Page 30 of Journey

“She won’t,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “Dr. Young won’t even know I’m digging for information.”

“How do ya figure?”

“I made an appointment under Sam Lincoln. The good doc thinks I’m a new patient.”

“Of course, you’d use your legal name.”

“It’s not like I can use Journey. I’m not fucking Prince.”

“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what name you use. What you’re doing is unethical.”

“Because we live such an ethical life,” I snort.

“I hope, for your sake, you know what you’re doing,” he says as he opens the passenger door. “Good luck.”

It takes a little over an hour to get to Austin due to traffic, and my conversation with Ghost plays on a loop in my head as I drive. Maybe he’s right, and this is a fucked idea, but I’m running out of options.

After parking, I make my way inside the building and look at the directory to see which floor Dr. Young is on. Before I know it, I’m walking into her waiting room, which is empty. There’s no receptionist, so I take a seat and wait.

Five minutes pass before a door opens, and two women step out.

“I’ll see you next week,” the older of the two says. She waits until the patient leaves, and then looks at me. “Sam?”

I rise to my feet and thrust my hand out to shake hers. “Yep, that’s me.”

“Give me a few minutes, and then we can get started.” I sit back down to wait some more, and I replay the cover story I came up with until the door opens again. “Come on in.”

I follow her into the room and am surprised to see it set up cozier than I expected.

“Have a seat,” she instructs. Once I’m across from her, she lifts a pad of paper from the small table next to her chair and rests it on her lap. “So, what brings you here?”

I open my mouth to recite my cover story, but none of those details are what comes out of my mouth. Instead, I blurt the one thing guaranteed to get me into hot water.

“What can you tell me about Wren Abbott?”

CHAPTER 16

WREN

Remember, Wren… a biker is a biker is a biker. They’re all the same.

“How haveyou been since your last appointment?”

My leg bounces, vibrating the couch in Dr. Young’s office. It’s been two days since I saw Journey at the grocery store and got that package, and I’ve been full of nervous energy ever since. Coming here is the first time I’ve left my apartment since then, and I was looking in the rearview mirror the entire drive. It’s a wonder I made it here alive.

“Wren, what is it?” she asks when I don’t respond. “Did something happen?”

“What?”

“You seem distracted,” she says. “Did something happen that is upsetting you?”

I shake my head as I rest my hand on my thigh, silently willing it to stop bouncing.

“Wren?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” I wring my hands in my lap and make a snap decision. “I saw Journey again.” Dr. Young tenses at my statement, and I hone in on that. “What?”

She leans forward and levels me with a look that makes my anxiety deepen. “Before you go any further, there’s something I need to tell you. But before I do, I want you to remember that you’re in a safe space.” I open my mouth but no words come out, so she continues. “Journey came to see me yesterday.”

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