Avenging Us - Gina Whitney Page 0,32

door swung open with a bang, causing me to jump…which sent pressure down my spine and into my lower back. My eyes closed and I growled, “Christ, you scared the fuck out of me. What’s wrong with you?”

Abel’s hands went up in a defensive posture as he approached. “You need to relax.” He helped me to a sitting position and put a few pillows behind my back. “Did you call the doctor?”

“No, I called you. Maybe it will pass?” I asked, taking tiny breaths. So far, the breathing technique I’d learned was doing shit and even caused me to hyperventilate.

Chance came flying in the room, panicked. “Where’s the hospital bag?”

“Got it,” Abel replied, walking out of the nursery with it on his shoulder as he spoke rapidly to someone. Beyond the pain and increasing grouchiness, seeing him with a diaper bag made me cry.

He hung up on whoever was on the phone and crossed the room. “Is it the pain?” he asked, taking a seat beside me.

I shook my head. It wasn’t about the pain now, but about the father of my baby. Well, that and I was scared to death. My emotions were nearly suffocating me. “You’re going to be a father,” I said, blinking away the tears.

Chance stood in the background, wiping his own. He knew how I’ve been struggling.

“And you’re going to be a fantastic mother,” he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead, and then called the doctor’s service.

Chance asked if I needed anything, but I didn’t want to move until I spoke to the doctor.

She called back a few minutes later and Abel relayed the questions as she had asked. “Did your water break and something about a mucus plug.” He winced and so did Chance.

The bed wasn’t wet beneath me and I honestly didn’t want to know anything about a mucus plug. “No to the water, and no clue to the other.”

He nodded. “How far apart are the contractions?”

I shrugged, as I hadn’t thought to time them. After a few more questions and vague answers from me, her advice was to walk, and that recommendation made me snarl. “Walk? Are you kidding me right now?”

Chance went to my closet and returned with a pair of slippers. “Here.” He handed them to Abel, who placed them on the floor.

“I think we should follow her advice. She wouldn’t suggest something that would cause you or the baby any harm,” he said as he pulled back the sheet to swing my legs over the bed.

“I know,” I answered, and he placed the slippers on my feet. “I can’t even see my damn feet.”

“Honey you haven’t seen your feet in over month. Let’s not harp on nonsense…let’s have this baby.” Chance grabbed my hair brush off the vanity. “Not only am I going to be an uncle, I’m also your one-man glam squad.”

The pressure between my legs grew unbearable, and I wanted to scream. “Come near me with that brush and I’ll kill you with my bare hands. I swear to god, Chance,” I yelled and his face paled. Abel smirked as another contraction wracked my body. “Fuck, that was definitely something. This can’t be false-labor.” I bent over, holding my stomach.

Abel threw his phone to Chance. “Make yourself useful and start timing the contractions. I’ll help her walk.”

Chance nodded and paced. We started to walk around our bedroom slowly. The jingle of keys and footsteps brought me back to the moment. I turned to the door to see who it was—Cindy and Woody.

They looked chummy standing shoulder to shoulder. “We’re going for breakfast…wanna join?”

I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by being in my nightgown or curious that they were together. We all knew it was a matter of time.

“We?” Chance asked as he timed my contractions.

“Shut it, Chance.” She snarled and then turned her attention to me. “The baby?” she asked, walking past Woody.

“I’m cramping,” I answered, forcing a weak smile. I grabbed both of Abel’s forearms and leaned into his chest, trying to fight the pain.

“The doctor thinks she’s going into labor,” Abel said over his shoulder as I dug my nails into his arms. He never complained…just took the pain. I knew he would take the agony for me if he could. He stuffed down his own feelings of confusion, pain, and anxiety to comfort me. He had to be as scared as I was, but he’d never show it. His eyes were fully focused on mine. “I’d feel better if we went to the