Linebacker’s Second Chance(55)

“I guess I should get Mack.” Wingate smiles, pulling me gently towards the door. He looks down at the white padded carpet of the stadium box, and his incredibly white face goes even whiter. “Don’t freak out. But it’s changed.” He gulps.

“What’s changed?” I whip my head around like I’m trying to figure out what in the hell he’s talking about.

“Your water. It’s not supposed to be bright red, is it?”

In slow motion, I look down. At my feet, there’s a pool of bright red blood, viscous and sticky, and hot. And there’s more coming. “Oh my God. Wingate. Leave me here. Get Mack!” Another contraction comes, and this time it’s far worse than the rest. Something inside of me is breaking, and my God, the baby isn’t moving. Something is deeply, deeply wrong.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m calling 911—”

“There’s no need. I’m sure we can make it to the hospital—” I say it, and I know I’m wrong. Wingate takes his phone out of his pocket and dials. He looks over at me, and I nod hard, clutching my belly and leaning against the wall.

“Operator—we need an ambulance at the stadium right now. My cousin’s wife is in labor, and she’s bleeding—yes, a lot. Hell, I don’t know how many weeks—just get a goddamn ambulance here. We need one five minutes ago!”

Wingate continues to curse into the phone, and I close my eyes and slump against the wall. There’s more chatter, and then, Wingate’s long arm is wrapped around my shoulder. I feel cold, and my teeth chatter, my body shaking like a leaf.

“Mack is coming, Renata. Come on. Stick with me. This is our family. We’re going to stick together. We came out here together, and we’re going to stay that way. You hear me? You and Mack aren’t losing each other again, and I’m not losing my little cousin either. You hear me? I’m not.”

The door to the stadium box swings open, and I open my eyes for a frantic second to see Mack storming through, ripping off his helmet and uniform so that he can get close to me and hold tight to my other shoulder. I barely feel his body, but I can sense his presence. Strength pours through me at the feeling of him being next to me.

“We can do this,” he says. “You got this. It’s okay.” I close my eyes again and hear he and Wingate yelling at each other. Mack is apparently chastising him for not getting me to the hospital.

After that, everything goes in a blur. The sound of an ambulance breaks through my consciousness, and soon I feel my body lifted and carried.

Beneath me, wheels start to move.

I’m barely conscious. But I’m hanging on.

Because Mack’s hand is in mine.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN





“It’s okay, Renata. It’s going to be okay.” I just repeat that over and over again as I hold her hand in the ambulance, trying to look away from the blood. It’s bright red, but it doesn’t mean that this is the end. There’s an IV in her arm, and she’s hooked up to all the monitors they’ve got in here. On the screen, there are two heartbeats. Hers, and the baby’s.

Beep, beep, beep. Steady, steady. Not fast like it’s been on the ultrasound, but steady enough. In distress, I heard one of the EMTs say. In distress. Well, that makes three of us, doesn’t it?

“Hang on, baby,” I mutter, though I’m not exactly sure who I’m talking to. Maybe Renata. Maybe both of them. “Keep hanging on. We’re getting there.”

Renata’s eyes flutter open for an instant, and I squeeze her hand hard. “Come on baby, stay right with me. Don’t go to sleep.” I don’t know if it’s good for her to go to sleep or not, but something in me just wants to keep staring into her deep brown eyes, to reassure me that it’ll be okay, even if it isn’t. I need to know that she’s with me, that she’s with me like I’ve always wanted her to be, always needed her to be. Not distant, not far removed, not all the way across the country.

“I’m with you,” she croaks, bringing a hand down to her belly. “I’m with both of you. Do you hear me?”

“That’s right, baby girl,” I say. “You’re going to be strong like me and smart like your mom. You better behave yourself until we get to the hospital.”

Weakly, Renata laughs and squeezes my hand as hard as she can. “Don’t you go telling her what to do. I think she already had her mind made up that she was coming early. She’s just a complicated woman, that’s all. Complex thoughts and lots of energy. She’ll get her safe. She’ll get her safe--don’t you worry.”