Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) (14 page)

Their immaturity made me feel three times my age. I tried to take small bites, but had no appetite. West allowed me to pick at my plate, saying very little as they finished their meals. I glanced out the window of the diner, following the late afternoon sun as it beat down on the parking lot. The persistent cramp that had bothered me since the gas station had suddenly become a pain, and I doubled over in my seat.

“
Oh
,” I gripped my side, lifting my eyes to Logan’s, across from me. West, sitting next to me, reached for my hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… I think I need the restroom,” I struggled to ease my way out of the booth, searching frantically for the restroom in the diner.

“Are you sick?” West walked with me, leading me toward the back.

“No… I have to…,” I stopped suddenly, warm moisture trickling just slightly down my leg. “I… did I seriously just pee myself?”

“
Christ
,” he looked back at the booth- Logan and Violet were already on their feet. Logan dropped cash to the table, and West scooped me into his arms.

“Don’t carry me, I’m so heavy, and… and wet-…,”

“That’s amniotic fluid. And there’s hardly any.”

Logan was behind the wheel in minutes, and West carefully lowered me to the seat in the back of the van. “How much time do we have?”

“No hospitals!” I screamed, jolting when I realized Troy was directly behind me.
You’re not going to wake him up! He’s dead right now, idiot!

“I’ve never delivered a baby, Roam,” West said as Logan pulled out to the main road. “
I could do it, but if there’s a complication, I can’t-…,”

“Do it!” The pain returned, this time not to be confused with a cramp. It began in my back, pulsing fingers that crept along my sides and erupted in my abdomen. Shadows billowed in my vision, darkening West’s face. He held my
chin firmly in his hands.

“Breathe!” He shouted, shaking me slightly. “In your nose, out your mouth, do it-…,”

“Don’t you know Lamaze?” Violet demanded, holding the seat tightly as Logan flew around a curve. “Isn’t that a mandatory class or something?”

“Violet, shut up,” Logan growled.

“We can’t take Troy across in the daylight. I’ll take Roam to the cottage, you and Violet stay here with Troy until I can get back for you. Logan, do you think you can kill him- when you have to?”

“He didn’t have any problems killing me,” Violet muttered, under her breath.

“Yes,” Logan pulled into a gravel lot near the water. “This is the place?”

“Yes- I see the boat.
Annie,” he gathered me into his arms. I stared at him, relishing in the fact that the muscles had stopped contracting inside me. “Are you sure you trust me to do this? I can take you to a hospital-…,”

“Just tell me you can,” I begged, tears filling my eyes.
I ignored his name slip, understanding that his emotions were running at the same speed that mine were at the moment.

“I can- I just want you to be…,” his face turned cold, the same commanding control that I was used to from him. “Okay. I’m putting you in the boat and taking you across. When the pain starts, breathe. Focus on breathing.”

“Okay,” I acknowledged. He hurried to the small office at the dock, and I assumed he was paying a fee for parking the boat.

“Roam,” Logan
turned to me, and I panted, holding my stomach as another pain hinted in my lower back. “I’ll be there tonight. I…,” he reached for my hand, holding it tightly. “I love you. I’ll be there tonight,” he repeated, nervously watching West approach the van again.

Th
e wooden motor boat traveled over the smooth waves of the sound easily, but through two more contractions, the half-mile ride felt endless. The cottage was another half-mile from the dock on the island. West reached for me to lift me into his arms, but I protested weakly.

“I’ll walk,” I gritted my teeth, my eyes watery and burning. “I’ll attract too much attention if you carry me.”

He held me tightly against his side, half-carrying me as we walked toward one of the only cottages in sight. I marveled at the emptiness of the island; few people, no development, and nothing but glorious ocean that stretched for miles. “You chose this place… so we’d be isolated,” I realized, lifting my eyes to his. “I was killed on the mainland, at a gas station, wasn’t I?”

He stiffened, opening the unlocked door of the cottage. The beach house was new; I could smell fresh paint as we walked in the front door. Though the layout was the same, every appliance, the butcher-block countertops, the fixtures…
they were shining, no more than a few weeks old. “You wanted to get some supplies for the nursery. You were… nesting,” he smiled down at me lovingly. “I knew better than to argue with you.”

“Nursery?”

He pushed open the door to the smallest bedroom, just past the kitchen.

My breath caught in my chest. The tiny room that resembled a dirty closet in the future was now
illuminated by the window that faced the setting sun. The walls were painted yellow, with delicate, whimsical flowers detailed along the ceiling and floor in ivory, green, and light blue. A wooden cradle, antiqued white, hung from adjacent pedestals, matching a small chest of drawers against the wall. The floor was deep oak, having never seen the abuse of a sander or paint brush.

“You painted the flowers… you were such an artist,” he traced a finger over a flower, lifting his eyes to mine. “
I thought I’d never see this place again.”

“West,” I gripped the plaster wall, shaking. He gathered me in his arms and carried me through the small living room and into the master bedroom.

Laying me gently on the bed, he brushed his palms together, as if they were damp. After watching him run his fingers through his hair, I squirmed, biting through another contraction. “We need to time these,” I said, the back of my neck moist with sweat. “We’re supposed to be timing these… we need a watch.”

“I have one,” he retrieved a gold pocket watch from the dresser. “You just had
a contraction… I’ll start now.”

I took a calming breath, desperately trying to recall the chapters that I read about emergency birth. “
And you have to… to be really clean, because the baby doesn’t have a very good immune system…,”

“Unless she’s immortal,” he hurried to the bathroom, and I was relieved to see it still existed.

“She’s going to be really… slippery,” I gripped the bedspread, widening my eyes. “Ohmygod,” I held my breath, the pain lingering longer in my back than before. West returned in seconds, moving next to me. “My back!” I caught his hand in midair, gripping it with all my strength. “My back feels like it’s breaking,” I sobbed, twisting in agony.

“
That was... less than a minute,” his voice cracked as he watched the ticking hands of his pocket watch. “She’s coming, Roam…,”

“I need to…
push, the
pressure
,” I dropped back to the pillow, cringing at the ceiling. Panic hit with force, and I panted, staring at him in horror. “I’m so afraid!
I can’t do this!
”

“You’re not alone,” he soothed, lowering
his face to my forehead with a kiss. “I’m going to get a few things from the kitchen. I’ll be back before the next one.
Don’t push.
”

“Okay,” I breathed, my knuckles cracking as I twisted the polyester material
of the bedspread in my fingers. I began to tremble, and then shake violently, my teeth rattling uncontrollably inside my mouth.
I’m trapped in a nightmare…

B
ut this is real…

“
I’m going to put a pillow under your back, to help prop you up a little-…,”

Humility rushed through my body at the worst possible moment. I widened my eyes, shaking my head at him, unyielding. My knees locked together as I backed to the headboard. “I can’t let you do this!”

“Roam-…,”

“I can’
t!” I tried to sit up, but another horrible pain began at the top of my buttocks.

“
Roam!
” He gripped my shoulders, fixing his gaze in mine. “You need help. You
can’t do this
by yourself. You’re my wife,
this is our child
. I will not lose you, and I will not lose this baby. This is everything…
she is everything,
” his even voice broke through the terror in my mind. My chin quivered as tears tumbled over my cheeks.

I had decided
, after I had found out that I was pregnant, that I wouldn’t be that dramatic woman in labor, punching her husband and cursing his existence. I’d read everything there was to read, watched YouTube videos of live births, and felt that the more educated I was, the more calm I could be during this very natural- and beautiful- process.

Wrapping my hands around his forearms, I threw my head back and screamed.

I lost all sense of myself as West pulled my dress over my head, tucking a sheet over me. The pain was worse than getting the numbers, worse than drowning, and it happened continuously, every forty-five to sixty seconds. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a blonde curl fell over my eyes, forgetting that I was in a stranger’s body.

Attempting to breathe through pain proved more distracting than anything; as each contraction built, the impending pain was more frightening than the pain itself. I listened to West’s comforting words as he promised it would be over soon. Lying back, I moaned, my throat aching from torturous screams.
Time suffered along slowly, and I very soon lost count of the number of contractions I’d had. I tried to focus on my baby’s face, of what she would look like when I finally held her.

“She won’t be able to breathe,
” I cried, my words an incoherent jumble between contractions. Another was building, and I fought to control my fear. “You have to clean her airways!”

“I know!” He shouted back, the fear in his own voice unmistakable.
He’d gathered towels, a large bowl, long-handled shears, and a baster. “I know, baby, I can take care of her… we just have to get her out here, with us,” he forced a reassuring smile, brushing his fingers over my wet hair.

Push
. The urge was sudden and overwhelming; I attended to it before I could form words.

“Jesus…
wait… Roam, her head… she’s coming,” he readied himself with a towel. I quaked beneath the pressure, sobbing as the burning pain intensified with every moment. “Okay… her head,” he choked, lifting his eyes to mine. “I have her head in my hands, baby, next shoulders, this is hard,” he soothed.

“
No kidding!
” I shrieked, and then winced. “Oh, West, I’m sorry-…,”

“Don’
t apologize- just rest until you feel like you have to push-..,” he stopped speaking, and I heard a watery sucking sound. I turned my head to where the bowl was; the baster was gone.

“
Now
,” I held the headboard over my shoulders, pulling as I rammed my back against the wood for leverage.

In a flash of fiery pressure
, I knew the moment that she came out of me. West wrapped the white towel around the squirming infant in his hands. Focusing on the odd, tugging feeling below my navel, I watched him lift the baby, still wrapped in the towel and attached by a bloody, gray-blue cord.

“
A girl,” he hushed. I stared at him, panting, unable to close my mouth or speak. Tears spilled from his dark blue eyes, and he wiped at them with his shoulders; his hands were covered in blood. “There’s more, baby.”

I understood; in the middle of
my response, the baby in my arms let out a pitiful yowl, breaking into a full-on cry. I gasped, sobbing, unable to see her clearly through my tears.

“She’s crying; that’s good,” I hiccupped, staring down at the child in my arms.
Bursting with frantic laughter, my chest convulsed with sobbing breaths. “Of course she’s crying… she’s mine.”

I gazed at the baby in my arms.

She was born.

The child meant to fulfill the prophecy, the one who would destroy the evil world that Troy came from, was here.

She moved in slow animation, wriggling and turning. I lifted the edge of the white towel and gently brushed her eyebrows and cheeks, careful with her fragile features. West worked beneath me, cleaning and cutting, and I dared not look at what he was doing for fear of missing a single moment of our daughter’s life.

Our daughter.
I mopped at her matted hair, breathing with laughter at the color. “Red,” I finally lifted my eyes to West. He stared at us both, his gaze unwavering. “She has red hair,” I shook my head in disbelief.

“
Your grandmother did. Annie’s,” he corrected softly.

“
What’s her name?” I listened to her cry again, and this time she tightened her tiny fists, her fingers turning bright white.

“You said you’d know when you saw her,” he answered, his voice breaking.

“I don’t know,” I drew the outline of her perfect face with my finger, sighing deeply. “You name her, West.
You’ve waited longer than I have.
”