Nothing Else Matters (Demons Disciples MC Book 2)

by Allana Walker

  “Lauren, the baby's coming.” My heart rate picks up speed when I hear our baby is coming. It’s too early. We still have four weeks to go. I drown out Dad and Nico asking me what’s going on and if I need to sit down because I look like I’m going to pass out. I hear Daria scream at Lauren again that our baby is coming, and it brings me back to reality. I hang up and sprint through the bar, knocking into a few whores on the way, almost knocking Jess over too.

  “Whoa. Where's the fire?” Jess shouts.

  “Daria's in labor.” I climb on my bike. Before I know it, Dad, Nico, and Jess are driving to the hospital behind me.

  I pace the length of the entrance, waiting for what feels like a lifetime until I hear Nico.

  “There they are,” Nico shouts. Seeing Lauren's SUV come into view, I race behind the nurses.

  “Argh!” Daria screams at a terrified looking Blair, who lifts her out of the car, her legs covered with his jacket, into the wheelchair. She apologizes to him for shouting at him. He just nods, but he can’t look her in the eye, and she grabs his hand. His eyes widen, but he stays silent. She apologizes again.

  “It’s okay, Dee. The baby will be here soon, okay?” I hear him say to her. She looks up at him and nods. He kisses her temple.

  Nico nudges me, bringing me back to the here and now and away from the daydream of killing Blair.

  “Daria, baby.” Running up to her, I reach for her hand.

  “Don't you touch me!” she snaps, in total contrast to how she was with Blair.

  I swallow, my eyes wide open. I've been shouted at by Daria before, sure. But this? This is fucking terrifying. It’s like she’s been possessed.

  As I step back, her eyes squeeze closed, and her chin begins to wobble. Her knuckles turn white as she clutches the armrests of the wheelchair. “Striker, I need you.”

  “Okay, Miss Denver. We need to get you down to the labor ward.”

  “Well, gee, I thought we were going to have a nice chat and a cup of tea!” she snaps at the young nurse. The nurse looks unfazed by the outburst, and I stare at her in awe. I need to know her secret to being unfazed by these mood swings. “I’m sorry. This just really hurts,” Daria apologizes to the nurse, who giggles at her.

  “That’s mild to what I’ve been on the receiving end of.”

  I look to Dad, Nico, Jess, and Lauren, who have amused looks on their faces. Blair still looks like he’s about to throw up.

  “Striker!” Daria yells.

  I look at them, pleading with any of them to switch places with me.

  “Good luck, man.” Nico chuckles.

  “Striker!” Daria screams again as they wheel her into the room. I jump into action to welcome my baby into the world, no matter how terrified I am of Daria right now.

  “I’m here, baby.” I take her hand. “I’m here.”

  “Oh my God! I can’t do this again!” Daria screams, crushing my hand.

  “Daria, baby, you can do this,” I reassure her, leaning my forehead against hers.

  “I need the drugs!”

  “You don't take drugs.”

  “I do when I’m recreating a scene from Alien!”

  “Okay, Miss Denver...” a young nurse begins, but Daria interrupts her.

  “It's Daria,” she groans.

  “Okay, Daria. Dr. Brooks will be down soon.”

  “Thanks.” I give the nurse a small smile. Her face flushes, and she leaves the room.

  Daria adjusts herself on the bed with a groan. I give her a helping hand.

  “Thank you.” She looks up at me. I can see the pain swirling around in her eyes, and I hate it. I wish I could take the pain for her.

  “No problem, baby. I love you.” I clasp her hand between both of my own.

  “Now, Daria. How are you doing?” Dr Brooks breezes in with a smile on her face.

  “In pain, scared. It’s too early,” Daria says as a tear drips down the side of her head. I kiss her fingers, trying to comfort her as much as I can.

  “Little guy wants to meet his mommy and daddy sooner rather than later. Everything will be fine, Daria. You’re in the best place.” Dr. Brooks smiles reassuringly at Daria and me. She takes her notes and starts writing something down. “Let's see how far along we are.” She washes her hands and puts on some gloves. “Now, Daria, this will be uncomfortable. Suck on the gas and air if you need to.” Daria takes it from the older midwife.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, this relief.” She relaxes back as Dr. Brook checks her over. Her hand touches my face. “How hot is my man?” I raise an eyebrow at her. Her hand moves to the back of my head, her fingernails scratching my hairline right in the spot that gets me all the time.

  “Okay, Daria. You're seven centimeters dilated. It shouldn't be too much longer.”

  “Liar.”

  ***

  It's been two hours, and Daria’s in more pain as the minutes tick by. I hate it.

  She starts laughing. “Hey, Striker.” I look up from my cell after texting Nico who’s been constantly at me asking how Daria is and what’s happening, to see her bright smile and the gas and air mouthpiece thing on her head. “I'm a unicorn.” She falls into a fit of laughter, and I laugh along with her. Her face falls, and she starts crying. “I'm sorry about everything. The way I treated you and kept Emily from you. I should have just barged in and told you then.”

  I stand from my seat and take her hand, kissing her knuckles. Just as I take it, she squeezes hard. “Don’t think about that right now. It’s the past. Let’s focus on bringing our son into the world,” I say through the pain of her crushing my hand.

  “Striker, why don't you go get Daria more ice chips?” a nurse suggests, noticing my discomfort.

  I look to Daria who nods at me, indicating it’s okay. I lean down and kiss her head. “I’ll go update everyone while I’m out there,”

  She sucks on the gas and air, nodding.

  “Giving you a hard time?” Nico chuckles as I walk in the room where our loved ones are waiting.

  “A little, but she’s in pain, man.” I blow out a breath.

  “Son, it'll pass.” Dad laughs.

  “I remember telling Nico I loved him over and over again when I was in labor.”

  “That's a lie. You smacked me across the head for encouraging you to push.” Nico chortles at Jess, who shrugs.

  “Told you I loved you afterward.”

  “Daria’s just pretending to be a unicorn and trying to break my hand.” I shake my hand, still trying to get the feeling back.

  “Mr. Xanders, Daria’s calling for you,” the older nurse informs me. I nod, taking in a lungful of air. As I nod, I start thinking about everything, like when we reconnected. I’m disgusted with myself at how horrible I was to her; I almost killed her. Now, we’re here, about to have another baby. Shit, I’m about to be a Dad again.

  “Striker? Do you want to miss the birth of your baby?” Nicholas raises his eyebrow at me, bringing me out of my thoughts. Since everything happened with Brad, he’s been okay with me. He’s not giving me evil looks every time I see him, which is a step in the right direction. I’ll take what I can get.

  “Dad’s right. Go witness the miracle of birth. All of this will be forgotten as soon as that little boy is placed in your arms.”

  “Wish me luck.”

  “You don't need it, man.” Again, he chuckles. “Just don't poke the demon.”

  When I walk back in the room, Dr. Brooks is re-checking Daria.

  “Where have you been?” she groans.

  “Okay, Daria. Let’s have a look, see where we’re at now.”

  “I went to update everyone.” I touch her head, and she sucks on the gas and air then looks around at me.

  “Where’s the ice chips?”

  “Shit, sorry. I got caught up with updating everyone.”

  She nods while taking a breath of the gas and air. “Is Blair still here?”

  “Why the fuck do you want to know if he’s still here?” It’s my turn
to snap now.

  “I want to say thank you to him for keeping me calm and for sitting in the back, helping me, even if I did shout at him. He got me out of there quickly when my water broke when we saw Denise and Lauren was arguing with her.”

  “Denise? As in your step-mom from hell, Denise?” I question her.

  I knew I should have gone with them myself. I have a few choice words to give that bitch for what she put Daria through all those years, and none of them pretty. Now she made her go into labor four weeks early.

  She doesn’t get the chance to answer when Dr. Brooks speaks again.

  “Okay, Daria, you’re at ten centimeters.” She beams at us.

  Daria looks up at me with glistening hazel eyes. “Are you ready to be a dad of two?”

  “It’s a little late to ask that question, baby.” I smirk, leaning down and kissing her on the head.

  “On your next contraction, push hard, okay, honey?” Dr. Brooks instructs, taking her position between Daria’s legs. “That’s it. Keep pushing.”

  “I can’t. I can’t do this.” She relaxes back, breathless. “Will you marry me?” My head swings round to look at her, thinking she’s asking me, but she's not looking at me. She's looking at the young male nurse who's holding her other leg and hand. “This douchebag hasn't asked me. I've given birth to two of his kids, and he still can't get down on one knee to ask me.”

  He looks round to face Daria with a smile on his face until he catches my hard expression. One that says; ‘I will snap you in half, asshole.’ “I’m happily married, ma’am.”

  “Did I age twenty years? Ma’am?” She groans.

  “Come on, Daria. One big push. I can see the head,” Dr. Brooks says. She looks up to me and nods for me to encourage Daria too.

  “Come on, baby. You’re almost there. One step closer to meeting our son.” She nods and takes a deep breath in. She pushes, squeezing my hand so tight I can feel the bones crushing, but I won’t let on that it hurts. I imagine she’s in more pain than I am right now.

  “That’s it, Daria. Well done. That’s the head out.” Dr. Brooks smiles. “More pushes like that and you’ll have your baby.”

  “Daddy want to look?” the older midwife asks me.

  “Striker, don’t you dare look down there.” Daria grips my hand tighter, stopping me from going anywhere near her pussy. “You go down there, I swear-”

  I snigger. “Come on, baby. I want to see our son come into the world.” I look down between her legs, and I can honestly say that I wish I hadn’t. It’s like something from a fucking horror movie. My eyes widen, looking at her. That’s an image that will take a while to get rid of.

  “I told you.”

  “Okay, Daria. Here we go again. Just like last time, but a little harder.”

  “You can do it, baby.” She nods and pushes hard, letting out a scream as she runs out of air. We hear the piercing cry of our baby boy.

  “Congratulations, Mommy and Daddy. You have a beautiful baby boy.” Dr. Brooks places him on Daria’s bare chest.

  “Hey, baby boy,” Daria cries, looking down on our son, and I can’t help looking at her in awe and wonderment. She’s just gone through this whole thing, and she still looks fucking beautiful. I would say she looks more beautiful than ever before.

  “See, I told you you could do it. I love you.” I lean down, kissing her lips.

  “I love you too.” She beams up at me.

  The midwife takes him away to do all the checks while they clean up Daria. She turns to look at me, smiling. “I can’t believe we have another baby.”

  “Me either.”

  The midwife walks over and smiles at me. “Here you go, Daddy.” She grins up at me, placing my newborn son in my arms, wrapped up in a blue blanket. He’s staring up at me with a wondering expression. The dam bursts, and tears start to flow down my face. I find myself in the eye of an emotional storm, unable to put into words how I’m feeling right now. I’m excited to explore this part of parenting, relieved that both Daria and baby are safe, but I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.

  I may be a dad of two now, but I’m still a rookie dad at this stage of the game.

  ***

  We’ve been moved to a side room so Daria can get some rest. I can't stop looking at our son. Our boy. I can't believe it. He’s healthy and no issues have been detected with him being born four weeks early. They want to keep both Daria and him in for a few days for observation, but he doesn’t need any extra help, which was a relief.

  When they were both sleeping, I sat and sobbed. Our life as a family of four is just beginning. What Daria has just gone through can only be described as a slasher movie. I’ve had my fair share of live slasher movies, but this? This freaked me out. There was so much blood. The woman in pain wasn’t my Daria, she was possessed, but I still loved her.

  “Striker?” Tearing my eyes away from our son, I see Daria smiling at me. “We need to decide on a name for this little guy.”

  “Yeah. I guess we can't keep calling him baby boy.” I chuckle. “How about Creed?” I suggest, but having looked at her face, she doesn't like that name. “Hayes? Hilton? Prince? Oscar?”

  “No. They're not him.” She sighs, running her finger delicately down his face. She gazes up at me; a small smile pulls at her lips. “What about Evan?” I blink a few times.

  “Evan? My grandpa’s name?” She gives me a small smile and nods. “Hello, Evan.” I grin, turning my gaze back down on him.

  “What was Cobra's real name? In all the time he shadowed me, I never thought to ask him his real name.” She blinks quickly, trying to rid the memory and the tears. It's the first time in weeks she's said Cobra's name. Every time we try to bring it up, she leaves the room. She refused to go to his wake, and I know she blames herself, but no matter what we say or how many times we tell her Cobra died doing what he was asked to do, her response is always the same; he still shouldn't have been killed because of me.

  I place Evan down and sit on the edge of the bed, linking my fingers with hers. “Vincent.”

  “I want that as a middle name,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “He tried to save me. Without him dying that night, I wouldn't have been able to grab the knife that killed...” She screws her face up, still unable to say his name.

  “I think that's a great idea. Get some rest. I'll be back soon.”

  She nods as she yawns. I kiss her forehead.

  I look back before I leave and smile at them both sleeping. My heart has never felt so full of love as it does right now.

  ***

  I walk into the waiting room that’s overrun by the brothers and some old ladies. Emily runs up to me, throwing her arms around my waist. “Daddy!”

  “Princess, you ready to meet your little brother?”

  She nods excitedly, looking up at me before moving to go sit by Dad.

  Jess is the next one in front of me. “How is she? The baby okay?”

  “She is resting, and he’s perfect. They want to keep her and baby in for a few days for observation, but he’s a healthy little boy.” She shocks the hell out of me by throwing her arms around me and whispering in my ear. “Thank you.” For what, I have no idea.

  My eyes land on Blair.

  He stands, straightening to his full height. He’s still shorter than me, like everyone else.

  “Striker.” Lauren's voice is a warning. I step back and lift my hand in front of me for him to shake.

  “Thank you,” I say genuinely. He looks hesitant to take my hand, but eventually, he does and I pat him on the shoulder.

  “You're welcome.” He nods, but he still looks at me suspiciously, like he’s waiting for me to shout or punch him.

  “Relax. I’m not going to do anything to you.” I roll my eyes at him with a chuckle.

  “Well, when can I see my daughter and grandson?” Nicholas asks impatiently.

  “Yeah. I want to see if we’re looking at another carbon copy of Striker.” Jess giggles,
looking at an excited Emily. Dad picked her up from school and brought her here.

  “No, he’s all Daria.” I chuckle.

  I leave to see if Daria is up to seeing some people. The midwife said it was a limit of two people only. Nico used his charm and begged her to let Emily, Jess, Dad, Nicholas, Lauren, and him in all at the same time. She agreed.

  “Everyone, meet Evan Vincent Xanders,” I announce, handing him over to a crying Lauren.

  “He looks just like you did when you were born,” she sobs. I look over to Daria, who’s wiping her eyes. I stand by her as they all coo over our son.

  “You okay, baby?” I sit by her, taking her hand in mine and bringing it up to my lips to kiss her knuckles.

  “Yeah.” She wipes the constant stream of tears that are falling. “I’m good.”

  I look over at our family. Our big, dysfunctional family. I couldn’t be happier. Well, making Daria my wife will make me happier.

  She will be my wife.

  ***

  “Hey.” Daria’s hand slides up my back.

  I’ve been up most nights since Evan was born two weeks ago, just gazing at him.

  “Did you get any sleep?” she whispers, kissing my shoulder.

  “I can’t sleep. I’m too scared in case this is a dream.” I turn my head to see her chin resting on my shoulder, looking at our son.

  “It’s very real. It damn well better be with these two rocks on my chest, and all the pain I’m in right now.”

  I chuckle. Evan starts to stir for his morning feed.

  “Get some rest. I’ll feed this little guy.” She kisses my cheek. I watch her as she picks him up, taking him over to the nursing chair Nicholas bought her. Evan latches onto her breast and starts suckling. “Striker, sleep.” She laughs, catching me staring at her.

  “I can’t. Got to go see someone about something.” I stand and kiss her head.

  “Promise me you’ll sleep tonight?”

  “I promise.”

  ***

  “Striker?” Nicholas looks up from whatever file he's reading, his glasses on the end of his nose.

  My heart stammers against my ribs. I'm fucking petrified of him right now. He has the power to take Daria away from me. He would try, and I know Daria would choose him if she had to, and I wouldn't stop her. She lost ten years with her dad because of me getting her pregnant; I won't come between them again. “Striker, what did you come here for? I'm busy right now.” His tone is bored, like I'm inconveniencing him.