Two Words by alextasy,alextasy

She glares at him while I zip her up. We both put on our shoes.

“Uh, Jack. Where are you going?” Mitch asks.

“Someplace else.”

“When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.” That’s not the truth, but the truth means so little to this asshole it doesn’t matter. “You can call her if we’re not back by eight in the morning. Don’t call before then.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Shouldn’t take long to figure out how to untie yourself. You can sleep here.”

“I’m not gonna sleep in your damned jizz.”

“Room 206.” I fling my spare key card onto the bed. It happens to land in a wet spot.

“Don’t go, Dana,” he says. He looks forlorn. “We need to talk. I love you.” Those are the first words I’ve heard from him that sound authentic.

She throws him a disgusted look. There is no emotion in her voice when she tells me, “Let’s go.” Her hair is wet and stringy. She is a woman scorned. She is beautiful.

“Dana…” he calls out again as the door closes behind us.

With my hand at her back, we take the elevator down to my room. Dana looks at my room number and smirks. It’s not the number I gave Mitch.

Fortunately, I haven’t had time to unpack yet. I snap my luggage closed and take it to the lobby to check out. Dana hasn’t said a word, but she has a small, satisfied smile. I think she’s figuring it out.

I open the rental car door for her, then throw my bags in the back.

“Which one is Richard’s car?” I ask.

Dana chuckles and points to a black luxury SUV. My SOG takes out two of his tires, then I return and slide into the driver’s seat. From a manila folder in the console I hand her a sheet of paper.

“My flight to St. Louis is on there. Call the airline and cancel my reservation.”

“Are we going to St. Lou?”

“That’s where I’m going.”

In the light from the parking lot I can see her lip quivering. I could tell her what I want to happen and she would go along with it. We both need her to make her own choice.

I ask her, “How long does it take to get to your house?”

“About, uh…about two and half hours.” She sniffles. “But Jack, I don’t want to–”

“That gives you two and a half hours to make a decision. You have three choices. If you want, I will take you home and leave you there. I can take you home, fuck you in your husband’s bed and leave you there. Or I will take you home, fuck you in your husband’s bed, help you pack, and take you with me.”

Dana is quiet. I start the car and head toward the Interstate.

She says, “Is St. Lou as far as I go?”

“That’s up to you. You know what it takes to end this, right?”

“Two words.”

I glance over and see a smile. She calls the airline and makes the changes.

Neither of us has spoken since we got on the freeway. We’ve driven about five miles. She picks up her phone and hits a speed dial. When she lifts it to her ear, I notice she’s not wearing her rings. She must have left them on the TV stand.

“Mom?…Yeah, I know it’s late. Everything’s okay. Something has come up. You were right. It was even worse than I thought…Yeah, I should’ve done it years ago, but that’s sorta why I’m calling. I just wanted to let you and Dad know I’m going away for a while…”

She giggles, then looks over toward me. I guess she’s made a decision. A big smile breaks out on my face.

“I’m not sure, Mom. Right now, I don’t know where I’m going. Just away,” she says. “I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be in touch. You know what to do if he calls…no, tell Dad to holster his sidearm.”

My attention snaps to the side. I stare at her. She gives me a crooked grin.

“Yeah okay,” she says into the phone. “I love you, too. Give Dad a hug.” She hangs up.

“Your father is military?”

“Retired,” she says. “I’m an Army brat.”

“Where were you stationed?” I’m prepared for a long list.

“Dad was all over. When I was young we spent some time in Germany. Mom wanted me and my sister to have a stable school life, so we moved near our grandparents.” Twisting to the side in her seat, she says, “Will you tell me about your back now?”

Most people wouldn’t understand. Yeah, you could say it’s just a job. Sort of like a firefighter rushing into a burning building is just a job. If Dana’s father retired from the service, she knows about duty. She’s strong. I should have recognized it.

“It was eight years ago. I had about six weeks before rotating home again. I wasn’t going to re-up a third time. My team was called to intercept a group of Taliban fighters. We were told they were planning to attack a school. When we arrived at the village the teacher was standing on a wooden crate in front of the school and surrounded by her students. She seemed terrified. We called to the students, but they refused to move. She kept motioning for us to come get them. Something didn’t smell right.”

Dana’s phone rings. She shakes her head and swipes the call. I guess he finally figured out how to untie the knot.

“Go on,” she says. Her voice is gentle.

“I was the team leader. I handed my rifle to my corporal and held up my hands to let the woman know I wasn’t armed. I told everyone else to stay back and approached her alone. The woman kept trying to get everyone else to come get the children. I was only about ten feet away, close enough to see her brow crease in anger once she realized I was the only one who was going to help. She threw her hands in the air and shouted two words–‘Allahu Akbar’.”