Page 31 of Journey

I shoot to my feet. “What? But… why? How?”

“Sit down, Wren,” she orders. “Remember that this is a safe space.”

My chest heaves, but I do as she says and sit. “Why would he come see you? How does he even know about you?”

“From what I could gather, he wanted to know more about you.” She holds her hand up to keep me silent. “Now, I didn’t tell him anything. I would never do that. But I thought you should know.”

“I don’t understand,” I cry. “What does he want from me? When I said I saw him again, I didn’t specify that it happened twice.” I tell her about our encounters, about his vow to not give up, and about the fact that I’m pretty sure he witnessed a switch.” I take a deep breath before launching into a recount of the package on my doorstep. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“And you think the package was from him?”

“Who else would it be? The note said the same thing that he said to me in the store.”

“Okay. Let’s back up a bit and take things one at a time, okay?” she suggests, and I nod. “When you initially saw Journey again, how did it make you feel?”

I shrug. “I guess I was excited, which scared me.”

“Why did it scare you?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” I counter. “I’m broken, Doc. All I have to give is good sex.”

“That’s not true,” she insists. “Wren, your diagnosis is not who you are.”

I laugh humorlessly. “Uh, I’m pretty sure my diagnosis is exactly that.”

“You know what I mean. Plenty of people with Dissociative Identity Disorder live normal lives and have normal relationships. Your disorder doesn’t have to define your life.”

“I don’t think a relationship with the man who’s stalking me is exactly smart.”

“Probably not,” she agrees. “But he’s not the only man out there.”

He’s the only one who’s stuck around long enough for me to be confused as hell.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Even if I do like him, he’s a biker. I’d never fit in with his lifestyle. And that’s assuming he isn’t a threat to me like his stalking suggests.”

“You keep saying he’s stalking you,” she points out. “Have you made a police report?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed?

“I… Well…” I lower my head and fiddle with my hands. “Because he’d never actually hurt me.”

Dr. Young clears her throat, but I refuse to look at her.

“Kirby?” she asks. “No, wait… Annie?”

“Kirby hasn’t been around lately,” I say. “He’s afraid of the biker guy. But I’m not.”

“So it is you, Annie.” I nod, and Dr. Young continues. “You’ve met Journey?” Again, I nod. “And you’re not afraid of him?”

“No. He promised he would always protect me.”

“He did?”

Finally, I lift my head. “Yeah. He said he’s not a liar, so he can make promises. He also didn’t let Daddy hurt me or Wren, so he’s nice.”

---