Page 63 of Love Sick

Before he can stop me, I slap his cheek—hard—leaving behind a red imprint.

He closes his eyes briefly, composing himself as he knows what I’m doing. “I won’t hit you.”

Closing the distance between us, I stand on tippy-toes, but he’s standing at over six foot, so I don’t even reach his chin. “Because you don’t want to hurt me? Too late! You already have.”

I slap his cheek again.

He cups it, moving his jaw from side to side.

“I can do this all day.”

With his reddening cheek and mussed hair, he looks like he’s been in the wars. There’s just one thing we need to add…blood.

Knowing this may be our last kiss, I slam my mouth over his and kiss him with hunger and anger. He scoops me up into his arms, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around his tapered waist. I love the feel of him and I commit it to memory before I bite down on his lip so hard, I draw blood.

He hisses as I pull away, eyes alight as I watch blood trickle down his chiseled chin. I want to lick it away, but I can’t.

The moment I hear Alanna’s frantic footsteps, Dutch lowers me and reaches for the rocking chair. He gestures with his head that I’m to move. The moment I do, he hurls it at the wall, it shattering into a million pieces.

“I was trying to help!” he screams, nodding his head that I’m to go to the corner where the broken chair is.

We’re about to stage a scene, it seems.

I half slump against the wall, gripping my ribs and panting as one would if they were thrown across a room. Alanna runs into the room, stopping and taking in the surroundings. She notices Dutch’s disheveled state and then looks at me, where I am faking injuries as I gasp for breath.

She isn’t convinced, seeing as Dutch held her back when her beloved did a swan dive over the balustrade. But she can’t deny his injuries. And I am a wonderful actress.

I charge for her, ready to claw out her eyes, but Dutch intervenes, just how I knew he would. He pins me to his chest as I fight him wildly.

“I am going to kill you both!” I cry, lunging for Alanna, who actually takes a step back.

Dutch holds me tightly, pretending to be holding me back, but I know if Alanna tries to hurt me, he will have no qualms throwingheroff the balcony. If only it was that easy, but now that Daddy is involved, she has reinforcements.

We have to be smart.

Daddy enters, appearing baffled by the commotion he missed by probably dumping Kyle’s car off a cliff.

Alanna storms forward, ready to pluck out my eyes, and I feel Dutch tense, but it’s Daddy’s voice that stops Alanna.

“Enough, Lana!” he orders sternly. “Parkfields is under the microscope as it is. We can’t have any more bad press. We use Luna as a model patient. We show the board the wonderful work we do. Your great-grandfather didn’t sacrifice it all for you to ruin it!”

I’ve wondered why Alanna, a surgeon, would have such close ties to the hospital. It now makes perfect sense. It seems crazy has run in her family for generations.

“But she needs to pay,” Alanna says, stomping her foot in anger.

I can’t help the laugh which bursts from me. “Temper tantrum much?”

Dutch tightens his hold around me. He’s warning me not to poke the bear.

“And she will, but after we get the medical board off our asses. Okay, sweetheart? We get through this concert, Luna will show them that she’s cured, and then we can put this all behind us.”

“She’s not going to help us,” Alanna scoffs, knowing me too well.

“She will, won’t you, pet?” Daddy says, using that nickname with intent; he wants me to remember my place.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you will go back to Parkfields, and I will ensure you stay there until you’re old and gray, wishing Alanna did kill you, as that would be far more merciful than being locked away for the rest of your life. I’m sure the orderlies are missing you dearly.”

---