Page 76 of King of Hearts

A thick ball of pain swelled in my throat. It felt like I was going to cry or some shit. I cleared the sensation with a quick cough. Of course, it was just a joke to her; I’d known that even when I had stood in front of Ivan and told him I had already taken his daughter, told him he’d need to figure out his shit if he wanted anything from me.

“Well regardless, your dad thinks it’s real, so just fucking roll with it, if that won’t be too much trouble for you.”

I stalked out of the kitchen before she could reply.

* * *

A soundfrom outside in the hall woke me in the middle of the night. I threw the covers off, hating the feel of the shitty thread count, and maybe just hating the fact that it wasn’t mine. After my argument with Taylor, I had ended up taking a bottle of whiskey with me up to the guest room and then proceeded to pass the fuck out.

I had washed down my presumptions with the burn of the alcohol and let my self-hate surface in hopes that it would drown. That was hours ago, though, and I hadn’t even had dinner with her. I’d just left her standing there with that fucking comment she’d made. I had locked the door too, so there was no chance of her coming in and using me to get off.

I was bitter knowing that the only pleasure she had in me at all was that I was a convenient fuck, an easy way to get off without any drama or strings attached.

The sound rumbled from the hall once more as I moved, pushing one palm into my eye socket and grappling with the locked door with the other. I swung it open, grateful that most of the lights were out, except for the one at the end of the hall.

“That’s my bedroom light,” I muttered out loud…or probably, more accurately, I mumbled it. I wasn’t drunk anymore, which meant it was likely in the wee hours of the morning, but I sure as fuck didn’t feel well.

I stumbled down the hall until my room came into view, and the sight before me sobered me immediately.

“Taylor? What’s wrong—what happened?” I ran to her crumpled form on the floor. She had her phone in one hand and gripped the sheet with the other. There, tangled around her thighs, were the rest of my white sheets, like she’d fallen out of bed…but… “Fuck. Why is there blood? What’s going on?”

I pulled her face back so I could see if she was coherent, but all I could see were her eyes tightly closed and her jaw clenched shut.

She was making some kind of low whining sound, so I at least knew she was conscious.

“Taylor, baby? What’s going on?” I moved my hand to her belly, and it was hard as a rock.

“I think…” She gasped, breathing in through her nose and audibly out through her mouth. “I think I might be in labor.”

I grabbed the phone from her hand to check her outgoing calls; the screen was open on the dial pad, with just the number nine dialed. I finished it off, calling for an ambulance. The operator began asking a myriad of questions, and I put the phone on speaker so Taylor could answer them. She kept her eyes closed while gripping my hand.

“Am I going to lose her?” Taylor whispered while a few tears fell down her face.

“Shhh, no, baby, no.” I rubbed her back, praying I was right.

I stayed there, soothing her back for ten minutes until a man and a woman wearing dark blue uniforms came running up the stairs with equipment. I moved so they had full access to Taylor. They seemed to take forever to check her vitals and asked her ten thousand fucking questions when all I wanted was for them to get her to the ambulance.

Then everything changed in an instant when the female EMT looked up at me with a calm expression and said, “Sir, your wife is in active labor. She’s too far along for us to move her, so we’re going to deliver the baby here. If you aren’t comfortable being in the room, please leave.”

I tried to catch a breath, realizing I was about to hyperventilate right there in my boxers. Taylor’s baby girl was about to be born, and I wasn’t even dressed. I blinked, walked toward the closet, and pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Then I grabbed a baby blanket and one of the diapers Taylor had set up in the small travel caddy thing. I wasn’t sure what she’d need, so I nearly grabbed every damn thing in the closet.

I could hear both of them talking in soothing tones to Taylor while they moved her to the bed. I heard one of them mention that they’d called Taylor’s doctor, but she hadn’t found a permanent one and like fuck would Dr. Kline be delivering this baby.

I pulled up my phone and dialed my mom.

“Mom, Taylor’s in labor…I need you.”

My mom gasped then muttered a few things sleepily to my dad in the background. “I’m coming, mijo.”

I hung up and moved back toward Taylor. Hector and a few men had migrated in, hovering outside the door, unsure how they could help.

“We need clean towels and extra sheets. I need you to come and get behind her, help keep her propped up,” the paramedic directed while she set up a few medical tools from her large bag.

My men ran off, hunting for extra towels and sheets while I did as they said. Taylor was in the middle of the bed, wearing some kind of soft robe that was tied at her breasts but opened over her belly; otherwise she was bare from the waist down. She had her knees up and was breathing in the pattern she’d learned in one of her Lamaze videos.

I crawled up behind her, and she immediately gripped my hand in support.

“That’s right, keep breathing, baby.” I kissed her forehead, feeling panic begin to swell as the EMTs began to direct Taylor on what to do. They said someone was coming to help deliver, but I had a feeling this baby was coming before anyone could get there, including my mom.

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