Chapter Fifteen #3
No one ever bothered to try to find a way to communicate with her in a way she would understand until Keys.
She knew it was impossible for others to understand how her brain worked.
She’d studied and researched extensively, but every neurodivergent person was different.
There were many of them, and all of them should count.
Many were brilliant, and without them, discoveries that aided the world would never have been made.
She pushed those thoughts from her mind, knowing she was seeking to validate herself. She’d stopped doing that a few years earlier. It was upsetting to her how easy it was to fall back into old patterns of self-doubt and feeling unwanted.
She had to find a way out of the mess she’d gotten herself into. She didn’t want to hurt Keys, and she knew if she left, he wouldn’t understand, especially because she’d given him her word. She wanted to be with him. She did. It just wasn’t going to work, and he couldn’t see it.
Lyric took a deep breath and pushed herself up from the table.
She didn’t look toward Blythe, Seychelle and Anya because she didn’t want to put them in danger.
She knew Headed for Hell members, if there were any watching, would identify her.
But they weren’t supposed to be able to so easily identify the other women.
She walked to the door with complete confidence, the confidence Lyric the stylist displayed out in public. Just as she reached for the door handle, another hand got there before hers. She looked up and immediately recognized Destroyer. How had he gotten inside and she hadn’t noticed?
“Not happening, Lyric. Keys wants you safe inside. You stay put.”
Destroyer had a gravelly voice, rough and deep and very scary. Everything about him was scary. She’d always noticed him when he was with Keys; it was impossible not to notice him, but he rarely spoke. He just looked intimidating.
She squared her shoulders. “I was just going to go outside for some fresh air.” She kept her tone light and friendly.
Not in the least defiant. Not at all the way she felt.
She did have a penchant for violence when others told her what to do.
She wouldn’t mind kicking him in the shins and sprinting past him, another childish reaction she’d learned not to do.
“Said it once already.”
“So, prisoner, then,” she said and turned away from him, walking to the other side of the shop, away from the customers on the side where food and drink were served.
She didn’t look back. What was the point?
But she was shaking, and she couldn’t hide that fact.
She didn’t want to chance anyone seeing, especially the three women she’d come here to get to know.
As she wandered around the shop filled with lotions, soaps and oils, she realized this side of the building smelled different from the tea side, something that was impossible.
It was one space with no wall dividing the two sides, so whatever scents were filling the air on the tea side should naturally be on the shop side as well.
There were three small bins with three different bath bombs in the compartment on one of the tables. She couldn’t help but lean over to smell the middle one. The fragrance called to her.
“That’s my favorite scent,” a soft, musical voice said from behind her. “Apple, sage, jasmine and sandalwood.”
Lyric nearly jumped out of her skin, straightening and spinning around.
To her astonishment, Hannah, the owner of the store, stood behind her.
There had been no sound to warn Lyric that she was close.
Hannah seemed to float among her customers, talking and laughing with each group and moving between the two shops, yet she didn’t seem to take up space.
Hannah was a beautiful woman. Tall and curvy with gorgeous blue eyes and very curly blond hair. Up close, Lyric could see faint white scars on her face, but they were so faded that one just noticed her creamy skin. She wasn’t wearing makeup, or if she was, it was incredibly subtle.
“I sometimes feel like a mad chemist when I’m developing new products.”
Hannah smiled at her, open, friendly, but Lyric recognized the mask. Maybe everyone wore a mask when they had to deal with strangers.
“I’m Hannah Harrington,” Hannah continued.
“Lyric Johansen,” Lyric responded. It was impossible to be in Hannah’s presence and not recognize her power.
It flowed from her, a subtle feeling at first, but Lyric’s warning system responded.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
She felt the impact of that influence and knew this woman wielded tremendous power, yet someone had come very close to killing her.
“What’s wrong with the world?” she murmured aloud before she could stop herself. “I don’t understand anything in it.”
“I’ve often wondered that myself, Lyric,” Hannah said. “Do you have a minute to visit?”
Lyric glanced toward the closed door to the back room.
She had no idea how long she had, but it would be nice to follow someone’s direction.
“Sure. I’m just…waiting.” There was a note of reluctance in her voice she couldn’t help.
Keys would emerge, and in his presence, she knew she would lose her resolve to run.
Around him, she didn’t seem to have self-preservation.
“You’re waiting for Keys?” Hannah led the way to a very small table close to another door that led to the back, most likely the supply room.
“Yes.” Lyric didn’t know what else to say. She sank into the chair and found it surprisingly comfortable. It was carved wood, highly polished, gleaming and rich looking. She was short and Hannah was tall, yet each of the chairs seemed to work for them.
“You seem troubled,” Hannah said. “I don’t mean to pry, but perhaps I have some capability to ease your worries.”
The low tone was sweet and inviting. There was no compulsion; Lyric would have recognized it. Instead, Hannah’s voice was sincere. She inspired trust in a way no one ever had. Lyric didn’t quite know what to do.
Hannah waved her hand, and a teapot instantly sang merrily.
“I knew Jonas from the time we were children. I was so painfully shy, I couldn’t speak in front of anyone, even at school.
When I did manage to speak, I stuttered.
My sisters would help me, so no one knew, not even Jonas.
He thought I was stuck-up, just like everyone else did, but I honestly couldn’t speak.
As I grew up, I learned several languages and traveled the world, which I despised doing, but I still couldn’t speak without the help of my sisters.
For years, I conformed, pretending to be someone I wasn’t. It was very, very difficult.”
She poured tea into two cups. “All that time, I loved Jonas. There was never going to be anyone else for me, but I knew it wouldn’t work between us.
He was everything I wasn’t. Adventurous.
Brave. Outgoing, so outgoing.” She sighed and raised the cup to her lips, looking at Lyric over it.
“He was always involved in something crazy, military, working for special teams; I don’t even know everything he did, but I did know it was dangerous and he thrived on that life. ”
Lyric’s churning stomach began to settle as some of the tension eased out of her.
Hannah wasn’t requiring anything of her.
She was very interested in Hannah’s story.
The last thing she expected was a woman who had done things she’d read about, a supermodel, confessing to feeling the same as Lyric felt.
“I knew he would eventually want to go into something like he’s done, becoming the sheriff.
People vote, and they want to know his family.
I didn’t want to be seen, and that was before the attack.
That woman walking the runway wasn’t me.
She was never going to be me, but that was all anyone saw.
Even my sisters believed in her and didn’t see me. ”
Hannah could have been talking about Lyric. It had never occurred to her that she would end up identifying with a woman like Hannah. And a woman who obviously wielded so much power. How could she have felt small and unseen?
“I didn’t want anyone to know the real me.
” Hannah continued her confession. “I knew they couldn’t accept me the way I was.
I wanted to be a homemaker. Stay in my house and raise my children.
I wanted to bake and cook and sew and make my lotions, elixirs, tonics and various homeopathic remedies that could help others if they were ill.
I had no desire to travel, yet it was expected of me.
Great things are expected of those in my family. Staying home wasn’t even on the table.”
Lyric didn’t want to interrupt her. Didn’t want to tell her about being cast aside for her differences, but Hannah seemed to know.
“At least I had a loving family, and believe me, they all love me. They all wanted to help me, but they didn’t understand me or even see the real me.
I didn’t let them because I didn’t want to let them down.
” She took another sip of tea. “Well, it was more than that. I didn’t think they could ever accept me as I am. ”
“I definitely know that feeling,” Lyric murmured before she could stop herself.
Hannah nodded and gave her a small smile of camaraderie. “I knew that you did, the moment I saw you with Keys and the others. You’re me, all over again.” She placed her teacup carefully on the table.