Killer & Hope - Bonus Content

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Chapter 1
 
HOPE
 
My curse of being a light sleeper continues. Sharp, shooting pains through my abdomen wakes me. Inhaling deeply through my nostrils, I stare at the framed wedding picture on my nightstand, illuminated by the light from the streetlamp filtering through the chink in the heavy damask curtains.
            It’s my favorite picture from our wedding. Jacob is seated astride Gray’s shoulders, clinging to his short hair. I’m laughing up at him as he gives me a gummy grin. Gray has one hand holding Jacob’s ankle, the other curled around my waist, and he is looking at me with so much love butterflies erupt in my stomach every time I look at this picture. So, of course, I made sure it’s the first thing I see every morning.
            Another shooting pain catches me unawares, dragging my attention away from the beautiful photograph, my breath hissing out between my teeth. Gray murmurs something in his sleep, rolling over and throwing his arm over me, his hand automatically finding my stomach, caressing it.
            I smile, the pain receding. The first time the baby kicked when Gray’s hand was like this, he woke up like a kid on Christmas morning. Now, a kick won’t wake him, though he does stroke my belly in his sleep, which is just adorable.
            We’re having a boy. I’m glad Jacob will have a little brother. Technically a cousin, but I can’t think of Jacob as anything other than a son, so…brother. Gray doesn’t know. I was so excited when I found out, but Gray left the room and refused to let me tell him. I would have thought my control-freak husband would have been dying to know, but no. He’s excited about the surprise.
            Another contraction hits, and I close my eyes, willing it to be over. They’re still pretty far apart and irregular. No need to wake anyone up. I know I won’t get any more sleep, but everyone else should.
            Slowly easing myself out from under Gray’s hold, I slip out of bed, sneaking into the bathroom in the darkness. Closing the door firmly, I hit the light and blink in the sudden brightness. The dark spots clear, and I open the drawer where I stashed my pregnancy pads, slipping one on.
Hey, I’m a nurse. I know if contractions have started, it’s only a matter of time until my waters break, and no one wants to have to clean up that mess from the carpet. Least of all me.
I flip the light off, tiptoeing back into the bedroom. Gray is still fast asleep, so I let myself out, peeking into Jacob’s room on my way past. He’s still fast asleep as well, clutching his daddy’s old teddy against his face.
He and Alfie Bear are inseparable. I’ve caught Gray watching him play tea parties with the bear with suspiciously bright eyes more than once. I have also seen him playing tea parties with Jacob and Alfie Bear more than once. The sight was unbelievably adorable. Let’s just say there’s a reason I’m about to have a baby.
Softly closing Jacob’s door, I pad my way into the kitchen, flipping on the coffee machine and frowning as I add decaf coffee to it. I miss real coffee. The decaf is okay to drink but does absolutely nothing for my exhaustion.
My phone is charging on the counter. Sighing, I pick it up, tapping out a message to Lena. She’d kill me if I only let her know at the last minute that the baby was coming.
I’m pouring my mug of disappointing coffee when my phone buzzes with a reply. Seriously? It’s the middle of the night. Why isn’t she sleeping?
LENA: OMG!!! YAY!!! I’m on standby. Let me know when you’re about to go to the hospital, and I’ll wake Aric to come over and look after Jacob.
HOPE: Why aren’t you sleeping?
LENA: 6 months pregnant. Remember? The heartburn is real, and my sleep is non-existent.
            Ouch. I’m so glad I never had heartburn. The constant tossing and turning were bad enough to disrupt my sleep. Collecting my mug, I take it and my phone and curl up on the couch, flicking on some late-night cooking show.
            My bag is packed and waiting at the door. The nursery is all ready to go. There’s nothing for me to do but wait. I’m learning what it feels like when a contraction is coming, so I quickly put my mug down, holding my stomach and doing my breathing exercises like they showed us in the birth class. It’s going to be a long night.
 

 
KILLER
 
My fingers close on empty sheets. What the fuck? I’m upright before I’m even fully awake. Where the hell is Hope? Shoving out of bed, I stride into the bathroom, but it’s empty. Fuck me. Snagging sweats and a shirt, I hop along the hallway, tugging them on, stumbling to a stop when I get to the living room.
            My heart calms down because Hope is curled up on the couch, some cooking show flickering on the TV.
            “Love? Is everything okay?”
            She glances up at my words, offering me a tired smile. She’s always fucking tired these days. I know I wanted a baby badly, but I feel like a fucking ass seeing what she’s going through with the pregnancy. They never tell you that it’s hell for your wife. Probably because if they did, you’d never let her do it.
            “The contractions woke me. I’m okay,” Hope whispers. Contractions? Fucking hell.
            I’m across the room in three strides, sinking to my knees in front of her, my hands caressing her huge, round stomach.
            “Contractions? Shit. Do we need to go to the hospital?”
            Hope smiles down at me, stroking her fingers through my hair.
            “Not yet. They’re…oooh!”
            Her fingers tighten painfully in my hair, her face contorting with agony. My breath hisses between my teeth - half from my hair being pulled, but mainly from seeing how much pain she is in. Hope pants a little and relaxes, her fingers releasing my hair.
            “They’re getting more regular, but they’re still about ten minutes apart. We don’t go to the hospital until they are five minutes apart, or my waters break.”
            Right. They said that at the birthing classes. Standing, I sit on the couch, tugging Hope against my side, dropping kisses in her hair.
            “What do you need me to do, love?”
            “Just this,” she sighs. “I’ve already texted Lena. She’ll wake Aric when we’re ready to leave. My bag is at the door. Jacob is asleep.” She grins mischievously up at me. “I wouldn’t say no to a foot rub.”
            Smirking down at her, I slide along the couch, Hope eagerly turning to her side as I pick up her foot, holding it in my lap and massaging it. I’ve got fucking good at this. Hope’s feet were one of the first things about her to swell. I was terrible the first couple of times - she spent more time laughing at me tickling her than relaxing - but now I’m a fucking foot-rub pro.
            “That feels amazing, Gray,” she whispers, her eyes closing, her cheek leaning against the leather of the back of the couch. Grinning, I keep rubbing her feet, the flawlessly coifed woman on the screen showing how to make a perfect soufflé. Seems finicky. Just fucking buy one.

 
Chapter 2
 
HOPE
 
Moaning, I do my breathing exercises, flexing my fingers.
            “That’s five minutes again, love. It’s time.”
            My eyes fly open, fixing on Gray at the other end of the couch, my feet in his lap as he holds up the timer on his phone. He’s right. That’s four in a row at five minutes apart. It’s time.
            “You call Lena. I’ll go check on Jacob.”
            He pats my feet, lifting them out of his lap as he leaves the room. Picking up my phone, I dial Lena’s number. I was hoping to last until the sun came up, at least, but that’s not going to happen.
            “Hope? Is it time?” Lena doesn’t even let me get a hello out when she answers.
            “Yeah. If it’s not too much trouble?”
            “Too much trouble? Are you fucking kidding me! Aric! Get up!”
            I giggle into the phone, Lena’s answering giggle sounding in my ear.
            “Baby time?” Aric rumbles sleepily at the other end.
            “Baby time for Killer and Hope,” Lena agrees. Probably a good thing she clarified. Aric would have gone crazy in his sleepy state if he had thought their baby was coming so early. He would have had Lena at the hospital before she could explain they needed to be here.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” she assures me.
            Hanging up, I carefully climb to my feet - a hard task these days.
            “Easy, love. I’ve got you.”
            Gray is at my side, one hand cupping my elbow, the other curled around my waist as he helps me stand. I bite back a smile.
            “Still not breakable,” I murmur to him. His answering chuckles brush against my ear.
            “Always breakable to me.”
            “You’re just feeling guilty because you did this to me.”
            “Guilty as charged. If I could feel everything for you, Hope, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
            My heart aches at the sincerity threading through his words.
            “I know you would, Gray.”
            I wrap my arms around his waist, turning as his arms come around me. I tip my head back, and he presses his forehead against mine, our eyes burning together.
            “I love you so much, Hope. You know that, right?”
            His eyes are suspiciously bright.
            “Are you going to cry when you hold your… baby?” I catch myself just in time to stop myself saying son. He grins at my teasing tone.
            “Love, I’m going to sob like a little bitch.”
            I grin widely, leaning back to take in his whole face. “I won’t tell a soul.”
            “Fuck ‘em,” Gray grins back down at me. “They can know. I don’t give a shit.”
            My nostrils flare, and my fingers tighten on the back of Gray’s shirt as another contraction rolls through. Gray’s arms freeze around me, his fingers massaging circles on my lower back.
            “Breathe, love. I’m here. It will be over soon.”
            Nodding, I let out a ragged breath, pressing my forehead against his chest.
            “Lena and Aric will be here soon. Then we’ll go to the hospital. I called the doc from the hall. He’s on his way to the hospital.”
            A hammering at the door has Gray stepping away from me. He crosses to it, opening it and grinning as Aric bundles Lena into the room.
            “Trust you to have a fucking kid on the coldest night of the year,” Aric snaps at Gray.
            Lena ignores them, rolling her eyes and hurrying across to me. She gives me a hug - slightly awkward when both our bellies get in the way - and grins at me.
            “Good luck! We’ll bring Jacob to the hospital after.”
            Lena glances over her shoulder, rolling her eyes again as Aric glares at her, imperiously pointing at the couch. Sighing, Lena drops onto it, snagging a throw rug and settling it on her lap.
            “Happy?” she snipes at Aric, who glowers back.
            “Ecstatically.” He sounds more sarcastic than happy, but I catch a ghost of a smile as he turns to collect our bags, ready to take them out to the new SUV the boys from the garage delivered last week. They had already installed a baby carrier across from Jacob’s booster seat.
            Gray waves to Lena, helping me into my coat. It doesn’t close at the front anymore, but it will do. My eyebrows shoot up when he sets my knitted cap on my head and wraps a scarf around my neck.
            “Seems overkill to go to the car,” I mutter. Gray shoots me a glower to match Aric’s and pulls on his leather jacket, wrapping an arm around my waist to help me outside and down the porch steps.
            My breath catches as we step off the porch. Gray’s insistence on the warmer clothes makes sense now. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, swirling around prettily.
            “It’s snowing,” I breathe in wonder, tipping my head back.
            “It’s a good sign,” Gray murmurs in my ear. “Snow in the desert just in time to welcome our baby.”
            I grin up at him as he walks me to the SUV. I didn’t know he had it in him to be so poetic.
 

 
KILLER
 
Doc Menzies is waiting for us at the hospital. He has a wheelchair for Hope. She looks like she’s about to argue. I open my mouth to tell her to sit down, but the doc beats me to it.
            “You’re my patient now, Hope. You do as you’re told.”
            Huffing a sigh, she grips my hand tightly, carefully lowering herself into the chair. I carry her bag, holding her hand as Doc Menzies wheels her along.
            “I’ve got you set up in here.” He leads us into a private room with its own bathroom. Setting the bag on the bed, I turn around, just as Hope speaks up.
            “My waters just broke.”
            Fucking hell. This is getting real now. My eyes snap to her crotch, but I don’t see any water. The videos they made us watch in the birthing classes made it seems like an entire whiskey bottle’s worth of liquid was going to come out.
            “I put a pregnancy pad on,” she tells Doc Menzies, who smiles down at her.
            “Good idea. Let’s get you to the birthing suite. The midwives can check you out and get you comfortable. Now, should I call an anesthetist?”
            Hope starts to shake her head as I glare at her. We discussed this. She was rabbiting on about doing things “naturally”, I think she should get an epidural, stubborn woman.
            “Not yet,” Hope says firmly. Doc Menzies nods slowly.
            “You know as well as I do that you’re rapidly approaching the point of no return, Hope.”
            I think that’s when it’s too late to have an epidural. Hope shakes her head again. Fuck that. A nurse comes in, squealing and hugging Hope - they must have worked together when Hope worked here.
            My fingers close around Doc Menzies upper arm, jerking him toward me.
            “Get the anesthetist. I want them on standby,” I growl. Doc Menzies has worked for us for a long time and doesn’t even blink. He grins and nods.
            “She’ll meet us there. I’ll page her now.”
            Good. Hope’s not the only one who can be stubborn.

 
Chapter 3
 
HOPE
 
My contractions are getting stronger. Sucking in air isn’t doing much now. I feel like I’m being ripped in two. My stomach contracts too. Oh no.
            “Um,” I squeak. Jolene, one of my old colleagues, takes one look at my face, holds up her hand to stop Dr. Menzies from pushing the wheelchair, and has a sick bag to my mouth right as I hurl.
            “Love?” Gray’s voice sounds concerned as he crouches down, taking my hands.
            I finish being violently ill and lean back, feeling clammy and shaking.
            “I’m okay,” I croak at him. His worried brown eyes search my face, moving up to look at Dr. Menzies over my head.
            “Perfectly normal. Just the pain.”
            Gray’s hands squeeze mine, our eyes locking again.
            “Please, Hope. Having an epidural doesn’t make you any less strong.”
            My heart thumps. I know it’s hard for Gray to see me in pain. But I’m not pushing back on the epidural because of any silly notion about it not being a “real” birth if I have medical intervention. No. I just know the statistics. I know what can go wrong.
            “I’m scared,” I whisper. Gray’s hands tighten again.
            “I’ll be right here. The doc will make sure they’re the best.”
            My breath leaves me in a whoosh. I love this man so much. I love that he automatically knew what I was scared of. I love how well he knows me. I have no idea what I did to deserve him, but whatever it was, I’m so glad I did it.
            “I’ll try.”
            Gray beams, looking relieved. He stands, still crouching, leaning in to kiss me. At the last second, he veers off, pressing the kiss to my clammy forehead instead. Right. Vomit. I tip my head back, looking into Dr. Menzies’ reassuring eyes.
            “If I have an epidural, can I brush my teeth after?”
            “I’ll fetch a toothbrush myself.”
            “Okay.” I can do this.
            We start moving again, and I’m wheeled into the comfortable birth suite. I relax immediately as my eyes land on the anesthetist waiting beside the bed. Dr. Azzopardi. She’s the best anesthetist in the hospital. She also looks like she got dressed in a hurry. I don’t think she was on call tonight. Doc Menzies must have called her when Gray called him.
            Gray lifts me onto the bed, and Dr. Azzopardi approaches, a warm smile on her face.
            “Sorry about this. You look like it was the last thing you were expecting,” I murmur as she leans over me.
            “Oh, I’m being well-compensated, don’t you worry about that. You just relax. You’re having a baby.”
I nod as she starts to run through what I already know - everything that can go wrong.
            Gray listens carefully to her, glaring fiercely, his hand tight on mine.
            “I need you to confirm you understand the risks and are happy to proceed, Hope.” Dr. Azzopardi is looking at me expectantly. Gray squeezes my hand again.
            “I understand,” I choke out. She nods, positioning me on the bed and handing me a pillow to hold and hunch over.
            It happens more quickly than I thought it would. We have to pause for a contraction, but then I’m lying on the bed, contractions feeling less and less painful with each one.
            “Perfect,” Dr. Azzopardi beams at me. “I’m going for a coffee. Someone will page me if I’m needed again, but hopefully, this will all be over before you need a top-up.”
            Yeah, I hope so too.
 

 
KILLER
 
Thank fuck for epidurals. I had no idea all the shit that could go wrong with them, but Hope is resting comfortably now, and she got to brush her teeth. Doc Livingstone, her OBGYN, arrived at some point to assist Doc Menzies.
I have mainly ignored them, stroking Hope’s hair and speculating what the baby will look like as she giggles at me.
            I’m just guessing. I’ve never seen a newborn before. Hope has, so I think the giggles mean I’m completely wrong about everything. Doc Livingstone does something between Hope’s legs and beams across the bed at us.
            “Fully dilated, Hope. When you next feel the pressure of a contraction, I want you to push.”
            Hope nods, squeezing my hand. I grip back as they position Hope’s feet up in the stirrups, and she grunts, frowning in concentration. Doc Livingstone smiles over at her when Hope relaxes.
            “Well done, Hope. But I need a little more. How about your husband drops your hand. In the next contraction, I want you to grip your knees with both hands and really push. If your face isn’t red, you’re not doing it hard enough. And push down, like you’re going to the bathroom.”
            Fucking hell. TMI, Doc.
            “If I don’t hold her hand, what do I do, Doc?”
            I’m thrown a wry smile.
            “Hold her shoulders. Gripping her knees will bring them off the bed. Just support her there.”
            Hope leans forward, gripping her knees, and I slip an arm behind her shoulders, holding her up. She grunts with the exertion of her pushing, and this time, Doc Livingstone beams at her.
            “Perfect. A few more like that, and we’ll be crowning.”
            Hope is panting, nodding along. She reaches for her knees again, her face screwing up, slowly turning red.
            “Good, Hope!” the doc cheers. I hope this means it’s going to be over soon. Even though I know she’s not in pain, this is fucking hard to watch.
            Hope pushes a few more times, and then the doc looks at me.
            “Well done, Hope. The baby is crowning. Did you want to watch this bit, daddy?”
            Fucking hell, do I? Hope reaches for her knees, starting to push. Fuck. Yeah, I do. Stepping to the side, I crane my neck, my eyes locked between Hope’s legs as the baby’s head appears. I can see the shock of dark hair, and the head is a bit misshapen, but that’s it.
            “No more pushing, Hope! Just pant, pant, pant!”
            Still gripping her knees, Hope pants as the doc instructs, and the baby slides out straight into the doc’s hands. She grabs it, flipping it over as a small cry sounds out.
            I don’t need to hear her congratulations, it’s a boy. I can fucking see that. My son. I sniff, wiping away the tears.
            “Want to do the honors, daddy?”
            I glance over to where the doc is holding a pair of surgical scissors out to me. Right. The cord. Doc Menzies has clamped it and points to where I’m supposed to cut. It’s not like clipping paper. I wiggle the scissors, and it breaks through.
            Doc Livingstone places our son on Hope’s chest as a nurse takes the surgical scissors away from me. I let them, not even sparing a glance. I can’t tear my eyes away from the sight of my son nuzzling against my beautiful wife’s chest.
            Moving back to the side of the bed, I crouch there, pressing a kiss to Hope’s lips.
            “You’re a fucking warrior, love.”
            “He’s here.” Her voice breaks, and a tear slips from her eye. “And you’re crying.” She half laughs, smiling up at me.
            I grin down at her, wiping my streaming eyes with the back of my hand. “Told you I would.”
            “All right, Hope.” Doc Livingstone interrupts our little moment. “We’re going to clean him up, and then daddy can have a hold. We have the next bit of pushing to do.”
            More pushing? Hope nods like she knows what that means, letting a nurse take our son. I sit down in the armchair near the bed when Doc Menzies points to it. They clean up our son, wrapping him up in a little blue blanket and handing him to me, showing me how to cradle his head.
            My eyes drink in his red, scrunched-up little face. Hope grunts, and I glance up sharply. She’s pushing again. What the fuck?
            “Afterbirth,” Doc Menzies says from beside me. “Routine. Nothing to worry about.”
            Right. Birth stuff. I keep my eyes on Hope. She leans back on the bed, turning her eyes to us, smiling.
            “I’m glad that’s over.” She sounds exhausted but fine. Reassured, I turn my eyes back to our son.
            “Still thinking of a name?” Doc Menzies asks above me.
            “No. Simon Conrad Killen,” Hope says, my heart swelling. Jacob doesn’t carry Conrad’s name, but I wanted my son to. Hope suggested a middle name, which I like. Our son isn’t Conrad - I wouldn’t want him to be. He’s his own person - but I like that he has his name.

 
Chapter 4
 
KILLER
 
Hope is all showered, tucked up in the bed in the nice private room Doc Menzies organized for us. Simon is sleeping soundly beside her in a small bassinet on wheels. I’m pacing nervously. I called Aric to give him the good news half an hour ago. They should be here soon.
            There’s a tap at the door, and I stride over, opening it and peering out. Aric and Lena are standing there, Jacob beside them, holding Aric’s hand.
            “Is the baby here yet, Daddy?” he asks in his high, piping voice. Crouching down, I grin at him.
            “Yeah, buddy. He is. You ready to meet your little brother, Simon?”
            “Yes, please, Daddy!”
            Jacob lets go of Aric’s hand, flapping both his hands around excitedly. I straighten, grasping his hand as Aric claps me on the shoulder and Lena beams at me.
            “Twice a daddy now,” Aric laughs. “You get to learn the hard way, and the rest of us can learn from your mistakes.”
            Lena giggles. I flip him off. Thankfully, Jacob is straining at the door and doesn’t see me - Hope would have my balls.
            I lead the three of them into the room. Hope’s eyes have opened, and she’s watching us with a smile. Aric and Lena move to her bedside as she sits up. Aric drops a kiss on her cheek, and Lena places the huge vase of flowers down beside Hope’s bed, hugging her tightly.
            Lifting Jacob, I set him on the bed. He immediately scrambles over to Hope, hugging her tightly and pressing kisses to her face.
            “Good job, Mummy.”
            She laughs, hugging him back, but he’s spotted Simon, turning eagerly with wide eyes. Carefully, I lift Simon, cradling him as I perch on the edge of the bed beside Jacob.
            “This is Simon.”
            Jacob’s eyes are wide and round. He leans closer, slowly, his eyes locked on Simon’s small face. Right as he gets within inches, Simon yawns, his little eyes fluttering open. They’re bright blue, which is apparently common. They’ll probably go brown like me, Hope, and Jacob in the next few months.
            Jacob lifts a little hand, reaching for Simon’s face.
            “Careful, buddy,” I warn him. He nods, not looking up, his eyes still locked on Simon.
            “Hello, Simon,” he whispers, resting his little hand against Simon’s cheek. Simon stares at him, blinking slowly. Then he gurgles, and a tear slides down my cheek. Well, that was fucking beautiful.
            I glance over to the other three. Hope is crying too, beaming at us. Lena is holding her hands to her chest, looking like Christmas came two weeks early, and Aric is blinking, clearing his throat. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying not to cry too, but surely not.
He catches me watching him, grinning and flipping me off.
            “Come on, angel.” Aric’s arm curls around Lena’s waist. “Let’s go get me some shitty coffee and let them have their moment. Then you can hold the baby.”
            Lena grumbles but lets him lead her away. I hand Simon to Hope, who cradles him and crawl onto the bed, propping myself beside her, an arm anchoring her to my side. Jacob crawls over, snuggling in my lap, his head resting against my chest as he stares at Simon.
            “All done for babies now?” Hope whispers, looking up at me. I press a kiss to the end of her nose.
            “Yeah, if you are. This is pretty perfect.”
            “Yeah, it is.”
I rest my cheek against the top of her head as she smiles down at Jacob and Simon. We did pretty good, Conrad and me. If he were here, I know he would be saying the same thing.
 
The End.
 

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