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Level Up: Violent Circle: Book Five

Page 19

by Shade, S. M.


  Okay.

  It’s then that I notice my car. It’s covered from bumper to bumper with pictures of Neal’s face, each only about five inches by five inches. The windshield is one large banner picture of him giving a thumbs up. The back windshield is the same, only the picture shows him giving me the finger.

  They peel out of the parking lot, and he turns and waves.

  I turn to Denton and Noble. “All right, help me peel this shit off.”

  “Uh—Trey?” Denton says, after pulling off a picture and looking into the backseat. “That isn’t all.”

  Slowly, I open the driver’s door.

  It looks like it snowed in my car, and I cautiously stick my hand inside. The tiny white beads instantly adhere to my hand, and cling to my arm hair. God, they stick to everything worse than glitter.

  “What the hell is it?” Denton asks.

  My chest shakes with laughter despite the monumental mess I have to clean up.

  “Bean bag filling.”

  Epilogue

  Trey

  Noble and Jani are the first people I see when I rush down the hallway to the maternity ward. “Where is she?”

  Jani points to a closed door. “In that room. The doctor is in with her now.”

  Relief fills Sasha’s face when she sees me for only a moment before pain takes over again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize my phone didn’t have a signal until we got back to town and all the messages came through. What’s going on?” I grab her hand, and regard the doctor, who looks at me like I’m a can short of a six pack.

  “She’s in labor.”

  “It’s three weeks early!”

  “Babies don’t always follow the schedule.” The doctor pulls the sheet up and has Sasha scoot down and bend her knees. One glance and she adds, “And this one is ready to join us.” She motions for me to come to the end of the bed to look. I’m instantly sorry I did.

  “What? No, I need an epidural, I can’t—” Sasha’s words are interrupted by a contraction and she moans, her fists gripping the sheets.

  The doctor’s voice is even and calm. “There’s no time for that. He’s coming now.”

  Panic fills Sasha’s face. “I can’t have him natural are you out of your mind? Knock me out! Oh god, give me some morphine or whiskey or something! Fuck!” She yells as another contraction strikes her.

  A nurse enters and the doctor tells her, “No time to get her to the delivery room.” The nurse nods and rushes off, returning with another nurse. They both wheel in equipment.

  Denton follows the nurse through the door. “Hey, I just wanted to see how—”

  “Get out!” Sasha screams.

  Frozen in place with his gaze locked on my fiancée’s vagina, his face goes stone white. Sasha continues to scream at him to leave, and the nurse starts toward him to escort him out. Before she can, his eyes roll back in his head and he hits the ground like a bag of sand.

  I take one step in his direction, and Sasha squeezes my hand until I’m sure it’ll pop off my wrist. “If you leave me, I will castrate you in your sleep!”

  The nurse checks on him, then shakes her head with a smile. “He’s fine. He just fainted. Happens all the time.” She types something into her phone and returns to help with Sasha, leaving Denton on the floor.

  “Trey! I changed my mind! I can’t do this! He’s going to tear me apart!”

  I grab her hand and sit beside her. “I’ve got you. You can do this. It’ll be over soon and we’ll have our son.”

  “Fuck you! You did this to me!”

  Two orderlies enter, wake Denton, and lead him out of the room, still looking like he’s seen a ghost.

  Ignoring Sasha’s cursing and the fact she’s now resorting to calling me every name in the book, the doctor looks up at her from between her legs. “It’s time to push. Don’t stop until I tell you. Push with the contractions.”

  “Oh god! It hurts.”

  It breaks my heart to see her in so much pain when there’s nothing I can do but hold her. “Now. Push,” the doctor says. A nurse takes her other hand and we both help her hold a leg back as Sasha bears down, her face turning bright red.

  Finally, she gasps and tries to catch her breath. “Good, you’re doing great,” the doctor tells her.

  “You’re so strong, babe. You’re amazing,” I tell her.

  “You’re never touching me again! Do you hear me! Not even a titty!” she swears.

  The doctor and nurses have apparently heard it all before because they seem not to hear her threats as they focus on the job at hand. Sasha cries out as another contraction starts and the doctor orders her to push again.

  The cycle repeats for about ten minutes. Sasha crying out and pushing, screaming at me about how I’ll never have another blow job in my life and how much she hates my stupid cock, until finally, the doctor says, “Here he comes. His head is out. One more good long push! Now, push!”

  Sasha grips my hand and obeys, lets out a sharp shriek, and then, it’s over.

  A tense second passes before a wail fills the room, and the doctor lifts a tiny, pink smeared, screaming bundle onto Sasha’s stomach.

  Oh my god, my son looks like one of those hairless cats that’s wallowed in a bowl of Jell-O, all wrinkly and slimy, and I’ve never loved anything so much in my entire life.

  Tears spill down my face and Sasha stares at him with awe before looking up at me. “He’s beautiful.”

  “He’s perfect.”

  The next few minutes are a bustle of activity while the baby is cleaned up, weighed, and examined. The doctor coaches Sasha through the delivery of the afterbirth and assures her she doesn’t need stitches since she got through it without tearing.

  Finally, they hand me my son. His eyes are closed, and he makes a little grunting sound, stirring in his sleep. I can’t believe he’s mine. I have a son. Nothing I ever experience can beat this moment.

  Sasha gives me an exhausted smile as I sit beside her, and we stare down at what we created. “Rowan Trey Bryant,” she whispers, trying out the name we agreed on.

  He starts wailing, and we both laugh. “I think he knows his name,” I remark, and hand him to Sasha, who cradles and coos at him. He settles down at the sound of her voice and falls back to sleep.

  Becca taps on the door, then peeks in. “Can we come in?”

  Sasha grins and nods, returning her gaze to baby Rowan’s face. Noble, Jani, Kelly, and Denton walk in behind Becca, and I step aside to let them all get close.

  “You!” I point at Denton, who still looks a little pale. “What the hell?”

  Denton holds up his hands. “I just wanted to check on her! Becca was worried and—”

  “You saw my girl’s vagina!”

  He blanches. “It was an accident! And trust me, it was not sexy! It looked like it was trying to blow a bubble. I’m going to have nightmares.”

  Everyone takes turns holding Rowan.

  Becca looks at Denton. “I want one. Or two, maybe three.”

  “See what you’ve done,” Denton tells Sasha, who gives him a tired smile. She’s exhausted and we need to let her rest. First though…

  I get the nurse’s attention as she gets ready to leave the room. “Will you take our picture?”

  “Of course.”

  Everyone starts to step away to let us take the picture, but that isn’t what I want. For the last four years, Noble and Denton have been my best friends, the guys I know I can go to for anything. We’ve been through a lot of crazy stuff, good and bad, but we made it. And somehow managed to find women who love us as much as we love them. We may not be roommates, or a part of Violent Circle anymore, but I want there to be no doubt what we’ll always remain.

  “No, gather around the bed. We want the whole family in there.”

  We all crowd around Sasha and Rowan, smiling for the camera. The nurse takes the shot and it’s perfect.

  It’s the picture we make prints of to send to our friends and family with the birth anno
uncement. It’s the picture I make sure we all go home with.

  It’s the picture that hangs in the living room of our first house for nearly a year before Sasha realizes her nipple is out.

  THE END

  This series is over, but it isn’t the last you’ll see of this crazy neighborhood. Follow the adventures of Kelly, Gavin, Elijah, and a cast of new characters who learn to live and love on Violent Circle in the upcoming spin off series, Slumming It.

  Acknowledgments

  This series was so much fun to write. My first thank you goes out to all the readers who messaged and emailed me after the release of Clean Start. Your response convinced me to continue past the trilogy I originally intended. I hope you’ll enjoy the spinoff series, Slumming It, just as much, and follow the new set of tenants on Violent Circle.

  So many people helped make this series possible.

  First, my infinitely patient PA and friend, Melissa Teo, who has somehow managed not to choke me for my impatience and distracted squirrel ways. She is seriously the best person to have supporting you in the book world, but don’t even think about it because I only share her with two other bitches. They know who they are.

  Chantal Baxendale, thanks so much for all the things you do. You’re such a big help, and I guess I can overlook that you’re now in league with my nemesis. I needed an inside agent anyway.

  To my alpha and beta readers, Aimee Degagne, Sarah Piechuta, Christina Santos, Chantal Baxendale, Paige Sayer, Colette Trainor, Amanda Munson, Theresa O’Reilly, Bridget McEvoy, and Veronica Ashley, thank you for all the work you do to make me look smarter than I am. I still maintain that you can “sweep” with a vacuum, Veronica, but whatever.

  To my group, Shady Ladies, thank you for loving these crazy characters and enabling my middle school sense of humor. You all make the group a fun, accepting place for everyone to hang out. Your enthusiasm and posts demanding to know when the hell the next book is coming keeps me motivated.

  This series has brought me two new friends who I adore. That desert dwelling bitch, Christina Santos, and Sarah Piechuta. Sorry, Sarah, I don’t have a nickname for you yet. I’m taking suggestions at this time. Thank you for all your help and support.

  Helena Hunting and Debra Anastasia, thank you for allowing me to invade your groups and introduce my comedies to your readers. I appreciate it so much.

  The covers for the Violent Circle books were created by Ally Hastings of Starcrossed Covers. I can’t recommend her enough. I messaged this poor woman for covers featuring a toilet brush, a red Solo cup, and tattoo gun. Her response was always, “Sounds fun, let’s try it.” Thank you, Ally.

  The pretty formatting was done by Abigail Davies of Pink Elephant Designs. Usually on short notice because I’m a pain in the ass like that. Thank you so much, Abi.

  There are so many people who help by sharing or recommending my books, I could never list them all. Whether you’re a fellow author, a blogger, page owner, or reader, I’m very grateful for all the love and support. I couldn’t do this without you.

  About the Author

  I love to connect with readers! Please stalk me at the following links:

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  More by S.M. Shade

  Other books in the Violent Circle Series

  Scarlet Toys

  http://mybook.to/scarlettoys

  Living on Violet Circle, a place that’s less of a neighborhood and more of an insane asylum poured into the street, I thought I was prepared for anything. After you’ve seen a woman strip down at the laundry room to wash the clothes she’s wearing, then saunter across the street naked, you’ve seen it all, right?

  How naïve I was.

  After the factory closed, leaving me and a good portion of the town unemployed, I took a job managing Scarlet Toys. I knew it wouldn’t be a typical work environment, selling adult toys in a town more uptight than a constipated nun, but some things you just never see coming.

  Like the protesters covered in poison ivy, screaming about smut peddlers.

  Or a dancing dinosaur named Fappy.

  Or the allure of the man standing in the center of all the chaos.

  Wyatt Lawson, a six foot, four inch heap of muscle with a quick smile, ignited my interest in more than the available manager position. Like the missionary one. Or the rodeo. Maybe the side rider. What can I say? I’m an overachiever.

  Let’s just hope he doesn’t scare easily.

  Frat Hell

  http://mybook.to/frathell

  Frat Hell.

  That’s how the whole neighborhood refers to the apartment where I live with three other college students. It’s a bit judgmental, considering the neighborhood we live in is more like a zoo than an apartment complex, but not inaccurate. If you put that many young guys together, things are bound to be interesting. I still maintain that the giant water guns filled with poison ivy water were not my idea.

  January Dixon.

  She’s the girl I’ve lusted after for years. A smart mouth and sharp tongue surrounded by soft beauty and a body I’d give up an organ just to touch. An important organ, like a kidney, not one of those lame ones like a gallbladder.

  It’s a tricky situation since she lives right down the street, and dating a neighbor generally isn’t a good idea. But this is Violent Circle, where normal may as well be a dirty word. Thanks to an impromptu fashion show where I tossed all self-respect aside and strutted my stuff in full bondage gear in front of our small town, she now owes me a date.

  And I plan to collect.

  Clean Start

  http://mybook.to/cleanstart

  Everyone knows the rumors about Violet Circle and the crazy inhabitants, but becoming a resident was my best option. These are the kind of decisions you’re faced with when you have a baby at eighteen, and your knight in shining armor turns out to be a deadbeat dad in saggy boxers.

  Don’t get me wrong, my five-year-old son, Aiden, is the love of my life, even when he’s telling random strangers I’m constipated, or lecturing his preschool friends on the differences in their anatomy. I wouldn’t trade him for anything, but raising him as a single parent while cleaning motel rooms for a living is like walking a balance beam made of sand. One wrong slip, and we’re homeless.

  It doesn’t take us long to adjust to our new home with all its eccentric people, and Aiden is happy here, but danger lurks right across the street. Not in the apartment of the odd woman who always wears a floppy sun hat and trench coat, or the crazy apartment full of college kids. I wish it were that simple.

  Neal Chambers, the single father who is ten years my senior, sets off alarms in my head.

  Mainly because he sets off other things in my panties.

  Zero Fucks

  http://mybook.to/Zerobook

  Mr. Rogers did not prepare me for the people in my neighborhood. A cut in financial aid for college and a lot of bad luck have landed me not only on Violent Circle, but in the apartment known as Frat Hell.

  I can handle myself, so living with three guys isn’t a problem. Even the madhouse disguised as a low income neighborhood isn’t an issue. The trouble is Denton, the man with the mischievous grin in the room across from mine.

  I can resist the lean, muscled body. I’m s
tronger than the quick smile and adorable dimple. But his kindness, that may be the straw that breaks the vagina’s crack.

  I just need to keep my head down and my legs together while I focus on making my dream of owning my own tattoo shop a reality.

  Jilted Duet (Rockstar)

  Duplicity

  http://mybook.to/duplicitybook

  The world famous lead singer of the hard rock group, Jilted, has moved into the Presidential Suite of my hotel. His reputation precedes him and none of it is positive.

  Considering his past exploits, drunken fights, and fondness for destroying hotel rooms, I don’t expect the next four months to be easy. For the sake of Foxhaven Resort, I’m going to make it work. Hosting an A-list celebrity will draw affluent guests and solidify the future success of the resort recently left to me by my late father.

  I have enormous shoes to fill and no rude, womanizing rock god is going to distract me. With his powerful voice, gorgeous face, and lean body, he may be accustomed to getting his way, especially with women, but I know better.

  So, he can flash that charming smile in another direction.

  I’m not falling for it.

  Veracity

  http://mybook.to/veracity

  This isn’t the life I want.

  Trapped in one random hotel room after another by a screaming crowd of fans and paparazzi. No friends or family nearby. Nothing that really makes me happy, except my music.

  Music is my only love, the only thing that makes my heart beat fast and my blood run hot, until her. Kinley Matthews, the owner of the Foxhaven Resort, is nothing like the women I’m accustomed to dating, but she’s everything I need.

 

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