Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  “Can I just ask one question?” My mind still spun with questions and concern for the apparent danger. “What the fuck is veeback?”

  Alyssa shook her head and gave a throaty laugh. “Vaginal Birth After Caesarean. It means trying to have a baby naturally even though I had a C-section last time.”

  I stared at her. I was seriously in over my fucking head with this shit. Worries and thoughts of Alyssa breastfeeding—and pumping her breast milk—of her having to choose between squeezing a child out of her pussy or having surgery, and of what we would do once the baby was born all spun around and around in my head and I started to feel a little light-headed.

  “It’s too late to back out now, isn’t it?” I asked as I climbed to my feet. The walls were closing in on me and I had to escape. My breath grew shorter and shorter and I couldn’t get the oxygen I needed. Holy fuck.

  My eyes rolled up and a bitter, metallic sensation burned the back of my tongue. A second later, Alyssa’s hands clasped my cheeks. “Five things you can see.”

  I blinked as I tried to work out what her words meant. My lungs were still three sizes too small, my heart at least two too big.

  “Five things, Dec,” she repeated. Realisation dawned that she was trying to get me to do a grounding exercise that Dr Henrikson had taught us.

  “You. The chair. You. The desk. You.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, no doubt recalling my statement in that session; I didn’t need grounding tools. I just needed her.

  “Do you want the four things I can touch?” I asked as my lips twisted into a grin.

  Her lips slid into a knowing smile. “No, because I’m sure they’re not appropriate to discuss in front of our doctor.”

  “She’s a specialist in at least one of them,” I whispered into Alyssa’s ear.

  She chuckled as she playfully smacked my chest. “And you won’t be touching any of them if you don’t sit back in that chair.”

  “Mmm, as if you could resist me, Mrs Insatiable.” Her hormone-induced sex-craziness had died down a little—thankfully at a point before she’d killed my cock from overuse—but she was still almost always ready for some fun. Instead of waiting for a reply, I found my way back to the chair.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to the doctor. “I just got a little overwhelmed for a moment there.”

  “There isn’t much I haven’t seen in this office.” The humour in her tone proved the truth in her statement. “A first-time father freaking out is hardly the worst of them.”

  I was going to argue that I wasn’t first time—I had a daughter at home after all—but then stopped because she was right. At least in the respect of going through pregnancy, birth, and babies, I was as wet behind the ears as anyone.

  “If you’d been through this before, you’d have known the risks involved in every pregnancy,” the doctor added, answering the question I didn’t ask.

  She offered Alyssa a sympathetic look, no doubt thinking that she was a young mother having two pregnancies to two different fathers. The selfish part of me wanted to leave the assumption alone because it meant I didn’t have to admit how badly I’d fucked up.

  “I was, uh, absent during our first pregnancy,” I admitted. “A mistake I don’t intend to make twice.”

  Alyssa clasped my hand and intertwined her fingers with mine. The rest of the appointment went smoothly and before long, Alyssa had been given a list of instructions and an idea of her schedule for going back into the antenatal clinic. I was determined to go to as many appointments as I could—and not pass out like a fucking pansy at a single one.

  CHAPTER SEVEN: RUSH RUSH

  THE END OF March and all through April was nothing short of madness.

  I missed every one of Alyssa’s appointments because I was overseas or interstate. The race schedule would have been intense enough without having to worry about keeping the team ticking over on top of it all. I was just thankful we’d kept Paige on to handle the bulk of it. I probably could have muddled through, but her advice turned out to be pretty invaluable most of the time.

  It seemed every time I stopped, Alyssa’s stomach had swollen another couple of inches. I hated that I was missing it all, but if I stopped and jumped off the crazy train, Emmanuel Racing could fail. As it was, because of my distraction every time I hit the track, I’d had one DNF in the eight races, and was coming third in the championship. Still, our times and positions were respectable enough to keep the sponsors happy. I just had to keep it up, even though there were some days I was just about ready to fall in a heap.

  The one thing that kept me going without too many complaints was the knowledge that Alyssa’s days were almost as busy as mine, and she had the added pressure of growing a human inside her—so really I had no fucking right to complain about anything.

  One Friday in the middle of April, I stood in our kitchen and watched as Phoebe shovelled down her Weet-Bix and Alyssa packed everyone’s lunches. Even though the Easter long weekend was coming at the end of April, that wouldn’t give us a chance to ease the strain because that signalled the start of the school holidays, which meant we needed someone home constantly to watch Phoebe, and there was a race in Perth the following weekend so I’d be up to my eyeballs with work.

  Phoebe finished her breakfast and raced to the sink with her dirty bowl. Alyssa twisted around and grabbed Phoebe’s bag to put her lunch box inside. It was a familiar dance to us now, one we’d been performing every morning. Some mornings it was a quickstep, other times a slower waltz, but always leading to the moment we split into three different directions. What I wouldn’t give for just a couple of days for the three of us to spend some time together before it got even crazier with a new baby in the mix.

  “Stop,” I said, wishing I could pause the world for a while.

  “What?” Alyssa asked as she shoved my insulated lunch bag into my hand.

  “Stop,” I said a little louder. “Let’s just get away.”

  She paused in front of me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s just take the day off and get away. Like we did before I went back to work. Just the three of us.”

  “We can’t, we’ve got—”

  “Nothing on that can’t wait one more day. I need this, Lys. I need you, and I need Phoebe, and I need to just get away,” I pleaded. “Let’s go for a drive out to Mount Tamborine for a picnic.”

  “I don’t—”

  Moving closer to her, I traced her cheek with my fingertips. “Give me one reason.”

  “Phoebe’s got school.”

  I lifted my brow at her. “She’s in prep. It’s not exactly going to impact on her choice of university is it?”

  “I guess not.”

  “C’mon,” I said, dragging her closer to me. “Just one day without the team, or school, or anything else. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Pheebs?” I glanced around Alyssa to where Phoebe was standing listening to us.

  Phoebe nodded. “Can we go to a playground?”

  “We’ll find the best playground there is.”

  She gave an excited giggle.

  “But only if Mummy agrees to have the day off.”

  “Please, Mummy?” Phoebe said, dancing around Alyssa’s legs.

  “You’re playing dirty,” Alyssa muttered in my ear.

  “I’ll play as dirty as I need for the chance for some time alone with my girls.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me and offered me a sly smile. “You’re calling the school and telling them that she’s not coming in.”

  “Deal. But who’ll call in for me,” I joked. I wondered if she was remembering high school like I was. Back then, we used to wag somewhat regularly and she’d never complained about the way we’d spent the day. Of course, we didn’t have a car or the funds to go where we wanted then.

  “Uh-uh,” Alyssa said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. “If you wanna ditch, you’ve gotta dial.”

  “I’m sure I can be a big boy and do that. I mean
, my boss is pretty fantastic, and I’m sure he won’t have any complaints when I tell him that I need time with you.” I stepped closer to her. “I think he has a crush on you. In fact, I think he wants to fuck you.” I whispered in her ear so Phoebe couldn’t hear.

  She gave my chest a playful shove. “You might work for yourself, but you still have people expecting you in, and you need to let them know you won’t be there. And that I won’t be available either.”

  “Will do. You go get yourself and Phoebe ready for some fun, and I’ll make the calls.”

  I jumped on the phone, first with Mum, then with Emmanuel Racing, and finally with Phoebe’s school. Within an hour, we were on the road for a day of absolutely fucking nothing, and I hadn’t looked forward to anything more in a while. During the course of the day, we settled on a name for the baby: Brock Curtis, the first name after a racing legend and the second after Alyssa’s father.

  APRIL ENDED and May came racing around the corner. A few days before I had to leave home for the Winton race, I had an early morning phone call from a very stunned and sleepy-sounding Morgan.

  “Is this the call?” I asked. I was unable to hide the excitement bubbling in my voice.

  “Yeah, it is,” he said. The more he talked, the more shell-shocked he sounded. “It’s a boy.”

  Alyssa nudged me to find out what he was saying and then grinned when I nodded.

  “Give me a minute; I’ll put you on speaker. Lys wants to talk too.” I set the phone to speaker.

  “Give us all the details,” Alyssa said. “How’s Eden? How’s the baby? Have you picked a name? What was—” She kept rolling off questions until I pressed my finger to her lips.

  “Give the man a chance to answer a couple of those questions before asking more.” I teased but sobered when she narrowed her eyes at me. Although the worst of her hormonal swings had settled sometime around month five, they’d started up again recently as we hit the last month of her pregnancy.

  “He was born three hours ago. His name is Max. He was 3.4 kilos, fifty-one centimetres long, and both mum and bub are doing great.”

  “Is Eden there?” Alyssa asked. “Can I talk to her?”

  “Sorry, Lys, she’s rest—” He cut off with a laugh. “Actually she’s right here.”

  Alyssa grabbed the phone off me. “How’d it all go?” The words left her as she walked away with my phone in her hand. I was certain she needed the reassurance about Eden’s labour. The closer Alyssa’s due date got, the more she panicked. No amount of calming words from me could help. If Eden could help ease her fears, I was happy to let the two of them shoot the shit for as long as they wanted.

  Alyssa’s voice grew quieter as she headed into the kitchen. I left her to it and figured I’d just have to catch up with Morgan at Winton.

  CHAPTER EIGHT: HURRY HOME

  BEFORE I KNEW it, June had arrived and Alyssa’s due date was barrelling closer. Alyssa was more on edge than ever before when she reached the point where Phoebe’s placenta had detached, causing the emergency caesarean for the twins. Still, she was calmer than I expected her to be—and a little fuller than I’d imagined. There was nothing I loved more than to trail my hands over her belly and feel the movements of the life within. It was fucking magical. She was also a little more forgetful and absent-minded than before, but I’d been told that was normal under the circumstances.

  With every day, my excitement grew because I couldn’t wait for Alyssa’s due date so I could meet my newest son.

  Between races at the Winton event, Morgan and I had been able to catch up and he’d shown me 1,001 photos of Max. Every possible angle had been captured at least twice. It was sweet to see the photos at first, but by the end, I was fucking relieved it was over. Of course, I didn’t say that to him. Instead, I just smiled and nodded as my eyes glazed over after the first ten photos. I figured payback would be a bitch once Brock was born.

  Because the Darwin race was on Phoebe’s birthday, we debated having the team skip it, but we were still clinging in the top five of the championship and missing the whole event would sink my chances to nonreturnable depths. Plus, Alyssa’s due date was the same weekend as the Townsville race, and there was the strong possibility of me having to miss that one regardless. If we missed too many, the sponsors would likely call in track time clauses on their contracts and we’d be up for the penalties. We couldn’t afford that.

  Instead, we had a dinner for Phoebe’s birthday the night before I left, inviting everyone to the party—all of Alyssa’s family, my mum, and Flynn.

  After the dinner, as everyone scattered into small groups to talk, I cornered Flynn to make sure he was staying with Alyssa the whole weekend. With her not quite due but far enough along to pop at any moment, I didn’t want to take any chances.

  He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why me?”

  “Mum will be around as well, of course,” I said, “but Lys is being stubborn about not needing help, so she won’t let Mum stay. But she’d never dream that I’d ask you to be my eyes and ears on the ground, so that’s exactly what I need you to be. Pretend you’re there to watch the race. Claim to have had too much to drink. I don’t care what you do. I just want someone at home with Lys and Pheebs in case Lys goes into labour. Knowing her stubborn arse, she wouldn’t call the ambulance because she doesn’t want to inconvenience the drivers. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to drive herself to the hospital through her contractions.”

  The closer her due date drew, and the bigger her stomach became, the more obstinate she was about not needing help. She’d spent ten minutes trying to pick a pair of nail clippers off the floor, refusing help from both Phoebe and me. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so fucking frustrating.

  He laughed. “You’re not wrong. I think if things hadn’t gone south so quickly last time she would’ve been the same.”

  “If anything goes even the slightest bit wrong, I want her in an ambulance and then you call me. Have you got that?”

  “Yes, sir.” He grinned at me. “You know, I like this commanding, protective version of you way more than that dickhead I met at Emmie’s graveside.”

  I snorted as I recalled my behaviour leading up to that meeting. “Yeah, me too.”

  “I’ll work my magic with Lys, and your wish shall be my command.” He went to move back to Alyssa’s side.

  “Oh, one more thing,” I said, drawing his attention back to me. “If something happens and I can’t make it back in time, make sure the right name goes on the fucking birth certificates this time, yeah?”

  A bark of laughter left him. “Sure thing, Dec. Good luck in the top end.”

  As it grew later and the party wound down everyone left, saying their goodbyes to the birthday girl and wishing me luck for my race.

  I just hoped my little boy would hold on until I got home again.

  AFTER EVERY session on the track, the first thing I would do was get my mobile phone and check for news from home. I was a fucking nervous wreck. Thankfully instead of distracting me, it was almost as if I was able to channel the frustration into the car to give it a few extra Ks an hour. It put me on pole, then first in the first race. Everyone kept saying that if my form kept up, there was every chance I’d be able to claw back to third or maybe even second in the championship.

  Still, it took everything in me to focus on the track and not think about Alyssa and Phoebe at home. Whenever my attention strayed to them, I reminded myself that they were the reason I was racing hard. Keeping the team going, keeping the team and driver rank positions strong, would benefit our family in the long run.

  The moment the race meet was over, I ensured everyone had everything under control and then was on a plane heading back home. There would be time to celebrate my overall win later—once I was certain Alyssa was safe and the baby wasn’t going to be born without me at her bedside.

  Thankfully, there’d been no movement at the station when I arrived home, but she did have another antenatal app
ointment booked for the following day that I’d be able to accompany her to.

  As a way to celebrate a belated birthday, Phoebe and I had a daddy-daughter day at the kart track. Because she was now five, she was able to go on the tandem karts and I could show her the fun of speed.

  As we flew around the corners, she squealed and giggled.

  “Can I go by myself?”

  “Not yet, sweetheart,” I said. “But one day, I’ll show you how to beat every other sucker out on that track. Does that sound good? Coming first, just like Daddy.”

  Wide-eyed, she nodded. After a moment, she asked, “Can we go fast again now?”

  Even though I’d only planned for the one session, I couldn’t resist her little hands coming together to beg or the pleading pout on her lips.

  “Let’s do it.”

  WITH NO urgent need for me to be in the office, and Alyssa’s due date so imminent, everything non-vital was put on hold. I went to work only when absolutely necessary—leaving the team to each do what they did best. Because I was desperate not to miss a thing and ensure that everything was ready for Brock’s homecoming, I had Mum on constant standby to pick Phoebe up from school if something happened.

  I hovered around Alyssa so much I was certain she was getting sick of me. The first pregnancy with me at her side was highly likely to lead to our divorce. Even my upcoming birthday wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things.

  “I can do it, Dec!” she snapped at me when I bumped her away from the chest of drawers.

  She’d spent the better part of the morning cleaning and sorting everything out in the nursery before deciding that it might be better to change the floor plan and move the chest of drawers away from the change table so that Brock wouldn’t be able to move from one surface to the other when he got a little older. Why it couldn’t be moved later, I had no idea. Or even why it couldn’t be the change table—the piece of furniture that was on fucking wheels—that was the one to be moved.