Rage (35 page)

moved toward the restroom, she muttered. “You certainly had no

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RAGE

problem putting it
in
there…”

Cheyenne snickered, and Phillip uttered a long suffering

sigh. On his way out the door, Steph saw him mouth the words

“thank you” to Cheyenne. A simple nod was her only reply.

As Steph returned from the restroom, another contraction

gripped her. She had a stricken look on her face.

“I changed my mind. I can’t do this.” Stephanie’s voice

sounded strident, and during her trip to the restroom she’d been horrified at the enormous bags under her eyes.

Cheyenne nodded and handed her a cup of ice chips. “Now

you know why I only wanted one.”

“You called Cedric and Dad, right?” Steph slowly lowered

herself onto the bed. She hit the call light and made a half-assed attempt to put her baby monitor back around herself.

“Yes. I called everyone on the list. Cedric just called back

and said he got a flight for later this afternoon. Your dad and

Shirley are flying out tomorrow morning.” Steph smiled at that.

Her dad had recently started dating his long time senior editor.

She figured he had decided to seize the day after having a minor heart attack nearly two years before. Though he still owned
The
Sound Wave
, he no longer acted as Editor-In-Chief.

His close call had served as a major wake-up call for Steph

as well. One morning over breakfast in bed, she asked Phillip

when he was going to put that big diamond of Nana’s on her fin-

ger. He nearly fell out of bed as he retrieved it from his closet.

They decided to get married two months later on Inishmore Isle.

Refusing to allow the moment to be turned into a media circus,

they assembled their guests quickly and quietly. Fury and Phillip and Steph’s families—including Phillip’s Uncle Cal—were the

only guests present. The bride wore jeans and an off-white Irish sweater. Cedric presided over the seaside ceremony.

For their honeymoon, they rewarded themselves with over a

solid month in Ireland. They wandered the country—sightseeing

castles, standing stones, and historic homes. Best of all, they

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

spent weeks making love in every room of their cottage and all

over the surrounding grounds.

Stephanie finally told Phillip all there was to say about Jon-

quil. To her relief, he didn’t laugh at her, and he seemed com-

pletely unfazed by her lunacy. In fact, he suggested they plant jonquil bulbs all around the cottage. They did just that, and six weeks later, they discovered that they were just as fertile as the soil around their country home.

When her gynecologist showed them the monitor and they

saw a heartbeat, Phillip lit up with unconcealed joy. He immedi-

ately ran out and bought a several books on the subject and tried to get Stephanie to pick out baby furniture. Steph was terrified.

She started losing weight again and called the OB’s office con-

stantly. They were patient considering her history and allowed

her to have more ultrasounds than were probably necessary. It

wasn’t until the baby was kicking her regularly that reality finally sank in and she had to accept the fact that she was going to be someone’s mother.

Steph smiled as she remembered fighting with Phillip over

baby names. For months he came home testing out different ones

on a nightly basis.

“How’s Alfie today?” He’d ask, and she’d wrinkle her nose

and shake her head. She’d known for a long time it would be

another girl, but didn’t have the heart to screw with his “male

heir” fantasies. He had insisted it was bad luck to know the sex in advance, but had since changed his mind. Now he made a daily routine out of trying to trick her into revealing whether to

paint the nursery pink or blue. She told him to pick yellow or

green. He’d gone with green. Steph remembered with a grin his

gorgeous voice singing along to the stereo as he painted the

nursery with low fume paint.

Another contraction gripped her, and she breathed calmly

through it. It was just subsiding when her nurse hurried in the

door. She rushed over and picked up Steph’s monitor belt.

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RAGE

“You need to leave this on.” she said this with the obvious

exasperation of someone who’d dealt with Steph for some time

now.

“I had to go to the bathroom.” Steph snapped, changing the

t.v. station.

The nurse sighed. “Push the call light and I’ll help you use

the bedpan.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause you were
so
speedy coming in here after I took the monitor off.”

“Do you want me to put a catheter in?” The nurse adjusted

the belt, looked at the monitor above Steph’s head, and frowned.

Steph smiled evilly. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Stephanie Kersey! Pipe the fuck down and let this lady do

her job.” Cheyenne managed a perfect tonal balance of sternness

and amusement.

The nurse left without another word. Steph crunched on ice

chips and flipped through the channels, settling on an episode of The F Word. Moments later the nurse returned with an older

nurse trailing after her. Steph sighed bitchily, expecting a lecture from them both. Instead, they adjusted her belt silently, watching her monitor. They exchanged concerned glances. The younger

nurse printed a strip off her monitor. The older nurse put oxygen tubing in Steph’s nostrils and tightened her blood pressure cuff.

Steph nervously met Cheyenne’s eyes. Cheyenne frowned and

sat forward in her seat.

“Is something wrong?” Cheyenne took the words right out

of Steph’s mouth.

“The doctor will be in soon.” The young nurse blurted as

she ran out the door. The older nurse turned to Steph, who real-

ized she’d begun to tremble.

Steph’s voice shook as she asked “Is my baby okay?”

“We’re seeing what we call “late decels.” We’re paging the

doctor, but we’re going to need to prep you for a C-section.

Now.” The no nonsense expression on the older nurse’s face

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

caused Steph’s heart to race. She turned to Cheyenne.

“Go get Phillip,” her voice cracked. Cheyenne was out the

door before Stephanie finished her sentence.

Phillip greedily scooped another mouthful of Nana’s shep-

herd’s pie into his mouth. Even though she’d been wretched to

him since he’d arrived, he would have felt guilty had Stephanie

not hated this particular dish.

His sisters were offering last minute alternative name sug-

gestions, and Bret and Scot were preparing him for the cone head his child would have, when he saw Cheyenne running toward

him. The look she wore had him immediately on his feet. He

dropped his half-eaten plate on the floor.

“Phillip, they’re doing an emergency c-section. She’s ask-

ing for you.”

He sprinted in the direction of her room, his heart hammer-

ing in his chest. When the doctor met him in the hall outside

Steph’s room, he was sure he’d vomit on him, but he somehow

choked back Nan’s signature dish.

The next few minutes were a blur as he changed into scrubs

and washed his hands about one hundred thousand times. A

nurse tied on his cap and mask, confessing that she was a fan,

and he finally was allowed into the operating room. There were

several gowned and masked people waiting, hands folded, beside

an empty cradle. Stephanie’s face was hidden behind a screen of

sorts, and he could see that they’d had already smeared cleanser all over her belly. The anesthesiologist waved him to the head of the table and a nurse pointed to a stool. Phillip willed himself not to faint as he took a seat beside her.

Steph’s cheeks were tear-stained, and when she saw him,

new tears fell. “Phillip, I’m scared.”

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RAGE

He wheeled forward and pulled down his mask. He kissed

her forehead and stroked her hair. “Me too.”

“Mask up, Mr. Kersey. Rock stars have germs too.” The

nurse scolded him. He scrambled to get it back in place, and

though Steph smirked a bit, the fear never left her eyes.

“Just talk to me. Tell me your names for a girl. I want to

name her
now
.” Her tone was causal now, but he understood the message in her darting eyes. Phillip realized she’d finally let the sex of their baby slip and smiled.

A little girl.

The doctor called for an instrument, and Phillip’s eyes shot

to him. It was obvious he was making an incision, and Phillip

forced his eyes back to Steph’s face. He took a deep breath.

“Girls names are easy, love. Tell me what you had in

mind.”

“I want Moira for her middle name.” She sniffled.

He nodded. “After your Mum. It’s a nice Irish name.” She

smiled. “Let’s pick something Irish for her first name. How

about Katherine?

“Katherine Moira Kersey. We could call her Katie.” Steph

replied, the smile finally reaching her eyes.

Phillip stroked her cheek and clasped her hand in his. “Or

Kat.”

Steph grinned slyly. “Kat it is. She’s sure to have claws

with parents like us.”

When Kat Kersey took her first breath a couple of minutes

later, the hearty sound of her cries made both her parents dis-

solve in happy tears.

“It’s a girl!” The doctor announced theatrically.

“No shit.” Phillip muttered quietly, and Steph snorted.

“She a big one,” the nurse called over as she brought them

their swaddled infant, who was still squawking. “Nine pounds

eleven ounces, twenty-one inches long.”

“She’s going to be an Amazon.” Steph blinked wide-eyed at

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

Phillip. “She got your physique.”

Phillip stood and reached out, taking his child from the

nurse. He stared, mystified into her grumpy, beet-red little face.

Her balled fists and angry cries brought a broad smile to his face.

“Well, she certainly has her mother’s temperament.”

The moment he spoke, Kat stopped crying and opened her

eyes. Though it was impossible to know for sure, he was willing

to bet that they’d be just like his when she was fully grown. Tiny rose-colored hairs jutted out from under her yellow cap, but he

wasn’t sure if her hair was truly red or just blood tinged. His

breath caught as her tiny eyes followed his.

“She’s just so beautiful, love.” He carefully took a seat on

the stool, terrified it would roll away and he would drop her.

“I want to see her.” Steph murmured, and he held Kat out

for her to see.

He moved in close, kissing Steph’s cheek through his mask

as he watched her lock eyes with their daughter. Though alarm-

ingly pale, Steph looked radiant as she turned her eyes to his.

“She’s perfect, Phillip.” Stephanie sighed softly, and Phillip

couldn’t have agreed more.

232

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to the following folks:

Our editor, Carmen Comeaux—thanks for your speed, agili-

ty, and your keen eyes

Michelle Warren (Preast) of IndieBookCovers—We adore

you. Thanks for listening and being so bloody easy to work with.

Julie Titus of JT Formatting—Have we told you lately that

we love you?

Robin Harper of Wicked By Design-meme genius extraor-

dinaire. Thank you for all the promotional assistance for both

Fury and Rage. You are one bad m#ther f*cker.

Our first round beta readers: Les Pace, Stacy Darnell, Tam-

ron Davis, Kara Doerfer, Amy Lane, Donna Sweet and Amanda

Bierman. You sexy angels read this in real time and gave direct

feedback. You are rock stars for reading and re-reading and then reading again once more. Thanks for riding the “Crazy Train”

and thanks even more for not jumping off.

Our second round betas: Laura Wilson, Sarah Griffin,

Vanessa Proehl, Brenda Walt, Melanie Smith, Thanks for re-

reading
Fury
to prepare for
Rage
and being “the cohesion police”. You called us on our bullshit. Believe it or not, we like that.

Our families—for the never ending well spring of patience

it takes to live with a writer in the act of constructing a novel.

And last but never least, a very special thank you to Bret

Horrell—for helping breathe life into
Fury
by allowing us to use 233

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

lyrics from two of your fantastic songs “4U” and “If Only U