I slowed. “Maybe we should call the police.”
“No. She wasn’t hurt. And there’s no way she was actually foaming at the mouth. Probably mental health issues and I’m going to sound terrible, but I don’t want to deal with anyone else’s shit right now. I want our hotel room and a cozy bed and my wife cuddling next to me. And to shower the mothball smell away.” She pulled her shirt to her nose and then wrinkled her nose.
I smiled and pointed us in the direction of the hotel. “I’ll respect whatever decision you make about next summer,” I said.
“You’re part of that decision, woman. They’re your boys as much as they’re mine. Rod donated sperm and a couple good years. Everything else those boys has come from you and me. Got me, Dee?” She curled her fingers in mine and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
I squeezed back, my heart filling with love for her. “I got you.”
3
Then
I was flipping through channels when Lana emerged from the steamy bathroom, her hair plastered to her head, her cheeks flushed from the shower. “That shower is amazing.”
“Waterfall head. We need one for our bathroom.”
She raised a corner of the towel draped around her neck and began gently squeezing water out of her hair. “We’d never keep the boys out if we got one.”
“We won’t tell them,” I said and flipped back the covers. “Come snuggle.”
She waggled a finger at me. “I’ll get the sheets all wet.”
“I want to get you all wet,” I said, enjoying it when her cheeks flushed pink. It didn’t matter that we’d been together for over a decade—I could still make her blush.
“Promise?”
“Oh yeah baby.” I waggled my brows and then caught the towel she launched at me. “What? Can’t handle all this sexiness?” I raised up on my knees and gyrated, my blue boy shorts making my ass look fine if I did say so myself.
“You’re insane.” She was giggling, but the giggles faded as something caught her eye on the TV. “What in the world—?”
I unmuted it in time to hear, “Officials have declared martial law in most major cities on the eastern seaboard. The National Guard is moving in to help bring order to the chaos. No official reports on the death toll are available to us; however, every social media site is filled with horrifying video of the violence. Viewers beware, this footage is graphic.” It cut from the reporter to a shaky cell phone video showing a terrified woman as she’s yanked down to the street by a gang of people. Another video showed a man taking a bite out of a screaming boy and you could see the flesh ripping away from bone even though the news station had pixelated the footage. Tweets scrolled, enumerating death after violent death. “Phone lines are overloaded, so we encourage anyone with loved ones on the east coast to text. You have a better chance of getting through and you free up the airwaves for emergency services.”
Lana sat on the bed, her hands still. “What on earth is going on?”
“It’s like the start of the apocalypse,” I joked, but it didn’t feel very funny and I crawled forward to wrap my arms around her. “We’re going home tomorrow. And the boys are safe with Mom and Dad.”
She nodded. “That’s good. Very good.” A frown flitted across her face. “Did you see that guy’s mouth? The one who bit the boy? Was it … foamy?”
I shook my head, then stopped. Had it been foamy? Had the woman who walked out in front of our car foamy lips too? “No, I don’t think so.”
She nodded but I could tell she didn’t really believe it. Neither did I.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I said again. “First thing in the morning.” I brushed her hair away from her neck and planted a kiss on her damp skin. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said, shivering as I kissed her again. Goosebumps raced up her arms and then she turned, laughing in my arms. “You know just where to kiss me to make me shiver.”
“Mmm,” I agreed. “I know exactly where to kiss you to make you come, too.”
She laughed and put a finger on my lips. “Not yet. I need to dry my hair or I’ll look like an insane person tomorrow.”
I fell back on the bed with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Go dry your hair instead of doing the dirty with me.”
“You’re so romantic.”
I rolled to my side. “I so am.” The TV was filled with disturbing news and several programs were interrupted by breaking news alerts. “The violence is spreading,” yelled one reporter into a microphone before the video cut out. A world gone mad—literally. Even the BBC was reporting violence spreading across the UK and Europe. Al Jazeera talked about gangs in the streets of Cairo. Alexandria was in flames.
“Why don’t you turn it off?” She sounded as disturbed as I felt.
I did and crossed the room to look out the window, not sure if I was expecting to see riots in the street. It was quiet—well, as quiet as a city got. No riots. No one eating people on the corner. I pulled the curtains closed as Lana’s phone rang. “The boys?”
She shook her head, frowning. “Rod.”
I groaned. “Ignore it. Please.”
She did, to my surprise. “It can wait until later, right?” The dryer turned on and I lost her in the high-pitched whine of the motor for interminable minutes. When she was finally done, her hair was tousled but dry and when she turned, she opened her robe and flashed me.
“Oo la la. More of that, please,” I said, and then she was in my arms and the world faded away for a long, beautiful time.
It was eleven when her phone rang again and again and again. She groaned and I slipped out of bed to see who it was. “Rod. There are a million texts too. You want to read them?” I
