kidney. Kick to the back of the leg.
I wanted this fucking fight over with so I could be with Bryn.
It was two years after I’d taken her to my home and made her irrevocably mine. And after that night, I refused to let her go.
She’d moved in with me a week later. I didn’t care if anyone thought it was too fast. Fuck them all. It was right for me, it was right for Bryn, and that’s all that fucking mattered.
I married her a year later, and although I didn’t need a piece of fucking paper or a ring on her finger to claim her as mine, I wanted it full circle.
And she’d slept in my bed every night after that. And here we were, and nothing had ever been more perfect in my damn life.
She still insisted on coming to every fight, even now that she was pregnant with our baby. Hell, she was due in a week but refused to stay home even though I grumbled and cursed. So I set her up in the front row, had a couple of my fighting buddies stand around her, caging her in to keep her safe so no other asshole touched her. But my buddies were to keep an arm’s length away, not to get too close to my fucking woman, because regardless if they were my friends, I would kick their ass if they laid a finger on her.
I never claimed to be a sane man, especially not when it concerned my wife. I’d been obsessed with her before I made her mine, and now that she was pregnant with my baby? I was a feral fucking animal ready to tear the throats out of anyone who even looked at her the wrong way.
I was crazy for Bryn. I was fucking unbearable when I was jealous, knowing I might be too much at times, that my need to keep her close and protected, to make it known to her and every single person on this damn planet that she was only mine, bordered on fucking lunacy. But I didn't fucking care. I loved that girl more than anything else in the world, and every day, my feelings for her grew.
I kept fighting, and when I took down the next fighter, I glanced at where Bryn was seated. She held onto her belly, and a look of pain sparked across her face.
I was out of the ring a second later, pushing any motherfucker in my way to the side. No one would keep me from getting to my wife.
“Bryn? Is it the baby?” I asked with all the worry thick on my face.
She glanced up at me, and even though I could see she was in pain, she wore a wide smile. “It’s the baby.”
I didn’t have time to be happy, not until I got her to the hospital. I had my arm around her waist and shouted at my friends to make a fucking path for us. Any stragglers and I growled at them and tossed them aside like the rag dolls they were.
“You ready for this?” she asked me once we were outside.
I hadn’t taken my arm off her waist for a second and tightened my fingers on her, pulling her impossibly closer. I wanted to pick her up, the caveman instinct to take care of her strong, but between her contractions, I didn't want to cause her any more discomfort.
Once we were in the SUV—a fucking tank of a vehicle I’d purchased right after Bryn moved in with me, because when I took her places, I wanted her as safe as possible—I headed to the hospital. I tried not to speed, but fuck I was on edge, constantly glancing at her to make sure she was okay. It tore at my damn heart when she had a contraction, the worry a tangible pain right in the center of my chest. But I didn't miss the way she smiled when it passed, how she rubbed her belly, or the pure happiness and excitement that poured from her.
Once at the hospital, checked in, and now in a room, I paced the floor on the other side of her better, watching as the nurses came and went, hooked her up to machines, and then an IV. Thank fuck they were all female, because I don’t know if I could have handled a male touching my very pregnant wife. That would have set me over the primal fucking edge.
The sound of