Page 37

Tommy stopped him, blocking the only exit since we closed the hauler door. And then Kinsley emitted a scream that had us all thinking something was terribly wrong. Dad turned on his heel and rushed over to her. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s having a baby,” Mom snapped, trying to get Kinsley’s jean shorts off. “Help us. Where are those stupid officials? And Caden? Get Caden.”
“I’ll go get Caden. That sounds like a perfect job for me.” Dad took a hold of my shirt and forced me to sit beside Kinsley. “You do this part.”
Mom was quicker and yanked Dad back down next to her. “Oh no you don’t, team owner. Help me.”
“Technically I’m partial owner now,” Dad felt the need to point out.
By the way Mom was staring at him, that meant nothing to her.
With the help of Tommy and Willie, we got Kinsley’s head supported by a Hans device and her legs propped up on rear tires, spread eagle and half-naked.
Dad turned his head. “I don’t want any part of this.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Jameson.” Mom had apparently had enough of his whining and smacked him on the shoulder. “Knock it off and hand me something to cover her up with.”
“Like what?” He gasped. “A towel? I don’t see anything.”
We all glanced around for something while Kinsley screamed bloody murder. And let me tell you, in a hauler with metal walls, it seemed to amplify every sound. If you were standing outside, for sure they thought we were killing her.
Mom motioned to Dad’s driving suit. “Take that off. It works great.”
He raised an eyebrow and unzipped the top half. “What? How would you know?”
“Arie was born in Jimi’s hauler.” Mom continued to rub Kinsley’s shoulder, as did Lily. “He used it to cover me up.”
I knew my dad hadn’t been there when I was born in the pits of Skagit Raceway. What I didn’t know was that my grandpa had helped deliver me. Warmth hit me, a smile soon afterward that he’d been a part of it.
Without much warning, or pushing on her part, Kinsley had the baby and Dad basically caught her. “Holy shit,” he gasped, pale as a ghost as he stared down at the tiny newborn in his hands. “Is that normal? Do they usually come shooting out like that?”
Rosa swept Kinsley’s hair from her forehead. “That’s impressive. Not many people can shoot a baby out of their coochie with that speed.”
“Rosa!” Lily gasped, gathering the baby into Dad’s fire suit.
“I’m never wearing that one again,” Dad noted, scooting back away from what looked to be the placenta coming out of Kinsley. “I don’t feel so well.”
Admittedly, even I was a little bit nauseous over this one.
In all the commotion, Caden and Rager had returned to the pits. Caden peeked his head inside. “What’s going on?” His eyes widened. “Holy shit. You had the baby?”
“Thank fuck,” Dad groaned, wearing only his boxers and a T-shirt. “Get your ass over here.”
“Where are the kids?” Rager asked, pulling me into his chest when I spotted him.
I looked back at Rager, smiling when he placed his hands on my shoulders. “I have no clue.”
“Gray is watching them,” Rosa told us, pulling out two juice boxes from her nanny pack. She handed one to Caden. “Congrats. Drinks on me.”
“Is this orange juice?” Caden asked, staring at the carton, and then his newborn baby with what I could only describe as shock.
“Drink it and find out.” Rosa smiled. “We don’t know.”
“What’s her name?” Lily questioned, tears in her eyes as the paramedics rushed in to help us.
“Jameson Grace.” Kinsley smiled, sighing at the man who delivered her.
Dad, though he appeared proud, was more than likely having a panic attack. If you knew my dad, you understood his fear of anything on his skin. And the fact that he had baby juice on him, as Tommy so disgustingly put it, he didn’t look well. In fact, he… yep… threw up just outside the hauler.