"So how are you doing?"

"Relax mother hen, things are finally getting better. The beach is doing wonders for me."

Thank whoever for that. Several times I was worried the girl was going to slit her wrists. Never a good thing when you have to watch you only friend mentally breakdown.

"Good, I am glad things are looking up. You had me worried there for a bit."

"Yeah it got ugly there for a while but...the nightmares are still there and I can't seem to shake them." I could still hear the devastation in her voice and I hated that.

"Harley, don't force it. Give yourself time to heal. You will get there."

"I am seeing a shrink, well not yet but I have an appointment with someone that specializes in victims of violent crimes. I figured I qualified in that category...what do you think?"

Christ I think it was about fucking time. I was glad that Harley was finally taking control of her life. "I think that is a great idea. Get it all out there and leave it behind, or whatever they teach you, what the hell do I know. It couldn't hurt right?"

"Yeah, that was what I was thinking. So enough about my depressing shit, how are you? Did you get a nice tan? Find any surfers to surf your pussy?"

Wasn't that the million dollar question? After my colorful phone conversation with Agent Timmons, I locked up my shit and flew to Hawaii for a month. Like Harley said, the beach did wonders for me.

"In fact yes I am sporting a great fucking tan. No to the surfers...they all seemed either too young or too...wrong. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, maybe I spent too much time relaxing on the beach."

"Maybe it is about Mac..."

"Don't start Harley, the man called me a robot. Trust be I am not harboring anything for that man."

"And you say I am the one in denial..."

Bitch.