Dr. Gillis tapped her pen on the notepad and reached into her desk for the recorder. She waited for the red light. “Go ahead, Mr. Santos, whenever you’re ready.”

“You don’t have to be so damn formal. You can call me Kyron, Dr. Gillis.” He sat back and relaxed on the velvet couch.

Dr. Gillis took a deep breath, “Kyron, let’s be clear. I cannot complete my assessment if you are not open with me. And if I don’t submit a report, you will be in violation of your parole. So, tell me what I need to hear. The ball is in your court, Mr. Santos.” Dr. Gillis folded her arms across her chest.

“Kyron. Call me Kyron.”

“I’m listening, Kyron. Listening for inconsistencies. For embellishments . . . half-truths. For—”

“I get the picture, Dr. Gillis.”

He stared into the judgmental eyes of Dr. Gillis, the New York State Department of Corrections psychologist. Mari beat everybody out when it came to being a controlling and thirsty bitch. Threatening to send him back to prison and putting his livelihood on the line, just so she could hear about how good he fucked another bitch? That was insane to Kyron.

And it pissed him off that the two of them with all this clout were working together against him. His pride said, “Fuck both of ’em, get up and walk out.” But that would send the police to his front door.

“Fine, Mr. Santos. You give me no choice.” Dr. Gillis stood and grabbed her purse, signaling that the session was over.

“Chill the fuck out, doc!” He half rose out of his seat but decided to sit back down to learn just how far Mari and Dr. Gillis were taking this charade. “You know you got a nigga caught between a rock and a hard place? I’m trying to wrap my head around this whole situation.” He waved his hand around her sparsely decorated office as if he held a magic wand.

“What do you mean this whole situation?” She did that sista neck roll and immediately realized that he was bringing out the little ghetto girl in her.

“Y’all two hos think y’all the puppet master or some shit like that. Is that why my lawyer ain’t here? I understand that for now y’all got a nigga boxed in, and I ain’t got no choice in the matter. So, let’s do this. Where do you want me to start?”

Dr. Gillis looked Kyron over for any hints of insincerity. She had known Mari for years, including the intimate and private details of her relationship with him. If her best friend wanted answers—or better yet needed answers, then dammit, she sure as hell better get them! She knew that.