Kristie nodded her head toward a girl I recognized from the front desk of the university’s library. The girl looked down at her name tag and pointed at it with a shy smile. “I’m Marissa. I’m a sophomore, and I’ve struggled with an addiction to Ritalin for almost two years,” she said quickly, as though she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth fast enough.

Kristie smiled. “We’re glad you’re here, Marissa,” she said sincerely. It continued like that around the circle. There was Kyle, the frat guy. I was surprised to hear that he had been busted for cocaine possession twice and was worried about losing his football scholarship. Looking at him, you’d see an athletic jock who lived for a good time. I would never have suspected he struggled with something like that.

Then there were Lisa and Twyla, the sorority girls, who were best friends but also found themselves addicted to methamphetamines to stay awake so they could get their homework done. There was Josh, who smoked pot so often he was failing most of his classes. Gigi, who liked to dabble in ecstasy on the weekends. Grant and Vince, who liked painkillers. And Lynette, who found herself addicted to Percocet after her knee surgery last year.

Then Kristie turned to the hostile couple, who had become more and more agitated as everyone introduced themselves.

“What about you two? What do the two of you hope to get out of the group?” Kristie asked kindly. The girl looked at her hand, which was still smothered by her boyfriend’s larger grasp. She didn’t look up, her bright pink hair covering her eyes.

The guy’s lips thinned, and he was silent for so long I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to say anything. Then finally he gritted his teeth and said in a barely audible voice, “I’m Evan, and this is April. We just want to put the hours in and get this shit over with.”

I looked over at Kristie. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly, but I noticed it all the same. These two were going to be hard to deal with. Kristie looked at April, who seemed to shrink in on herself. The dynamic between the pair was downright disturbing.

“Do you agree, April? Are you only here to put in the required hours? Or is there something more you’re hoping to learn?” The pink-haired girl shook her head. After a few moments, Kristie realized she wasn’t going to get anything out of an obviously mute April.

Which left the blond and blue-eyed boy whose name tag on the front of his shirt read “Maxx.” Kristie seemed relieved to turn her focus to him. He had sat quietly during the introductions, playing the role of the model group member. He made sure to act interested while the others talked, but I couldn’t shake the sense that he really didn’t give a shit, that for him this was all a game and he knew what part he had to play.

“Finally, the last member of the group. Why don’t you tell us a little bit about why you’re here,” Kristie said. His grin was deceptively benign, but his eyes revealed a different story altogether. I just wished I knew what that story was.

The other girls in the group were completely transfixed by him. I had read a book once about cult leaders who were able to control a room with a smile or a gesture. They had a charisma about them that made people lay down their lives for them. I had always thought that was ridiculous; no one could be so magnetic that people would happily follow them off the edge of the world if they were asked to.

Looking at Maxx and the way the entire room gravitated toward him, I finally understood it. And the scary thing was that it was obvious he knew the power he had. And he enjoyed it.

Despite my less-than-friendly feelings toward the mysterious boy, I couldn’t help my more primal reaction to him. It was easy to fantasize about how his body would feel against mine. He seemed like the type who craved control, and it made me shiver to imagine relinquishing control of my body to him.

My contradictory feelings were also unethical and completely unprofessional. I was here as a facilitator. I was in a position of authority, however tentative, and I shouldn’t be lusting after a guy who was here for treatment.

What was wrong with me? This was so out of character that it shocked me.

Maxx looked around the room in a leisurely way, taking his time to make the circle until his gaze finally settled on me. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and I couldn’t help that my eyes fell to his mouth. Fucking hell . . .

A flash of some unidentifiable emotion heated his face. Just as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone, as though it had never been there. His tongue disappeared behind his teeth as he grinned at me, making me wonder if he could read the inappropriate thoughts I was having.

And that pissed me off. He pissed me off. Which was irrational. I didn’t even know him.

My neck flushed bright red under his scrutiny. The strange familiarity I had felt when he arrived only increased the longer he looked at me. When his attention finally shifted away, my breath came out in a noisy rush that embarrassed me.

Kristie gave me a strange look before turning back to Maxx. His lips quirked as though something about all of this amused him. But then, as if he’d flicked a switch, his face smoothed and his eyes became serious. It was like watching someone put on a mask. It was seamless and complete.

“I’m Maxx Demelo,” he began, his voice soft and rich. I swallowed around the thick lump in my throat.

That voice. I knew it. But from where?

Maxx lifted his hands in the air, his broad shoulders heaving in a shrug as though he was about to reveal the secrets of his soul. His eyes flicked to me again, and he said with absolute sincerity, “And I came here to be saved.”