Page 130 of Líadan's Code

Layla snorts, chuckling. “Uncle Jordan does whatever he wants. I bet he stalked you with the same kind of effort he throws at everything else,” she says. “Shit, you need to call him!”

“Fuck,” I groan, eyes watering as another contraction hits me. God, these hurt so much.

“I’m sure they do hurt,” she says, and I realize I said that out loud. “Stay with me and three-way-call him. I don’t want you by yourself, Líadan. Come on, do it.”

She’s so bossy.

Again, Layla laughs, and I realize I’m definitely not doing stealthy well. Hitting the button to add someone to the call, I touch the correct contact.

“Princess, are you okay?” Jordan asks, answering, and I sob as another pain hits me.

I can’t even speak as I give myself over to the pain, and I vaguely hear Layla explaining what is happening.

“Líadan!” Jordan yells, making me gasp. I can’t talk to him, so I grunt as I concentrate on getting through my contractions. They’re too fucking close.

“Baby, it’s okay. I’m already on my way home and I have Brendan with me, alright? I’m going to call the doctor and see what she wants us to do,” he says.

I’m pulling off clothing as he speaks, because they feel uncomfortable. I hate that they’re wet, and I feel really warm, despite the fact that it’s January in Illinois and there’s snow on the ground.

“Push,” I gasp, realizing I feel this intense need to push. “Too soon.”

“No, no, you’re okay,” Jordan says. “Do what your body tells you to do. I’m two blocks away, love. Keep breathing, you’re doing so good.”

“Shit show,” I growl between my teeth, eyes closing from the pain. I guess it’s a testament to how high my pain tolerance is that I can get out any words.

“Isn’t that what new life is like sometimes?” Jordan asks. I can hear Brendan muttering under his breath, and I wonder if he’s praying because Jordan is a madman when he’s worried.

“It’s definitely wild and messy,” Layla cuts in. “You’re seriously a rockstar, Líadan. I think when I have kids I’m going to need lots of drugs. Good ones.”

My huff of amusement is short lived when I feel this intense need to push. It kind of feels like I have to poop, but not? My body is conflicted. Groaning deeply, I push, the sound turning more and more pained.

“Uncle Jordan!” Layla yells,

“I know, Lay, I know. One block away, baby. It sounds like you’re pushing. That’s really good. Push until you can’t, then take a break and breathe. No one is rushing you.”

“Lía,” Brendan says, stealing the phone from Jordan. “Take a breath with me.”

Forcing myself to inhale, I follow his breaths until I whimper, feeling the need to push again. Reaching between my legs, I feel a head, and my heart starts to pound. Okay, I can do this. I have to.

“Fuck, this burns,” I wail, dropping my head as I hold onto the table in front of me. Thankfully, it’s a taller table, perfect for me to hold onto as I push.

“Our baby wants to come see us,” Brendan says. “Sounds like she’s in a hurry. Alana is going to keep us on our toes, milseán.”

The sound of the front door opening behind me alerts me to Brendan and Jordan coming in, and then there are arms supporting me from behind. In the next moment, there are pads by my feet to catch anything that may drop, and Jordan’s lips are at my ear.

“We’re prepared for anything, Princess,” he murmurs. “Brendan picked up extra supplies last week because he had a dream that this might happen. Now, let’s have a baby.”

Sobbing in relief, the next few minutes are a blur of pain, pushing and adrenaline. The further I get into the moment, the less I’m focused on the pain.

“Here she comes,” Brendan says, and Jordan crouches with him to catch Alana as she drops into their arms. “Reach underneath you, Lía. Meet our baby.”

Doing as he says, I’m in awe as I lift a little girl with dark hair and pale-blue eyes. She gazes at me curiously, squalling once to show me she’s alright. Brendan wraps a towel around her and a blanket around my body, and Jordan and he tell me how amazing I was.

“Wow,” Layla says, and I realize she’s still on the phone. There are tears in her voice. “Congratulations you guys. She sounds precious.”

“Thank you for answering the phone,” I gasp, struggling to catch my breath.

“I don’t think I’d ever not answer,” she says honestly. “I didn’t know whose number this was, and I still picked it up. Don't be a stranger, yeah?”

---