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Never.

His chubby hands smooth over his beige suede jacket. They pat over his gray pants in a nervous gesture.

This quirky, sweet old man act isn’t fooling me. Not when his blue eyes jump around the street, lingering on the building where I live. On the first floor.

Raising my eyebrows, I stick my hands in my pockets. We’re taught not to talk to strangers. For all he knows, he’s a stranger to me.

“Right, I’ll get to it.” His smile widens as his eyes study me. “I’m your brother’s psychiatrist. I work at Berkshire.”

“Oh.” I let my bottom lip hang loose. Let my breath shudder.

A frightened woman would react that way. She’d also need to hide, so I hug my arms around my waist. I do my best even though the lie is lodged in my throat, a huge, uncomfortable lump.

“Do you”—my eyes widen as fake realization dawns on me—“think he’s here? In the city?”

“Miss Talbot.” He presses his glasses up his nose again, his forehead creasing. Whatever he’s searching for, he won’t find it in my expression. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to discuss this? Your home could be better for this type of conversation. You live here, right? At least that’s the information I got from your father.”

This time, my surprise is very fucking real. “You talked to my dad? He told you where I live?”

“Now, now.” His appeasing tone isn’t appeasing me one bit. “There’s no need to get all riled up. He’s worried about you. Everyone is.”

Liar.

My dad worries about one person and one person only. Himself. He doesn’t even care about Kaleb’s mom. He keeps her around for appearance’s sake. His trophy wife.

“You promised him information about me in return, didn’t you?” It’s a hardship to remain calm. To pretend to look scared on top of it. I do it for Kaleb, sneaking glances to the sides. Behind me. “Something good. Something that’ll get me committed.”

Dr. Reynolds eats my act up. His expression softens, forehead smoothing. He clutches onto his shoulder bag.

“Yes. But…” I made him feel at ease, and, in turn, he opened up to me. “I’m afraid that I wasn’t being completely honest with your father. While you’re not my patient, Kaleb is. My most interesting case. Any information I obtain about him is mine.”

Mine.

My hackles rise at his choice of words.

Kaleb is my man. My brother. My soulmate.

He isn’t some circus freak. He isn’t a case study.

The need to bash his therapist’s head against the hood of his car is intense.

“Well, he’s not here. I have no idea where he is.”

“You could be the key to finding him.” My mouth opens to repeat that I have no idea where he is. Dr. Reynolds raises a hand, smile widening. It’s annoying. Condescending. “Rest assured that what we’ll discuss will remain strictly between us.”

“If he ever showed up, it would be my death sentence.” The words flow easily out of me. They’re not really a lie. For a while, I believed them. “He has to hate me for what I did tohim. Letting him rot in there. It’s well within his rights. I deserve his hate.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He approaches me. Closes in on me. A whiff of his cologne has my stomach roiling. He’s a man, and he’s standing too close to me. I back up. “Could we continue this conversation inside? I won’t hurt you. You have my word. All I’m asking for is a few minutes of your time.”

He won’t let this go, persistent fuck. I’m wrung out. Upset. Worried about Kaleb, where he is, if he’s safe.

There are so many things on my to-do list today. I don’t have time for this.

Then again, if I don’t talk to him, will he report back to my dad? Will he ask for backup, hint that I’m hiding Kaleb so he can have an excuse to call more PIs?

He might.

Okay. Fuck. I’ll have to let him in.