“Dad said Heaven’s Keeper would take care of her. He said all Keepers have the ability to help their Seeker get over her mate. I didn’t believe it at first, but then he mentioned how Spencer helped my mom. You can see how much he loves her. She’s happy with him. He helped her move on without her soulmate.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Layne did his best to calm his nerves. But Dylan’s words raced through his mind. Then another memory came to surface—a memory of his conversation with Nate the day of the engagement party.
He wanted to kill Dylan’s father that day, for upsetting Heaven, for choking her with his powers. If he’d known at the time, Nate wouldn’t be breathing.
After his failed attempt to kill her, Nate proposed an alternative idea, one Layne would never forget. He couldn’t forget because he wanted what Nate was offering—a chance to be with Heaven.
Nate’s voice still lingered in his head, the way he taunted Layne about being in love with his best friend’s girl. He swore if Layne could get Heaven to fall for him, he’d spare her life.
He had half a mind to tell Dylan about the conversation, but at this point, Dylan would use it to prove his case. He’d claim it was a sign that he needed to leave Heaven to keep her safe.
Before he could comment on his friend’s idiocy, he noticed movement in the hall that led to Dylan and Heaven’s room. When he turned in the same direction, he spotted Heaven. As she crept in their direction, something in his gut began to coil. He hoped she hadn’t overheard them talking.
Dylan must have noticed him staring. He turned toward the hall and stood when Heaven leaned against the corner wall. Her eyes seemed unfocused, as if she were in a daze. The natural pink in her cheeks had faded to a dull, ashen shade.
Layne jumped to his feet. He rushed in her direction at the same time as Dylan. Both stopped a foot from where she stood.
“Are you okay?”
They asked the question at the same time, but neither acknowledged the other. Heaven remained their only concern. Her lips began to tremble as she shook her head and placed both hands on her stomach.
Um…” she choked out the word, fighting back tears. “I don’t think a shower’s going to help me anymore. My water just broke.”
CHAPTER 6
The mattress gave as Heaven pressed her hands into it and pushed herself up. She searched the bedroom for Dylan, even Layne, but neither were anywhere in sight. The cabin was silent of every sound but the storm moving through.
Rain beat against the roof as if a hundred tap dancers were atop it, clicking their metal toes and heels in a repetitive pattern. As loud as the drops were, they did little to distract her from her hardening abdomen. Neither did the roll of thunder, the way it spread through the valley, echoing off the hills surrounding them. She thought the rain would have ended by now, but the storm continued wreaking havoc.
Declining weather conditions were the least of her concerns. Pain throbbed in every fiber of her being. It hurt to breathe, to move, to sit atop the mattress. She gritted her teeth to prevent herself from screaming. Doing so didn’t take away the pain tearing her apart. She had to suffer through this. There was no other way around it without the use of anesthesia.
Falling back against the bed, her head hit the pillow. She glanced toward the ceiling, but lightning flashed outside the window. It drew her attention to the slate-tinted sky in the horizon. The cotton sheet crumpled inside her hands as she fisted it. There was little to relieve the heat burning her skin—heat caused by clenching muscles.
The contractions were getting worse. They had been for the last three hours, but the ones coming now were paralyzing. The brief periods between each one decreased by the minute. She tried focusing on the other sounds in the room, yet the rapid beat of her heart prevented it. Each thump built upon the one before it, quickening its rhythm until it echoed in her ears.
Her body had never ached this much. Not even with the flu. No part of her went unaffected by the pain coursing through her depths. It swirled about her, tugging her soul in multiple directions. So did the pressure forming between her legs.
The urge to sit up and bear down as hard as she could overcame her. She tried to do just that, but a hand warmed her arm before she could lift herself from the mattress. Dylan stood beside the bed. Seeing him provided her with a small amount of comfort.
“I’m here, Heaven.” He hovered above her as he leaned his arm against the bed. He brushed her cheek, his gentle touch soothing to her skin. “Hold on just a few more seconds. This one should be passing soon.”
Another breath filled her lungs when her lips parted. No matter how hard she tried to respond, nothing but a cry left her mouth. It made him cringe. His watery gaze wavered with worry as he stared at her.
“Layne went to gather the rest of the stuff we need. As soon as he brings it, I’m calling Layla back. I’ll be here with you every step of the way. Okay?”
“How much longer, Dylan?” she growled through gritted teeth. “It hurts so bad.”
“Shhh,” he whispered. The heat of his lips warmed her forehead. Then the mattress gave again. He sat by her side, taking her hand between his. “I’m sorry, Heaven. I’m so incredibly sorry this is happening. I can’t imagine how much it…”
He choked on the emotion building in his throat. Those same emotions spun in him, unyielding, like the pain in her body. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him it would be okay, that she and their daughter would be okay. But there was no way to guarantee that either would make it through this.
“It’s too soon,” she said, unable to keep a tear from sliding down her cheek. How could she be in labor? Their daughter wasn’t due for another three and half weeks.
“Hey,” he cooed, teasing her cheek with his fingers again. “Layla said a doctor wouldn’t stop your labor if you made it to thirty-seven weeks. You’re just a few days from that. She’s going to be okay.” He lifted her shirt past her belly and cupped his hand over it. His fingers stroked the skin beneath. “You both will be okay.”
She didn’t know if he was trying to convince her or himself, but she admired the faith he had in her ability to make it through the labor. She wished she felt as confident as he sounded. Then again, she knew he would do anything—say anything—to keep her from giving up.
Blinking away her tears, she concentrated on her breath, taking in another, releasing one soon after. The hardness in her belly didn’t increase, but it didn’t ease either. It would soon. That thought alone brought her a smidgen of relief, as did the wave of heat that suddenly surrounded her.
“These are all the ones I could find.”
Layne’s voice penetrated through the pain flooding her body. She found him near the foot of the bed, laying a stack of towels on the mattress. His eyes trailed up her body, stopping when they met hers. They mirrored Dylan’s, the way they locked onto her, all the concern in his soul pouring through them.
His energy pulsed around her, the need to be near her so consuming. He battled the urge to come closer and take her hand in his. The fear of what was happening proved too much for him to handle. He moved backward, shifting his attention toward Dylan as he did.
“I should probably go back in—”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Dylan shot an icy glare in his direction. “Your mom said you have to help.”
“How the hell am I supposed to help?” Layne jabbed his finger in his chest. “This is something you two should be sharing, alone.”
“We would be, if we were at a hospital, but we’re not. Your mom stressed the fact that you had to help. So park your ass beside my wife. If I tell you to talk to her, do it, because it means you don’t need to be looking anywhere else in the room. Got it?”
“Yeah.” Layne peered at her. “Whatever she needs.”
Dylan stood. He gripped the phone in his hand, squeezing past Layne before he made his way to the foot of the bed. The keypad on the cordless phone beeped each time he pressed his thumb into it. He put it t
o his ear, waiting for someone to answer on the other end. When they did, he turned his back to the bed.
The mattress jostled again as a wall of heat met her side. Unlike the heat fueling the ache in her body, this heat soothed her. Layne tucked his hand inside of hers and swiped her fingers with his thumb. The longer he sat beside her, the stronger his energy vibrated.
“Heaven,” he whispered, moving his other hand to her forehead. He brushed the skin below her hairline then he swept a few strands from her face. “I want to help you, but I don’t know if I can this time.”
Incapable of forming any words, she flexed her fingers around his hand, squeezing it. There was nothing he could do for her, but having him there made her feel safe. He always made her feel safe.
The hardness in her stomach began to recede, though it never fully went away. It did ease enough for her to unclench her teeth. A coppery taste teased her tongue from where she’d bit the side of her cheek. She winced at the taste, wishing she hadn’t when Layne leaned in further.
“What’s wrong? Are you having another contraction?”
Dylan’s voiced faded once Layne asked the question. She met her husband’s curious face when he turned. He held the receiver to his ear, but he moved the mouthpiece away from his lips. “Is it a contraction? I need to time it if—”
“No. It’s not a contraction. I bit my cheek.”
His lips thinned as he nodded once and went back to his phone conversation. He busied himself about the room, repeating the phrase, ‘got it’ every few seconds.
He tried to put on a good front for her, but she sensed his fear, the way it wound his energy like a spring ready to snap. The baby had unblocked them today, providing her with an opportunity to tap into his emotions. There were plenty gyrating within him, and she felt every single one.
Delivering the baby at the cabin was dangerous, but they had no other option. They couldn’t get to the hospital. The roads had flooded. The news reported damage all over the county. Emergency crews were rescuing people from flooding homes and rock slides.
At least her parents kept the cabin up-to-date with modern amenities, probably more so than their house in Brightsville. It appeared as though Dylan had found all the items Layla told him they needed. Thank God she had delivered a few babies in her lifetime.
Another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. It flickered longer than the one before it, providing enough light to brighten the room. Thunder rumbled above them. The windows vibrated in their frames, each one shaking so hard, she worried they would break and send glass flying.
The heat of Layne’s energy encircled her, drawing her attention back to him. He remained at her side. A hint of a smile passed over her lips when she gripped his hands. “Squeeze them as tight as you want. You won’t hurt me. I promise.”
She wanted to thank him, but the muscles in her abdomen began to twitch. The twitching turned to tightening, signaling another contraction was underway. The hardness creeping across her belly constricted her chest.
“It’s happening again.” She barely spoke the words when an icy sensation hit her abdomen. The current contraction was twice as hard as the last. Her back arched as if her soul wanted to escape the body causing it torment. The harder she squeezed Layne’s hands, the more hers began to shake.
“Are you timing this?” Layne asked, turning his head in Dylan’s direction.
Her husband confirmed with a quick nod while balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He pulled towels from the stack Layne placed at the foot of the bed, draping them along the edge. A few more were placed on the floor. Every so often he’d say yes or no to whatever Layla was asking him.
Once Layne seemed satisfied with his answer, he turned around and leaned in closer. “This will be over soon. Your daughter will be here. She’ll be in your arms and the pain will be long forgotten. Just hold on, Heaven.” He squeezed her hands this time, drawing them to his lips. “Hold on to me.”
Her hands twitched. She hoped he knew it was her way of saying okay, because she couldn’t speak. The pain consumed her, thickening the hardness in her belly until it felt like an enormous rock lay inside. Tears slid down her cheeks. They left a warm, wet path to cool her skin.
The lights above them began to flicker, or maybe it was her eyes playing tricks. She struggled to keep them open, to focus on anything in the room. It spun again, making it difficult to swallow the bitter taste creeping up her throat.
If something didn’t give soon, she wouldn’t survive this. The pain. It was as if someone were ripping the baby from her body. The cramping amplified, forcing her to cry out.
Her heartbeat increased in pace, drowning out the sounds in the room, including the words Layne was saying. She couldn’t hear Dylan either, but his hands were sweeping up her legs. He laid something across her hips, and then tugged at the top of her pants. The cotton covering her legs and her bottom peeled away. Cool air whipped around her skin once they were gone.
A fluffy material spread over her, stopping just above her knees. She welcomed the warmth it brought. The chills that had formed made the ache in her body more severe.
Dylan’s voice broke through the fog of confusion when he said her name. He hovered above her. “I have to move you toward the end of the bed so I can see how close you are to delivering. Can you wrap your arms around my neck?”
She nodded, releasing Layne’s hands. Dylan’s arm cradled her back and knees as he waited for her to hold onto him. Once she wrapped her arms around his neck, he lifted her from the bed. The ache in her body throbbed harder each second he had her suspended in air.
Luckily, it wasn’t long before the mattress welcomed her once again. Dylan left one arm under her knees while he moved to the end of the bed. Terrycloth teased her skin from the towels lying atop the comforter. She gave them little thought when he placed her feet on the mattress, keeping her legs bent. The blanket he laid across her waist swept down toward her knees once more. Then his voice rang through the air.
“Talk to my wife, Layne.”
Warm, brown eyes came into view. They held the same concern she sensed in him, the way they roamed her face, hesitating every time they met back with hers. He slid his hand under her neck, cradling it as he lifted her head and tucked a pillow underneath.
His thumb brushed down her cheek. “How are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” Her muscles relaxed enough to draw in a few deep breaths. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You don’t have a choice.” He cupped his hand around her jaw. “I wish I could give you one. I wish I could take away the pain. I hate that I—”
His voice cracked as fear overwhelmed him. She knew he wanted to help, but didn’t he realize he already had? It was enough that he was sitting by her side, holding her hand as she fought through the pain.
She’d never expected this much from him. He’d already given up his life for her. It wasn’t fair to put him in such an awkward situation. Yet something said it didn’t matter that Dylan demanded he stay. Layne couldn’t have stayed away if he tried. Not with the way his soul was tugging hers.
She concentrated on their connection, feeling the heat swirling between them. It was in this heat that she found the comfort to relieve her humiliation over what was happening at the end of the bed. She tried ignoring the pressure forming below, tried ignoring the way Dylan’s fingers moved over her, then inside, working around as he widened them. He said something into the phone, but she blocked out his voice. Or at least, she tried until he repeated her name, three times.
Gazing at the foot of the bed, she sensed his anticipation. “Hev?” When she nodded, he caressed the side of her leg. “It’s time. Layla said to start pushing on your next contraction.”
“Okay.” The news was a welcomed relief, one that soon faded as her abdomen began hardening. She sucked in a deep breath. The pain filling her body contorted her face. “I’m having one now.”
“Push, Heaven.”
&
nbsp; She did as her husband instructed, using every ounce of her strength to pull herself into a sitting position. Layne’s hand met her back, supporting her. When the contraction worsened, she pushed as hard as she could, counting off numbers in her head. Upon reaching five, she blew out a breath.
Her belly remained hard, making it difficult to breathe. Each breath came in short spurts, the exact opposite of what she needed to be doing based on the books she’d read. No matter how much she tried to take longer breaths, the pain was too constricting.
“Push again, Heaven.”
Dylan gripped both of her knees. The heat of his touch made her shudder. She took another breath and used every muscle to bear down.
When the contraction peaked, it decreased in intensity. The muscles within loosened from the ball they’d formed. She collapsed against the pillow once they did, feeling the warmth of Layne’s hand covering hers again.
After three hours of painful contractions, she didn’t know how much strength she had left. What if something was wrong? The baby could be breach or lying sideways, coming shoulder first. If something went wrong, they wouldn’t know. Not until it was too late.
An array of images played through her mind, making her heart ache with each one. From the moment she learned the baby existed, her heart grew twice its size. It had to because the amount of love it contained had increased. She couldn’t lose this baby. Not after carrying her for months, feeling her kicks, stretches, and even her hiccups.
As a stream of tears fell down her face, another wave of hardness spread in her stomach. She sat up, using Layne’s hands to help her. He kept them locked with hers, not saying a word when she squeezed them harder.
Her muscles bunched together. Pain burned from the pressure forming in her bottom. She blew out a breath, but the intensity of the contraction caused her to choke. A round of coughing ensued before she cried out.
Those same cries caused Dylan’s energy to swirl around her. He called her name, but she couldn’t answer. It felt as though something inside her had split open. The thought of trying to push this soon had her trembling. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t force her body to go through this type of abuse. What strength she had held her in an upright position, and it was beginning to fade.