Page 30 of Tell Me No Lies

The more Myra explains to me, the less confident I am in my ability to keep my shit together. I can deal with an ugly brace on my foot and jean skirts and tops that cover me from my neck to my wrists. I can even handle having to color my hair to hide the teeny tiny caramel streaks I paid a fortune for. I can live without makeup. I can live without jewelry.

But I'm not sure I can control my mouth, and I'm even less confident I can control my face.

"The problem is, if my mouth doesn't say it, my face will." I’ve spent years putting my opinion out there. Speaking what's on my mind. Holding my ground and sticking to my guns. But I can hold all of that in to save these women.

Unfortunately, my expressions have a life of their own.

Myra grips my shoulders, leaning in, serious eyes locking onto mine. "Just keep your head down. Tune everyone around you out. If you listen to what they say, you're gonna want to start throwing things. Come up with something that makes you happy to think about, and daydream."

My heart squeezes a little. "Is that what you did?"

"It's what I should've done." One side of Myra's mouth lifts in a half smile. "I didn't. That's how I ended up locked in a cabin in the middle of the woods where they thought no one could find me."

I blow out a breath. "Fine. I’ll tune it all out, keep my head down, and won't shank anyone with a screwdriver." I tip my head to one side, knowing I have to slightly amend my promise. "Probably."

Myra's smile lifts a little more. "You can shank them on the way out. There's probably more than a few who could stand to suffer a little."

I tip my head in a nod, holding my serious expression. "Got it. Only shank after everyone has gotten out."

Myra gives me a pat on the back. "Good plan." She turns to the bed, surveying the stacks of clothes she's put together for me. We're packing my bag together to make sure I’ll look as on-brand as possible. She's shown me how to style my hair and tomorrow we’ll color it to hide my sinful streaks.

Her gaze pauses on my lingerie pile, brows lifting as she looks my way.

"Oh come on. It's not like they're going to see my panties." I grab my pile of thongs protectively, clutching them to my chest. "At least let me have these."

Myra ponders for a second, but finally shrugs. "As long as they don’t show through anything, you’ll be fine."

My lower half will always be covered with a heavy fabric, but there are some lighter colored button-ups that could give me away if I pair them with the wrong bra. I let out a little groan, just so the universe knows how fucking stupid I think this is, as I fish out the more obnoxiously colored brassieres. "I'll go see if I have any more in white or nude."

After exchanging my bright bras for boring ones, Myra and I pack up my suitcase, stacking it full before zipping it up and rolling it into my room. She pauses in my doorway. "I'll always be a phone call away. Our hotel isn’t super close since I might be recognized, so I won't be able to get to you quickly, but I can definitely talk you through shit."

"I'll keep that in mind when I feel like burning everything to the ground." I look her over, trying to gauge her current state of mind. “Are you going to be okay going back there?"

Myra straightens her shoulders. "I guess we'll find out." She tucks some of her newly highlighted hair behind one ear. "I'm kind of hoping that doing this will help me move past everything."

I give her a little smile. "Me too."

Myra returns my smile. "Thanks."

I’ll let her think I was talking about her.

I do hope this helps her move past some of the shit that happened to her. I also kind of hope it helps me. I've carried a lot of anger for a very long time, and it's suddenly exhausting. I've become who I am because of someone I hate, and it's only just occurred to me that sort of goes against everything I'm trying to do.

After Myra leaves—likely heading across the street to hang out with Felicity—I pack my toiletry bag, foregoing makeup and perfume and only adding the basics. I guess, if nothing else, I'll be traveling light, which should make it easier to get the fuck out of dodge once our job is done.

And if we have to leave it all behind I won’t miss anything.

After packing everything up and stacking it on my rolling suitcase, I climb onto my bed and switch on the TV. I tend to hang out in my room as much as possible. Christian’s been nice enough to let me live here, the least I can do is offer him and Lydia some privacy to live their life.

But I'm having a hard time paying attention, and an even more difficult time sitting still. I'm nervous. Nervous I'm going to let everyone down. That I’ll be the reason this doesn't work out.

Myra tried to reassure me, but I didn't really explain to her the depth of my fears. I know how important this is to her, and I didn't want her to feel the way I feel.

I give up on trying to relax, and creep out of my room, silently making my way down the steps before slipping out the front door. The security alarm beeps, but at this point Myra and I come and go with enough regularity that hopefully it doesn't disturb Christian and Lydia where they're piled up on the sofa watching television at the back of the house. I hobble down the steps, my foot aching the same way it always does at the end of the day. When I hit the sidewalk, I pause, knowing I should follow Myra across to Felicity’s. If nothing else, being around other people will distract me.

But I don't want a distraction right now. I want understanding. I want reassurance.

And I know exactly where I can find it.

---