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“About two hours northwest of here. It’s not too far from Lake Superior.”

Once the feeling returns to my feet, I gingerly sit up. After a second, I carefully stand up. My gaze slides to him, but he justwatches me warily, not saying anything. My full bladder protests again and I finally start walking toward the bathroom.

Shutting the door behind me, I exhale hard and take care of my business. I eye the shower longingly, but there’s no way I’d strip and become even more vulnerable in front of Dr. Ashcroft. As I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror. The area around my left eye is already red and is starting to swell from him slapping me. My hair is disheveled from being in that sack for who knows how long and then sleeping on it. After smoothing it down and running my fingers through it, I tuck my hair behind my ears and then quickly do a side braid. Ever since I started working at the supper club, I’ve always carried a hair tie around my wrist, so I’m able to keep my hair somewhat tamed. Honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t take it off when they tied me up.

A sparkle catches my eye, and another breath of relief flows through me when I realize I have on my earrings as well as my necklace from Python. I glance back down at my wrists and tension bleeds out of my shoulders at seeing both sets of bracelets still on my wrists, the ones from Levi and Python. Then my anger comes back when I see the bruises around my wrists. Fuck. I bet my ankles have them too. Glancing down, I realize I’m not wearing my boots anymore, but since I saw my purse on the desk, I’m going to bet my boots are here as well. Somewhere.

“Lark?” Dr. Ashcroft calls as he knocks on the door.

Exhaling heavily, I square my shoulders as I look at my reflection in the mirror.

“You can do this, Lark. As long as he doesn’t have something to block the transmissions, Python can track you. Anthony is coming for you,” I whisper to myself and then open the door. “Sorry, was just trying to freshen up.”

His face softens and his gaze goes to where he hit me. “I’m sorry, Lark. I’m really not a violent person. Let me get you a cold cloth.”

Yeah right, you’re not a violent person, I think to myself as I internally scoff. I don’t buy that for a second.

Suddenly feeling sluggish from the drugs they gave me earlier, I walk to the bed I was laying on before and sit down. He comes back with the washcloth, and I reluctantly take it, pressing it gingerly to my eye. I wince as the rough material makes contact with my sore skin, and I’m surprised to see him flinch at the action.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him more questions, but instead, I lay down and press the cloth closer to my face, lowering my eyes so that I’m no longer looking at him. He sighs, but I don’t give a shit. He’s the one that’s trying to dictate my future. The one keeping me here against my will.

“You really don’t remember me, do you?”

My temper flares and I sit back up, dropping the washcloth. “Oh, I remember you perfectly. You’re the asshole that thinks going into a touchy profession, such as being a therapist, is a great career move for someone as dark and twisted as you. You got off on getting into my head and filling it with lies and causing a major panic attack. You’re the asshole who thinks it’s okay to stalk people! You’re the asshole who thinks he has a fucking right to decide aspects of my life!”

His face falls and unease pricks my skin.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies quietly, and I frown but then my lip curls when he remains silent.

“So, you don’t deny you’re an asshole who’s done all that?”

His gaze slides sideways and he swallows thickly. “Psychology class in college,” he replies instead of answering me and I frown, not knowing where he’s going with this. “The group project towards the end of the semester.”

My frown deepens as I wrack my brain, trying to remember the project he’s referring to. Personally, I hated my psych class, but as a business student, it was part of the required classes. I look him over closer, and my stomach sinks. Realization slams into me as I remember his name and I fight to keep my limbs from shaking.

Darren Ashcroft.

A dark gleam enters his eyes, and I know that he knows I remember him now.

He was scrawnier back then. Also, his beady, dark brown eyes were hidden behind chunkier glasses, but they did little to hide the twisted gleam in his eyes when we were discussing the darker side of the psyche. Back then, Darren had asked me out repeatedly, but I told him I was already seeing someone. It started with letters, poems, and little packages that were mailed to me. I’d freaked out and of course, my boyfriend at the time, Denny, decided I’d gotten to be too much of a hassle with how on edge I’d become and dumped me.

It dawns on me that Darren must have been the one sending them. Denny was my first serious boyfriend and I thought, at the time, he might have been the one. Now that I think about it though, Denny started acting differently around me about the same time as when the first letter was delivered.

A couple of days after Denny dumped me, Darren started asking me out again, repeatedly. Each time, I told him no. Then finally, I’d gotten extremely fed up and told him that I didn’t see him that way, that I’d never see him that way, and for him to leave me alone.

“You were behind Denny breaking up with me.” I don’t ask, it’s a statement.

That wicked gleam in his eyes gets brighter. “You were meant to be mine all along. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I got a degree in a respectable field. Once I built a name for myself,I moved to this fucking backwater town because I knew you’d never leave your family. Unfortunately, you were engaged at the time, so I helped my client gain the courage to go after the man she loved.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Kelly was one of your clients?”

He smirks and anger simmers in my veins.

“How long have you been manipulating my life?” I seethe.

“Denny was the first one, but since then, yes, I’ve gotten rid of all the competition.”

“You’re fucking sick if you think I’ll ever be with someone who manipulates me, hurts me, and tries to control every aspect of my life.”