Page 28 of Love Sick

That’s not a no.

Alanna tosses Joy’s heart onto her cooling corpse and wheels her from the room, humming happily, while I wonder what I will have to sacrifice to get the fuck out of here.

Ithink I would enjoyCasablancaif not for the fact that I am held prisoner in this fucking wheelchair.

I need to get out of here, and the only person who can help me is Old Timer. I just need to find something I can bribe him with.

Fragments of my memory are returning piece by piece. It’s so surreal to relearn what you were like, to relive what you once lived. There are still black holes I cannot remember, like who the fuck did this to me?

I know it’s a woman, however.

I just don’t know who.

Or why.

Misha and Dutch, I remember. I may not recall every detail, but I remember I loved them deeply. And that’s all I need to know.

Subtly peering around the theater, I look for a way out. There’s a memory scratching at the surface, but I can’t remember what it is.

Frustrated, I slump into my chair, wishing I could move.

Noah places his hand onto my leg, rubbing gently, but in that touch is nothing but satisfaction that he has me where he wants me and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” he whispers into my ear.

That is the last thing I want. I need to find Old Timer.

Before I have a chance to object, Noah unlocks the brakes and wheels me away.

Helplessly, I look from left to right, desperate for someone to help me. But there’s no one. I hate being vulnerable this way.

I peer at the crucifix above the doorway and pray for some sort of miracle because that is what I need.

I want to scream out for help, but I know that won’t achieve a thing.

When we pass a young woman with a cat finger puppet, the cat hisses at Noah. He merely chuckles in response. But when a slanted grin twists on her face, I realize the joke is on him.

One moment the room is lit up with the moving pictures on the screen and then the next, we’re shrouded in darkness, thanks to the power going off. There is a deadly silence before the room erupts into pandemonium.

The panicked screams of my fellow friends pierce through the air, disliking the darkness while me, I see this as my out.

Orders are barked over Noah’s walkie-talkie to get the flashlights from storage. The longer we remain with no light, the more frantic things will become. I can hear the soles of his shoes squeak on the floor as he retreats, leaving me unmanned.

This is my chance…but I can’t move, thanks to the leather straps tied around my waist and chest. I’m about to cry out for someone to untie me, but I smell cigarette smoke and it calms me.

“I gotcha, darlin’.”

Old Timer is the hero in my story as he quickly unfastens the straps. The moment I’m free, I spring up, ready to flee.

“Go to the projection booth. Open the door and follow the tunnel, which veers to the far right. I think he is there. Don’tcha ever come back here unless it’s to burn this place to the ground.”

Although that’s not the best endorsement, I’m willing to take the risk. I’m not sure if I will see Old Timer again, so I plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Why are you helping him?”

“Because he risked his life to save my daughter.”

“Who is your daughter?” I ask with a gasp.

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