Bedlam Read online

  I glanced up at him, my embarrassment forgotten. “I’d like that.”

  Strong fingers caught my chin and angled my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. The lines of his face shifted—a subtle transformation that held me in thrall—his lighthearted expression morphing into something intense, something that held a hint of dark promise. My eyes widened even as Kyle’s lids slid down and his hooded gaze honed in on my mouth.

  Time hung suspended between us. I gulped. My chest constricted, my heart slamming against my ribs. I felt light-headed, giddy, as if I couldn’t draw enough air in my lungs. Kyle slid his hand to the back of my head, cupping my nape. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me in place as his mouth swooped down to cover mine. My lips trembled against his. I fought for breath. Digging my fingernails into his shoulders, I pressed my aching breasts against his chest. He shuddered and yanked his mouth away from mine. He panted, his breath warm against my tingling lips.

  Kyle lifted glazed eyes to meet mine. “I’ll be gentle the first time, Sunshine. I promise. But after that—” He paused. The world stopped spinning while I waited for him to continue. He lowered his chin. “After that, I’m going to wreck you.”

  This was Kyle? My old friend? Damn. Not once in my teenage fantasies had he threatened to wreck me, but I was dying to discover exactly what that meant. I lost the ability to speak. I nodded once, a jerky motion that delighted him, if the sudden, self-satisfied curve of his mouth was any indication.

  I had to say something. I shook myself, searching for words. Any words. “Won’t you have to explain why we’re eating in our room?” I asked. “Brody will have a field day.”

  “Brody can think what he wants. And he’d better keep his damned mouth shut,” Kyle said.

  “This means that we can’t leave for Valhalla immediately,” I reminded him.

  “Not a problem. We can take a day to get ready. Tell the Allsops our plans. Talk to Mrs. B. and Ever. Give them time to pack. We’ll have our evening, then we’ll take off for Valhalla the following morning.”

  Too good to be true. It all felt too good to be true.

  “Wow,” I marveled. “Dreams can still come true.”

  “Our happily ever after is just getting started,” he said. “You’re going to love Valhalla and all my friends there. Kenzie. Ripper. He might look intimidating at first, but he’s a truly good man. We’ve got our own doctor, Sahdev. Hell of a great guy. Bear. Nyx. Hannah and Levi. They’re all great people, and I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

  I could get over my antipathy for Kenzie now that she no longer held Kyle’s heart. Maybe we could even become friends. “It sounds like heaven.” I sighed.

  “Well, yeah. It ought to. It’s Valhalla. Viking heaven.”

  I laughed. In Norse mythology Valhalla was a hall of warriors who had died in battle, who were preparing to fight the big battle at the end of time. Not exactly a traditional view of heaven, but I was too stinking happy to quibble. “I can’t wait. Can you imagine Ever growing up on a ranch? With chickens and horses and cows? She’ll love it.”

  “And sooner or later there will be other kids to keep her company,” he said. “Ripper and Kenzie want to have children someday. Nyx has her eye on Bear. That cowboy doesn’t stand a chance. Maybe Hannah and Levi when they’re older. Who knows, maybe even us.”

  Maybe even us. A future full of promise stretched out before me. A week ago such happiness would have been unimaginable.

  I pinched myself again, just to be sure.

  EIGHTEEN

  Kyle

  Knowing how Sunny felt about Brody, no way in hell would I ask him if he had any condoms. Even if he was willing to share, I wouldn’t put her in the position of hearing any unwelcome comments about her sex life. Nope. I was on my own. Pharmacies had been picked clean. Grocery stores, too, but I had a couple of ideas where I might get my hands on them.

  I rolled out of bed a little past 9 a.m., leaving Sunny curled up on her side making the cutest little snuffling sounds. She wasn’t snoring—I knew from Jake’s sad experience with his girlfriend never to accuse a woman of snoring—the sound was a cross between a snort and a sniffle. Like I said, a snuffle, and it was absolutely adorable.

  The heavy gold charms on her grandma’s bracelet clanked together whenever she rolled over or tossed her arm over her head, which she did. A lot. I’d better get used to it because Sunny told me she was never taking off the bracelet. Snuffles and clanks made for a noisy night.

  I’d gotten out of the habit of sharing my bed and woke up hot a couple of times. It had nothing to do with my quest for condoms. I wasn’t hot and bothered like Mom used to say. No, I woke up sweaty because I wasn’t used to sleeping next to a warm body. And Sunny was a cuddler, throwing her leg over mine or burrowing into my chest.

  I passed a hot and noisy night. Was I complaining? Hell no. I hadn’t felt this happy in God knows how long. Not since Kenzie and I split up, and the pandemic burned its way through the world. And no nightmares disturbed my sleep. Life was full of promise.

  I snagged a cherry Danish and a cup of coffee on my way out the door. The pickup sat where I’d left it in the driveway, but somebody had filled its tank with gas and deposited three five-gallon gas cans on the floor of the truck bed. I scratched my head over that. I had no clue who’d do that for me, or why.

  One of my high school friends had decided to stay in Boise for college. He’d mentioned that the vending machines in his residence hall sold condoms. On a hunch, I drove across town and parked in front of one of the largest residence halls. I carried a crowbar—in case I had to break in—but the main door was unlocked, and I walked right in.

  An eerie sense of deja vu snuck up on me as I made my way down a long hallway, my flashlight beam bouncing off a seemingly endless line of closed doors. This was how the nightmare began four months ago. A new flu virus was sweeping across the globe. Rumors were rife that the governor was about to declare a state of emergency. Stories spread of flu victims falling prey to a homicidal mania. Kenzie and I, along with Jake and his girlfriend Ali, had fled the dorm. Kenzie took refuge with her cousin, Miles. I took off with my friends for an ill-fated drive home to Boise. On that one day, everything began to go to shit.

  Now I carried both a gun and a crowbar as I made my way through another dorm. I was ready to defend myself from anything, anything except the memories triggered by the walk down the long corridor. My footsteps echoed in the empty hall. Nobody was dying behind the closed doors. Still, I picked up the pace, jogging until I came to a communal bathroom.

  People might have emptied the grocery stores and pharmacies, but nobody had thought to raid the vending machine in the residence hall bathroom. I pried it open with the crowbar and took every single package of condoms.

  I smiled to myself. Ripper would rib me if he could see me shoving dozens of foil packets into my pockets. Big plans tonight, brother? Sure you got enough there?

  “Soon,” I said out loud. “We’ll be home soon.” I couldn’t wait to introduce Sunny to my friends. Ever and Mrs. B., too. With any luck, we’d be in Valhalla by tomorrow night. That thought propelled me into a sprint. I ran back to the truck, started up the engine, and drove straight for Cressida’s Cottage.

  “It’s Kyle,” Ever shrieked when she opened the front door. She leapt. I hoisted her into the air then settled her around my waist like she was a toddler instead of a nine-year-old. I spun around three times, then deposited the girl back on the floor.

  Mrs. B. emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel and smiling a warm welcome. “I just put the kettle on. You’ll have tea?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Ever chatted happily about Fitzwilliam’s latest tricks while Mrs. B. bustled around her sunny kitchen, brewing a pot of English breakfast tea. I glanced around her cheerful home, crammed full of books and framed prints and embroidered cushions. Would she be willing to abandon it all to move to a ranch that was—in Ripper’s words—“at the ass
end of nowhere”? I hoped so. I’d known Mrs. B. and Ever for only a few days, but already I’d be bereft without them.

  “I need to talk to you about something important,” I said, accepting my mug of hot tea.

  “Ever, dear, can you go play in your room for awhile so I can chat with Kyle?”

  “Okay.” Ever slung Fitzwilliam over her shoulder and pranced down the hall toward her room.

  Mrs. B. took a seat on her bright-green sofa and patted the cushion next to her. I sat down. Three foil-wrapped condoms slipped from my bulging front pocket and fell on the carpet at our feet. Mrs. B. leaned forward, studying them.

  “Magnums,” she pronounced with a delighted tone.

  Jesus Christ. I hadn’t blushed since I was fourteen, yet there it was. A hot flush crept up my cheeks. Dammit.

  “Are you here to ask my blessing to woo our sweet Sunny? Dear boy, I say go for it. A little bird told me that she’d be very receptive.” She pushed a condom toward me with the toe of her shoe, then the woman actually waggled her brows.

  I cleared my throat, bending to pick up the condoms and stuff them back in my pocket.

  “Mrs. B… ma’am—”

  “Oh dear, this sounds like the start of a serious conversation.” She placed her teacup on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap, giving me her full attention.

  “Tomorrow morning Sunny and I will be leaving Boise. We’re going to Valhalla. It’s a cattle ranch in central Oregon where I’ve settled with some friends. A safe, out-of-the-way place.”

  “I see.” Mrs. B. twisted her hands together in her lap.

  “We want you and Ever to come with us,” I said quickly. “Sunny’s been reluctant to leave town before things here stabilized, but the scare with Ever changed her mind. We want to move someplace safe. All of us. Together.”

  Mrs. B. looked stunned, staring into the distance, her forehead furrowed. “Leave Boise. Live on a cattle ranch.”

  “I say yes,” Ever cried, poking her head in from the entryway. Apparently she’d snuck back to the front hall where she’d been eavesdropping. “I want us to live with Kyle and Sunny. Please, Mrs. B.”

  “Back to your room, young lady,” Mrs. B. ordered. “I want to talk privately with Kyle.”

  “Okay.” Ever frowned. “But remember I vote yes.” She stomped back down the hall, every loud footstep a protest at being excluded from the conversation.

  “Sorry about that,” I muttered.

  She waved her hand, dismissing my concerns. “Do you and Sunny really want to live with an old woman and a little girl? Your friends, they would welcome us?”

  “Yes and yes,” I assured her. “They’re good people and Valhalla is a beautiful place. Ever could gather eggs and pick carrots. Learn how to ride a horse, if she liked.”

  A squeal sounded from the hall.

  “I take it that’s a yes to horseback riding lessons,” Mrs. B. said dryly.

  “Please, Mrs. B., Sunny and I really want you with us.”

  Her gaze traveled around the cozy pink room. “I’ve lived here for more than forty years. So many memories of my late husband, Jack, are woven into these walls. I love this little house.” She turned her eyes to me. “But a house isn’t a home. A home is the people you love. And Ever and I love you and Sunny.” She stood, her eyes sparkling. “Besides, a cattle ranch in central Oregon sounds like a real adventure, and I’m not too old for a new adventure. Maybe I could learn how to ride a horse.”

  I seized her hands, my grip gentle because of her arthritis. “Mrs. B., you’ve made me a happy man.”

  She smiled. “Pshaw, young man. Thank you for including us. Ever will be over the moon.”

  “Is that good?” Ever asked, sticking her head back into the room.

  “I give up.” Mrs. B. held out her arms, and Ever rushed to her side, hopping up and down as she hugged the woman.

  “I’ve got some time,” I said. “We have room in the bed of the truck to bring some of your things. Clothes and toiletries, of course. Maybe a couple of boxes of books and your favorite knickknacks. I can help you pack.”

  “I’d like to bring my mother’s tea set and my grandmother’s quilt,” Mrs. B. said.

  “And Fitzwilliam’s toys and bed. And his cat food,” Ever added.

  “Good thinking,” I said. “Fitzwilliam is part of the family, and we’ll pack up what he needs.”

  I hauled several empty boxes up from the basement. For the next couple of hours, I helped Mrs. B. pack. She stood in the middle of her living room, tapping her chin as she deliberated, then pointing at the books she wanted me to pack. I carried three heavy boxes of books to my truck. Mrs. B. carefully wrapped up her mother’s tea set in her grandmother’s quilt, then placed a Staffordshire figure of Queen Victoria on top of the box.

  We gave Ever two empty boxes to fill with books and games. To my surprise, she put a Staffordshire figure of a zebra into her box. “His name is Jeff,” she explained. “I want to keep him in my new bedroom.” At the top of the box she placed a beaded pillow embroidered with a blue bird of happiness. Mrs. B. and Ever each packed a suitcase full of clothing and shoes.

  “We’ll be here around 8 to pick you up,” I told them as I unrolled the waterproof truck bed cover and snapped it in place over the boxes and gas cans.

  “We’ll be waiting with bells on,” Mrs. B. said, smiling.

  “We will?” Ever demanded. “Where are we going to put the bells?”

  “Just an expression, dearest.” Mrs. B. dropped a kiss on top of the girl’s head.

  Ever and Mrs. B. stood side by side in the driveway, waving as I drove away. I sang an old country music song while I navigated back to the Allsop estate—a Garth Brooks love song—both hands tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel as I crooned. Sunny should be up and dressed by now. I smiled, imagining her delight when I told her that Mrs. B. and Ever had agreed to come to Valhalla with us. My chest ached, I was so freaking happy.

  I pulled off the main road and followed the long, curving driveway up to the house. When I turned the key and jumped from the pickup, the front door flew open. Brody jogged toward the truck, his face twisted with stress.

  “Shit, man, why didn’t you take a two-way radio with you?”

  “What’s wrong?” My limbs locked and dread constricted my breath.

  “It’s Sunny,” he said. “She’s gone.”

  NINETEEN

  Sunny

  I woke up face-down on the mattress, drooling onto my pillow. I swept out my arm, patting the sheets, feeling for Kyle. He was gone. I was alone in the big bed. Prying one eye open, I mumbled and swiped at my damp cheek. Blech. I must have slept like the dead. I fumbled for the clock on the nightstand, squinting as the numbers swam into view. 11:14 a.m. Good lord. How had I slept so long? My bleary gaze settled on the wall of windows. Kyle had closed all the curtains, leaving the room bathed in darkness, probably so the morning light wouldn’t awaken me.

  I smiled to myself. My man—I could think of him as my man, couldn’t I—he was taking care of me. He’d told me to sleep in, and he’d made sure that it was possible. Arching my back, I stretched and sighed happily, burrowing into the sheets.

  All was well in my world. And tonight… tonight… I’d finally discover what it was like to make love to the man of my dreams.

  I sat up and spied a note on the nightstand.

  Good morning, Sunshine. Hope you got a good night’s sleep. You’re gonna need it! I’m off to talk to Mrs. B. and Ever and to get some things ready for this evening. Should be back early afternoon. Kyle

  I jumped out of bed and began stripping the sheets from the mattress. I wanted everything to be perfect this evening, including clean sheets and pillowcases that weren’t crusted with dried drool. Hildy probably changed the sheets on a schedule, but I was certainly capable of finding the laundry room and washing them myself.

  Tomorrow Kyle and I would be walking away from this life of luxury, from a house powered by electricity an
d full of all the amenities of modern life. From brownie sundaes and cheesecake. This might be my last chance to use a washing machine. I didn’t care. I could move on without a backward glance because I’d be sailing into the sunset with Kyle.

  I’m such a sap.

  I took a quick shower, threw on a pair of jeans, sandals, and a white embroidered top in the floaty boho style I loved. I wrapped mom’s wild Pucci scarf around my neck. Grandma’s charm bracelet jingled on my wrist as I gathered up the dirty sheets and headed off to search for the laundry room.

  The thick carpeting muted my footsteps as I traipsed along the hall and down the stairs. At the bottom of the steps, I paused, hearing voices from the kitchen.

  “You and Brody took care of that unfortunate woman?” I recognized Elliot Allsop’s voice.

  “Yes, sir,” Jonesy answered.

  “And disposed of the body?” Mr. Allsop’s voice was bland and uninflected, as if he was talking about nothing more exciting than the weather or what he ate for breakfast.

  “Of course.”

  “Prepare to start culling the herd next week,” Elliot Allsop said.

  “Have you decided the cut-off age, sir?”

  “I have. We need to balance a person’s productivity against available resources. We can’t afford to subsidize leeches. I’ve decided that we’ll cut off access to food and water at sixty-five.”

  “Very good, sir,” Jonesy said.

  “Unless there are mitigating circumstances, of course,” Mr. Allsop added. “Someone who is of continuing value to society—doctors, engineers, perhaps some particularly fine musicians or artists—they’ll warrant an extension. And the converse is true. Those with no potential to ever contribute to society will be cut off, regardless of age.”