Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(78)

Josie patted his arm and handed him Coltrane. “Anne’s lucky to have you, and your child will be, too.”

Somehow, she couldn’t see Ben disowning a daughter if she was with child. And he’d already shown how he’d react if his lover turned up pregnant.

With a smothered sigh, Josie headed up the stairs. Anne was a lucky woman. Josie’d had no barbecues thrown to keep her happy. No protective boyfriend. She’d “celebrated” her seventeenth birthday in a homeless shelter.

At the top of the stairs, she heard an odd sound. Was Anne on the phone? No, that was a groan.

Josie ran the last few steps. The door was open.

Kneeling on the floor, Anne was bent over, hands clutching her stomach. A sound emerged—a low, teeth-clenched moan of pain.

“Oh no, this isn’t good. Hold on a second, Anne.” Josie ran to the head of the stairs and yelled, “Ben. Holt. Get up here!”

When Josie dropped down beside her, Anne whispered, “Good subbie. I tried to ye—ooooooh.”

Josie’s eyes widened. Those contractions shouldn’t be so close together.

Pounding on the stairs announced Ben’s arrival—and Holt’s.

“Jesus fuck, woman.” Ben scooped Anne off the floor.

“Hold her for a moment, Ben.” Holt grabbed towels from the bathroom closet and spread them over the bed several layers thick.

Anne groaned again as Ben laid her on the mattress.

“Another pain? Already?” Holt’s expression changed, holding worry. “You weren’t in labor when you came up for a nap.”

She gasped for air. “I had contractions earlier.” Breath. “Wasn’t anything.” Breath. “Didn’t hurt.” Breath. “This is insane. Owwwww, fucking hell.”

“Close the door, Josie, to keep the pets out. Ben, take Anne’s pants off and do you have gloves in here? Let’s see if there’s time to get to the hospital.” Holt disappeared into the bathroom to wash his hands.

Door closed, Josie picked up a clean beach towel and draped it over Anne’s bared legs and groin, getting a look of approval from Ben.

“There’s lots of light in here, at least.” Cleaned up, Holt walked over to the bed, bent Anne’s legs up, and moved the towel. His jaw hardened. “Ooookay, then. Ben, call 911 and tell them precipitous labor.”

“What?” Ben said. “She needs to get to—”

“She’s having the baby now, bro.” Holt patted Anne’s leg and met her eyes. “You’re almost fully dilated, sweetheart. Labor pains this fast are hell; however, the good news is you’re having the baby really, really soon. This won’t last long.”

“Oh. Good.” Anne gasped…and curled up again with a whine of, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Josie, please get my first aid kit out of the car. It’s in the cargo space.” Holt gave her a reassuring smile and tossed over the keys. “Tell Jake and Rainie to direct the first-responders.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As she ran out of the room, she heard Anne’s grunted approval. “Well trained.”

After telling Jake and Rainie what was happening, Josie grabbed the bag from the car, dashed up the stairs and into the room.

Nothing had gotten better. Anne’s face was a dark red, and her hands were fisted as she screamed through gritted teeth. God. Josie’d thought her own hours of lonely labor were bad. This was horribly worse. Anne hardly had a chance to breathe between the long contractions.

Josie unzipped the bag and set it close to Holt. He dug inside.

Sweat poured down Anne’s face, and her eyes were glazed as she got lost in the pain.

“Do we need to boil water or something?” Ben asked frantically. Holding Anne’s hand, he wiped her face with a cool towel. “I don’t—”

“No worries, Ben,” Holt said. “The ambulance crew will have sterile equipment and can cut the cord. It’s better to let the cord go uncut for bit anyway.”

Gloves on, Holt checked Anne again. “You’re there, Anne. Fully dilated.”

“Fucking go me.” Anne groaned again.

“Josie,” Holt said quietly. “Can you sit behind her and give her some back support?”

“Got it.” Josie toed off her flip-flops, crawled onto the bed, and braced Anne from the back. “Lean against me. I’ve got you.”

At the foot of the bed, Holt waited for the next contraction. “Hang in there, Anne. You’re almost done.” He patted her leg, radiating confidence and competence.

Josie’s racing heart slowed.

His steady gaze met hers, took in how she was bracing Anne, and his nod of approval warmed her through and through.

“Push. Have to,” Anne gasped. She bore down with a high-pitched keening sound.

“Won’t be any postponing this baby.” Holt motioned to Ben. “Come here, bro. Let’s get your baby birthed.”

Anne gave another bit-off scream as Ben moved. When she stopped and gasped for breath, Josie reached around and took her hand. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. “Ben is here. You’re having the baby now—just hang in there.”

Anne clutched her fingers, took another breath, and pushed again.

Holt murmured quiet instructions to Ben. “No cord problems, we’re all good. Put your hands here.”