Chapter 227

Chapter 227

Alyssa

"Nina, can I get another drink over here?" Ashley shouts from across the table like we're at a rowdy dive bar instead of my impromptu baby shower.

I groan, bracing one hand on the table while the other rubs over the tight dome of my belly, trying—and failing—to ride out the contraction ripping through me like molten steel.

It's been like this for two goddamn weeks now.

Nonstop.

Prodromal labor. That's what Dr. Summers called it.

Basically, it means: Congrats, you're in constant, soul-splitting pain—but your cervix doesn't give a single shit about it.

Some days, the contractions hit every two minutes. Other times, they stretch to ten or fifteen. No rhythm. No logic. Just relentless pressure and enough false hope to make me want to scream.

And the worst part?

I'm not even dilated.

Not a single goddamn centimeter.

Thirty-seven weeks pregnant. With twins. And somehow, my body still thinks we've got time to kill.

Fuck. My. Life.

I shift in my seat, wincing as another wave tightens low in my abdomen. My hands fly to my belly in a half-assed attempt to soothe it.

At this point, it's pure reflex. It doesn't help. Nothing works.

I'm absolutely miserable.

My stomach is enormous.

My back aches almost constantly.

And my ankles? They're so swollen you could slap a logo on me and call me the fucking Pillsbury Dough Girl.

I'm done. Done waiting. Done waddling. Done feeling like a bloated, beached whale while these two babies continue squatting rent-free in my uterus.

I've tried everything.

The teas. The long-ass walks. The sex—so much sex—I had all three of my men tapping out. Still... nothing.

And yes, I've cried about it. A lot.

This morning's meltdown was actually the reason the guys caved and let me come to the clubhouse. They've been hovering like anxious wolves, trying to enforce bed rest, but how the hell am I supposed to sleep like this?

I'm sore.

Exhausted.

And at this point, I'm one "just hang in there" from committing an actual felony.

So, when Nina and my best friends caught wind of my slow descent into insanity and threw together this baby shower, I didn't complain.

It's not my first pregnancy, but it's their first time getting to be part of it. They missed Zuri's. And honestly? I don't love being the center of attention, but today?

It's a welcome distraction from the war zone happening inside me.

And with it just being the four of us—while the guys have church in the barn—I'm not exactly the main event.

Which is perfect. At least to me.

Nina walks over with a fizzy, fruity drink and sets it down in front of Ashley. Her eyes drift to me, soft with concern.

"You okay, honey?" she asks.

"Yeah," I lie.

The second the word leaves my mouth, another contraction slams into me—harder than the last.

It steals the air from my lungs and drives my nails into the edge of the table as my whole body tightens.

Holy. Fuck.

I groan, my eyes squeezed shut until the wave passes.

When I open them again, everyone's staring at me.

"Okay," I pant, blinking away the blur. "That one felt... different."

Definitely not the good kind.

Chelsea's eyes go wide. "Uh... should we be timing these again?"

"Yeah," Ashley says, already pulling out her phone. "Was that a real one?"

"I fucking doubt it," I mutter, rubbing at the tight, burning ache in my belly.

But Ashley's already hit start on her timer, her expression locked somewhere between hopeful and borderline panic.

"Guys, I'm fine," I try to reassure them. "I just need to walk it off."

Like that ever actually works.

Still, I push up from the chair, fully committed to doing a few lazy laps and pretending I'm not actively fighting for my life.

I make it three steps.

That's when it happens.

A sudden pop in my pelvis—followed by a warm, uncontrollable gush flooding down my legs.

I freeze.

My eyes bulge.

My mouth drops open.

And water pours out of my pussy like a busted fire hydrant.

"Oh my fucking god," I whisper, staring at the puddle forming beneath me like it personally betrayed me.

Well... I'll be throwing these leggings away today.

Ashley gasps. "Holy shit, Alyssa. Was that—"

I slowly lift my eyes, deadpan. "Yeah... safe to say it's go time."

There's a beat of stunned silence.

Then?

Chaos.

"Oh my gosh—the babies are coming!" Chelsea shrieks, already scrambling for her phone. "Should we call an ambulance or something?!"

I shake my head, wincing as another cramp coils low and deep. "No—just get my husbands, please."

Nina's already halfway down the hall. "On it!"

Then it hits.

A contraction so brutal, it feels like my spine is being crushed from the inside out.

I nearly double over—but Chelsea grabs my arm, steady and calm, guiding me toward our table. I brace against the edge, my knuckles bone-white, panting through the pain.

"Breathe, Alyssa," she says gently. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

"I'm fucking trying," I grit out through clenched teeth.

But it barely fades before another barrels through.

Then I feel it.

A shift.

Low. Heavy. Final.

Like my body's surrendering to something inevitable.

"Oh, shit," I hiss, my voice shaking. "I—I think they're coming. Like... right now."

"Right now?" Ashley repeats, nearly screaming. "Shit. What are we gonna do? Who knows how to deliver a baby?"

Panic hits the room like a grenade.

My stomach turns. Bile rises in my throat.

A fresh wave of pain crashes into me—like a wrecking ball to the gut.

Tears spring to my eyes. My vision blurs.

I can't even hear Chelsea shouting orders to Ashley over the roaring in my ears.

Just static. Heat. Pressure.

And the undeniable truth:

They're not waiting.

Not for the hospital.

Not for the car.

Not for my goddamn epidural.

"Where are they?" I demand, still clutching the table like it's the only thing keeping me tethered to Earth.

I'm not doing this alone.

I am not about to have their daughters without them here.

So they better get their asses in this room—now.

"We're right here, kitten."

King's voice explodes through the room like a thunderclap, and I nearly sob from the sound alone.

He's at my side in an instant, his hand landing between my shoulder blades, rubbing slow circles like he's trying to soothe the fire burning down my spine.

"Shit—what do you need?" he asks, his voice low and ragged, panic bleeding through the edges even as he tries to keep it together.

"We need to get her to the hospital. Right the fuck now," Niko says, cutting in from the other side of me, his chest heaving like he just sprinted a marathon.

"There's no time," I bite out, my breath hitching. "They're coming now."

"Fuck," Mason mutters—but his voice doesn't waver. Steady. Solid. Like always. "Looks like we're having the babies here. I'll get Dr. Summers on the phone."

Ashley bursts back into the room, her arms loaded with towels. "I've got the towels!"

Chelsea's already moving, snatching the bundle and tossing them out like a medic on a TV show. "Lay them out—now. We need to get her on the floor before the next contraction hits."

King doesn't hesitate. He quickly peels down my soaked leggings, then he and Niko ease me gently to the floor, lowering me into the bed of towels like I'm made of glass.

Then King slides in behind me, bracing my back against his chest. His arms wrap around me—solid, unshakable—locking me to the only center I've got right now.

"This is definitely nothing like my birth plan," I grumble breathlessly.

He lets out a short, rough laugh—more nerves than amusement. "Our girls are already like you. Stubborn as hell. And once they make a decision, they want it to happen then and now."

"Hey, I am not—" I start, but the words cut off as another contraction curls through my core.

I scream, the sound strangled and raw.

"Breathe, Alyssa!" Chelsea orders, crouching in front of me with fierce eyes and zero patience for my bullshit.

I nod frantically, dragging air into my lungs. I suck in a shaky inhale, then force it out between clenched teeth.

"Good girl," King murmurs behind me, his voice low and gritty in my ear. “You've got this. Got a whole team behind you, baby. Just breathe. Let your body take over."

That's easy for him to say.

He's not the one about to push two humans out of his body.

"Does no one have a fucking epidural lying around here or something?" I grind out. "Because I'm not gonna be able to handle this shit much longer."

Chelsea snorts. "Even if we were at the hospital, babe, there wouldn't be time now." She squeezes my hand firmly. "Come on. You've got this. You're a bad ass bitch, remember? Channel that energy and let's bring these beautiful babies into the world."

I blink at her, deadpan. "Yeah, that was super inspirational, Chels. But I'm still gonna need someone to locate the nearest bottle of drugs. Immediately."

She sighs like I'm the dramatic one here, then spins toward the rest of the room and shouts, "Someone, dim the lights and turn on Sleep Token. It's in her birth plan!"

Yeah, well... so was a hospital.

And a fucking bed.

But here we are.

I open my mouth to ask how the hell that's supposed to help, but Chelsea cuts me off like she's been waiting for this moment since freshman year.

"I know it's not the same, but remember in high school when you said you wish you could plug Vessel's voice directly into your bloodstream? We're gonna pretend we're doing that now."

My face heats up. God, did I actually say that?

Niko tosses me a smirk from across the room, phone in hand. "Well, that's a conversation we're definitely circling back to later."

"Euclid" starts pouring over the speakers, wrapping around the room like a soft, warm, angelic blanket.

And damn it... it helps.

Not much. But between the music and King's solid body bracing against mine, something in me unclenches just enough for me to breathe again.

And I feel... ready.

Or at least, as ready as I'm ever going to be.

Chelsea must see it on my face because she gives me a smile full of pride. "Ready?"

I nod once.

She shifts aside to give Mason room. He crouches between my legs, calm and focused, the Bluetooth in his ear crackling faintly.

He pulls on a pair of gloves, then reaches up to check my cervix—and the second he does, his eyes widen slightly.

"Yeah..." he mutters into the mic, his voice steady but edged with awe. "I'm pretty sure I just touched a head."

He glances up at me, then back between my thighs. "You'll never make it here in time, we'll bring them after. Just walk me through how to deliver my daughters safely."

As he listens, he nods slowly, his jaw tight with focus. "Okay. Got it."

"Nina, clean towel," he says, holding out a hand without looking away. She passes one over, and he uses it to cover his hands.

Then his intense, forest green eyes meet mine.

"Alright, little warrior," he says, sounding certain. "When the next contraction comes, you're gonna push. Ten seconds on, then we breathe. Got it?"

I nod, swallowing hard. "Okay," I whisper.

"Chelsea, Niko—grab her legs and help her hold them back."

They jump into action without hesitation. Chelsea takes one leg, Niko the other, their grips firm but gentle.

Ashley remains behind them, holding her phone up, the camera already rolling.

Thank God she remembered. In the shitstorm, I'd completely forgotten I asked her to document this for us.

I never got to see Zuri's birth. Isaac barely wanted to be in the room, let alone hold a fucking camera.

This time needed to be different.

And it already was.

Completely.

The next contraction hits like a bullet, and my body takes over before I even get the chance to think.

"I—I need to push!" I cry out, squeezing the ever-loving hell out of King's hands as he catches mine and grips back like a lifeline.

"Do it, little warrior," Mason encourages, holding the towel with his eyes still locked on mine. "Push now."

"You've got this, sweet girl," Niko adds from my side, his tone soft and reassuring as he continues supporting one of my legs.

I nod rapidly. Okay. Okay. I can do this."

I don't know how much I believe it, but it doesn't matter.

I have to do this.

It’s not like I can reschedule it for another day. Or that I’d even want to.

I really need them to get out of me.

The pressure deepens—low, primal, unstoppable.

And then I push.

Hard.

With everything I've got.

My whole body seizes, a guttural sound tearing from my throat as pain shreds through me—white-hot, blinding, the worst I've ever felt.

"Eight... nine... ten. And breathe," Mason counts, still not freaking the fuck out. Even a little bit.

I collapse back against King's chest, panting hard and shaking from the pain and adrenaline.

"You're doin' such a good fucking job, baby," King murmurs against my ear.

"Oh my god—There's a head!" Nina exclaims.

Then Niko speaks, and I swear it takes all the tension out of the room and hurls it straight out the window.

His face is pale as he stares between my legs like he just saw the gates of hell crack open. "I—I think I might be gay now."

I bark out a breathless laugh between gasps. "You better not be—you did this to me."

He grins, though there's still a flicker of trauma in his eyes he can't quite hide. "That's still to be determined. But for now... I think we can all agree this is King's fault."

I nod, wincing through the blaze in my vagina. "Yeah, you're right. I absolutely blame him."

King chuckles behind me, brushing the damp hair off my face. "Is that right? Good. I've got a lifetime to make it up to you, wife."

The way he says that—wife—always makes me shiver.

But before I can get too lost in it, another contraction builds like a tidal wave.

"Push, Alyssa!" Mason commands.

And I do.

The sound that comes out of me is somewhere between a battle cry and a wounded animal, but I don't give a fuck.

I just want this torture to finally be over.

My whole body feels like it's splitting open, heat and pressure spreading over me like a fire I can't put out.

Everyone's voice blurs together, but I hear them—cheering me on, grounding me.

And with that surge of support, I bear down and push even harder.

"She's out! She's out!" Niko shouts just as I collapse against King again.

My head drops back to his shoulder, gasping and panting like I can't pull air in fast enough.

Then I hear it.

A sharp wail slices through the room, piercing, perfect, alive.

My heart stops.

Then slams back to life.