotiating with gunmen. It’s pretty hostile in there. Don’t be surprised if SWAT goes in on the offensive. Be prepared for a lot of noise.”
“Keep our people clear of them,” I instruct Jake. “This is their show. Just keep our evac route clear and get me my fucking neonatal ambulance.”
“Roger that. Oh, and regarding Tyler, you can tell him all this yourself. He’s on his way up. Consider yourself forewarned.”
Well, shit.
“Lia, come sit with Beth,” I say. “I have to go deal with you-know-who.”
Lia glances back at the doorway, and then she rolls her eyes at me. Of course she knows who I’m talking about. We can hear Tyler arguing in hushed tones with Cameron and Killian, who are guarding the stairwell. They have strict orders not to let anyone through the door.
Lia takes my place, and I hightail it back to the other side of the wall before all hell breaks lose. Tyler Jamison must have come straight from work—he’s dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and tie. His expression is equally dark, bordering on murderous.
“Tyler.”
Tyler levels his gaze on me, and if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. My brother-in-law doesn’t like me much because I had the gall to fall in love with his baby sister. I brace myself for what I know is coming, but I figure I might as well let him take a swing at me now and get it over with.
Tyler grabs my shirt collar and shoves me into the wall. “What the fuck have you done?” he grates at me in a low voice.
Tyler has a habit of going ballistic on me where his sister is concerned. He once attacked me at a crime scene and had me arrested for assaulting an officer—me!—when he was the one who threw the first punch. I was only defending myself.
I sigh. “We don’t have time for a pissing contest right now, Tyler. Do you want an update on her status or not?”
Reluctantly, Tyler releases me, but his hands remain fisted at his sides, and I figure he’s debating whether or not to take a swing at me.
“Where is she?” he demands, glaring at me.
Cameron gets in Tyler’s face. “Keep the noise down, asshole,” he whispers.
I nod at the opening in the wall. “Through there.” He moves to pass me, but I grab his arm. “Keep it together, Tyler. She’s in labor. She doesn’t need your Neanderthal shit right now.”
He stops, the blood draining from his face. “She’s in labor?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s too soon.”
I watch, astonished, as he reins his temper in, morphing from raging hot to ice cold in an instant.
I step aside and let him proceed me through the opening, close on his heels. He goes right to her, kneeling down beside her and laying his hand on her hair, gently stroking her. “Hi, kiddo,” he says.
She turns to face him, her pale eyes stark and filled with pain. “Tyler?”
“Yeah, honey. It’s me. How are you doing?”
“Okay,” she rasps. “I’ve been better.”
“I’ll bet.” Then he looks at Jason, a questioning scowl on his face. Tyler looks to me for answers.
“Jason works for me,” I say. “He’s a former Army medic and he worked as a licensed paramedic.” To Jason, I say, “This is Tyler Jamison, Beth’s brother. Chicago homicide detective.”
Tyler and Jason give each other a curt nod. Then Tyler shifts his attention back to Beth. “Everything’s going to be okay, Beth,” he says. “I promise. You and the baby are g
oing to be fine.”
Beth nods, giving her brother a weak smile. Then she closes her eyes and exhales a long, slow breath just as her brow begins to furrow. “Shane?”
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” I tell her, lifting her so I can slip behind her and brace her. As I lean down to kiss the top of her head, she reaches out blindly for a hand. Before I can grab it, Tyler does, cradling her hand between his.
She gasps when the contraction hits her, turning her face away from everyone, toward the back of the sofa as if she’s trying to hide her pain from us. I talk her through it with my eyes squeezed shut as I try to staunch my own silent tears, my words jumbled together in a barely comprehensible mix of promises and apologies. I’d take this pain for her in a heartbeat if I could.
When I spare a glance at Tyler, his expression is void of any emotion whatsoever. He just stares at his sister, his expression blank. If you didn’t know better, you’d think him heartless and unfeeling. But I do know better. This is affecting him every bit as much as it’s affecting me. He’s shoved it all away, for her sake, because he knows she needs for us to be strong for her right now.
Cameron and Killian step through the doorway carrying our requisitioned supplies. Cameron’s holding what I presume is a pot of hot water—the oven mitts he’s wearing giving it away. Killian has a metal basin in one hand and a stack of bright white kitchen towels in the other. As quickly as they deposit the supplies, they’re gone again, returning to guard duty.
The contractions are coming so fast and furiously now that one seems to blend into the next, with hardly a respite in between. Beth’s body is constantly straining, her muscles tense, her breaths ragged, her voice raw. I’ve lost all track of time. She can’t keep this up.
“You’re doing great, Beth,” Jason says, looming over her, with one hand between her legs and the other pressing on her rippling belly. “He’s so close now. Take a quick breath and then push once more, as hard as you can.”
She sucks in air, then grimaces as she bears down, pushing with all her might, growling deep in her throat. When the contraction ends, she collapses against me, and the quiet whimpers coming from her tear at me.
I glance at Tyler, whose gaze meets mine head on. He swallows hard, his anger at me gone, replaced by something I can only describe as fear.
“It’s okay,” I murmur against the top of Beth’s head while holding Tyler’s gaze. “Everything’s going to be fine.” The words are just as much for Tyler as they are for Beth.
Beth draws in a shaky breath as I brush back her hair, my fingers gently stroking her forehead. She sighs. “That feels good.”
My ear comm crackles with static, then Jake’s voice comes through. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s holding her own,” I reply. “Sit rep.”
Jake gives me a run-down of what’s going on downstairs. The gunmen have shot another hostage—that makes three now—and the SWAT leader has decided they need to go in with full force and take out the perpetrators. He also reports that the ETA of my neonatal transport is fifteen minutes.
“Beth, you might hear some loud noises coming from downstairs,” I warn her, shooting Tyler a glance. “Don’t be alarmed. The SWAT team is making their move. But we’ll be okay up here. We have guards on duty.”
She nods, and a moment later, she tenses as another contraction starts. I move into position, supporting her body as she bears down. Every second of her agony kills me, and I hate myself for letting her be in this position. I never should have agreed to this trip. I should have kept her home in comfort and safety. All of this is my fault, and I can’t escape the knowledge that I’ve let her down.
“That’s it, Beth!” Jason says, shooting to his feet, excitement lacing his voice. “The baby’s head is crowning. Push! As hard as you can, push! He’s so close!”
Lia leans over the back of the sofa, catching Beth’s gaze. “Push him out, Beth! Push hard!”
“I’m trying!” Beth snaps, sounding more than a little annoyed.
Tyler gives Lia a dirty look, and if the situation weren’t so awful, I would have laughed.
“You’d better push harder, princess,” Lia says, making a face at Tyler. “Tyler’s looking a little green around the gills. I don’t think he can handle the miracle of life.”
Beth laughs, but her laugh is quickly cut off by a choked cry. Tyler glares daggers at Lia, and she sticks her tongue out at him.
Lia glances down at the juncture between Beth’s thighs, and her eyes widen as she gives me a stricken look. To cover her distress, she pats Beth on the head. “Holy shit, princess, I can see his little head. He’s got hair.”
Jason quietly moves into position. “All right, Beth. It’s time. Let’s bring your baby into the world.”
“Push, Beth!” Lia urges. “One more really good push! You can do it!”
Beth bears down and powers through a concerted effort to bring our child into the world.
“Oh, my God, you’re doing it!” Lia crows quietly, looking surprised and elated. “Push! Push!”
Beth makes a strangled sound as her body tenses and strains. It’s a miracle she hasn’t already broken something.
Jason’s hands are between Beth’s thighs as he prepares to catch the baby. “You’re doing great, Beth,” he says. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. That’s good. His head is out.” Jason reaches for a bulb syringe and begins suctioning fluid out of the baby’s mouth. “Okay, just one more big push to get his shoulders out, and then the rest is easy.”
A loud, wet pop, followed by a gushing sound, heralds the arrival of Lucas Samuel McIntyre into the world. Beth sags against me, exhausted. Jason moves the baby onto a clean towel laid out at the far end of the sofa and quickly administers to him, his movements quick and efficient. Lia watches Jason work, looking both awed and horrified. Beth’s eyes are closed tightly, her entire body trembling.
I hold my breath in anticipation as I wait to hear Luke’s first cry, but when there’s nothing but silence, I start to get worried. Jason is working feverishly at the far end of the sofa, his expression a careful mask of concentration. Beth is shaking uncontrollably in my arms now, and I’m afraid she’s going into shock.
“Find more blankets,” I tell Lia.
I catch Tyler’s concerned gaze as he watches Jason working on the baby. We still haven’t heard a sound from Lucas yet, and that sends up all kinds of red flags. Don’t babies usually start wailing the instant they’re born? “Sit rep,” I snap at Jason.
Tyler rises to stand behind Jason, who still hasn’t said a word. It’s easily been a minute now, and I still don’t hear what I expect to hear. Just silence and the sound of Beth’s labored breathing.
Lia returns with a heavy comforter, which we drape over Beth, hoping to warm her.
The seconds pass without the sound of a crying baby, and my heart begins to jackhammer against my ribs as the implication sinks in. I slide out from behind Beth and lay her down gently. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her, but I don’t think my words are registering.
She turns her face toward the back of the sofa and closes her eyes. “He’s not breathing, is he?” she says, her voice barely audible.
I don’t need to be told that she’s praying with every fiber of her being.
Chapter 17
Shane
He’s not breathing is he?
Beth’s words play over and over in my mind, caught in a loop, as the seconds tick by. How long has it been now? Ninety seconds? A hundred? How long can a newborn infant go without breathing? Jesus, I don’t know.
I sidle up next to Jason, who’s using a bulb syringe to suction fluid from the baby’s throat. The umbilical cord is still attached to the baby, who is incredibly tiny, and yet so perfect. He’s perfectly formed, with tiny flailing fists and kicking feet. His little face is all scrunched up, and he looks like he wants to scream bloody murder, but he can’t. The only thing I hear is thick fluid gurgling in his airway.
Jason sp
ares me a quick glance. “As long as the umbilical cord is attached, he’s still getting oxygenated blood,” he whispers. “That will buy us some time to get him breathing.”
As the seconds pass, Luke’s complexion darkens as he struggles to cry. My heart stops as reality sinks in.
He’s not breathing.
My tiny, perfect little son can’t breathe.
The pain … my God, it’s indescribable. I’d rather be gutted than experience this all-consuming agony.
I look to Jason, desperate for answers, but he’s so intently focused on the baby that he ignores me. Jason turns Luke over in his hands, holding the baby face down, and rubs his tiny back briskly, whispering, “Come on, damn it! Breathe!”
He turns Luke back over and suctions more fluid from the baby’s airway. Then we hear it, a faint, wet cough followed by a tiny squawk. Lucas coughs again, a little more forcefully this time, expelling fluid from his mouth, and then he lets out a shaky cry.
I’m so relieved that my knees almost give out on me. I glance back at the sofa, where Tyler is holding Beth, whose body is wracked with tremors. My throat tightens as I watch Beth sobbing in her brother’s arms.
After wiping the worst of the mucus and blood from Luke’s torso with a damp towel, Jason attaches two clamps to the umbilical cord. Then he hands me a pair of surgical scissors and points to a spot between the clamps. “Cut here, Dad,” he says, grinning at me.
After I cut the cord, Jason picks Luke up and motions for me to follow. We step away from the sofa, out of Beth’s hearing. “His lungs are likely underdeveloped,” he says over the sounds of Luke’s labored breathing. “This is not uncommon with preemies.” Jason lifts his somber gaze to mine. “He needs a respirator. Where’s my NICU ambulance?”
I press my throat mic. “Jake? Where’s that transport? We need it now.”
After a moment of static, Jake’s voice comes back over the comm. “Their ETA is three minutes.”
“Three minutes,” I tell Jason.
He nods curtly, then glances at Beth. “I’ve done all I can do for the baby. He needs the NICU team now. They’ll take him to the nearest hospital with air flight, and they’ll send him by helicopter to the Children’s Hospital in Chicago. Your wife is in shock, and we’re not done here yet. She still needs to pass the placenta, and then we need to get her to the hospital for treatment—she’s going to need stitches. Who’s going in the ambulance with the baby? I need to stay here and help Beth.” Jason eyes me expectantly as he continues to rub Luke’s back, stimulating him to breathe.