Page 11 of Reckless

Victoria shakes her head, tears falling harder now. “N-not the blue one.” Her voice breaks completely. “The one I bought for him. The one I was bringing him home in.”

The room seems to soften around her.

All at once, this isn’t about contractions, ambulances, or how quickly everything has gone sideways. It’s about a mother mourning the picture she’d been carrying in her head for nine months.

Sin cups her face, brushing away tears with his thumbs even though they keep coming. “We’ll get the blue blanket,” he says quietly.

She gives the smallest shake of her head. “He was supposed to have it.”

“And he will.” His forehead rests against hers for a heartbeat. “I don’t care if I have to drive home from the hospital the second he’s in your arms and bring back every blanket in that nursery. Our son is coming home wrapped in the blue one.”

Victoria lets out a broken sob that somehow manages to sound relieved at the same time.

Sin bends over her, both hands framing her face, thumbs stroking along her cheekbones. “We’ll get the blue blanket later.”

Victoria’s eyes fill. “But he needs it.”

“He needs you,” Sin says, and his voice roughens enough that everyone in the room pretends not to hear it. “He needs you right now, Vicky. So you look at me, and you do what Marley says, and when this is over, I will personally drive, get every blanket in that damn nursery, and bring them back to him one by one if that’s what you want.”

Her mouth trembles. “You promise?”

“On my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“On yours, then.”

She swallows hard, then nods. The next contraction builds—I feel it in her hand before she makes a sound. Her fingers clamp around mine, and I swear something in my knuckles shifts, but all I do is lean closer and brace my other hand against her shoulder. Ro whispers something soft near her ear. Marley talks her through it, her voice steady, and Ghost repeats whatever the person on the phone is telling him, but all of that becomes background to Sin.

His entire world is Victoria’s face. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Right here with me. I’ve got you. I’ve got every second of you.”

Victoria pushes, and the sound that comes out of her is not something I will ever forget. It is pain, rage, fear, strength, and every ounce of stubborn fire that makes her who she is, dragged out in one long, shaking cry while the entire clubhouse holds its breath around her. My eyes burn. Ro cries silently, not wiping it away. Koa clasps both hands behind his head like it is the only thing stopping him from punching a hole through a wall. Bear stands with his arms folded, but his eyes are glassy and fixed on Victoria as though he is guarding sacred ground.

“Good,” Marley says. “That’s good, Vic. Again with the next one.”

“If you say good again,” Victoria pants. “I’m going to bite someone.”

“Bite Sin,” I tell her. “He started it.”

She gives a broken little laugh.

Sin looks at me with enough gratitude that I have to look away.

Because that is too much.

That is not president gratitude, brother gratitude, or even friend gratitude. That is a man silently thanking me for dragging his wife back to herself for half a breath while he cannot do anything except hold on.

The next contraction comes faster.

Too fast.

Victoria sobs once, and the sound seems to devastate her more than the contractions ever could. She squeezes her eyes shut, angry at herself for losing control, but there is nowhere left to hide from any of this.

Sin catches the sound before it can unravel her completely, his mouth pressing gently against her temple. “No shame, sweetheart.” His voice is low enough that I almost miss it. “None. You hear me?”

She shakes her head against him. “I can’t.”

“You can.”