The guard and the concierge don’t even question me as I head straight for the elevator. I’ve often found if you exude confidence and look like you know where you’re going, you don’t get hassled. I guess in this particular case, it also helps that I look like I could bench their combined body weight. My insides are humming as I ride the elevator up to Newan’s floor. I don’t know if it’s excitement or dread cycling through me, but whatever it is, I feel like I’m gonna throw up. Fucking ridiculous.
When I reach Newan’s door, I make myself pause. Is this a great idea? The last time Sloane came here, the bitch turned her over to the DEA. Admittedly, she didn’t believe anything bad was going to happen to her friend; she did it because she wanted Sloane to hand me over. There’s little stopping her from making that phone call again. So no, I suppose it’s a seriously terrible fucking idea, but I have to risk it. Sloane is worth it. It feels like there’s a lot riding on this. I ball up my fist and thump it hard against the solid wood door.
I wait.
Nothing.
Maybe she isn’t home. I’m reaching into my pocket for my lock-picking tools—nothing says surprise! like a convicted felon waiting for you in the dark—when there’s a soft scraping on the other side of the door. There’s a spyhole in the door, but I don’t cover it up. I step back so the good doctor can get a good look at who’s on her doorstep.
“What the hell do you want?” Newan snaps through the door.
I shrug my shoulders. “Your help.” That’s putting it as plainly as I possibly can. “You offered your services not so long ago. I was hoping that offer still stood.”
There’s a long pause while Newan takes this in. She laughs. “You kidnapped me and handcuffed me to a toilet.”
“You betrayed your friend. You earned that.”
More silence. “What makes you think I’d risk letting you inside this apartment? Alone? How do I know you’re not here to kill me?”
“If I were here to kill you, I wouldn’t have fucking knocked. If you don’t want to let me inside your apartment, Dr. Newan, then we can easily talk through the door. I’m fine with that.”
A distinct stillness develops. The kind that makes me think Newan’s slipped away from the door—maybe to grab her phone? Perhaps Lowell will be here sooner than I’d hoped. “What do you think, Newan?” I ask.
I’m surprised when she answers right away, and louder than before. She hasn’t gone anywhere. “Tell me why. Tell me why you want to do this now.”
“Because I don’t want to hurt her. Because I want to make her happy.” These are two of the truest statements that have ever passed my lips. I’ve never meant anything more. There’s a pause, and then the gentle clicking of a lock being turned. The door opens an inch, revealing a suspicious-looking Pippa Newan. She’s in her PJs, her hair in a messy knot on top of her head. For all the time she spends making herself look so polished and immaculate, she’s far more attractive like this. I can actually see why a guy might check her out. Maybe.
“Stay right there,” she tells me.
I take a step back away from the door, leaning back against the opposite wall. I show her my hands—no weapons. She opens the door a little wider and leans against the framework. “You’re never going to be able to make this work, Zeth,” she informs me.
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re a control freak, and participating in therapy means you have to hand over control to another person. Or at least concede that someone else might be better equipped to deal with a situation than you are.”
I haven’t thought of it like that before, but I suppose she’s right. Maybe that’s why I was so fucking offended when she tried to bribe me into her session room the first time I came back into Sloane’s life. “I can admit you’re qualified to help me. Isn’t that enough?”
She narrows her eyes at me. Folds her arms across her chest. “Maybe. Wait here.” She backs away, not turning her focus from me until she’s disappeared into the shadows of her unlit apartment. I do as she says and don’t move a muscle. When she returns, I can’t keep the smile from my face. She’s got a Taser. She holds it up so I can see it clearly. “If we’re going to do this, I’m going to have this on me at all times. You understand that I will shoot you and call the cops without a second thought, right?”
“Yes. I understand.”