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Tabitha deepened her pressure around Hannah’s cervical spine as she thought about the question. “It was a good opportunity. I wanted to see more of the world. Auntie El doesn’t have a lot of money and I needed to start relying on myself. You know what they say—three hots and a cot. And now the GI Bill is paying for massage school.”
“Chris wanted to get away.” Despite the heaviness of her words, Hannah’s voice was dreamy, her body softening, giving in to the massage. “First time he came home he looked like a completely different person. He was this scrawny little kid all his life. Well, not to me. He was always my big brother. But after basic training and his first tour, Chris was so buffed up. So tough. I almost didn’t know him.”
Tabitha tried to picture Hobbs as a kid, and was kind of surprised to learn he’d been skinny. That made a lot of sense, though. Maybe joining the marine corps had been his way to turn himself into someone different. Someone bigger, stronger. Someone who couldn’t be bullied.
“I was mad that he left me.” Hannah sank deeper into her relaxed state, her voice like she shared secrets in the confessional at church. “My father was in jail by then but my mother didn’t have anything left for me. I was alone a lot. Victor was working all the time, giving most of his money to Mom. Chris, who pretty much raised me, was gone. I guess I just got stuck there. Year after year. Kind of frozen. Living with Mom. Cutting people’s hair. When I met James I thought...” Hannah’s voice trailed off, choking at the end.
Tabitha’s hands slowed, trailing down to Hannah’s shoulders, where she let them rest. Tiny vibrations, just like the ones that had risen up out of Candy, were trembling out of Hannah’s body, into Tabitha’s palms.
“I was so stupid,” Hannah whispered. “I thought he was so nice. I cut his hair. He has really nice hair. I thought he was so handsome.”
Tabitha continued the massage as she listened, letting the voice of Hannah’s body be her guide as to where to touch and how much pressure to use. She paused every now and again when the trembling came up to her palms and the sweat beaded Hannah’s skin, despite the coolness of the room. Hannah’s story, of slipping into a relationship with an abusive man who slowly broke her down over time, tricking her, making her forget herself, flowed out while Tabitha moved up to her scalp and her temples. The music washed over them and the room smelled of eucalyptus and the cinnamon potpourri in the bathroom.
“I’m mad at myself for letting this happen,” Hannah said as Tabitha finished up her head, neck and shoulder routine. “If anyone should’ve known better, it should’ve been me.”
Though their situations, and their pasts, were different, Tabitha understood what it meant to feel trapped, to have someone stronger than you—whether physically or in rank or both—take advantage of that power in cruel and abusive ways. “Have you seen anyone about this? Like a therapist?”
Hannah shook her head. “Chris suggested it. I didn’t feel ready to talk to anyone.”
“You’ve been talking to me.”
Hannah smiled. “You’re easy to talk to. I can see why my brother likes you so much. You’re warm and open. There’s something about you that makes the room calmer.”
A flush ran up Tabitha’s cheeks. “Thanks.” She finished up the scalp massage and ran her thumbs down Hannah’s forehead, then circled her fingertips at her temples. “I’ll refer you to my own therapist before you leave. I have her card. Her name is Hope.”
“Hope,” Hannah echoed. “I bet she gets a lot of business.”
They laughed together for a moment before Tabitha said, “You just close your eyes and relax now. Let the rest of the hour be all about you, just relaxing.”
“Okay.” Hannah’s voice sounded small as her eyes closed.
After that, the room went quiet and Hannah’s body quieted back down, sinking into rhythm with the music and Tabitha’s strokes. At some point, she fell into a gentle sleep. Tabitha didn’t bother making her roll over, just did what she could with Hannah faceup. When she finished, she touched her shoulder gently until she woke. “I’ll go into the bathroom to wash so you can get dressed,” Tabitha whispered. “Get up slowly. You might be a little light-headed.” Once she was in the bathroom, Tabitha looked at herself in the mirror again while she washed her hands. Her eyes were less tired, a little invigorated from the energy exchange with Hannah. Even though most of Hannah’s story had been depressing, Tabitha couldn’t help but linger on her words:I can see why my brother likes you so much.
Back in the living room, Hannah was dressed and stretching her arms over her head. “I feel amazing,” she said. “Thanks for this. And for listening.”
“Anytime.” Tabitha grabbed her coat and dug out her wallet. Inside she drew out Hope’s business card and handed it over. She was proud of herself for listening to Hannah talk without offering any kind of advice that went outside her scope of practice. There were so many things she had wanted to say, but Hannah would be better off with Hope’s words and only Tabitha’s hands.
“Thanks.” Hannah read the card and slipped it in her jeans pocket. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Telling you all those things.”
“Not at all,” Tabitha said as she packed up. “I’m glad you feel so comfortable with me. And I’m glad you’re here. Safe with your brother.”
“I hope so.”
Tabitha zipped up the carrying case around her table. “What do you mean?”
“I hope I’m safe,” Hannah said. “You can never be sure, can you?”
Tabitha’s movements slowed as she packed away her MP3 player and salt lamp. She looked up at Hannah, noting that the room seemed almost too quiet. All the animals were still curled up, asleep, despite all her banging around. “What are you saying, Hannah?”
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “I’ve gotten some texts,” she admitted, her voice going thin, like she was controlling the pitch. “I don’t recognize the number, but they sound like him. I blocked his number but I didn’t think about him using a different phone to text me. I’m not very smart about that kind of stuff.”
Tabitha’s skin sprang with gooseflesh. She froze. “What do they say?”
Hannah looked up at the ceiling. “Things like, ‘You shouldn’t have left me.’ ‘I know where you are.’” Hannah met Tabitha’s gaze. “‘You’ll be seeing me soon.’”
Tabitha wasn’t sure how long she stood there, hand looped through the handles of her carrying bag, the silence falling in on itself. She snapped out of it when Trinity bumped her hand with her nose. “You have to tell your brother. You have to show him those texts. Go to the police.” Tabitha stroked Trinity’s head.
“The police are no good,” Hannah said. “They couldn’t help me in Omaha when he was actually hitting me. They won’t be able to help with a few texts from some unknown number. The texts don’t even directly threaten me. They sound perfectly nice, out of context.”
Tabitha contained her surprise at how much Hannah had thought this through. Well, of course she had. Her survival was at stake. She knew what this man was capable of. “You have to tell your brother,” Tabitha repeated. “So that he’s prepared, at the very least. We can show Sean, too. Detective Callahan. He’ll know what to do.”
“Chris is on a date.” Hannah’s expression darkened. “Someone from the gym named Serena. Just drinks, he said. He wanted to give us space for the massage.”
“Oh, I see.” Tabitha tried not to let the gouging feeling in her stomach show on her face. So much for the magic of her light touch. But now was not the time to dwell on her own problems. “As soon as he’s home, then,” Tabitha insisted. “You need to show Chris those texts.”
“Tabitha.” Hannah stepped closer and lowered her voice. “James is really good at mind games. This could all be just to mess with me. Do you think he really knows where I am?”
Tabitha looked directly into the eyes of the woman she’d just spent an hour relaxing with a massage and knew she couldn’t lie. “I don’t know. But you have to tell Chris.”
