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She looked into my eyes, “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Is this something I should be sitting up for?”
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“Hmm, I quite like you lying on top of me, so I’ll take my chances. What is it?”
“I’m overdue for my birth control shot. Only a week. So much has been going on that I completely forgot about it.”
I smiled, “So what’s the problem?”
“We’ve been having, uh, a lot of sex, and though it doesn’t happen so quickly, I could be pregnant.”
“Is that an issue for you? Do you want to have my baby?”
“More than anything.”
“Then it’s fine that you’re overdue. Maybe you should take a test.”
“Zane, I doubt I’m pregnant, but I wanted to know if I should get another shot, or we should just keep trying.”
“Well, trying or not, I can’t resist your beautiful body. Don’t get another shot, and when it happens, you’ll make me a very happy man.”
Lana kissed my neck, and I held her against me. I was thirty-six, and I wanted to be a father. Every time I held Vincent, I longed for a child of my own, and I wanted her to be the mother of that child.
“I love you,” she mumbled against my skin.
“Not more than I love you.”
We didn’t hear anything from Declan for the next week, but he sent me a calling card. I woke up earlier than usual and decided to go for a run in the park. The sun was peeking over the horizon as I left my building, slowly jogging across the street. It was barely 5:15 when I started a faster pace. I heard footsteps behind me but paid them no mind. Lots of runners came out to the park to exercise.
It was until I felt the pain in my back, and I crumpled to the ground that I realized I should have paid attention. Blows rained down on me until I heard two men screaming as they approached. The attackers abandoned my prone body and took off. The men that saved me knelt to see if they could assist.
“You okay?”
I looked up, squinting as blood stung my right eye. The man talking to me was young and tightly muscled. He was wearing blue shorts and an orange tank top. It made me think of New York Mets colors. His companion was similarly dressed, but his tank top was yellow.
“I’m, I’m not sure.”
“You have a cut over your eye.”
He slipped off his backpack and took out a handkerchief, pouring water on it and wiping at the blood.
“Is it bad?”
“I think you’re going to need stitches. What do you think, Barry?”
“Yeah, he’s right. Maybe two or three. We’re nurses at Lenox Hill Hospital.”
“Do you want to stand?” Barry asks.
“Can I sit here for a few minutes?”
“You can do whatever you need to. I think we should call the police. Those guys were pounding on you pretty hard. Do you know them?”
I shook my head, “No.”
Barry took out his phone and called nine one one. They sat with me until the police came. They took their statements, and mine then transported me to Lenox Hill. I felt dizzy, but they tested and said I didn’t have a concussion. I got three stitches for the cut over my eyebrow and had some bruises and abrasions but nothing more serious.
