Page 49 of Rather: The Therapist

“Good day, now, Quentin.”

“Have a good day, ma’am.”

I removed the fully-loaded, full-sized Px4 Storm from my purse. With one toggle of the black notch, the SD Type F transformed from dormant weight in the bottom of my Birkin to a deadly piece of machinery.

Patiently, I glossed my lips as I waited to hear the door close behind Quentin. When I was certain he’d gotten to his car safely, the barrel of my gun pierced the air. The gift from Teddy was a soft brown, nearly golden tone and a beast in the field. Without a doubt, it would get the job handled.

The clicking of my heels announced my presence as I stalked each room on the first level. After clearing the backend, I moved toward the kitchen where the smudges on the freshly polished floors caught my attention.

Proven. I’m not insane.

The imperfections were proof of presence in the home other than my own. The flowers were the first piece of evidence. Chemistry made it clear he’d chosen my location, my home, furnished it, and sealed it so entry was forbidden until I arrived. The red roses upon arrival were red fucking flags.

Through the kitchen, around the pantry, and into the laundry room, I followed the trail of faint marks. Because the laundry room was down a small set of steps, it was completely separate from the rest of the house. Still, it was completely finished and useful.

The smell of fresh paint traced the air. Inside, I searched for the continuation of the smudges but came to a dead end. Instantly, the door tightened behind me. Though I’d completely fallen apart inside, I collected myself and moved forward.

From behind the mud rack, darkness arose.

Black top.

Black bottom.

Black shoes.

Black hole.

My life wouldn’t end today, but theirs surely would. I’d always been taught to shoot first and ask for specifics later. And, not from the person on the ground. Because, if they could answer any questions you hadn’t done your job.

Fow!

I fired a shot toward the figure, quickly regretting the discharging of my gun as soon as it sounded. The long frame disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Fear gripped my chest, tightening my throat past the point of discomfort.

As my stomach began to turn and my emotions began to spill from my mouth, I was blessed once more with the fleeting presence.

“Chemi–”

“Good evening, baby.”

“How– How’d you– You were just in–”

“And, now I’m here. If you thought I was sending you off without making sure you were well, then you had it all fucked up, Rather.”

“I didn’t think much, Teddy.”

“Understood. This is a huge step.”

“But, I’m prepared. I’m ready. And, somewhat excited.”

“Good. Good to hear.”

“How’d you get here before me?”

“You took the scenic route. I flew straight here. You didn’t notice the extra forty-five minutes?”

“I was lost in my crafts.”

“Don’t get lost again, Rather. Pay close attention.”

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