Page 73 of Hell In A Handbasket
“I’m gonna check you, okay?” Scrunching her face, Minka slips her hand into the front of Christabelle’s sleep shorts. It’s like all my filthiest, nastiest fantasies wrapped up in one luxury bus, but this isn’t hot. None of this is what I wanted. “You ready? I’m about to touch.”
“Okay.” Christabelle drops her head and whimpers. “It’s not supposed to be this painful so soon, right? First babies are always slow to arrive, which means labor is slow.”
“Took me dayyyyys,” Jess announces. “Felt like an eternity moving from three centimeters to four. And then they cut me open anyway.”
“You’ve skipped a lot of the waiting.” Minka shakes her head, dragging her hand free and accepting the towel Aubree offers. “That’s about seven or eight centimeters already.”
“What?” Bells ring in my ears, thedong-dong-dongthat competes with my pulse. My toes tingle. My fucking legs tingle. “Eight is too many. It’s too much!”
“Time for you to sit.” Archer claps a hand to the back of my head and shoves me down. “Big bad Felix Malone isn’t coping.”
“Cope!” Christabelle snarls. “You better cope, Felix, or I will hurt you!”
“Two minutes out,” Jay announces. “Hold on. I’m gonna see if this bitch drifts.”
“No drifting!” Spence runs straight through our mid-aisle crowd, knocking Archer forward and skipping the puddle at Christabelle’s feet. “You’ll flip us, fucker.”
“Someone’s gotta call a doctor,” Soph adds. “This town is smaller than my payroll list. They’re not gonna have a bunch of OBGYNs just waiting for this one chick to turn up.”
“Shit!” Aubree sprints back to her cubby, shoving Tim out of the way and tossing blankets and sheets aside. She throws their pillows and flings a pair of flip-flops into the air. Then she finds her phone and spins back. “Raquel’s brother is the doctor here, isn’t he?”
“You’rea doctor.” I slap Archer’s hand away and rise to my feet, swaying and bracing myself against the wall as I blink through the darkness. I swallow the ball of nausea piling in my throat, then I blink once more and look to Aubree. To Minka. “You’re doctors.”
“Teccccchnically,” Jen saunters forward with a smug grin. “I’m a doctor, too. So lemme know if you need me to step in.”
“Having a doctorate is not the same as being a practicing doctor.” Minka leans around and searches Christabelle’s eyes. “Same as a practicing OBGYN is far more equipped to deliver a baby than me or Aubree. Just hold on a little longer and?—”
“I’ve gotta push.” Crying out, she fists the sheets and grits her teeth. “Godddddd, the baby’s making me push.”
“No pushing!” Aubree and Minka shout together. Then Minka snatches Christabelle’s hand and squeezes. “No! You can’t push that baby out until we’re inside the hospital.”
“It’s happening too quickly.” I shove my fingers through my hair and pace. Because Minka is on Christabelle’s right. Aubree on the left. And dammit, Jen and Archer take her back. “This is too fast, and there’s no room for me. It’s too fast,” I repeat, frenzied and sick. “I don’t know how to help.”
“One minute!” Jay tears the bus around a dark corner, bouncing on the curb and bracing with his foot on the dash. “Sorry! That was my bad.”
“Raquel!” Aubree shouts into her phone, clutching at the wall and leaning against Tim’s chest so she remains standing. “We’ve got a baby coming. Is there a doctor already at the hospital?”
“What kinda stupid hospital doesn’t have a doctor on duty?” Minka holds Christabelle’s hips and steadies her as we come around another corner. “How do these people live?”
“I’ve gotta poop.” Horrified, Christabelle swings her head up and around. “Oh no. I’ve gotta poop.”
“It’s a trap!” Soph calls out. Entirely fucking relaxed, she tosses candy between her lips and chews with her mouth open. “The poop is not poop. Ask me how I know.”
“No pooping!” Minka snaps. “You’re not allowed to poop.”
“Is it my cousin?” Cato pulls his hair, the dark locks standing on end. “Is it my niece or nephew? Which is more important?” He grabs Micah by the shirt and yanks him forward. “Which is more important, dammit?!”
“We’re a minute away,” Aubree barks into the phone. “But she already wants to push, so get your brother to the hospital before this shit goes sideways.”
“No sideways!” I whip a shirt from our bed, wet patch and all, and drag it on. “There will benosideways today! Darling?” I muscle between her and Aubree. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
“It hurts so much.” She whimpers through a contraction. “Felix…”
“I know, Darling. I know?—”
“Hold on!” Jay tears the bus off the road and up the gutter, barreling across the sidewalk and into the hospital parking lot, which is smaller than my own, personal fucking driveway. “Hold on to something.”
I clutch the wall with one hand and wrap my other arm around Christabelle’s back, and when he slams his foot to the brakes and brings the bus to a skidding stop, I start moving again. “Alright, Darling. It’s time to get off now.”
