Page 89 of Tech

“Brother, please fucking tell me you’ve found the bitch and the baby?” Doc pleads.

I sniffle and rasp, “We’ve found them, now about to go in, but I fuck, what are the chances the baby has survived, Doc?”

He’s quiet for a moment before whispering, “I’ve seen cases where a mother has given birth at thirty weeks, and thrown her baby in the trash. When found, the baby survived, and that was at least five hours after being born. There’s a chance, brother, keep faith, and call me when you have that baby in your arms, alright?”

I nod, even though he can’t see me.

Snake says, "Give us ten minutes, brother,” then he hangs up, and I shake my arms out.

“Alright. Timmy slowly drive the van into the parking lot without getting her attention; I mean fucking crawl with it. Sniper, Colt, Breaker, let's fucking go.” He looks at me. “Ready to meet your son?”

I chuckle, half smiling. “Could be a girl, brother.”

He shakes his head and says, "Nah, we have had enough of them pranking us at the club, so we need another boy.”

The brothers chuckle, and I nod, before taking a deep breath. Everyone gets serious. Snake gives us the nod, and Breaker, as our Sergeant-at-Arms, takes the lead as Colt takes the rear. Snake, Sniper, and I take the middle, our pieces at the ready.

Stopping outside the door, we hear the bitch scream, “Stop crying, you stupid brat. I need to think!”

I take a slow breath.

If the baby is crying, then that means its alive, right?

Sniper grips my shoulder as Snake nods to Breaker, who swaps his gun for his taser, and holds it at the ready, before he lifts his foot up, counts down from three, and smashes his foot into the door.

It swings open, banging against the wall, the wood splitting, causing Nina to scream and jump back, her eyes wide.

As soon as she sees me, she screams, “No, I’m not ready for you yet!” and runs to the bed, but before she can reach it, Breaker tasers her.

Her body shakes as she falls to the floor, banging her head hard, over a thousand watts going through her body. She goes unconscious, pissing herself.

Breaker rushes over to her and ties her up, cursing about her piss, and I rush into the room, looking around before my eyes land on the dirty bed.

“Fuck me…” I rasp, rushing over to the crying baby. The cord is long, covering between the legs, the dark pink body wriggling, screaming.

Slowly I pick my baby up, causing the cord to move, and sob releases.

I have a boy.

Carefully I hold my son in my arms, cradling his head, the cord dangling. The baby stops crying, his eyes looking at me.

“Hi, baby boy, I’m your daddy,” I whisper, my tears falling.

He’s so fucking small.

“Here, brother,” someone says, and I turn to see Sniper holding a bottle, making me furrow my brows.

He smiles and whispers, his eyes on my son, “I made sure the prospects went to the store to pick up formula before they caught up with us. Thankfully, they’re ready-made in the bottle. All I had to do was screw a nipple on. A woman in the store helped them. It’s cold, but it’s something.”

I nod, not bothering to hide my tears, and take the bottle.

“I-I fuck, how do I do it, brother?” I ask him with fear. Fuck, my boy’s basically been thrown around by the bitch, so the fact he’s crying and moving is a miracle in itself.

Sniper squeezes my shoulder, rasping, “Just place the nipple near his lips, and he’ll do the rest. When you're halfway through the bottle, gently place him over your shoulder, and pat his back to burp him. You don’t want him getting colic. Once he burbs, give him the rest of the bottle.”

I nod and do as he says, my boy taking it instantly, sucking like he’s starving, and I ask, “What’s colic?”

Sniper chuckles. “It's trapped gas, and can be painful for babies.”