He's so hot, not being afraid of Dad.
"Let's go, Blue," Dad instructs.
I pin my attention on Red, let my fingers trail along the arm of the chair as I stand, and smirk.
His attention stays on me, careful, contained.
"Good night, Dr. Mercer," I say, emphasizing the title.
"Good night, Blue," he replies.
I turn and walk out between my parents, my steps unhurried, my back straight. I don't look back. I don't need to.
The door closes behind us with a soft click.
They think the session ended in that room.
They think I'm going home for the night.
They're wrong.
I step into the hallway with fresh calmness humming under my skin. I know the truth with absolute clarity.
Dr. Mercer just sent me home with the night wide open.
No one speaks as we make our way out of the building and into Dad's car. The ride home is quiet, and all I can think about is what's happening tonight.
Dad grips the steering wheel like it's the only thing anchoring him to the road. Mom keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror, her eyes soft and worried, like she's afraid I'll disappear if she looks away too long. I sit in the back seat with my legs crossed, posture perfect, calm radiating from me in smooth, practiced waves.
The funny part is, they think I'm contained. That's how much they don't know me.
Dad pulls up to the curb. He kills the engine and exhales hard through his nose.
Mom turns halfway in her seat. "Maybe you should stay at our house?"
"No. I'm good. Thanks!" I reach for the door.
She continues, "Okay. I guess we'll talk more in the morning. Tonight, just…try to rest and relax."
"I will," I say easily, jumping out of the car. And it's not a lie. I plan on relaxing, but not how they imagine.
I disappear inside the building before they attempt to kidnap me and take me to their place. I unlock my door and step into my silent, familiar, and boring apartment.
I kick off my shoes, drop my purse on the counter, and head straight for my bedroom closet. The mirror greets me like an old accomplice. My reflection stares at me, serene, composed, and bright-eyed with something sharp and alive.
I tear off my dress, then stare at my body in the red silk and lace lingerie. The lingerie hugs me perfectly, every strap sits where I want it, every line is a reminder that I chose this. I grab my tallest heels and slide my feet into them. I turn in the mirror, decide my booty looks fabulous, and tug the dress over my head. Then I smooth it in place before packing an overnight bag.
I grab my coat, my keys, and leave.
On the way to Red's, I stop at the meat market. I select two oversized, well-marbled rib eyes, a bottle of expensive Scotch I saw in his place, and twice-baked potatoes.
I'm not hungry, but if Red wants me to eat, I'll eat for him.
The drive to his place feels like crossing a threshold. Streetlights blur past the city, hushed and complicit. My hands stay steady on the wheel, my mind clear.
This isn't impulse. This is follow-through,I tell myself.
I park a block away, just like I've imagined. The night air brushes cool against my skin as I walk, my heels clicking hard on pavement. His condo unit comes into view, dark except for a single light glowing near the kitchen. I glance at my watch and stay in the shadows. Like clockwork, he steps out of the building in his running gear and takes off in the opposite direction.
