Sticks (Black Addiction #2) (29 page)

“Yeah, we should do that.” I hugged Kenzie tighter, loving the weight of her body against me. My silent resolve intensifying that I’d never let her go.

“I’ve got everything I need.”

It had been hours.

Not just felt like hours, like literally hours as we paced the floor of the hospital room. The baby had still yet to make his or her grand entrance as Kenzie bent over the bed while another contraction took hold.

“God, I hate you,” she screamed, her hand crushing my fingers so tight I wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to snap a bone. “I can’t believe you did this to me. I want a divorce.”

Nice, she was feeling charitable this time around, leaving out threats to my dick and balls as she tried to breathe through the pain. She’d already threatened me with my walking papers no less than five times, so I wasn’t even flinching at this point. Just hoping like hell this kid would be born soon so this cycle of agony would end for her.

“Breathe through it, baby. I love you.” My hands rubbed circles on her back even though she’d warned me not to touch her. Her body sagged as the tension slowly eased out, hopefully a little closer to the end.

Kenzie’s water had broken early this morning, and like all first-time parents we’d taken our pre-packed bag to the hospital excited to meet our son or daughter.
Someone
—cough, Kenzie—had decided we should wait until the birth to find out, so we were still clueless as to whether we were going to be vomiting pink or blue onesies. Not that it mattered—I would be happy with either—but I digress.

While we were admitted quickly, smiles beaming and ready for action, we soon found out that we weren’t even close to getting this baby born. A bunch of irregular contractions and a few hours later and the good doctor decided to start an IV.

What the chick in the white coat had failed to mention was that she was injecting Satan juice into my wife. While the bag-of-whatever had brought on regular contractions—its intended purpose—it also turned the beautiful woman that I loved into a crazed psychopath. No shit, that crap needed a warning label and a side of Valium for whomever else was in the room. And a priest; because if that
wasn’t
demonic possession happening in front of my eyes, then I had no fucking idea.

Of course after the wave of pain eased off, it was like a shot of reality hit and she was instantly sorry for anything she said. Her tear-filled apology making me feel like an asshole even though I hadn’t done anything. Until the next one, and then she’d tell me exactly why I
was
an asshole and which piece of my body she wanted to dismember.

The divorce threats came about four hours in. She’d looked me dead in the eyes as the pain intensified and told me she was done. She also never wanted to see my penis again, and if I even thought about sex she would remove my testicles one by one with a blunt knife.

It became a trend over the next few hours. Each time the needle would spike on the monitor attached to her stomach, I would brace myself for whatever wrath she had prepared. Her insults intensifying as did the contractions, the pain relief they’d given her not even making a dent.

“Hey, doc.” I nodded to Kenzie’s Ob-something as she walked back in to check the progress. “You want to crank up the volume on the pain meds? My girl is struggling.”

It wasn’t about the insults, or even the anger—fuck, I would take all of that with a smile if it meant I had a healthy baby and wife at the end. It was watching the unimaginable pain on Kenzie’s face that was doing me in. Her eyes pleading for relief while I sat there, unable to help. It was my own private hell.

“I know.” She smiled sympathetically having heard some of Kenzie’s greatest hits. “I think it might be time for an epidural.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Kenzie moaned as her head fell forward on the bed. “It hurts so much.”

“It’s okay, baby. We’re going to give you something that helps. You’re doing such a great job.” My heart fucking bleeding that I couldn’t do more for her right now. We were never doing this again. I would happily only have one child and be fucking thankful if they both made it out of this in one piece.

“How can you say that? I have been nothing but horrible. I told you I wanted a divorce four times.” The tears streamed down her face as she turned to look at me, the baby giving her a minute or two reprieve.

“Actually it was five, but considering you haven’t mentioned chopping my balls off the last few times, I’d say we’re all good.” My effort to try and make her laugh backfiring as it just escalated the waterworks.

Which led to another contraction. This one so strong she couldn’t even yell at me anymore, she just cried and screamed, her face contorted into something that no longer resembled a human.

Awesome.

We are never doing this again.

Ever.

We’ll adopt. Or get a dog. And I was going to go straight down the hall and ask someone for a vasectomy. Hell, just give me the knife and I would do the damn thing myself.

“Baby, look at me.” I wrapped my arms around her, hoping like hell I wasn’t making it worse. “You are fucking amazing, I would have tapped out by now—no question. Please let the doc give you something to help. I love you so much, baby. I hate to see you like this.”

She nodded, too tired to give me actual words but I didn’t care, just fucking ecstatic she’d given up the superwoman routine.

We quickly went through the risks and signed the waver, Kenzie so exhausted at this point she could no longer stand. Her body curled on its side on the bed as we waited for them to put in the epidural.

She had two more contractions before she was able to be still enough for the line and then—a fucking miracle.

Fat baby angels descended from heaven as the cloud of evil lifted from my wife. Like a television evangelist had placed his hand on her head and cast the demon out, she opened her eyes and wept tears of joy. I might have wept too but I was too busy giving the dude who hooked her up a huge bear hug, my emotional gratitude met with an awkward smile.

Kenzie’s body slowly relaxed, the meds doing their job as she closed her eyes. The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding slowly expelled from my lungs as I sat beside her and watched her sleep.

I caught a few Z’s myself, my hand around hers as I floated in and out. It was going to be a long night. Or day. I had no actual idea of what time it was. Nor did I care. As long as I was here with her, the world could end outside and it wouldn’t have mattered.

“It’s time.” I heard the doc’s voice and I peeled open an eye, Kenzie already sitting up with her knees spread apart.

Shit. What had I missed?

“Nothing yet.” The nurse answered, my internal dialogue being less internal than I thought.

“Okay, Kenzie.” The doc moved to the business end of the bed, her gloved hands disappearing under the sheet. “Next time you feel a contraction, I need you to push.”

Kenzie nodded as I flew out of the chair, my feet hitting the floor like a soldier called to attention. “I’m right here, baby.” I grabbed her hand ready to do whatever I could to make this easier.

“Just don’t leave,” Kenzie begged as she tightened the death grip around my fingers.

“Never.” I looked her in the eyes, the easiest promise I’d ever have to make.

Before the baby was born, we had done what most future parents did. We read the books, we watched the videos, and we even went to the prenatal classes to get “ready” for when it was show time. But all that shit we read and watched could never prepare us for what happened next.

They don’t tell you that watching the life you created take its first breath makes you feel like a greater man than anything you’ve ever done. They don’t tell you that the love and respect for your wife is going to multiply by a million and you’re going to feel like a douchebag because you hadn’t known it sooner. And they don’t tell you that your heart is going to expand so much that your chest aches when you hold your daughter for the first time.

She was perfect.

Just like her mother.

Our little girl had let out a yell that would put Ozzy Osbourne to shame and hadn’t stopped until they’d laid her on Kenzie’s chest. Her eyes scrunched tight as her hand curled around my finger.

“You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you.” I fucking cried like a pussy as I kissed my wife’s forehead and repeated the same action on my beautiful little girl. “She’s going to be just like you.”

“We did it.” Kenzie wiped her eyes with one hand as she cradled our daughter with the other. “I couldn’t have done this without you. I’m sorry for all those things I said.”

“I knew that wasn’t you, and I would have taken a hundred times worse just to have this moment right now.” I brushed her hair away from her face. “So, I was thinking about a name.”

“I’m not sure I have the mental energy, baby.” Kenzie laughed, our previous name debates always being fruitless.

“Layla,” I whispered. “She’s got me on my knees and turned my whole world around.” The words of the Eric Clapton song ironically appropriate. I was even willing to overlook he wasn’t American. It was still a great name.

“I like that. A lot actually.” Kenzie smiled before looking down at our little girl. “Layla. She is totally going to be a rock star.”

“Of course.” I grinned. “With us as parents, how could she not?”

***

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Thank you to my
family who has been there every step of the way. Gep, Jenna, Liam and Woodley, you are my pit crew and cheerleaders. Love you all so much.

Thanks to my amazing extended family and friends. Whether there are blood ties or not, we stand together, always.

Special thanks to my beta team who are quick and insightful. MK, Maz and Danielle, you guys are the bomb diggity.

Thank you to the authors who tolerate my madness and welcome my friendship. Your love, support and respect are more than I could have ever hoped for. Lili Saint Germain, JB Hartnett, Monica James, Skyla Madi, CJ Duggan, Lilliana Andersen, Rachael Brookes, JD Nixon, Natasha Preston, Kirsty Mosely, Jane Harvey-Berrick, Ker Dukey, LA Casey, Jill Patten, Tillie Cole, Andie Long, Abbi Glines, Chantal Fernando, Helena Hunting, Christina Hobbs and Lauren Billings, Penelope Louleas, Jay Crownover, Kim Karr, SC Stephens, Joanna Wylde and Kylie Scott—and to anyone I’ve left out.

Hang Le—you are a master, perfection every time. Thank you so very much.

Thank you to the bloggers and blogs who have and continue to support me. Your shout outs, shares, likes, comments and reviews are invaluable. I adore you.

Thanks to the T Gephart Entourage for the love and the laughs.

Alexander Skarsgård—Just because.

Thanks to my Fictionally Yours, Melbourne team with special mention to Penny Rudge. #MemesAndObscenities, I laugh so hard every time.

Thanks to my editor, Nichole Strauss, from Perfectly Publishable. You get me and all of my fucks, Troy Harris forever.

Thank you to my proofreaders for picking up pesky mistakes.

Thanks to Max Henry from Max Effect for her stellar formatting, epic work.

And lastly, a HUGE thanks to my readers. Whether you’ve been there from the start or we’ve just met, thanks so much for enjoying my words. I hope you meet as many of you as I can across my travels, you rock my world.