Page 129 of Tulips and Lost Time

Older. Protective. Authoritative.

“My…” My brain isn’t connecting. The neural pathways, broken. “Something.”

“What?” He grabs another towel and places it on the road beneath Kari’s backside. “What do you need?”

“First aid kit?” Why the fuck do I say it like a question? “I think…”

“Luc!” Katrina pushes into our space and grabs my face. “She’s bleeding, Luc. Like, a lot.”

“Placental abruption?” Questions. So many fucking questions. “I think… maybe…”

“Which means you have to get them out.” She tears Kari’s underwear down and cries out at the blood already pooling on the ground. “Oh god, Luc. You have to get them out.”

“I can’t get them out! Dom is upside down.”

“You have to try!” She grabs my hands and holds them firm. “Maybe it’s not abruption. Maybe it’s just ruptured membranes.”

“They’re scheduled for theater.”

“They’re here right now!” she snarls. Shoving me around, she forces me to see them. My family. My whole fucking world. “Stop thinking this is Kari,” she orders. “It’s just work. Motor vehicle accident. Thirty-four-week pregnant female carrying twins. What do you do, Luc?”

“I get her to the hospital.” My hands shake. My entire soul quivers. “I minimize the bleeding and I get her into the bus.”

“No,” she commands. “Look! Push that blood aside, Luca, and you see a head. They’re ready to come out.”

“I need to stabilize the mother!”

“You need to stabilize all three of them. One is already in the birth canal, so what do you do?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Okay.” I look to my left when Alex tosses a first aid kit at my leg, but then I glance at Kari. Because that isn’t gonna help shit all. “Dammit! Okay. If it’s abruption, we have five minutes to get them wired up.”

“Ambulance is on the way.” Alex goes to Kari’s head and drags the hair out of her face. “Two minutes out. So you’ve gotta handle it till then.”

“Are you awake, Bear?” I slide my fingers around the baby’s head, testing for the elasticity of Kari’s skin and knowing she’s about to be torn the fuck up. “Bear? Can you hear me?”

“I’m ‘ere,” she drones, sluggish and sleepy. “Hurts.”

“I know, babe. I know it hurts.” Tears ball in my eyes and drop from my cheeks. This whole fucking scene is dirty. Glass litters the road and dirt is already on her legs. On her thighs. “I’m gonna need your help to get the first one out, okay?”

“Tired.”

“I know, honey.” I shrug and swipe my cheek on my shoulder. “The accident has pushed you into pre-term labor, and I’m really worried you’re bleeding inside. I need you to help me get this one out. Then the bus is on the way to finish up.”

“Wonder if I’ll die,” she drawls. Curious. And completely… content. “Least I didn’t get shot in the belly, huh?”

“You’re not fucking dying.” I snatch up the first aid kid and tear the zippers open. This isn’t a hospital. There are no proper tools here. But I grab the scissors from the pack and bring them between her legs, shaking and sick with what I have to do. “This isn’t strictly by the book, Bear. And it’s gonna hurt. But I have to cut you.”

“S’okay.” She drops her head to the side. Sleeping. Yet, awake. Here, but not. “S’fine. My stomach hurts.”

“Don’t let her sleep,” I order Alex. Then to Katrina, “I need water. Like, bottled, spring water or something. We’ll need more towels. And probably find me some gloves or some shit.”

“I’ve got it.” She bounds to her feet and sprints away.

So I bring my focus back to Kari’s laboring stomach. She’s not here, but her body is doing the work anyway. Labor has begun, whether we’re ready for it or not. “Don’t go to sleep, Bear.”

“Hey?” Alex taps her cheek. “Wake up, sweet girl. You need to stay awake.”

“Can you push for me, Bear?” I snip her skin, heaving when the tiny cut turns to a third-degree tear when the baby’s head presses against it. “Fuck,” I groan, sick to my stomach at the thought of hurting her. “I’m so sorry, Kari. I’m so fucking sorry.”

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