Page 129 of Líadan's Code

Jordan and Brendan hug me tightly as the baby rocks and rolls in excitement in my stomach. It seems she’s just as excited.

“Let’s do it!” I squeal, hugging them back.

Three months later

The United States

“I swear I’ve been pregnant for twelve hundred years,” I mutter, rubbing my back as I walk through the house. I wanted to find a bigger home before I gave birth, but I can’t make a decision.

For starters, I didn’t know what city I wanted to live in when I’m finding that I truly love Evanston and being so close to the water. I didn’t think I’d enjoy running the club, but I do, and we’re considering opening more throughout the country.

It’s doing extremely well.

The enforcers for the families are working well to keep everyone in line, and I have to step in less and less. It’s a relief, honestly, not to have to step into my Banshee persona as often.

Pregnancy has mellowed me out a touch, yet I still fucked up someone who was stealing from the recreation center we set up. The screams were sweet as she realized how badly she fucked up.

Don’t steal from me or children, I don’t have many things that piss me off, but those are two that I won’t be able to get over.

There’s a cramp in my back and I moan, leaning against the wall as I sway, attempting to work through it. My hands hold on as I try to count how far apart these contractions are. Do I need to worry?

Brendan and Jordan went out to get some work done, while I decided to work from home, taking calls. I woke up with some back pain and let them know I should take it easy. The books and my doctor told me to go to the hospital when my contractions were four minutes apart, but I can’t concentrate enough to time them.

Shit, is that another one?

“Oh fuck,” I whimper, dropping my head on the wall. I have a very high tolerance for pain, but I should worry if even I think these fucking suck. God, why is this cute little baby pulling apart my innards?

“Alana, be nice to Mommy,” I grunt, breathing in and then out nice and slow. “I’m calling your daddies, baby girl.”

My phone is in the other room, because I left it there when I started to walk out my contractions. So far, they just seem to be getting more intense over the last forty minutes. That doesn’t seem like the false labor that I’ve also read about.

It’s time to call reinforcements.

Connecting the call by jabbing the screen to get to the person I need, I lean back, lifting my stomach as I take deep breaths.

“Hello?” a female asks, making me blink.

“Shit, did I call the wrong number?” I ask. Unfortunately, another contraction hits, making me yell as I pant and gasp my way through it. “Fuck me that hurts.”

“Líadan?” Blinking, I look down at the phone, realizing exactly who I called. For some reason, I got it into my head that I wanted Layla’s phone number for emergencies, or the day I got together enough courage to call her and explain things.

“Layla? Shit, I’m sorry,” I pant. “I’m pretty sure I’m in labor and?—”

A rush of liquid interrupts me, shocking me as I glance down.

“Fuck, this cannot be happening right now,” I whisper.

“Líadan?” Layla asks. “Hey, take a breath. What’s going on?”

“I’m definitely in labor,” I say. “My water just broke. Ah… I’m kind of home alone, and I was calling Jordan to tell him this isn’t a false alarm.”

“Wow, you’re pregnant,” she says softly, and I can’t tell what her tone is.

“If it helps, I never thought I could get pregnant… Ever,” I state. “I know this doesn’t make any sense, and you could even be mad at me because I basically plucked Jordan out of his life and then didn’t give him back.”

“You… My uncle is an adult,” Layla finally says. “He’d never stay somewhere he doesn’t want to be.”

“I know,” I say. “I tried to give him an out and broke up with him. He stalked me and refused to allow it.”

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