I turned away, but when I did I found myself looking straight at Mike. I started to say something apologetic, but he stopped me. “It’s cool, dude,...�� he said, handing me the joint. “Totally cool.” He picked up the wine bottles and the barbecue tongs and walked out. As he did I noticed he was wearing short shorts, too, not cutoffs but not exactly pants, either; more like boxers, and for a second I had the impression he wasn’t wearing underwear. As I took another hit of the joint, the first one. "I think I'm already under this guy's control."Miranda mentally winced. She hoped her friend wasn't talking about mind control. That might indicate Tracy would indeed need therapy. "Do you mean this man has been in contact with you? Has he threatened you?" He hasn't talked to me in the sense that you and I are talking but I feel his presence. Somehow, he is giving me orders and I am obeying his commands. I see the look on your face. 'Bring the strait jacket. Tracy's finally lost it.'" I wasn't. More

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