Riot novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: The Waiting Room

Rhys's POV

On Thursday night, a day before Sabine's deadline, Joss's water broke on the couch.

She looked down.

She looked at me.

"That's not the tea," she said.

I had her in my arms and out the door before she finished the sentence.

I carried her down three flights in the dark, past the landing where Bex's mop leaned on the wall.

She was thirty-four weeks.

She gripped my collar with both fists and breathed through her teeth.

"Art," I said into my phone. "The car. Now."

He was at the curb in four minutes, with the back door already open.

At the hospital, he pulled up to the ambulance bay, and the first thing I saw was the flash.

Three photographers stood on the pavement under the awning.

Sabine stood in front of them in a long camel coat, with her phone raised.

"Rhys," she called, in her bright, thin voice. "There you are."

Art had a wheelchair out of the rack before I could move.

I lifted Joss into it, and a contraction went through her so hard that her nails left marks in my wrist.

"Get out of my way," I said.

"Retract," Sabine said. "Tonight. On camera. Or I post every message your mother ever sent me."

"My wife is in labor."

I heard the word leave my mouth.

Joss's head came up, white-faced.

"I'm not your wife," she gasped.

"Not yet," I said.

Sabine laughed, high and sharp.

"Oh, that's sweet. Your mother said the baker would be gone by Christmas."

She smiled with her teeth.

"She said you'd forget her by spring."

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