“Or I can let him make his little trip, and trip-trap him at the actual compound.” Owen straightened in the chair and stared at the monitor, a plan starting to take shape. He clicked the mouse and navigated to the imagery of the compound, measuring the distance of the private road to the cabin from the country highway. Earl wouldn’t be restricted to the circumference of the entrapping electric fence. If Owen came up on the backside of the cabin and raised the man’s interest, he could easily draw the asshole out. “Maybe I’m trying to make this Alace-elegant.” He’d never intended Earl to live through the encounter. “Why make it harder than it needs to be?”
“Kelly,” he called, pushing away from the computer desk as he leaned over, shutting the system down. “You still want to go with me to save Shiloh?”
***
Alace
Eyes closed, Alace let her chin drop to her chest as she took in a deep breath. They were still waiting on the anesthesiologist to arrive, which meant no epidural yet, and the full fury of each contraction remained her current reality.
She licked her lips. Something cold touched the edge of her mouth and Alace jerked back, her hand coming up defensively. A cup and spoon went flying, ice scattering across the blanket covering her bottom half. Eric stared at her, a growing smirk stretching his lips.
“Shut it.” Alace resumed her previous position, keeping her eyes slitted open, this time to watch for another approach. In the three hours they’d been at the hospital so far, Eric had done something similar twice before. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was baiting her somehow. “Let me breathe.”
“What can I do, Alace?” The stark helplessness in his voice made her look directly at him. It wasn’t often Eric showed any uncertainty, but the smile was erased completely, his brows drawn together in a clump of angst that told her this was perhaps more uncomfortable for him, if for a different reason. “I want to do something.”
“There’s nothing for either of us to do.” The progression of her labor had slowed during the trip to the hospital, something the labor nurse told Eric wasn’t surprising. It had given Alace a chance to feel less out of control for a few minutes.
The cycle of contractions had grown familiar at last, and the waves of pain and pressure were predictable. She was currently in the all-too-brief lull between the peaks, her short opportunity to regroup and ready herself. Alace had found the progression oddly comforting, and she’d joked to Eric that it was nice to know her body knew what to do, even if she didn’t have a clue. He hadn’t found it amusing. She hadn’t found his attitude amusing, either, so they were even on that one at least.
“Ah.” Alace grabbed the rails on the sides of the bed as a strong contraction stiffened the walls of her uterus. “Oh, man.” She pulled in quick breaths through her nose, blowing them out in a controlled fashion. “Oh, Jesus.” The muscles in her legs tightened involuntarily, the intense spasm causing her heels to drag up the bed until they were planted on the thin mattress. “God, Eric.” Alace dipped her chin towards her neck, gaze fixed on the changing topography of her belly. She grunted and pulled, simultaneously pushing with her feet. “This is different.” Each word came out on a bitten-off howl, the pain threatening to break her in half.
“Alace.” Eric’s voice was thin with concern. “Don’t, baby.”
“What?” She didn’t have time to wonder what he meant, intent on following her body’s lead down this rabbit hole of relief-seeking that felt so right.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.” His hand covered hers on the railing. “Let go.”
“What?” Nothing he said made sense. His fingers were cold, her body like a furnace in contrast, with sweat beading across her forehead and trailing down her temples.
“Alace, stop it.” Eric’s other hand landed on her stomach, the bump that was the cause of all this, the temporary prison for their child who was now fighting against her body to make her way into the world.
He can’t stop it. The thought burst into her mind fully formed. The course of her labor had changed, and now it felt like being swept along in an avalanche. She couldn’t stop this now if she wanted.
This is his fault. Men and their penises were the cause of pregnancies all over the world. Sure, she’d talked about a baby in a someday way, but she hadn’t meant now. Hadn’t meant today.
The contraction slowed, easing slightly, and Alace deliberately turned her head to face Eric, baring her teeth at him. “Fuckin’ make me.”
The renewed expression of uncertainty on his face would have been comical in any other setting. Right now, Alace failed to find any sliver of humor inside her. She kicked off the blankets and got onto her knees, steadying herself by using the same handrails she’d been yanking on only moments before.
“Alace, what are you doing?” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against him briefly, straightening when another contraction surged over her like a never-ending tide of pain. Eric’s grip balanced her, and Alace gave up control to him, trusting him to shore her up without being told or asked. “Baby, should I get the nurse?”
Head swinging back and forth, Alace bent double, groaning deeply, the volume and timbre of the guttural sound shocking as it rolled out of her. She reached between her legs and felt her sex bulging.
“We need some help in here.” He didn’t move, didn’t shift away from where his strength kept her upright, but Eric called out loudly. “We need some help in here, please.”
Alace had no attention for anything other than him and her body, and this thing they were going through. She kept her hand between her legs, feeling the ebb and flow of the baby’s descent as the contraction grew more intense. The pain was inexorable, all-consuming, so much so that Alace didn’t flinch when other hands landed on her body, gloved hands deftly exploring alongside her own. There was a hum of conversation she couldn’t be bothered with, dialed in on the changes in the process she’d become so accustomed to.
Demanding touches tugged and pulled, and Alace went with them, the contraction over, for now, her muscles like noodles, bones like jelly. On her back but propped high with pillows and Eric’s arm around her shoulders, she stared down her body and into a pair of bright eyes she remembered. The doctor looked at her over the top edge of a mask, the crinkles next to his eyes exposing the smile hidden behind the paper.
“Ready to have this baby, Alace?” He paused and appeared to be sincerely waiting on a response, so Alace nodded once, the movement short and sharp. “Okay, let’s do this thing. I’ll need your help, Alace. We’re going to work together to make it happen.” Another pause, ended when she nodded a second time, the same abrupt movement from before. “When I tell you to, I want you to push exactly like you were before. We’ll do this together in a little more controlled fashion than you’d worked out yourself.”
The monitor next to the bed beeped, and the graph line took on a hockey-stick incline. Alace took in as deep a breath as she could manage, maintaining that eye contact with the doctor the whole time. “Ready.”
“Okay then, here we go. I want you to push, Alace. Push hard. Push. Daddy, help Mommy sit up a little more.” Eric’s arm flexed and lifted her, increasing the angle of her body. She reached out, fingers grasping at nothing as she bore down. “Push, Alace. Push, push, push, push. Perfect. Keep it up, this little one is as eager as you are. Okay, stop pushing, you can stop now. Goodness, if the old wives’ tales are true, I bet you’ve had an upset stomach through the pregnancy, because this little one has a head full of thick hair.”