Page 11 of Roxy’s Independence (Mayhem Makers – MMM: Deviant Knights MC #3)
CHAPTER
TEN
Roxy
We’re going to have to pay extra for not cleaning the cabin and leaving before we were scheduled to, but it’s money well spent in my mind because Easton, Selah, and Butcher need us.
I’ve been on and off the phone with a terrified Hannah, who, along with her sisters, have seen the detrimental outcome of the birth if I’m not there in time to deliver their baby brother.
Weston and I switch places in the car at the emergency room drop off as the ambulance comes rushing into the bay with sirens blaring. We realize it’s carrying Easton when Python comes tumbling out with a trembling Kinsley in his arms.
“Go!” I shout to my husband as I give him the quickest peck on the lips I’ve ever given him before jumping into the driver’s seat and peeling out of the parking lot.
My thumbs are drumming on the steering wheel as I navigate through the streets that’ll lead me to the clubhouse. Nervous energy radiates from the back seat, strong emotions permeate from my kids, strong enough that I nearly choke on it.
“It’s going to be alright,” I reassure them.
“Hannah says you have to be there, Mom,” Canyon reminds me. “It’ll be critical if you’re not because nobody else is there with the knowledge of what’s wrong with the baby.”
“I’ll be there, I promise,” I state.
I have to be because the girls are never wrong with their predictions.
Ten minutes later, with tires squealing, I pull in between the gates as a member waves me in. I don’t take the time to assess who it is standing guard, but seeing the Imperial Knights patch on his back eases my mind. We’re home. We made it.
I zip into the parking space and jump out of the car. “Canyon, shut the car off and get your sister inside. Y’all can rest in the lounge,” I shout over my shoulder as I sprint through the doors.
“Fucking finally,” Butcher grumbles as he stops his pacing long enough to grab me by the forearm and steers me into the infirmary.
“We drove as fast as we could,” I tell him, biting my tongue and not bitching about the fact that his grip is a little tougher than it needs to be.
“She needs you, Roxy. I don’t know what to do. Something’s wrong,” he rattles, his voice sounding restless and beaten down.
“I’ll take care of her, Butcher,” I swear. When we breach the doorway, Selah is panting, her face is red and she’s sweating.
“Roxy,” she mumbles. “He’s not moving as much as he was yesterday.”
“That’s normal,” I disclose. “Let me check you out and see where we’re at.”
“Butcher, help me out of my clothes,” Selah says as she climbs off the bed with shaky legs. “I forgot how much this hurts.”
As I gather my supplies so I can check her cervix I reply, “That’s because if we remembered, we’d never do it again.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” she responds as Butcher kneels at her feet and pulls down her pajama bottoms. “Panties too, baby.”
“Okay,” he raspily replies before dragging them down her legs and helping her climb back on the delivery bed I ordered when women started popping up pregnant.
A memory from a year ago pops in my head at that thought.
Weston insisted that I drank only bottled water once the third pregnancy was confirmed, convinced there was something causing fertility placed in the well.
It’s a conspiracy in the men’s opinions. Wrecker blames Jericho, believing the Fates are preparing for the next generation of supes to be born so they can save the world from the things we haven’t.
Although, after everything I’ve witnessed, it wouldn’t surprise me if they are right about that.
All of these pieces of the puzzle are waiting to be clicked together.
I firmly believe the kids are the nexus of the future.
They’re going to have to clean up whatever mess we leave behind when we leave this world.
It’s not fair, I hate it for them, but I don’t have the power to see the future so I’m sure there are mystical reasons behind the plethora of births happening on our side of the club.
With Butcher’s help, I get the belts wrapped around Selah’s waist so we can hear the heartbeat before I check her circumference. As I listen to the dwindling thumping beat of the baby’s heart resting in her womb, I get more concerned.
My eyes meet Butcher’s and when he notices how pale I’ve gotten, he bristles. “What?” he barks. Then uses a line on me that all of the men have adopted. “Talk to me, Roxy.”
“He’s in distress,” I confess. “I need to get in there, Butcher, and it’s going to hurt… a lot. I need to see if the cord is wrapped around his neck because it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
If it’s not the cord then we’re in more trouble than I’m willing to admit.
I have all of the tools and meds required for a C-section, but I don’t have Weston here to assist me.
I don’t have an anesthesiologist on standby.
If things are as dire as I’m starting to think they are, we don’t have time to get her to a hospital where I have help.
“Do what you have to do, Roxy,” Selah pants. “The baby is all that matters. Pain is fleeting, isn’t that what you always say?”
“I wish people would stop using my sayings against me,” I mumble.
I pull the stirrups from the bed and settle her legs inside of them. As I lift my head up, tears gather in my eyes as I see Butcher’s forehead connected to Selah’s, his hand firmly gripping hers as if he can ward off the pain I’m about to inflict upon her.
Clearing my throat, I ask them, “Y’all ready?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Butcher answers for the both of them.
Licking my lips and asking for guidance, I begin searching for the cause of the baby’s declining heartbeat. As my hands blindly find the umbilical cord, a searing, intense light flashes in the room as I feel a comforting hand settle on my shoulder.
“A helping hand to keep you grounded,” an ethereal voice says, his tone comforting, keeping me calm. As waves of tranquility flow through me, I easily and immediately find and recognize the problem. His cord is pinched, not wound around him and it’s restricting the blood flow.
“We have to get the baby out, now. I’m sorry, Selah, but I’m going to have to put you to sleep.”
The celestial man and his essence leave me as he floats over to Selah, sets his hand on her forehead and lays down some magical dust and utters, “Sleep.”
Butcher prepares to jump across the table at the transcendental being, but before he gets the chance to pounce, the man raises his arm and says, “Calm.”
“You may work in peace now, my child.” And in a trance, I go through each trained step. And before I’m aware of what I’ve done, I come out of it and place the squalling boy on Selah’s chest.
“What the fuck just happened?” I ask, but as I turn on my feet to find my helper, the man has dematerialized as quickly as he appeared.
The man himself may be gone, but apparently he’s still around because the same voice answers, “You saved them both.”
Shaking my head, I continue working, delivering the placenta, and cleaning Selah up and checking her to make sure no bleeding outside of what is expected is happening.
“They didn’t teach that in school,” I mumble to myself as the parents come out of their bewitchment and look down on their baby boy in awe.
“Welcome to the world, my son,” Selah croaks. “We love you, Kai.”