Page 137 of Beast: Part Two

The entire conversation strikes me as odd, but I shrug it off. I head back into the kitchen.

“How did it go?” Malia asks as soon as I walk in.

“Not how I expected.”

We go back to enjoying our time. I don’t think about Raina’s call or the abrupt way she got off the phone again.

After getting everything prepared for dinner, the three of us went out to the back porch to watch Emory and Gabe play.

Nealy an hour had passed since that phone call when Brooklyn gasps and grabs her belly.

“Are you okay?” I ask leaning up from my seat.

She nods, but quickly looks horrified as she looks down at her lap. The seat cushion beneath her is a dark gray color. The total opposite compared to the light colors of the others. She climbs to her feet and a gush of liquid hits the floor. When she looks up, her eyes are wide.

“Oh shit, my water just broke. It’s too soon,” she says before her words turn into a moan.

Malia and I rush into action.

“You’re thirty-seven weeks, you’re going to be okay,” Malia wraps one arm around Brooklyn.

Brooklyn groans as a contraction hits. “Fuck, this shit hurts,” she complains.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” I say.

“Emory, Gabe, come on,” Malia calls out to the kids.

Both run up to us.

“Mama, did aunt Brooklyn have and accident?” Gabe whispers toward me.

“No,” Emory’s computerized tablet voice says. “Her water broke. The babies are coming.”

“Yay, more cousins,” Gabe cheers.

We make our way back into the house and toward the garage. Thank goodness for all the cars left behind. Not long ago, we all sat down and went over the birthing plan for this situation. The guys told us who to call, what hospital to go to, and what name to give when we check in.

“Wait,” Brooklyn grabs my hand before we make it to the garage door. “I don’t even have a bag packed. I wasn’t prepared, we were going to pack this weekend.”

“Okay, breathe, Brooklyn,” I guide her. “Malia is going to take you to the hospital, I’ll pack your bag. I still remember what you’ll need.”

“Oh my goodness, thank you….aahhhhh,” she squeals as another contraction hits.

“They’re about seven minutes apart,” I tell Malia. “Call Hawk in the car on the way to the hospital. I will be behind you shortly with a bag.”

“I got it. I’ll take Emory with me,” she says.

Emory opens the door, and we help Brooklyn into the black Porsche Cayenne. I get her situated while Malia gets in the driver's seat.

“I’m right behind you,” I tell Malia. “Call Hawk.”

Malia, Emory, and Brooklyn pull out of the garage. I head back into the house to pack Brooklyn’s bag. Gabe helps me gather everything Brooklyn and Hawk will need, along with a few baby things. I load the two bags into the trunk of the BentleyBentayga. I have never in my life ridden in a car this nice. But every car in this garage was nice. And although the Maserati and the Hellcat were appealing, this one felt like a safer choice.

I head back into the house.

“Okay, Gabe. Let’s go?” I call out to my son. However, he’s nowhere in sight. I walk into the living room and come to a complete stop. Sitting beside a man with the same face and eye color as Gabriel, is my son.

“Look mama, I got more family.”

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