Rogue's Retribution - Liberty Parker



“Oh. My. God! Your child is as stubborn as you are!” I scream out in agony from the pains of labor. “She doesn’t want to come into this world, she’s happy right where she is. Can’t we let her stay snuggled there for just a bit longer?” I ask, exhaustion laced thick in my voice to the stand-in doctor currently down between my legs. Conveniently, my doctor happens to be on his bi-monthly vacation getaway. He’s as useless as the grin on his face. “I’m not entirely sure what’s so funny,” I begin before the pain yet again slams over my body like an angry wave crashing to the shore. “Rogue!” I cast my glare to him as I grab him by the stitched leather on his cut. “Do something, please!”

“You’re doing great, Aurora,” the doctor tells me, causing me to shift my gaze back in his direction as I let go of Rogue’s cut. I want to kick my foot up and have it accidentally smash into his face. He calls this great? I’ve been doing this for hours, and I can feel my body beginning to grow tired and slowly fall apart as my eyes begin to grow heavy.

“You’ve got this darlin’,” my old man, Rogue, whispers in my ear for some encouragement, jolting me back to this harsh reality and the excruciating pain I’m in. “You’re the bravest person I know, if anyone can do this, it’s you. You aren’t now, and never have been, a quitter. Don’t give up on our baby, bring her into the world. Together, we’ve got this.”

“We? I don’t see you pushing this kid into the world, now do I? And after this one? Oh, you can bet your sweet ass you’ll never fucking hold my hand without wearing a condom!” I holler out at him as another contraction hits me. I notice him out of my peripheral scoot a few inches away and my heart sinks. Christ, who the fuck am I? I grab his hand and squeeze with what energy I have left. “I-I didn’t mean it. Don’t go anywhere.” Suddenly, I’m struck with the ferocity of such pain that I instinctively throw myself forward and have a desperate need to push. “Never. Mind. You. Fucking. Ass!” I grunt and grind out each word as I yank my hand away from his.

“Baby’s crowning,” the doctor states calmly. “Just a few more pushes, Aurora, and we’ll be bringing your baby into this world.” We have no solid proof it’s a girl, I just have this deep-seated feeling that she is in fact a female and have proclaimed that’s how everyone will refer to our child unless I’m proved wrong. Well, I never could get the doctor officially on board unless I agreed to let him disclose the gender from one of my ultrasounds. As much as I know I’m having a daughter, I refused to let any machine challenge me. I’m right, and I will prove it when she’s safe in my arms.

As always, my old man does everything he can to give me my way and has abided by my wishes. We even have a name picked out for her, it’s beautiful and sassy, just as I know she will be with all the rough and gruff uncles she’ll grow up with. Not to mention my husband, my old man, the love of my life who is also the president of the Twisted Iron Motorcycle Club. He’s not an easy man to love, but he’s mine, and I’ve learned how to deal with his mannerisms or sometimes lack thereof. He has mood swings to rival any woman in the throes of Mother Nature, and apparently labor doesn't faze him in the least.

“Come on, Rora, just a few more pushes,” he attempts to console me. I really wish everyone would stop saying that to me, since I’m the one in pain and having to do all of the heavy lifting, or pushing in this case.

“Bite your tongue, Rogue!” Clamping his lips firmly closed, he obliges my command, lifting me up to get me prepared for another push.

“Now, Aurora, give me one huge push. Bear down. That’s it, I see the baby’s head!” This gives me the motivation I need to finish this once and for all. I push several more times, not really hearing the conversation going on around me as I concentrate on my body, and what it’s telling me I need to do. I hear, “The shoulders are out.” The