Chapter 3

When Doug paused, it took Randal a moment to realize he was expected to respond. He was so short of breath he could only squeak, “Interesting.”

“So, do you think you can help me? The guilt is driving me nuts. I'm afraid my wife'll find out I'm sleeping around and that'd be it—the shit would really hit the fan."

Randal tried to compose himself. He forced himself to lower his voice. He hoped he sounded sexier and less like an adolescent. Had he thought ‘sexier’? No, he had meant ‘more mature’.

“I certainly do believe I can help you.”

There, that was better—voice lower, in control.

“The Lord wants you to be free of this perversion, and certainly He has the power to help you."

“Okay.” Doug sounded hesitant. Had Randal come on too strong?

“Um…do you mind if I ask you something, Randal?”

Randal felt a pang of apprehension. “No,” he said.

“Why were you chosen to be the one to help me? Do you have any special qualifications? You sound pretty young.”