had impressive security. I liked that—meant some freak wouldn’t be able to walk off with our little girl. Then they opened the doors and Tom led the way to the birthing suite, and I heard a woman crying out.
“Stay strong, son,” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s not you who has to do the heavy lifting today.”
He knocked on the door, and Janelle Baxter opened it, her face tight with strain.
“Hey, Gage,” she said. “Sadie said you could come in, but she’d like you to stay up by her head. There’s a sheet, and if you happen to see too much, just don’t say anything about it, okay? This is a tough day for her.”
“She’s a brave young woman,” I said, meeting her gaze. “How’s she holding up?”
“Good,” Janelle responded. “It’ll be hard on her, I think we all know that. But it’s also the right decision. She isn’t having second thoughts.”
I swallowed, nodding my head. Tinker and I had discussed the possibility, of course, but neither of use liked thinking about it.
Inside the room, Sadie was on a bed that’d been tilted way up, with a bar hanging over it for her to hold on to. The midwife was sitting on stool between her widespread legs, and Tinker stood next to her, holding her hand. The midwife glanced up.
“Just in time,” she said. “This baby’s excited to be born—first births usually don’t go half this fast.”
Sadie was panting, her face utterly focused.
“There’s another one coming,” she gasped.
“Go ahead and give me a big push,” the midwife said. “Her head is just starting to crown. We’re getting closer, Sadie girl. You’re doing a great job.”
“Mom, come hold my other hand,” Sadie said, and if she saw me, she didn’t give any sign.
I’d been a member of the Reapers MC for a long time, and over the years I’d seen a lot of shit. Brave men, strong men. Men who gave everything for the club. I can tell you with all honesty, though, that I never met any man stronger than Sadie Baxter was that day. I mean, I knew giving birth was hard. But knowing it and seeing it for yourself, well, that’s a different thing entirely. I lost track of time as Sadie pushed, shoving our baby into the world inch by inch. Sweat ran down her face, but she clutched hands with her mom and Tinker and she pushed.
It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t easy, but half an hour later our baby girl finally slid out into the midwife’s hands.
She came into the world pissed off, which seemed only fair, given how she’d been conceived. We’d never know who fathered her, and I couldn’t have cared less. When the midwife lifted that bright red, angry, smelly little miracle up and she screamed at all of us, I knew she’d be a survivor, just like Sadie.
“Do you want to hold her?” the midwife asked Sadie. She nodded, and I saw Tinker flinch. Yes, we’d signed all the papers. Sadie hadn’t wavered in her determination to give up her baby through the entire pregnancy, but we’d gone into this knowing it could happen.
“Yes,” Sadie whispered, glancing at Tinker. “Just once. I want to hold her once. Then I’ll give her to her mother, okay?”
The midwife nodded, her face full of compassion as she pulled Sadie’s gown open, laying the infant on her chest. Sadie’s arms circled her, and she leaned down, nuzzled the small, damp head covered in a shock of black hair. Tinker stepped back, and I came to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Would you like us to clear the room?” the midwife asked, and we all held our breath.
Then Sadie shook her head.
“No,” she said, looking up at Tinker. “You know I’ll always love her. But she’s your baby, not mine. I’m not ready . . . No. Just take her now. Before I change my mind.”
Tinker moved forward, hesitantly lifting the child into her arms. Leaning over, I took in the tiny nose and small, angry eyes. What a little fireball. I reached down, touching her soft cheek. She smacked at me with one little hand, but when my finger touched her lips she opened them, sucking it in hard.
“She’s strong,” Tinker whispered.
“Yeah, she is.”
“I’d like you to leave now,” Sadie said, and I looked over to find her lying back on the bed, head turned away from us. “I don’t think I can watch.”
“Of course,” a nurse said, and she led Tinker out of