Page 103 of Heart Sick

“It’s a unique name for a very unique man. He will honor Misha because his heart is theirs. It’s because of Misha that Dutch can live.”

So, now the question is…who the fuck is Misha?

Iwant to scream, but I can’t because I’m gagged.

I want to move, but I can’t because my wrists and ankles are tied to the bed.

Where thefuckam I?

Squinting, I peer around the starkly lit room because it’s so goddamn white in here, it hurts my eyes. I’m not in a hospital, but the room is definitely hospital-like with the machines and that sterile smell that burns your nose.

However, I can also smell lavender which seems completely out of place.

Peering overhead, I see I’m hooked up to an IV. Someone is trying to keep me alive, so that’s a bonus—I think.

My eyes adjust to the lights, and when I see I’m not alone, I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.

Someone lies in a single bed across from me. I don’t know if it’s a man or woman because their face is covered in bandages—total mummy style. They’re also hooked up to an IV, but no heart monitor like mine, which reminds me of that motherfucker Jack.

The last thing I remember is standing in the middle of the room and his voice whispering something which changed the course of everything.

“It’s her eyes you see because…I’m her son.”

I wanted there to be some mistake, but I knew there wasn’t.Thismade sense because it was the truth.

Jack wasn’t his real name. It was the nickname his football friends called him after taking down a giant on the field, earning him the name. His real name is Misha and Luna is his mom.

It was like a moving picture before my eyes of Misha’s life from the moment he was born to the moment he died, and who was behind the wheel wasn’t Luna…it was Joy.

Joy was the one who ran him off the road that night, but he doesn’t know why. Yes, they were lovers, and when he ended it, she became a little unhinged. But I could feel his confusion. He doesn’t know why she’s doing what she is to Luna.

He showed me their affair. She seduced him young. He thought it was real, but he believes she was drip-feeding him information that he would kill for—he wanted to know who his dad was.

Joy would give him snippets of information, but never enough for him to ever find him. When I asked the inevitable, why was he so desperate to find out who his father was, he said he needed to find him and see if he heard the voices too.

Misha got into drugs as self-medication to help block out the voices. He then realized he had an addictive personality which led to harder drugs which then led to dealing to feed his habit. He was a functioning addict.

And Luna had no idea her son was in trouble. He didn’t want to tell her because he didn’t want to worry her. He really loved her, but he didn’t need to show me that—I’ve felt it with every beat of his heart.

Joy lied to me. She took on Luna’s life and made it her own, making me believe her, and I did because…

Fuck…

Realization hits because I need to get the hell out of here.

Tugging at the restraints is useless because my left leg is in plaster. I guess that’s what happens when you’re hit by a car. And my arms are black and blue. I don’t even know how long I’ve been holed up here.

I spit out the gag in my mouth.

“Psst,” I whisper to the person in the bed. “Can you hear me?”

They don’t move.

“Hey!” I say a little louder in case they’re asleep and not in a coma.

Still nothing.

They’re not going to be any help.

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