Page 78 of Jersey

"It would be better if you knew them," he says. "But I understand wanting your privacy. Do you have any questions about the system?"

I shake my head.

"You have the gun?"

I nod, patting my purse.

"It doesn't do you any good if you lock it away. No one is happy that you're coming back here, Dr. Rudd, but I want to suggest you carry it with you everywhere you go for the time being, at least until we figure out who has been creeping on your house. If you feel too overwhelmed, just give us a call and we'll come get you."

"Thank you," I tell him honestly, walking back toward the front door.

He follows, freezing when he opens the front door and finds someone standing on the porch.

I look down at my phone. "I didn't get a notification."

He takes my phone, frowning at the woman there before looking down at the screen.

"It was disarmed. You're good to go now."

"Hi," the woman says. "I'm-"

"A good friend," I interrupt. "Rhonda this is... Zeus."

"The god of sky and thunder," my therapist says as she holds out her hand.

They shake hands, Rhonda seeming a little infatuated with the man already. He seems indifferent as he looks back at me.

"Call us if you need us," he says before walking off the porch and climbing into the SUV idling at the curb.

Dr. Moore grins as she watches them drive away, but her face looks annoyed when she turns to look at me.

"New friends?" she asks as she pulls her jacket tighter around her body.

I sigh, turning to go back inside, knowing I'm not going to get away with not explaining what has happened to me in recent weeks.

"You want something to drink?" I ask after closing the door.

"A hot cup of something would be great," she says as she settles on the sofa like she's been here a million times.

"I didn't know you were making the rounds," I say from the kitchen, knowing that my house is small enough that I don't have to yell to be heard.

"We can make small talk if you want," she says. "It won't stop us from getting to the root of why you've been avoiding my calls and emails."

I roll my lips between my teeth, biting down on them to keep from spitting something I'll regret.

The coffee is done much too quickly, and within minutes I'm sitting across from her, wondering just where to start.

"I've gone to the club many times since the last time we spoke," I begin. "I met a man there, and as it turns out he's connected to my newest client."

"A relative?" she asks, blowing over the top of her coffee to cool it down before taking a tentative sip.

"Not really," I say, knowing I have to skate a fine line to stay within the expectations of the NDA I signed. "My client's father and this man work for the same company."

"You like this man and your inability to be touched is complicating things," she predicts. "Is this the same man we spoke of before, the one who you said your body recognizes in some way?"

"The same man, yes," I answer. "He has touched me."

"At the club while you're tied up?"

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