Page 21 of The Bad Man

“I love you,” he says as his hold on me tightens.

“I love you too.” I can’t control the sob of relief in my throat.

We hold each other tightly until we have no other choice but to let go. Everything else sort of happens in a blur. But eventually we’re taken out of the room when Dr. Rourk comes over and tells us we’re free to go. I swear it’s like I’m dreaming.

“Like back upstairs? Or out of here?” I sputter.

"I have the power to cut the red tape a bit quicker. Jamison isn’t under arrest, and I’m discharging him, effective immediately.”

“How?” Jamison asks while keeping me tucked in by his side.

“I won’t ask you questions about what really happened in there tonight if you won’t ask me any either.” Jamison gives him a nod in silent agreement. “I take it I won't be seeing you here tomorrow, Mia?”

“Nope,” Jamison answers for me. “Or ever again.”

Dr. Rourk is called away, and then it’s just the two of us standing there alone. Can this really be happening?

“Let’s get out of here.” I look up to stare up into Jamison’s eyes. “Then we can do lots of dirty things.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, and he grins.

“Don’t let seeing me in those cuffs give you any ideas,” he says, and I burst into laughter.

I’m not sure what the hell happened tonight or where we are going from here. The only thing I care about is that Jamison is free. That is the one thing that matters most.

As for me, I’ll never be free. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Epilogue

JAMISON

Seven Years Later

It’s our anniversary tonight. We got married on a different day, but the day I got my freedom from Bellevue Asylum is the one we celebrate each year. It’s the day our lives were really able to begin.

Our kids don’t know the truth about how we met. Or that we spent the first few months of our relationship living in a hotel. We decided a long time ago that they don’t need to know all the details.

When my father was arrested for the murder of Dr. James Crane, all of his assets were frozen and my trust was unlocked. After that, I was able to buy us a home, and we never had to worry about money again.

Eventually there was a trial, and my father was convicted. He’s now serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Dr. Rourk was the one who found out all the dirt on Dr. Crane and my father, and he testified in court. My father tried to appeal, but the second judge said he could be released to Bellevue Asylum to live out the remainder of his sentence and my father declined. For now. I’ve often wondered how he would survive in the same prison he locked me in, but most of the time I forget he exists.

After leaving Bellevue, I went back to school and got my PhD in psychology. I don’t practice much, but every now and then I get a call from Dr. Rourk about a patient. True to my word, I never asked him any questions about how he was able to get me released. He never offered an explanation either, and I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Some boxes are better left shut.

That’s what Mia has taught me over the years. There doesn't have to be an answer for everything, and sometimes knowing still won’t give us the closure we want.

“Jamison?” Mia asks when she finds me in our walk-in closet. “What are you doing in here?”

“Picking out what you’re going to wear tonight.” I take the dress off the rack and drape it across the small couch we have in the middle of our closet.

“You know I love it when you do that.”

She comes over and places her hands on my chest before her fingers go to my tie. She’s just finished her hair and makeup, and I have the urge to mess it up. Even after getting my doctorate degree, I don’t know exactly why I like seeing her that way. Maybe it’s because of what I saw as a child or maybe it’s because when her makeup is smeared it’s because I’ve done it to her.

“Take this off,” I tell her as I tug on her bathrobe.

“Won't we be late for our reservation?” She bites her bottom lip and unties the robe.

“I need to fuck you first.”

She nods as if she understands, and maybe she does. After all these years, she knows me better than I know myself. I guess she always has.