Page 170 of Merciless Desires

“Dr. O’Rourke. Look, I’m—” I’m ready to tell them I’m in the middle of a personal emergency, but the hospital operator speaks over me.

“Doctor? I’m so glad I reached you. Your…um, friend is here. She’s in labor.”

“Friend?” My heart stops. “What? Sta… Ana is there? At the hospital?”

“Ana Michaels. Yes, she…walked in. She’s having contractions. We have you down as her emergency contact. We paged Dr. Federov, who signed off on her ultrasound. She doesn’t have an OB listed on her chart.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Ana’s in labor. She’s not been abducted. Maybe she dropped the phone somewhere along the way. Wait, she’s at my hospital? When did she get there? I was just there! What a fucking waste of time.

Rushing back down the stairs, I call Lucy and ask her to keep Sophie because I actually have an emergency. I hate pushing my daughter off on someone else, and once Ana is stable, I’ll come back and get her.

The traffic clears up, and I reach the hospital in record time. At the parking garage, I leave my car on the apron and toss my keys to the attendant, citing an emergency. My feet pound the wet payment, splashes of water hitting my ankles.

I jog to the emergency entrance a few doors down and shout to the admin attendant, showing my I.D. “Open the doors!”

They swing open, and like a maniac, I check all the bays. But it’s Ana’s screaming that leads me to her. I’ve never delivered a baby, and Sophie was born via scheduled C-Section.

“I’m here.” I rush to Ana’s side, and the way her red-rimmed eyes lock on mine weakens me. Gripping her hand, I push my face into hers. “I’m here.”

“I came to see you, and my water broke,” she strains. “God, this hurts.”

“Her contractions are very close,” the nurse informs me. “Dr. Federov is on his way. He said it’s too late to give her Pitocin.”

“Fuck,” I mumble. “Okay, baby. I’m gonna get you through this. I’m sorry. I know you’re in pain. I’d take it away if I could.”

A gurney shows up, and she’s wheeled into an emergency delivery room.

“Where’s Federov?” I shout out to the nurses’ station.

“He’s on his way,” an admin nurse at the desk answers.

A labor and delivery nurse coaches Ana on breathing. “He’ll be here, honey.”

“Don’t…want…Federov.” Ana breathes, looking at me. “Russian.”

That makes me laugh, and I whisper, “He’s not Bratva. I promise.”

But her screaming kills me. I recall the breathing we did in the prenatal class and try to keep Ana calm.

“The baby’s crowning,” the nurse says.

Fuck, this is happening too quickly.

“Help me, Darragh.” Ana sounds scared.

Even though I know this is completely natural based on my training, my sanity is out the window.

“Sit up, baby. Hold the railing.” I kiss her sweaty forehead, and I wait for her to acknowledge with a soft nod. “Move,” I say to the nurse. “I’m delivering this baby.”

She takes my place at Ana’s side.

“Okay, Ana, when I say push, you bear down.” I make eye contact with her, letting her know for sure she’s mine.

A few pushes later, I’m holding a healthy baby boy. A son.

My son.

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