Page 61 of Twisted Road

“Oh, Seychelle.” Blythe sounded worried. “How bad was it? Or is it?”

“She had internal injuries. No head trauma, which was good,” Seychelle said.

“Did you call Steele?” Blythe persisted.

Anya took pity on Lyric and explained why they were so concerned. “Seychelle has a gift for healing, but whatever the injury, it transfers to her.”

Lyric had never heard of such a thing, but she believed in the possibility of healers born with tremendous gifts.

“I didn’t call Steele because he would have told Savage. I promised Savage.” Seychelle started to cry. “I let him down all the time. You have no idea how many times I screw up. I don’t know a thing about…well…you know, so I never know if he’s getting what he needs. It feels like he’s always giving and I’m always taking. I hate it. And this…” She indicated her body. “It’s not the worst I’ve ever done, but he asked me to promise him I wouldn’t do it anymore, not without him there, or someone else from Torpedo Ink.”

Blythe parked the car in the street, in front of several businesses. The one directly in front of them had two large bay windows; a wooden sign in the shape of a hat declared it was the Floating Hat. On the door hung a series of bells cascading down, all in the shape of a hat. One window showcased hat-shaped cups and tall caddies of delicious-looking savories and scones. The other window displayed lotions and bath products in beautiful handmade baskets. It looked inviting. Had Lyric been on her own in Sea Haven, she would have chosen to go in.

“You know I have to have Steele meet us here. We won’t make a big deal, but he has to examine you,” Blythe said very gently.

“I lay down when I got home, that’s why I was late picking you up,” Seychelle said, as if her lying down resolved everything.

Lyric found it interesting that Seychelle felt about her relationship with Savage the way Lyric viewed hers with Keys. He might be bossy, but he gave her anything she wanted. She’d learned to be careful in casually saying she loved something because the next thing she knew, it was in their home. He shared the household chores with her, even mopping floors and doing laundry, his nemesis. He cooked, and when she did dishes, he did them with her. She wasn’t certain what she was giving him in return. It was more than all the things he did for her or bought her, it was the way he treated her as if she were his greatest treasure. It made her feel closer to Seychelle to realize she felt the same way in her relationship.

“Savage certainly doesn’t think you let him down ever, Seychelle,” Blythe assured her. “You’re his entire world. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be happy until you came along.”

“We were going to lose him,” Anya added. “We all knew it. Reaper watched him like a hawk. He told me he didn’t know how to save Savage. You were like a miracle for all of us.”

“Not so much,” Seychelle denied. “He’s going to be so upset.”

“He should be,” Blythe said. “If he isn’t upset when you put yourself in a position where you could die, then he doesn’t really love you.”

Seychelle knew Blythe was stalling getting out of the car. She must have texted Steele the minute Seychelle confessed she’d helped the woman hit by the car. Motorcycles were already arriving, parking beside them in a neat row. Lyric recognized Steele from all the times he’d visited to heal her. With him were Maestro and Keys and definitely Savage.

Savage opened the door on the passenger side and, without a word, scooped Seychelle up in his arms, cradling her close to his chest. He wore an expressionless mask, one Lyric had seen on Keys often: the grim one, meaning they were going to be talking later—or he was.

“Take her to the back room in the tea shop,” Steele said. “I texted Hannah, and she has no problem with me using the space to take a look at Seychelle.”

“I’m sorry,” Lyric heard Seychelle whisper.

“We knew it would happen, baby,” Savage said. “We’ll just figure out a way to make you safer. It’s a compulsion you can’t help.”

“But I didn’t call you or Steele,” she confessed in that same muffled whisper.

Lyric had climbed out of the car and was following Savage as he crossed the sidewalk and opened the door to the tea shop. Several hats jingled merrily as he yanked at the door. Immediately, the mingled fragrant scents wafted from the inside to the sidewalk, inviting them in.

“We’ll talk about that later, Seychelle,” Savage said with calm assurance. “Right now, let Steele take a look at you. He’ll know what to do.”

Lyric followed Blythe and Anya into the tea shop. She was very aware Keys, Maestro and Steele were right behind them. Blythe reached out to Steele. “Thanks for coming right away. I have no idea if she’s perfectly fine or not, but thought it best if you examined her.”

“No problem, Blythe. This is my job.” Steele gave her a reassuring smile. “We aren’t going to let anything happen to Seychelle. Go enjoy yourselves while you can.”

Lyric stood by the window uncertainly, watching Maestro enter the back of the shop before Steele. Keys sent Lyric one look from his glittering eyes and paced behind Steele, looking for all the world like a very scary assassin—exactly what he was. But that single look acknowledged her. Made her feel seen by him.

“Come on, Lyric, let’s get a table. Seychelle is going to be just fine.” Blythe led the way to a booth by a window. “As you know, Steele can fix anything. He’s amazing.”

“You know Savage won’t be letting Seychelle out of his sight for months,” Anya said. “Reaper even tried to talk to him about it a few weeks ago, said he holds on to her too tight. That’s always been Savage’s fear, that a woman could never live with that kind of control.”

“That’s what he fears?” Blythe looked shocked. “That he’s too controlling? For heaven’s sake, Anya, I know he’s your brother-in-law and you have loyalty for him. I do too, just because he’s Torpedo Ink and he’s so serious about guarding Czar. But I asked Czar once about the rumors regarding Savage being a sexual sadist, and he said it was true. Maybe that’s what he should be worried about.”

Lyric turned her head to stare out the window. Keys wasn’t a sadist, but he definitely didn’t mind mixing pain and pleasure. Some of the time, when they came together, it was rough and intense and scary as hell. She had been on the verge of flight just because she’d never in her life experienced anything remotely as intense as she did with Keys. But…

She looked toward the back room where Savage had carried Seychelle. For the first time in her life, she identified with another woman. Seychelle seemed open and friendly, but any woman who loved a man who was a sexual sadist was hiding a part of herself from the world. And for a good reason.