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How was I supposed to know that my former psychologist was a halfling who has decided that he wants to shack up with me?
Living in his office inside of the asylum is one thing. Moving with him who knows where, leaving the last place that my parents know I was at… being forced into a place that he gleefully says is warded and protected so that I’ll never be able to escape.
I believe him, too.
He has almost three hundred years on me. Countless lifetimes of experience. He knows how to glamour. He probably knows how to use the touch against me.
But I’m the damn Shadow—and I want it more.
I only had a couple of hours to figure out what to do. It’s rough. Between not eating enough and definitely not getting enough sleep, my head feels hazy even though the sugar kind of helped. I have to force myself to think, knuckling my burning eyes when it seems useless.
Before I know it, I’ve run out of time.
“Are you ready?”
His blue eyes gleam in excitement, his bushy, red eyebrows rising sky-high as he looks me over. My skin crawls under his examination. He smiles as if he likes what he sees.
Probably because I’ve traded my hoodie and my pants for the pale blue nurses’ scrubs he left for me earlier.
I have to play nice. So long as he keeps me behind the cursed circle, I’m stuck. So, pulling myself off of the ground, I get to my feet unsteadily, shuffling closer to him. I keep my arms crossed over my chest, a scowl on my face as I nod.
“The scrubs work perfectly. No one will stop us on our way to the car.”
Here’s hoping I don’t get that far.
First things first. I’m still stuck in here. Jerking my chin at the line I just can’t cross, I ask, “I changed like you wanted. Now how do you get me out of here?”
“It’s simple enough.” He holds out his hand. “You have to let me touch you.”
I flinch. Can’t help it, either.
Gillespie laughs.
“Oh, Riley. And I thought you said you weren’t haphephobic.”
I remember that. In our opening session, he accused me of having haphephobia. My immediate reaction back then had been to deny it.
I do the same thing now since he obviously expects me to.
“I’m not afraid.”
“Oh? Then you won’t mind taking my hand.” He extends it a little further. His fingers brush up against the invisible barrier that separates us.
“So I grab your hand—”
“And I pull you out. It’s as simple as that.”
For someone who’s been conditioned her entire life not to willingly touch anyone, it isn’t. Especially since I know that Gillespie is part fae. Touch magic… it could never be as simple as he’s making it out to seem.
And that’s when it hits me.
I know what I have to do.
I just hope it works.
“Okay.” I nod. My tangled hair, the last of my knotted braids, falls forward as I slowly bob my head up and down. “Anything to get out of here.”
I lift my hand, pressing the edge of my glove to the invisible barrier. Right as the tip of the leather begins to burn, Gillespie takes my fingers into his grip and pulls.
