Tori glared at her.
Great. The group hadn’t officially started yet, and here she was already making enemies.
“Don’t mind her,” Lash said. “Rude is her middle name. She’s not happy unless other people are miserable.”
“Screw you, Lash,” Tori spat. “You don’t know anything about me. You’ve only been here for three sessions.”
“Being here for twenty-four doesn’t make you an expert, either,” Lash snapped back.
“Enough,” a deep voice said from behind them.
Naomi turned in her seat. Standing in the doorway was a man whom she assumed to be Dr. Dantan. She was taken aback at the hateful glare he directed at Lash. She blinked, and the expression on his face was now one of kindness.
“Ah, Naomi,” he said, extending his hand out to her. “I see you found your way here. Welcome.”
“Yes, thank you.” She swallowed as she placed her hand in his. His hand was soft, too soft for someone who looked like he kept himself in such good shape. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She didn’t know what to make of him. He wore a vest over a collared striped shirt, and a suit jacket, making him look like the professional that he was, yet he matched it with a pair of jeans and tired looking loafers. His smile appeared to be sincere and lit his beautiful, angelic face, yet his eyes were hollow. Naomi shivered.
“Dr. Dantan.” Tori stood and sauntered toward him. “You look devilishly handsome.” She traced a black-painted fingernail down and around his open shirt collar. “No tie. Nice.” Turning away, she went to sit between Andrew and Ellen.
Naomi studied Tori with surprise. Tori’s sullen expression vanished, replaced by a sensual look. Andrew didn’t seem to be aware that Tori came to sit next to him. Ellen, however, was visibly uncomfortable.
Dantan brushed a hand through his dark-blond hair and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Tori. Let’s get started, shall we?” He pulled out a cell phone from inside his jacket pocket, tapped on it a few times, and laid it on the coffee table face down.
“Since we have a new member, let me remind everyone about the limits of confidentiality within this group. Everything that is said in this room, stays in this room,” he said.
“That means no blabbing to your Twitter peeps, Ellen,” Tori said.
Ellen’s faced turned red. “I don’t do that.” She looked at Lash as if wanting him to rescue her. “Really, I don’t.”
“Tori, please,” Dantan reprimanded. “If I may?”
Tori waved her hand as if giving him permission to continue.
“There are limits to confidentiality. By law, I’m required to call the authorities if I suspect any of you of—”
“Abusing a child, harming yourself, or harming others,” Andrew, Tori, and Ellen completed Dantan’s sentence in unison. It was obviously something they’d heard more than once.
Lash chuckled but stopped when Dantan scowled.
“It’s good to know some of you are paying attention.” Dantan turned to Naomi. “Do you have any questions? We want to make sure that you feel comfortable sharing in the group.”
Naomi bit her tongue, struggling to keep a straight face. Comfortable? She glanced over at Andrew, who stared intently at his phone. She doubted he would remember anything that was said in the group.
Tori continued to glare at her, obviously jealous of Dantan’s attention to her. Ellen was busy looking at Lash with love-struck eyes. And Lash slumped back into his seat, relaxed. For some reason, it irked the hell out of her.
Naomi plastered a fake smile on her face. “Nope. No questions.”
The next hour and a half went by quickly. Naomi was relieved that, as the new member of the group, she wasn’t expected to share too much about herself. She explained that she had been depressed after her father’s death and her grandmother was worried about her, which was why she came for therapy. Surprisingly, everyone was polite, even Tori, who simply nodded, rubbing her own wrists as she eyed the bandages around Naomi’s.
Naomi was surprised to find that Lash so comfortable with the other members of the group. Unsurprisingly, Ellen leaned forward, captivated, glasses sliding down her nose, when Lash shared a story about his family. He told the others how he was kicked out of the family business for a mistake he had made and how they practically disowned him.
“Tell me, Lash. Who do you miss the most?” Dantan asked.
The room became quiet for a moment, and all eyes turned to Lash. His cocky attitude faded, and the energy in the room shifted.
“Raph”—he cleared his throat—“My uncle, Ralph.” His eyes grew sad. “I guess you could say he’s like a father to me. Well, he’s really the only father-figure I ever had.”
“Is there anyone else you miss?” Dantan’s voice was soft and melodic.