AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * * *
“I can’t do this!” Shannon screamed, her red hair plastered to her forehead. She was curled to the side and holding her stomach, her thighs clenched shut. “I can’t do this without him!”
“Shh,” I soothed, brushing the perspiration from her face. I pulled gently on her shoulder in an effort to get her to lay flat, but she wouldn’t budge. Her muscles were as stiff as corded ropes. She was fighting with all her might to keep that baby in.
The nurse exchanged a look with me, a warning in her eyes. This baby was coming, and Shannon needed to get ready.
“Give us a minute,” I said to the nurse.
She retreated, leaving the door open a crack. The doctor would be here any second. Shannon was fully dilated, her water had broken and it was now or never.
“Look at me, Shan,” I commanded, willing the power into my voice.
She kept her face hidden against the pillows, a grimace marring her shriveled features.
“Shannon O’Connell, you look at me right now!”
The volume of my words shocked her into submission. Her eyes met mine, horror shimmering in those grassy depths. A gut-wrenching, free-falling face of terror, like she’d been pushed from an airplane without a parachute.
I took her hand, and she crushed mine with her own. I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a wince, then chose my words with care.
“I can’t even begin to imagine the level of agony you’re in right now,” I started, praying I was going in the right direction. This was a pep talk of epic proportions. “Not just because of labor. I know you feel dead inside with Connor gone, but you aren’t, Shan.”
The lines of Shannon’s face smoothed as I spoke, tears traveling the expanse of her pale cheeks. Her lower lip trembled, but her gaze stayed locked on mine.
“You aren’t dead, Shannon, because there’s a little life inside of you that wants to come out. There’s a living, breathing piece of Connor right in your belly that can’t wait to meet you. Charlie needs you to be strong. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for him. Do you hear me?”
“Are we ready?” the doctor sang as she waltzed through the door, stethoscope swinging from her neck. She was short and thin, and I couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she was going to pull this baby out. But the fact that she was a woman was consoling. We needed fierce feminine energy right now.
I glanced toward Shannon, surprised to see that she was sitting upright in bed—knees bent, legs spread, hands fisting the starchy sheets. Her eyes were narrowed with determination and her face was pink. She glanced at the doctor, gritting her teeth.
“Yes,” she snarled.
Chapter Ten
Jack
Mick’s words floated to me from another universe. They were diluted, echoing aimlessly around my skull like I was being held underwater.
“I’m catching the next flight.” Kieran slammed his pint down, rising from the table. The pub was riotous, but he spoke with definition. “Jack?”
Raising my head, I met my brother’s gaze. It wasn’t even eight o’clock at night and I was shit-faced. I had been all day. My movements felt slow and fuzzy, but my brain was whirring from Mick’s information.
Shannon had given birth. The baby was healthy. A month early but a solid eight pounds, six ounces. Mick had just gotten off the phone with Emma. I wanted with all my being to throttle Mick, to demand details about the call, to ask if Emma was okay.
But I held back. I was so inebriated, even Mick could take me down if he tried. More importantly, I had to keep distance between myself and Emma. Work needed to be done. I couldn’t go home yet, and just the thought of having my girl in my arms made me want to get on the fucking jet.
I shook my head at Kieran. “You go.”
“You’re not coming?”
I locked eyes with my brother, my expression hard and resolute. “No.”
That ended his line of questioning. Kieran raised his brows, shrugging as he walked away—which I took as his goodbye. He would be on the next flight out of Dublin. He was going home. Envy burned its way through my veins. Or maybe that was the whiskey.
I took another swig, seething. Kieran could do as he pleased. I, on the other hand, had to think of safety first and foremost. And vengeance—vengeance was a close second.
With that in mind, I rose, climbing on top of the bar stool, then onto the table. Mick’s eyes widened as he watched, stepping back from the circular table and into the crowd behind him. Fellow patrons turned to observe, their faces expectant. The pub was packed wall to wall, shoulder to shoulder. The young woman who’d brought our drinks smiled at me coquettishly, raising her glass with a wink. I paid her no mind, focusing on the villagers of Banshire.
