Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
She’d built a life for herself. She was happy in that life. Having Keys for a friend—a real one—had added to that happiness. Now, she felt off-balance and afraid. She could admit that to herself. She kept making the commitment to him, and she meant it, but then he would introduce something new and frightening and expect her to trust him enough to get her through it. When it came to sex, she could handle it because in the end, he’d always given her the best experience, no matter how kinky he got. But this kind of thing…it threw her back to her childhood, when she was unwanted and trying to navigate a world she didn’t understand.
Lyric knew she was always the one expected to conform to the norms of thinking and acting. She was expected to know social cues. She’d been strict in her life, becoming the best at color and cuts, learning to play the game and making her salon friendly and welcoming. She had that role down perfectly. She did little outside of it. She didn’t go for coffee or tea with girlfriends. When she went to a bar to dance, because she loved to dance, it was always alone. She made friends with the bartender and a few regulars, but those kinds of friendships didn’t require anything of her.
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.