by Debra Kayn
Stassi's eyes widened, understanding the importance of the situation and not questioning him. "Where's Chief?"
"Inside with your mom. I'll let them know you're at the house. Now, go." He walked back to the front door of the clubhouse, jumping out of the way of the men carrying opened presents out to his truck.
Finding Ashley inside, he took her away from the group of women talking to her. "Let's go."
"Okay," she said, through tight lips.
He looked down at her as he walked. "You all right?"
"I'm fine, but I think I'm having contractions."
"Now?"
"Can you blame our daughter? You Stanton's get any whiff of trouble and are ready to bulldoze your way forward." She stopped walking and bent over, panting on a hiss. "I think we need to go to the hospital."
He looked at his son, his woman, and around at the crowd running in all directions trying to get the clubhouse clean. They'd been through what would happen if she went into labor, but he'd expected her to wake him up in the middle of the night or announce it first thing one morning over breakfast.
Ashley straightened. "Put Trik in the pickup. Find Sydney and have her follow us. She can take our son to her house. Oh, and find Lindsay. I want her with me at the hospital."
"Jesus," he muttered, grabbing Ashley's arm and helping her to the truck.
He then put Trik in his car seat and buckled him up. "Watch your mommy."
Halfway to the clubhouse to tell everyone what was happening and get help, Ashley called his name. He turned around.
Ashley said, "Tell Johanna, too."
He raised his arm that he'd heard and pushed through the door. Spotting Chief, he told his father the baby was coming and to tell Johanna. Then, he found Lindsay and had her run out to the truck to get ready to go with them to the hospital.
In the daycare room, he found Sydney and Kylie, who were getting the kids ready for pickup. Sydney agreed to go to the hospital as soon as the children were back with their parents.
Sweat rolled down his forehead, and he swiped his hand over his face. Sweet Jesus, Ash was having his baby.
He broke out in a jog, pushed through the door of the clubhouse and found half the Brikken men attending his woman.
"Get the fuck away from her." He pushed through the bodies and found Ashley leaning against the side of the truck, holding her belly. Panic seared through him at the sight of her eyes scrunched tight and her jaw tight.
He grabbed on to her, taking her weight as she leaned her head against his stomach.
She groaned loudly. "The baby." She held her breath, her face turning bright red. "Is coming."
"I'll get you in the truck and—"
Her hand shot out, squeezing his thigh. "Now," she said, finishing on a groan.
"Now?" He looked around at the others watching. "You said this takes hours."
"Not with your kids." She panted. "I need an ambulance."
"Now?"
"Olin, I swear on your life. Th-this baby is coming out. Now," she screamed the word.
Fuck. If he called the ambulance, the cops would come. If the cops come, the Feds will move in faster, and everyone in Brikken would go down, including Ashley.
"God damnit. Get Chief," he ordered to the crowd. "Someone get some blankets."
"Where are you going to put her?" D-Con stepped away from the crowd. "Your kid is looking and worried."
He looked behind him at Trik. "It's okay, son."
His boy's tear-stained face broke into an all-out wail of outrage at being belted into his car seat when he wanted his mommy. Olin pointed at Shore to spread the blankets out in the field in front of the truck, out of view of their son.
"It's going to be okay, Ash." He picked her up. "We've got this."
Ashley groaned, her body tensing in his arms. "I can't stop. The baby's head is..." She groaned in pain.
"Fuck," he bellowed. "Does anyone know how to deliver a kid?"
The crowd never answered. Olin laid her down on her back and peeled her stretchy leggings down her body, noticing them soaked between the legs.
Ashley's head came off the ground, and she strained, growling with the forte of trying to deliver their daughter. He crawled to her head and slipped his arm under her neck, wanting to lend her his strength.
"What do you want me to do?" He kissed her forehead. "Jesus, Ash."
She grabbed his vest. "I can feel her."
He leaned down and looked between Ashley's legs. A tuff of black hair filled the entrance. His head pounded. He knew nothing about delivering a baby.
He turned his head and yelled, "Out of three hundred and fifty fucking members, not one of you is banging a nurse?"
Ashley needed someone who could deliver the baby because their daughter was fucking here.
She convulsed in pain, her shoulders rising as her knees feel to the sides. Caught between looking at her and his baby's head making an entrance into the world, he crawled between Ashley's legs out of pure instinct and caught his daughter as her shoulders came through.
Ashley's head fell back on the blanket. "Pull her out," she whispered, panting.
Chief appeared beside him with Johanna. Olin picked up the baby as his daughter's legs slipped out of Ashley's body. He held the baby to his chest, staring at Ashley.
Johanna put a blanket over Ashley's lower half. "Chief go get a clean string and a clean knife, so Olin can cut the cord. Somebody get Trik out of the truck and take him to Sydney. Don't let him see what's going on."
Olin's head came up. "No. I want my son off Brikken property."
Sydney ran up to the truck. "I'm here. I'll take him home now."
"Ash, we need to get you in the truck and to the hospital." He looked around the crowd, connecting with Thorn. "Brother, you need to lift Ashley."
Thorn moved forward. Olin looked down at his daughter, her shuddering cries barely heard through the noise of the crowd.
Chief arrived back with a string. "I'll show you how, son."
He put his daughter on the blanket. Chief tied the string and then removed a knife from his pocket. "Do it."
"Here?" He held up the cord, got a second opinion from his father, and cut the cord. "Thorn take Ashley, blanket and all." He wrapped his daughter in another blanket and passed her to Lindsay who hovered by Ashley. "Keep her warm and get in the truck."
Jett ordered the gate to be opened. Brikken members ran for their motorcycles. Olin slid into the driver's seat of the truck and caught a glance of Sydney's car leaving the premises with his son. He looked in the backseat of the crew cab at Ashley. Her eyes half closed, she smiled tiredly at him.
"I thought I had only a backache during the baby shower," she said softly. "I didn't know."
"You picked a fine time to have our daughter." He started the engine as soon as Lindsay was in the truck.
Jett appeared in the open window. "Keep your head. The baby is already here. There's no reason to race off and put everyone in danger. Get them to the hospital safely."
Olin looked down at his hands, covered in blood and swallowed. Jesus Christ, he'd just delivered his daughter.
At the front of the truck, Chief lifted his chin and raised his hand. Olin pulled out of the field and drove through the gate. On the road, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Ashley's eyes closed in exhaustion. He looked at Lindsay holding his daughter. Then, he gazed at the Brikken members escorting his family to the hospital.
"Ash?" he said, gripping tightly to the steering wheel.
"Yeah?"
"No more kids. That's enough." He couldn't take Ashley going through the pain of having any more. Their family was perfect. One of each.
"Love you, Olin," she said exhaling loudly.
"Love you, too." Emotions clogged his throat, and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. By the time he arrived at the hospital and handed her and the baby over to the doctors, he knew everyone would be fine.
Ashley refused to let go of his hand. He held on tight
, refusing to let her go.
Her lips moved, and he bent down and kissed her forehead. She whispered, "I can't believe I had our daughter in the field with all those damn dandelions around me."
Another Stanton who would live, breath, and love on Brikken land. He kissed her again and whispered, "It doesn't surprise me, one bit, Ash."
Dear Readers —
As you unwrap yourself from Olin and Ashley's story and remember it is fiction, there are some real-life details that I'd like to share with you.
There are only nine states in the U.S. that have a "Living Unit" program offered to pregnant inmates. While I didn't bring attention to it in OLIN, for the sake of the storyline, inmates must apply for the program and be evaluated for acceptance. Many females do not get accepted, and their baby is taken away anywhere from immediately to 48 hours. Those inmates that choose to keep their baby with them claim the program saved their life and gave them a chance to bond with their child.
As the author, I took artistic license and gave readers a romantic saga on a deep and very controversial subject in the hopes they wouldn't judge Ashley for her choices but would lose themselves in the story.
Looking forward...
Thorn will have the next novel in the A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga series. Stay ready, because the wait won't be long.
If you'd like to keep up on book releases and chat with me, I would love to have you like my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/DebraKaynFanPage.
Love,
Debra
Author Bio
Debra Kayn is published by Grand Central Publishing, Simon & Schuster Publishing, Carina Press - Harlequin Enterprises Limited, and repped by agent, Stephany Evans of FinePrint Literary Management. She has over fifty contemporary novels available worldwide where heroes and heroines come from the most unlikely characters.
She lives with her family in the Bitterroot Mountains of beautiful North Idaho where she enjoys the outdoors, the four seasons, and small-town living.
Website: www.debrakayn.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/DebraKayn
Facebook: www.facebook.com/DebraKaynFanPage
Debra Kayn's Backlist
A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga series
Chief
Jett
Olin
Thorn – coming soon
Notus Motorcycle Club series
Hard Reality
Hard Mistake
Hard Drifter
Hard Escape
Hard Proof
The Higher You Fly
Ronacks Motorcycle Club series
...or something
Don't Say It
Rather Be Wrong
Can't Stop Fate
Red Light: Silver Girls series
Blow Softly
Touch Slowly
Fall Gently
Moroad Motorcycle Club series
Wrapped Around Him
For Life
His Crime
Time Owed
Falling For Crazy
Chasing Down Changes
Bantorus Motorcycle Club series
Breathing His Air
Aching To Exhale
Soothing His Madness
Grasping for Freedom
Fighting To Ride
Struggling For Justice
Starving For Vengeance
Living A Beautiful War
Melt My Heart - Anthology
Laying Down His Colors – Bantorus Motorcycle Club
A Hard Body Novel series
Archer
Weston
The Chromes and Wheels Gang series
Biker Babe in Black
Ride Free
Healing Trace
Playing For Hearts series
Wildly
Seductively
Conveniently
Secretly
Surprisingly
Modern Love – Anthology
The Sisters of McDougal Ranch series
Chantilly's Cowboy
Val's Rancher
Margot's Lawman
Florentine's Hero
Suite Cowboy
Hijinks
Resurrecting Charlie's Girl
Betraying the Prince
Love Rescued Me
Double Agent
Breaking Fire Code
Sneak Peek
***
Wrapped Around Him
Moroad Motorcycle Club series, book 1
Chapter One
In the shade of the blue tarp pitched off the side of an old travel trailer, sixteen-year-old Jeremy Aldridge sat in a woven, plastic chair oblivious to everything around him. Christina Nickelson noted the boy's solemn expression, one that he always wore, the new scratch along his arm, and the lack of parental supervision—that wasn't required twenty-four/seven for a boy his age.
As Jeremy's former social worker, she wanted to find a reason to bring her suspicions of abuse or neglect to the judge. Her head pounded from the heat of the sun filling her car. Nobody could convince her that Cam Farrell was a good father.
Unaware of her staked out on the road, Jeremy flipped through a magazine, his ankles crossed and propped atop a metal beer keg. An ache settled behind Christina's eyes, and she rubbed her temple. Officially, she'd closed Jeremy's case when full custody went to his birth father.
She glanced down at last year's photo of Jeremy clipped to her file. She swallowed the lump of emotions choking her. He held himself stoic from life's harsh realities, never letting anyone else view the hardships he'd endured in his short life. Maybe that's why she couldn't let Jeremy's case go. She understood his need to hide his feelings from everyone.
She lived with her own loss, loneliness, and fear. The first couple of years after she'd lost both her parents to murder were a blur. The anger, the hurt, the need to understand why life decided to play a cruel trick on her soon showed up and never left.
So far, Jeremy's young life was even worse.
His mom passed away of a drug overdose three months ago. Christina ran her thumb along the edge of the binder and lifted her gaze back to the teenager. His mother's death wasn't the first time she'd met Jeremy. She'd followed his life for the last four years when the school contacted her about unusual bruising.
It wasn't until Jeremy's father stepped up after being an absent father the child's whole life and brought the teenager to live with him that she became even more concerned. She slid the file under the driver's seat of her car. Something about the arrangement didn't feel right, and it wasn't the threat she'd received from Jeremy's dad to stay away from his son or the knife he'd put to her throat, threatening to kill her if she stepped foot on his property again.
When she'd collected herself from that horrifying experience, she'd witnessed Jeremy's wide-eyed shock at the violence by a father he'd never met before that day. She stared out the front window of her car. That reaction from Jeremy held more emotion than she'd ever seen him shed in front of someone before.
She knew that paralyzing fear intimately, until the most unlikely person taught her not to be afraid. If she hadn't reached out and received help, she'd still be stuck in the hell she'd found herself in. The least she could do was unofficially keep an eye on Jeremy and pay the help she'd received forward to someone else.
A deep, haunting rumble drew her attention away from Jeremy. She studied the dust cloud rising in her rearview mirror and turned the keys in the ignition of her late model Honda sedan. The approaching visitor could only be going to one house and though she was not on private property, she wasn't comfortable being caught watching Jeremy.
She put the car in reverse and backed off into the patch of weeds at the side of the road. Heart racing, she shifted into first gear when a motorcycle rider stopped right in front of her, blocking her exit.
The biker's dark gaze caught hers through the windshield. Her stomach pitched, recognizing Mr. Farrell. She gripped the steering wheel with all her strength. He'd warned her not to come back.
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Even from twenty feet away, she could feel the contempt rolling off him. She pressed her back into the car's seat. At six foot four, he towered over her by almost a foot. She couldn't guess how much he weighed, but it was a lot. His chest and arms strained against his ragged jean vest. His size alone warned her not to underestimate him.
She glanced to her right, to her left, and turned her head and peered out the back window. If she tried to drive around him, she'd go in the ditch or hit a tree.
A low roar broke through her fright and another dust cloud rose up in the road, growing in intensity. Her hope that others were coming to help her crashed into the pit of her stomach when she caught sight of more motorcycle riders. As the president of Moroad Motorcycle Club, Mr. Farrell had backup. They weren't here to help her.
Without giving anything away, she reached over, rolled up the driver's side window, and hit the lock button on the door. Her whole body shook with the need to flee. The added security only reinstated the danger of being here.
Glass windows would not stop a man who had already held a knife to her throat.
Two bikers stopped beside Mr. Farrell in front of her car. Sweat broke out between her breasts, and she wanted to desperately pull her Tee away from her body and turn the air conditioner on.
She'd purposely stayed on the public road, in case Mr. Farrell spotted her. It was her right to be here. He couldn't hurt her when she was following the law.
She blindly reached over to the passenger seat for her cell and swiped the screen taking the phone out of standby. The moment Mr. Farrell looked away from her; she glanced down and wanted to cry. The Bitterroot Mountains with its many peaks and valleys made getting reception difficult, and she was in a dead zone.
What was she going to do? No one knew her location. She kept to herself, because making friends meant explaining her past to them. Even calling 911 was out of the question. If her boss found out she used her free time to check up on a closed child welfare case, the county would fire her.
Children had a right to move on with their new life, and her work creed demanded that she not become emotionally involved with the kids within her care or the guardians. She'd always followed the rules, until she had to say goodbye to Jeremy and his biker dad threatened her.
