“A very weird energy is coming off of you lately. What gives?”
“I…” This might be the right time and place. The partition is up, so the driver shouldn’t be able to hear us…I think. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being…watched by someone.”
“You think?”
“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe it’s all in my head, another side effect of my PTSD. But there’s more.”
“More?”
“The idea of being watched…I think, I like it.” I cringe at my confession.
“You like it.”
“I mean, the idea ofsomeone,perhaps in a mask, spying on me is sort of a little scary, but not like ahhhh! Japanese-horror-movie scary, just…exciting scary. I mean…should be creepy, right? But it isn’t. Am I going nuts?” My word vomit comes to an end.
“In a mask?”
“Stop repeating my words,” I raise my voice, exasperated by Lori’s behavior.
“Chill your beans, mate. Now it’s my time to process your dirty kinks.”
Oh my gods! Lori needs to process? Lori? “Am I an absolute weirdo?” I murmur, biting my lip in thought.
“I would hope so, life is so much better when you wear the weirdo glasses. So weird it out, Sully-doo, go all the way!”
I sigh. “But what do you think about the odd sensation of being watched? Stalked? Spied on?”
“I’m pretty sure that if someone was spying on you, Ramiel will know, because Serena will tell him. The super, mega intelligent AI who’s watching over you twenty-four seven. Ohhh, maybe your stalker is Serena!” he jokes.
I ignore it. “So, you think it’s impossible.”
“It most assuredly is.” He nods.
“It must be all in my head then.” Should I feel relieved? Well, I’m not. Quite the opposite, actually. “I thought I was getting better. Maybe it’s time to find another therapist.”
“Why? Because you liked the idea of having a stalker so much you thought you had one?” He huffs. “I have my own personal snooping kit in my car because I’m always down for a stalkingsession. Ramiel is a hacker which is just another word for supreme stalker. Raph rarely leaves Michael’s side—talk about separation anxiety.”
“What are you trying to say? That we are all out of our minds?”
“Yes. Everybody is a little insane. It’s not a competition. If you feel like having professional help is what you need, then we’ll find you the best. Stop with the self-deprecating behavior. You’ve come so far, Sully. We are all in awe of you. I’m in awe.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it affectionately. “Please believe me when I say that…you are not the only one with a hard-on for stalkers or masks. Cuffs are pretty hot too.”
A snort leaves my lips at Lori’s attempt at lightening the mood. His words do comfort me somehow, but not all the way. Am I really imagining him?
“Yeah. Who wouldn’t dig a dude wearing a white mask, right?” I half joke.
“White mask?” A line forms between his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m having sort of hot dreams about him, too,” I tell him.
“I see. Well, you are preaching to the choir. Did I ever tell you about that dream where I was marrying a human-sized banana?”
“No.”
“Six feet of sweet pulp waiting to be peeled off. Yum! Sully, yum!”
“Gag, Lori, gag,” I give back, but the asshole keeps talking.
“Especially when drops of whipped cream started coming down from the sky…what do you think that meant?”
