Keys To My Cuffs (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 4) (25 page)

Lola was doing well under the circumstances, and three and a half months after the accident that took her mom so suddenly, she was accepting an award for perfect attendance and honor’s society.

Loki got out and walked toward my door, but I was already hefting myself out of my wedding present from Loki.

He’d been working on my Pontiac Firebird in secret for months, and had only given it to me yesterday. He’d tried to convince me to take the truck today, but I’d been adamant that we take the Firebird. I was sure it was going to be sweet.

And it was. It was so beyond everything I ever wanted that I could literally kiss his feet.

If I could heft my fat ass down there.

“It’s convenient that you have that nifty little police badge that lets you park wherever you want to park,” I said dryly.

“Yep. Really convenient,” he agreed.

“You know, this’ll be us in sixteen years,” I said conversationally.

He turned his head to me, his pale blue eyes pinning me to his gaze. “I can’t fucking wait.”

You can take your ‘breathe’ and shove it up your ass.

-Channing, hour eight of labor

Loki

Two nights later

“Give her a focal point. Something to look at,” the nurse suggested to me.

Dixie, who, God only knew why he was in the room, calmly walked forward, and then lifted up his shirt to show off his massive belly.

Honest to God, I couldn’t make this shit up.

The room was far from empty.

Nurses, a doctor, two interns, and two nursing students crowded into the small space much to Channing’s annoyance.

Every single one of them laughed, even Channing.

“Is that good?” Dixie asked Channing.

Tears were still pouring down her cheeks, but at least she was smiling.

Even all these months later, tears still killed me. Especially hers. And God help me when this kid finally made his arrival, because his would too.

“I need more ice chips,” Channing groaned.

I looked at the nearly full cup of ice she was holding in her hands. “Why? That one’s nearly full.”

The little pink cup that was holding the ice chips went sailing through the air, and smashed into the far wall directly next to where Baylee was standing.

The ice chips hit the wall with a thud, and the sound of thousands of shards of ice hit the tiled floor with a spray.

Baylee was too busy laughing her ass off to realize she’d nearly been brained with a cup of ice.

“Those ice chips suck balls. I want new ice chips. Ones that aren’t melted,” she snarled.

I backed away from her slowly, darting past the two student nurses who were standing in the corner of the room with wide eyes.

My feet crunched on the ice as I exited the room, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting the little she-devil some motherfuckin’ ice.

“Can I help you, sir?” The lone woman who was at the nurse’s station asked.

Today was a full moon, and apparently a very busy night.

Channing had gone into labor earlier this morning, but she’d waited it out until around seven in the evening.

When Channing had first told me she didn’t want to have any drug interventions, I’d thought she’d gone off her rocker.

But arguing with the pregnant woman was suicidal.

The nurse came back quickly and handed me a cup of ice. “Thanks,” I muttered, before hustling back to the room.

When I entered the room, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Well?” Channing yelled.

“Uhh,” one of the baby doc’s said.

“It feels like it’s on fire. Can you put some ice on it?” Channing groaned.

“Channing, your, ah, clitoris
is not on fire. It’s only a side effect of the crowning. Now, I’ve got you all in position. Push on the next contraction, okay?” Dr. Summer said
with a laugh in his voice.

I looked at Brittany, Baylee, Adeline, and Viddy, who were all standing in the corner with beat red faces, and raised my eyebrows at them.

They shook their heads, refusing to answer.

Turning, I strode up to Channing, crunching on the ice once again, and came up to her side.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked as I ran my hand along her sweaty forehead.

She turned her eyes to me and glared. “My clit is burning. Will you hold some of that ice on it?” she asked.

“Uhh,” I looked at Dr. Summer for support.

Dr. Summer shrugged. He was a smart man.

Thus, that’s how I found myself holding a piece of ice over my wife’s clit while she pushed our child out.

“Push from your bottom,” Dr. Summer said when the next contraction hit.

Channing curled up over her belly, and started pushing.

“If I shit, just look away, okay?” Channing panted.

Knowing this was an argument I couldn’t win, I told her what she wanted to hear.

“Okay,” I agreed quickly.

Jesus Christ, why were women so fucking worried about that? There were a million and one different things to worry about, and she’s worried about shitting on the table.

“Breathe, pant, there you go,” I encouraged her.

Her forehead, neck, and hair were covered in sweat.

Her hand went to the sleeve of my shirt, and she pulled me down until I was eye level with her.

Then she said, “Get the fuck out of my face.”

I stepped back, giving her some space, and definitely not touching her.

“Excellent, Channing. Is it all right if I let one of the interns take over from here?” Dr. Summer asked.

“If you leave the room I’m following you,” she snarled.

I was secretly glad. Not that I didn’t think the interns needed to learn, but it sure as fuck didn’t need to happen on my woman and child.

The tendons in Channing’s neck relaxed as the contraction waned.

“Channing, darling, how are you feeling?” The baby doc asked.

Channing calmly looked around, and then closed her eyes. “I want to bash every one of your faces in with a nine iron.”

I turned abruptly to stare at the wall, trying, with all I had, to control the guffaws of laughter that were threatening to pour out of my chest.

Dixie didn’t bother to contain his. He just laughed, and let his big belly jiggle.

The nurses and doctors all cracked smiles just as another contraction started up.

We repeated the pushing process for nearly two hours.

Those two hours were the longest two hours of my life.

On the last contraction, the intern started shoving his hand up my woman’s vagina, and I was about to lose my shit when Channing yelled, “Get out of my cunt, you big handed heifer!”

And with that, our five pound, six ounce little boy, Justice Reese Rector, made his way into this world, spitting mad just like his mother.

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch,” Channing said, tiredly, later that night.

I looked up from my little boy’s face to find her on her side facing me, eyes finally open.

I smiled at her warmly. “You didn’t mean any of it, honey. I know.”

She closed her eyes again. “Baylee showed me a video of some of the things I’d said while you were with Justice when he was getting a bath. I know I was a bitch.”

I snorted.

That was the understatement of the century, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.

“So...did Dixie see my coochie?” She smiled.

A startled laugh burst free of my chest, shaking the baby and making him cry out. “No, I think he slipped out at some point,” I said as I patted the tiny boy who’d already stolen a piece of my heart.

Her head fell back against the pillow, and her eyes started to close once again.

Standing carefully, I walked over to the side of the bed, and sat down beside her.

She smiled at me, but didn’t open her eyes.

Leaning down, I gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, and then rested there for a moment, breathing in her scent.

She smelled like her original citrus smell. A combination of the shampoo she used, and whatever products she
gunked her hair up with that morning.

That, to me, smelled like home.

I’d found a home with Channing. We shared an unbreakable bond, now. One that’d withstood time, distance, heartache, heartbreak, and death. We were each other’s lifeline.

Channing kept me grounded. She made sure I talked through my day. If I ever needed her, she was
t
here. She was irrevocably mine, and I was
irreversibly hers.

She’d given me a precious gift today. One that I could never, ever repay for as long as I lived. I would spend my days trying to bridge that gap but somehow, I knew, I could never do anything to match her gift of life.

She was everything to me. Everything I never knew I wanted. The keys to my cuffs. The balm for my tortured soul.

She’s the reason I’m stronger today than I was yesterday, but she’s also my weakness.

She had the power to bring me to my knees, and I like it that way.

If at first you don’t succeed, give the jar to your husband and save yourself the time.

-Life Lesson

Three years later

“Loki!” I snapped. “I told you not to call them hose monkeys in front of the kids anymore. Do you realize how embarrassing it is to have them say that when they see a firefighter?”

Loki’s grin showed just how unrepentant he really was.

Our kids were at a very impressionable age.

Justice was three, and our baby girl, Glory, was just shy of eighteen months old.

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” he drawled as we walked up to the neighborhood block party.

The block party was something the community liked to do around Halloween each year. The downtown roads would be blocked off, and there would be live entertainment as well as arts and crafts for the children.

The fire department would get their ladder truck out and give bucket rides for the kids, while the police department would hand out badges. Trance was due to put on a demonstration with Kosher, his K-9 partner, within the next ten minutes.

“We have to hurry or we’re going to miss Trance’s demonstration,” I insisted urgently.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough of Trance’s demonstrations? I mean, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve ever seen what Kosher can do.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be in uniform. I’ll get to see his butt in those uniform pants,” I quipped.

“Yeah,” Viddy agreed. “His butt does look pretty damn good in them.

Loki growled low under his breath.

“What was that, honey?” I teased him.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Cabe’s
voice boomed over the loud speaker. “Gather around. The Benton Police Department’s K-9 unit has a special show for you tonight.”

“Hey,” I said when Loki started to break away from us. “Where’re you going?”

“I’m part of the demonstration,” he grunted out before turning around and leaving.

“Temper, temper,” Viddy joked as we watched him hustle away.

“He’s been busy at work, and I’ve been busy with work and the kids. He feels neglected and doesn’t like when I talk about other men’s asses,” I explained with a grin.

Viddy’s smile was brilliant. “But what a fine ass it is to check out!” Viddy agreed.

I rolled my eyes. “So, I hear Trance finally got a cover up on his tattoo this past weekend.”

Viddy giggled. “Yeah, he did. I told him it was time.”

Three years ago, Trance and Loki had gotten drunk at Loki’s bachelor party, and came home with tattoos.

Loki’s had said, ‘Orgasm Donor’ on his abdomen, near the waistline of his jeans. Trance’s had been worse. His had said, ‘Fuck
the police’ on his left forearm. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but with them both being upstanding police officers, it wasn’t a good idea to be sporting that kind of ink, whether you could see it or not.

“What’d he cover it with?” I asked as I pushed the double stroller carrying both of my children to the bleachers they’d set up.

Justice and Glory were both sleeping, which was to be expected for half past noon. This was their naptime, and normally they were at home and asleep at this time.

“It’s an anchor with some detail work. There wasn’t much you could do to cover up such bold black lines. He’s happy with the end product, though. The Chief told him he had to cover it, or he couldn’t wear his short sleeved uniform shirt ever again. Regardless of whether he had the sleeve covering it or not,” she sighed as she pushed her own stroller up against the bleachers and took a seat.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

A year ago, Loki had gotten into a scuffle while he was questioning a suspect, and his shirt had ridden up, exposing his belly for all to see. The ten or fifteen iPhones readily available got plenty of good pictures of the orgasm donor, and he’d gotten a good talking to by the chief.

The next day, he’d started the deep black curling lines of the Samoan tattoo that he’d wanted for years.

It’d taken over five visits to finish, but the end product was exceptional. And sexy as hell.

“Wow,” Viddy said with wide eyes. “I didn’t realize he was going to have a human target for this demonstration.”

My eyes turned to the man walking out onto the field, and I knew, with a sudden pounding of my heart, that it was Loki in that padded suit.

“I’m going to kill him,” I growled and stood up.

Viddy grasped my hand tightly. “It’s too late. He’s already started,” she gestured with her fingers.

“Well Kosher better hope he finishes the job, because if he doesn’t, I will.”

Then I watched as my husband was attacked by a deadly trained police dog.

Repeatedly.

“Do you want to go eat at Tele’s?” I asked as I strapped Justice into his car seat.

Loki started shaking his head adamantly. “No, I arrested someone there last week.”

I sighed.

That was a standard answer for him, sadly.

“Okay; well then, where?” I questioned as I closed the back door to the truck.

He waited to answer until I was seated next to him.