Page 73 of Love Sick

When I get to the kitchen, I see there’s a fresh pot of coffee, but Alanna isn’t anywhere to be seen. I don’t know where she is, but it’s clear Daddy is the one calling the shots. I pour myself some coffee and wait for him to speak.

“Lana isn’t a bad person. She’s just…always had a creative imagination.”

“I suppose it takes a special kind of person to want to perform a transplant on a dead person,” I sarcastically say. “I don’t want to know about you or Alanna. I don’t care. I’m here because I have no choice. Luna and I will do what you want, but so help me God, if you fuck us over, I will kill you both.”

Daddy laughs, appearing surprised by my candidness. “Shame that we need one another alive then because it seems we’re thinking the same thing. Do what you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself, but I nod in response.

“Do I need to remind you of what happens if you don’t?”

“Listen, asshole,” I spit, eyeing him something wicked. “I don’t take too kindly to threats. If you piss me off, I’ll have no issues finishing what I started. We good?”

Daddy’s jaw clenches, but he knows I’m not playing. “I really wish she killed you.”

“Me too, grandpa.” I finish my coffee and leave the room because this conversation is done.

I decide to play some piano, seeing as our survival fucking depends on it. Candles flicker, lighting the room in a Gothic glimmer. It’s the perfect scenery to play. I hate that this has become my norm as I sit at the piano and the music flows from me with ease.

This is what it was like before the operation, where music came to me without thought because it was a feeling I transformed into song. The piece of music I’ll play for the musical board will be a fucking masterpiece because it may well be the last thing I ever play.

Luna has made clear it’s do or die, and I am all in.

Once I play the final note, I realize that Luna stands a few feet away, watching me.

She’s wearing my white T-shirt which sits just above her knees. Her hair sits in a tangled mess and I remember what we did for it to get that way. My cock instantly stirs.

“That was beautiful,” she says in awe.

“There’s something a lot more beautiful than that,” I reply, smiling at her.

She walks over as I shuffle backward so she can sit on my lap. The moment she does, I gently bite her shoulder which is exposed, thanks to my T-shirt hanging off her.

“Music is an extension of you,” she states, clearly being able to see the close connection I share with it when I played. “No wonder you would have done anything to hear it again.”

“Almost anything,” I correct, because I need her to know that I would never do anything with Alanna for the sake of my music. Been there, done that, and it was a fucking nightmare.

Luna leans back into my chest with a sigh. “I was thinking about what you said, about Misha’s license being here. It makes sense that Alanna might have been his dealer.”

I wrap my arms around her waist. “This is so fucked up. She has destroyed so many lives.”

“She has, and we have to sit back and play nice. I can’t do it.”

“Luna—”

“No, I don’t care about the repercussions. As long as that bitch dies, I will happily accept whatever fate I deserve.”

“I know, baby, but all in good time. I know it feels like we’re doing nothing, but we’re at a disadvantage now.”

Luna is quiet, which is never a good thing. “Why has she done this? All of this?”

I mull over her question and answer the only way I know how. “I think because she’s lonely.”

Luna waits for more, but there is no more. Alanna wants to be loved and will find that love any way she can. It doesn’t make sense to us, but we’re not mentally unhinged.

“She’s love sick,” she mutters under her breath, as if deep in thought. “Well, we’re going to give her so much fucking love, she’s going to choke on it.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I am so confused.

---