Wordlessly, he jumped out of the car and yanked open the back door. With Gloria in my arms, I scooted out of the Rover.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Tyrone’s eyes were frozen wide open.
“Ty, you go back to Gloria’s condo and gather her things. Tilda will help you. And be sure to bring the little red box that’s in my night table drawer.”
“Yes, sir.” Before he could blink, I was running up the street with Gloria in my arms, now sobbing, and our babies on their way. I’m sure onlookers must have thought I was crazy, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. All that mattered was getting Gloria to the hospital before she gave birth.
“Sir, you can’t cross the street right now,” said a staunch, ruddy-faced policeman as I approached the barricade. I was breathing heavily, half from running with the weight of Gloria, half from my state of panic.
“I have to!” I begged, my voice desperate. “My wife is about to give birth.”
The officer shot a quick look at Gloria.
“We’re having twins.” A faint smile curled on her luscious lips. And then she grimaced as another contraction hit her.
The cop quirked a lopsided smile. “Me and my wife have twins. Follow me.”
Was he going to escort us to the hospital by foot or take us in his police car?
The answer was: neither. Gloria let out an ear-piercing shriek and shook in my arms. Every muscle in my body clenched.
“Angel, what’s the matter?”
She clenched her teeth. “I can feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“The babies. They’re coming. Now.”
My heart almost stopped. Holy fucking shit. Right here? Right now? Tell me this wasn’t happening.
“Sir, have you ever delivered a baby?” asked the officer.
“No!” Was he out of his fucking mind?
“Well, you’re about to.”