Page 130 of Desperate Games

But I’m too busy concentrating on my labor pains to pay any attention to them.

Remy only holds me tighter, his lips at my ear, murmuring over and over, a litany of love and certainty as my world spins.

“It’s gonna be okay. You hear me, Andy? It’s gonna be okay, my love. I’ve got you. Always.”

And somehow, even through the pain, I believe him.

Chapter Forty-Four-Remy

The delivery room is chaos.

Alarms. Beeping. Lights.

Nurses moving too fast.

Fucking Volkovs everywhere.

Andy gripping my hand like she’s trying to break every bone in it—and trust me, if I could take her pain, I would. Ten times over.

“Remy—” she sobs, hair plastered to her forehead, eyes wide with pain and fire.

“I’m here, Baby. I’ve got you,” I choke, kissing her temple even though my throat feels like it’s closing. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known. You can do this.”

Birth isn’t easy. It’s not like TV or the romance books tell you it is.

There’s blood, sweat, tears, and various other fluids. There’s the slow-moving hands of the clock. The constant barrage of nurses, orderlies and doctors in and out of the room.

And the sight of the love of your life fighting to bring your children into this world?

That’s the clincher. That is the sight that does me in.

This woman? My woman?

She’s a goddamn miracle.

She is so fucking strong.

Stronger than she knows. Stronger than you or me could ever be.

Then it happens.

First one thin, wailing cry fills the air—sharp, insistent, the sound of life itself.

A boy. Our boy.

I swear my heart fucking explodes.

But before I can even process it, the doctor barks, “One more push, Mrs. Falco!”

And my wife, my warrior, bears down, body trembling with exhaustion.

Another cry pierces the room, higher-pitched this time. A girl.

Both of them.

A son and a daughter.

And Andy collapses back, chest heaving, tears streaming, her beautiful face wrecked and glowing at the same time.