Page 90 of Belonging to Them
“Bash!”King shouts.“Bash, get off him.Fuck?—”
Something about King’s voice penetrates my blind rage.I turn around.
Dark wetness blossoms from his chest.
My friend has been shot.
TWENTY-FOUR
Ella
The popping sound of gunfire shouldn’t be a comfort, but it is—because I think it means we’re being rescued.
I just hope everyone on our side is okay.Kingston and Sebastian wouldn’t be out there, would they?The police would want them to wait outside.
But would they listen to the police?
Probably not.
Gianna is breathing like birthing women do in the movies, big huge breaths of power and pain.Her face twists in anguish as contraction after contraction takes her.She’s barely getting any rest at all between them, now.This baby is on the way.
“Okay, Gianna, you got this,” I say, kneeling in front of her and helping Tommy take her leggings off.I never thought I’d be this close to my brother’s girlfriend’s vagina, but here I am.
Tommy, to his credit, is right next to me, a hand on Gianna’s knee, and encouraging words on his lips.His face and body have been battered for days, and yet he’s here and supporting Gianna, just like he ought to.
Voices shout beyond the door, but in this little room, it feels like a different world.
“I think the police are here,” Tommy says.“Can you hold off pushing, Gianna?”
She shakes her head and cries out in pain again.“I have to push!”
“There’s nothing else to do—this baby is coming right the fuck now,” I say.
“Then I guess it’s up to you and me and Gianna,” Tommy says.
“We’re here for you,” I tell Gianna.“You can do this.We’re all going to greet your beautiful baby, just push for us again, okay?”
She yells loudly and bears down.The slippery infant emerges into Tommy’s hands just as the door to the tiny room bursts open.Several men and women in tactical gear stand on the other side of the door, gaping in surprise.
The baby lets loose a loud, healthy wail.Tommy holds the baby in his arms, a look of combined surprise and absolute love on his face.My heart swells, too, as the baby flails its brand new arms and Tommy holds him close.Emotion thickens in my chest and throat, and tears fill my eyes.Maybe this is isn’t the birth any of us imagined for this baby, but the baby’s here now and we’re all going to be safe.
“She—no,he—is beautiful,” I tell Gianna.
“Our little boy is perfect,” Tommy says, and he’s crying, too.He moves closer to pass the baby to Gianna.She cradles him against her chest, crying happy tears.
“We need a doctor—an ambulance,” I say.“And someone needs to cut the cord, I guess?”
“I’m a trained emergency responder,” one of the men says, striding forward.“An ambulance is waiting outside, too.”
My shoulders relax.All that responsibility—I don’t have to carry it anymore.People who know what they’re doing are finally here, thank heavens.Someone wraps up the baby, cuts the cord, and starts to see to Gianna.I hold her hand while I hug Tommy, but I’m already looking toward the door.Surely Kingston and Sebastian are out there somewhere, looking for me?
Sure enough, Sebastian strides forward, face pale, strained, his mouth in a grim line.He lights up when he sees me, though, and in no time he’s tugging me into an embrace, those giant tattooed arms wrapping around me and holding me close.I sigh in relief.His heartbeat is strong and solid.
“Ella,” he murmurs into my curls.“Ella, you’re alive.”
“Yes.I knew you would come.”
“Of course we did.Marco Ruberetta’s in police custody, and so is Keith Mayberry and the others.”He leans back so he can look over my face.His jaw clenches as he takes in my injuries—my swollen eye, my cut lip.“They hurt you.”
