Love and Chaos

by S. M. Soto

  He chokes beneath the weight of my palm. His hands futilely try to pry off my hold on him, but it’s no use. I squeeze just a little tighter for kicks, enjoying the way his eyes bulge. These bastards are doing everything they can to make me look beyond guilty and pin everything on me. They’re doing everything they can to take me away from Sophia and my family. The birth of my son.

  Not fucking happening.

  I realize he’s on the verge of passing out and toss him aside, letting go of him before I end up snapping his neck in my haze of anger. He flies off the bed and curls on the floor, choking and sobbing, trying to catch his breath. Slowly, I close the distance between us and drop down to a squat in front of him. Sliding my hand into my suit pocket, I slip the knife out.

  As quick as his next breath, I hold the knife against his cheek, digging in just enough to nick him, but not enough to raise any questions. The nick of blood can easily be mistaken as a cut from shaving. I hear his sharp intake of breath. He looks up at me with those beady brown eyes, and I can practically smell his fucking fear.

  “Listen, Scott. You’re going to fix this. Get rid of that fucking file and everything you have on me.”

  He nods his head vigorously. “Y-yes. Okay-y. I can get rid of the file, but he won’t stop. He’ll just bring someone else on the case.”

  Anger surges through my veins.

  “Who?” I growl. He sputters, shaking his head, too afraid to speak. I dig the knife deeper, getting into his face. “I can make you disappear. It won’t be hard. You have no one. No family. No life. Nothing. And I promise you, if I have to come find you again, your death won’t be easy. It will be drawn out and bloody. Now,” I grip his throat again in a vise. “Who is he?”

  “His name is David Kincaid,” he chokes. “He’s with the bureau. Top agent. For whatever reason, he hates you.” My eyes narrow on him at the information and I squeeze a little harder. “W-what…ar-re…y-you doing-g?” he wheezes.

  “Let this be your last warning, Scott. I don’t want to have to see you again. Understand me? Get rid of it all. I’ll handle Kinkaid.”

  I let go of his throat, taking my knife with me while I’m at it, and push to my full height in one fell swoop. I glare down at Scott’s sorry ass one last time before I stride out of the hotel room. Hell-bent on ruining one man, David Kincaid.

  THE SUN’S RAYS SHINE ALONG my engagement ring, shards of color and fragments of light glint, reflecting back at me and a grin spreads across my face. I’ve been trying to walk more. With only less than two weeks to go until I hit my due date, Dr. Chang advised me to walk randomly throughout the day to help with the fatigue. Said it was good to get some fresh air if I was feeling up to it.

  Things have been going good lately. Almost too good. We haven’t had any more police visits lately which means Creed has been spending more time with me and less out doing Cosa Nostra tasks for the famiglia. With the baby on the way and now being engaged, everything almost feels too perfect. I hate feeling like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Clarence and Monte haven’t been able to find anything on any federal database about Creed or the family. Apparently, whatever Creed did to get those agents to back down worked. For now, at least. I’m still not convinced the threat with the FBI is over. It was almost too easy. I know Creed feels the same way, even if he pretends for my sake, that everything is going to be okay.

  I know this doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods, but right now, I’ll take it. Everything feels so…normal. And I love it. For once I feel like I can breathe, even if it seems like Creed and Matteo are doing the opposite. It’s like the silence is making them more nervous or something. I don’t want to be paranoid. Not with the baby on the way. Dr. Chang has drilled it into my head time and time again. I’ve read enough of the baby books and articles to know it’s true. So, I’m choosing to turn a blind eye to worrying and focus on our safety and my son’s arrival.

  With the baby due to arrive so soon, Alexis finally came back. She made it in last night and I haven’t wanted her to leave my sight since. She talked with her family, took care of her mother and put them all at ease. Even though I know she won’t stay here with us forever, I plan on enjoying her company while it lasts.

  The wedding planning has been in full-force lately with the help of Alexis, Magdalene and the rest of the maids. Kristine found so many amazing venues for the outdoor reception, it was difficult to narrow it down to just one, but we went with the Chicago Botanic garden. The mass will be held at the same church where Matteo and Valentina were married—St. Mary’s of the Angels. After the mass at St. Mary’s, the wedding reception, where we’ll share our vows, will be at the Chicago Botanical garden. There will be two separate locations. One for the vows and another strictly for the outdoor reception. Kristine created a 3D diagram and walkthrough for me and Creed, so we can see how everything would turn out. The archway where we exchange vows will be wrapped with roses. Hanging above the rose wrapped archway will be a suspended floral arrangement of wisteria flowers. The vines and flowers will dangle from the suspended arrangement, hovering over us.

  All in all, even in the 3D version, the venue and decorations look incredible. Even better than I imagined. When I asked for outdoors, with flowers and twinkling lights, Kristine did not disappoint. I’ve spent hours with Magdalene and Creed going through photo albums with Valentina in them. I want to somehow include Creed’s mother and my parents in our wedding even though they’re no longer here anymore.

  Valentina looked gorgeous on her wedding day with Matteo. Her dress was fit for a princess, or in her case, the queen of the mafia. She looked so happy in the photographs. Smiling at Matteo with such love twinkling in her eyes. I couldn’t help but get emotional as I looked through the photos. This was a woman who loved her son and husband with all her heart, but I’d never get to meet her. It’s hard having all these major events but only one parent to share it with and that parent isn’t even on decent terms with his child. I want Matteo and Creed to get along. I want things to be different for the sake of our child. With my parents gone and Creed’s mom gone, establishing a relationship with his father is all I can think about. Though it’s been a non-conversation starter anytime I bring it up.

  I’ve given up on the subject for now. Part of me knows if Creed had it his way, he wouldn’t even be on speaking terms with Matteo. I doubt my constant bringing it up is helping matters either, so I’m dropping it for the time being.

  I walk around the grounds for a little while, just long enough to take the easy way through the hedge maze and travel back through the garden. Earlier, when I first came out for my walk, I set out a blanket, throw pillow, some snacks, and my book out on the bench before I went for a walk. Even from such a small walk, I’m out of breath and my feet are already killing me. Straightening out the blanket and resituating my pillow, I pick up the book I was reading, Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas, and I spread out on the bench, picking back up where I left off.

  I stay like that for a while, flipping through the pages, when suddenly a sharp pain shoots through my stomach. I pause, my face pinching in distress and I shift on the bench, trying to breathe past the unbearable tightness. I try to refocus on the words on the pages, but the pain shoots again, and this time a ragged gasp flies past my lips. My eyes widen, and I try to suck in a lungful of air, but another wave of pain curls through my stomach and I groan.

  “Oh my god,” I breathe.

  Another pang slices through my stomach, and it causes the book to fall from my hands, and I flinch on the bench. I curl in on myself, pressing my head down, between my spread legs, letting out a wail of pain. I try to push to my feet to head inside and call for help, but as soon as I do, my stomach tightens and I fold in on myself, splaying my hands out at the nearest thing to hold me up, they fall in the rose bushes and trees. Thorns prick and cut into my skin and I let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sharp waves tearing through my belly.

  Suddenly the back doors burst open
and Alexis and Magdalene come running out. The backs of my eyes sting with tears from the pain.

  “Sophia!” they both yell in unison.

  I feel their hands on me, arms wrapping around me, trying to hold me up. And my eyes water. This feels different than the last time. The pain is different. It’s stronger. Completely knocking the air out of me. It feels like my entire stomach is being torn in half.

  “It hurts,” I grit out through the pain, and Magdalene presses her hands against my belly, her brows tug down as she checks me out. Her eyes dart to the floor as if she’s searching for something.

  “I think it’s time, míja.”

  My breath catches.

  What? He’s coming?

  “Prieta linda,” she says, addressing Alexis by the nickname she gave her. “Go find Creed, I need help bringing her to the medical room. We need to call Dr. Chang.”

  Alexis runs inside to get help, and I hold onto Magdalene for dear life. I shake my head through the pain, tears slipping down my cheeks as another sharp wave sucks the breath from my lungs.

  “It’s too soon. We still have two weeks left. It’s too soon.”

  “He’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. He comes when he’s ready.”

  Creed comes barreling through the door with Garrett running after him, both of their eyes wide as saucers. Creed is quick to jump into action. We’ve been over the birthing plan a million times, though ours might be different than everyone else’s. We don’t have to worry about getting a bag together or driving to a hospital. We have everything we need here at the estate. Top class doctors. State of the art equipment. We have everything we need here, but it doesn’t make it any less frightening.

  Creed is at my side within seconds, taking my hand and using his body to hold me upright and guide me so I don’t have to walk. I fall into his warmth immediately. Trying to seek comfort in him through the unbearable waves rolling through my stomach.

  “You alright, Soph?” My brother breathes out in a worried voice. “Are you in pain? What do you need? Is he coming right now or is this just a false alarm?” he keeps firing off question after question and another wave of pain ripples through my stomach at the same time. I let out a feral growl.

  “Stop asking so many questions and help me!” I yell.

  He rakes a nervous hand through his hair and jumps into action, helping Creed guide me back inside. It takes much longer than it should to reach the medical room. The contractions keep coming faster now, completely taking my breath away. By the time Creed finally lifts me onto the bed, I’m panting and sweat is breaking out across my brow.

  “Dr. Chang is on his way,” Creed says quietly, taking my hand in his. He lets me squeeze through the contractions and rubs a cool washcloth over my forehead, trying to calm me down.

  He stays like that while lightly massaging my stomach through the contractions, talking to me about his mother, about our future, anything to keep my mind off the pain.

  I was meeting our little boy today. I needed to stay strong. I could do this. I knew I could.

  I practice the breathing techniques I learned from Dr. Chang the last time he was here to do a checkup. I follow his instructions, trying to breathe through the pain and ignore the curling sensations in my belly. I feel Creed’s hand stroking through my hair, and I lift my gaze up to his. Even now, looking as much of a mess as I do, he’s still staring at me with so much love in his eyes. It has emotion clawing at my throat.

  “I love you,” he says, for my ears only and I smile, but it doesn’t last long, another wave of pain slams into me.

  I fight it off for as long as I can. As it mostly comes in waves. But after a while, I start to feel light headed and the pain is so bad I feel like I’m going to vomit.

  “Soph?” Creed asks, alarm tinging his voice. “Baby, you okay?”

  I open my mouth to tell him I don’t feel right, that something feels wrong, but nothing comes out, it’s as if something is squeezing my vocal cords, keeping me from saying a word. I clasp onto his hand, but my fingers keep slipping. They’re clammy and I’m losing strength, unable to hold on.

  “Sophia!” Creed yells more forcefully, his hand tapping my cheek. I realize my eyes are fluttering, that dark tunnel stealing over my vision.

  “What’s happening?” I hear someone yell. “Why the fuck is she so pale?”

  “Goddamnit, Sophia!” Creed yells again. “Answer me!”

  Why won’t my lips move?

  And why can’t I answer him?

  I don’t know how much time goes by, I can hear their panicked voices, feel hands on me, but I can’t process any of it, all I can seem to process is the pain. It collapses on my chest, suffocating me. It makes my head feel like I’m going to explode. It feels like my body, and my stomach are being ripped to shreds with a chainsaw all while the room is spinning. I feel comforting hands running through my hair and my tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.

  “Just hang on, Angel. I know it hurts but hang on just a little longer,” Creed breathes into my hair, and I try to grasp onto him and his voice, but I can’t. It hurts so much. Why did it have to hurt so much?

  Another shooting pain in my stomach causes me to let out a scream that rattles the walls around us.

  “C’mon, baby,” Creed urges. “You can do this. I need you to hang on, Sophia. Can you do that? Please hang on, my beautiful girl. I can’t lose you.”

  A wave of pain that’s so strong barrels into me, completely knocking the air out of me. Another blood curling scream rips past my lips from the pain just before my vision goes black. I feel Creed’s hand tighten around mine and I smell him, almost like he’s hovering in front of me. I focus on that, honing in on his scent.

  “You’re going to be fine, Angel,” he whispers, and something slips over my face at the same time I feel a prick in my arm. I can’t tell what’s in my arm or on my face. But I can feel it near my nose and mouth. It makes it sweaty but cool at the same time. Like cool air being fogged in a cup. I can’t for the life of me figure out what the fuck is happening and what that is on my face.

  “There we go.”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief when I hear Dr. Chang’s voice. “It’s just an oxygen mask. This will help regulate her breathing and give more oxygen to the baby to avoid fetal distress. Both of their heart rates are already returning to normal. I’m keeping an eye on her. AFE is very rare, but it’s deadly for both a mother and fetus. I have her on the ventilator just to make sure they’re both getting enough oxygen. They’re both stable, as long as the fluid doesn’t leak any further, the symptoms won’t progress. My main goal is keeping it out of her bloodstream. She’s lucky we caught it in time.”

  What’s AFE?

  Dr. Chang and everyone else’s voices start to fade, and I drift off into sleep.

  “Sophia?”

  My brows pull down as I stare at her, her face an ungodly shade of white. She’s soaked with sweat, her hair now matted to her head. Her eyes start to flutter, like she’s fighting to keep them open.

  “Ben, get in here now!” I yell out, panic seizing my chest.

  I pat Sophia’s face, trying to get her to open her eyes and focus. I may not be well versed in child labor, but I know this shit isn’t normal.

  I hear three pairs of pounding footsteps, one pair belonging to Dr. Chang and his assistant, the other to Garrett. His face falls when he looks at his sister. Dr. Chang asks me to step back, giving him room. His assistant and Magdalene crowd Sophia, each with a different task. One checks her vitals, pressing his hands to her neck. The other runs around the hospital bed checking both the monitors for Sophia and the baby.

  “What’s happening? What the hell is wrong with my sister?”

  “I need everyone out, Mr. Sabella.”

  “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”

  “If I work now, she might be. Now move!” Dr. Chang growls.

  I watch from the corner of the room, refusing to leave. Sticking to the sha
dows as they run around, attaching more wires, doing more work. I listen to their snippets of conversations and details. The words amniotic fluid and avoiding her bloodstream sticking out. I’m sure Garrett, Alexis, and the rest of the guys are waiting outside, wondering what the fuck is happening.

  It takes longer than it should for her condition—whatever the fuck it is—to be stable. My quiet waiting in the shadows has long turned into pacing until finally Dr. Chang and his assistant don’t sound so panicked. They check the monitors again, fiddle with her IV and take a blood sample.

  I rake a frustrated hand through my hair for the hundredth time today as I watch them poke and prod her.

  After everyone I’ve gotten rid of to protect her, after all the safety precautions we took, this is what could take her from me? A rare, freak diagnosis where there’s a tear in the sack holding our son and amniotic fluid leaks? It was a nightmare. An absolute fucking nightmare.

  I’ve never had a bigger scare. That deep pit in my stomach? The pounding of my heart? That helplessness swimming through my veins? All of it intensified by one hundred as I stood there watching them work on her, trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. Sure, we’ve been through hell and back, but this was different. This wasn’t someone trying to take her from me. Someone I could punish and kill for threatening the life of my girl. This was just some fucked up bullshit Dr. Chang couldn’t even explain. Which was why it’s so rare. He said he’d only dealt with AFE a handful of times, and even though he’s never lost a patient, he said it was still worrisome each time he encountered it. There was no way around it.

  I pause my pacing when Dr. Chang approaches. “She’s in the clear for now, but we’re keeping a very close eye on her. The quicker we move to get the fetus and placenta out of her, the better. We’re moving forward with an emergency C-Section. Go wash up there, my assistant has a gown for you to wear over your clothes. We’re prepping her now. We need to move quickly now that we’ve caught it early.”