Page 112 of Love Sick

“I love you, Bowie.”

“I love you, Misha.”

I toss the lighter into the fluid which ignites the room into blistering flames. We stand hand in hand, watching it engulf the room—no more pain. No more sorrow.

Bowie and Misha are no more.

Hell has finally come home.

I’m always nervous.

I don’t know why. He always plays like an angel. With that dirty blond hair falling over that chiseled face, shielding those bright blue eyes, he is a vision from above.

The way his ringed fingers touch over the keys like a lover’s caress lulls the audience into the palms of his hands.

The night Parkfields burned to the ground was the beginning of our new lives.

Old Timer was able to save the people, but Parkfields thankfully didn’t foresee the same fate.

The townsfolk didn’t help douse the flames—they watched it burn, the eyesore they never wanted finally dead and buried where it belonged.

Dutch and I were thrown a curveball, one which saved us—Dominic traced Kyle’s phone, which was outside the house of horrors. Kyle told him everything, and that’s when the DA swooped in and saved the day.

He knew what we had done, and I was ready to be punished for my crimes. But it seems fate smiled on me that night because when Dutch told Dominic of our plan, he said he could make this go away. It was the least he could do because we protected his son.

We could expose Alanna, but he was worried the police would dig and if they dug too deep, our crimes would be found. Because Dutch and I are far from innocent in this story.

There are so many players in this intricate tale, but they’re all dead. All that remains is us.

We survived.

They didn’t.

The end.

And that was enough for Dutch and me because sometimes, life gives you a miracle when you least expect it.

“Daddy,” says the blond bundle of joy in my lap as he points his chubby little finger toward the stage.

“Yes, that’s right, Bowie. Daddy is about to play.”

Our son was born from nothing but love, regardless of the circumstances in which he was conceived. He is our miracle…as is Bobby, who we’ve adopted. We have Old Timer and his daughter, Katerina’s blessing.

My family was taken away in a heartbeat…only to be reborn within another.

I will always love Misha. He is the reason for this all. And his memory will never be forgotten. Dutch made sure of that when he penned a book in honor of him.

Simply titledHeart Sick, Dutch details the heart memory transfer phenomenon which was an instant bestseller. Medical boards from all over the world wanted to study Dutch because of how rare he is, but he made clear he is no one’s lab rat—well, not ever again.

Misha is never forgotten because people from all over the world have read his story through Dutch’s eyes.

Dutch kept his word to Alanna and protected her even in death. No one knows what she did. What would it matter anyway? What repercussions can the dead get?

Her body was found, and Dominic smoothed the scandal over. With Parkfields no more, the patients were moved to a hospital that cared for them how they deserved. I know because I volunteer there. I never want anyone to suffer the way I did.

I may not have exposed the secrets of Parkfields, but I’ll be damned if I stand back and allow it to happen again.

If anyone knew our story, I know they would see us as the villains as well as the heroes.

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