Page 72 of Matched into the Mob

“I need to push.”

“Yes!” That was Treyton. Again.

My body was on fire as I grunted and pushed, sort of expecting the baby to pop out. But nothing. Damn, I wasn’t there yet.

“You can do this, Matt.” Treyton was offering encouragement.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

More cursing, groaning, and bellowing from me. My body wasn’t my own. It’d been taken over by my child who wasn’t as eager to be born as I would have liked.

Gods, was I pushing out a watermelon or a basketball?

“The head,” Rudy yelled.

“The head.” Treyton again.

“The head.” Ranger peered between my legs. He kissed my mating hand and joined it with my other. Holding both, he placed a hand under me on top of Rudy’s. “You got this. We’ve got this.”

Closing my eyes and using my last bit of strength, I pushed, and Ranger whispered, “I have the baby’s head in my hand.” I reached down and ran my fingers over our little one’s scalp.

More pushing and the shoulders were out, and finally, our baby. Rudy bundled our little one in a blanket while Ranger carried me to the bed. I unwrapped our son… a son, and I kissed his damp brow while admiring the dark hair stuck to his scalp. I placed the baby on my belly, and Ranger climbed in beside me, pulling the covers over us.

Rudy left us, saying he’d get food.

“Good job, Dad.”

I was beginning to like Treyton. “Thanks.”

A huge cheer went up.

“You all waited?”

“Of course we did,” everyone chorused. “We need to see who he resembles.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

RANGER

“I’ll drive you and wait downstairs.”

Josh had recently returned to the city, and Matt was visiting him to introduce him to his new nephew. I was very protective of my mate, but when it came to our son’s safety, it was difficult letting him out of my sight.

There were days when I brought Storm to work. I had a corner of my office set up as a nursery. Thank gods I was one of the pack’s Betas, and while I wasn’t the Alpha and didn’t have a corner office as Flint did, my space was huge and could have accommodated three or four kids.

When I mentioned that to Matt, he groaned, saying he wasn’t giving birth again any time soon and two was a nice round number. Much as I’d have loved a football team of kids, my mate had to carry the babies, bring them into the world, recover from the birth, feed them exclusively for months, and parent them with me, for the rest of his life. His word was final.

“It’s okay. My brother can bring us home.” Matt was standing on the sidewalk, holding Storm in his car seat. “Go back to work.”

Josh was making my mate lunch, and I wasn’t welcome. I got it. I was mafia and Dane had been too. Dane’s bozos had kidnapped Josh and used him as bait to get Matt. Josh blamed me. Heck, Matt blamed me as well and it was two months before he’d even talk to me.

But Storm was my son too, and the near fiasco with Dane was burned into my brain. When Emilio almost screwed us over, it messed with my head and my sense of trust. Though to be honest, as a shifter, we were always aware of the world around us, and as members of the most prominent shifter mafia organization, we were always looking over our shoulders, anticipating the next betrayal or coup.

As Matt had pointed out, it wasn’t the most stress-free lifestyle, but it was what I knew, and I was surrounded by people I loved. Not many people could say that about their work. It wouldn't be enough for some, but it was what I was willing to accept.

Understandably, Josh saw me as the enemy and refused to have anything to do with me or our family. He hadn’t seen Matt since before he left, though they’d talked and texted plenty. He’d only agreed to meet Storm if I wasn’t around.

“Riggs will be outside the apartment.”

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