Page 43 of The Sasquatch and the Hairdresser

I know my trauma is hard for him to hear, but he hasn’t run screaming and his attitude toward me hasn’t changed. He’s still the same big, sweet, loving sasquatch I’m pretty fucking sure I’m already head over heels for.

Hal pulls a handkerchief out of one of his apron pockets—one he clearly embroidered—and hands it to me.

I give him a watery smile. “Always prepared. Thank you.” After I wipe my face and blow my nose, I say, “Okay, there’s more, but we can leave it for later if you want.”

Hal nods and levels an encouraging smile at me. “If you want to share it with me, then I want to hear it. Whenever you feel ready.”

Where the fuck have you been all my damn life, you big, lovable softie?

“After I got away from Damien, I kept moving around a lot, never staying in any one place too long. It wasn’t easy—I had lost touch with so many people when we started dating—but there were still a few that let me crash on their sofas while I tried to avoid him.”

Hal’s eyes glitter with warmth. “They sound like tried-and-true friends. In your hour of need, they didn’t hesitate to help despite your absence in their lives. For all the horrible Damiens out there in this world, there are also wonderful people worth believing in.”

“Totally. Found family can be better than the real deal. I bet the town magic would let those friends of mine in without a problem.”

Hal’s eyes sparkle. “We should invite them to come and stay at the B&B for a reunion.”

“I’d really like that,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse. Then, I take a steadying breath and continue. “While Damien was out on bail, I just kept trying to stay low while I waited for his court date to be scheduled. But I should have known he wouldn’t let me go that easily. I changed jobs, started working at a salon a few train stops from our old neighborhood, made sure to never stay in anyone’s space more than a couple of nights at a time, but he eventually tracked me down and started stalking me. After he caused a scene at my new salon and the cops were called, he disappeared again. I filed a restraining order on top of the warrant out for his arrest, but he was able to stay below the radar for a while. I was terrified he’d kill me before the cops caught him.” I clench my teeth, my jaw tightening as I remember those days. “Damien just got deeper into stealth mode. Meanwhile, I was losing my fucking mind—constantly on edge, never knowing when or where he’d show up next…”

I trail off and gather my words for the next part.

“Eventually, he got his chance. Some coworkers had started walking with me to the train station after our shifts, but one night, our schedules didn’t match up because someone called in sick. One of them offered to stay late, but I didn’t want to be a hassle, so I left the salon alone. About two blocks away from my stop, the asshole came outta the shadows like a real fucking nightmare in the flesh and jumped me.”

I inhale sharply, then slowly exhale a couple times, hoping the breathing techniques my therapist taught me can calm my racing heart. “He dragged me into an alley and beat the everloving shit out of me, more than he ever had before. Biting, kicking, punching, screaming at the top of his lungs—the fucker was trying to kill me.”

Hal makes a sharp noise and grabs my hand, his touch doing more than any breathing shit to calm my pulse down. I entwine our fingers and continue.

“The plus side, I guess, is that I don’t remember a whole lot of what happened after the first few blows to my head.” I let out a weak laugh. “Some firefighters leaving a bar after a birthday celebration passed by and saw what was going on. They scared Damien off, called the cops, and did on-site trauma care until the ambulance arrived. Their medical training came to the rescue big time. But I still ended up majorly fucked up, was in the hospital for over two weeks this time. I won’t catalog every injury, but it was the bad concussion and some serious bruising to my left kidney that had me under observation for a while. The docs said it was kind of a miracle I didn’t have worse internal injuries. This assault was added to the charges against Damien, but now the cops finally found him and took him into custody. Based on my documented injuries and multiple witnesses, the fraud charges, the past assault charges, and his criminal history for assault and battery, Damien ended up pleading out in the end. He got three years, with the possibility of parole after eighteen months. It all gave me some breathing room to figure out what to do next so I’d never encounter anyone like him ever again. I stayed with friends and tried to plan out those next steps.”

“Thank the Goddess,” Hal whispers. “And thank you to all the people who helped you during this horrifying ordeal.”

“The universe came through for me on that front, but the whole thing convinced me I needed to move far away, start over. I’d lived in the city my whole life, but it didn’t feel safe. Too many bad memories lurking around every corner there. I wanted to find a place where I could belong, make a new community for myself, work on turning my dream of opening my own salon into a reality.” I smile. “That’s when I discovered that ad Astraea put out and it got me to thinking that maybe a Sanctuary Haven could be exactly what I needed. Not gonna lie, it sounded too fucking good to be true. I’d heard that some Havens don’t allow humans at all, so I wasn’t sure if a human like me would be wanted here, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to visit and find out for myself. Talking with my therapist about it all eventually convinced me to make the leap. I packed up what little I owned and hopped on the bus.” My smile turns into a grin. “And fell in love with this place almost from the instant I set foot on Main Street.”

Hal beams at me. “Mystic Hollow does have that effect on some people. I’m a perfect example as well.”

I nod. “Don’t know if it’s magic or destiny or sheer fucking coincidence, but I’m so glad I followed my gut when I couldn’t get Astraea’s ad out of my head. The rest, as they say, is history.”

I burrow further into Hal’s arms and caress his forearm. “Thanks for listening.” My voice is hoarse from talking so damn much.

He holds me close and strokes my hair. I have to stop myself from purring like a cat.

“You’re a survivor, Skylar. Strong, brave, beautiful. You’ve overcome so much, and I’m so proud to be your boyfriend.” He hesitates and fidgets nervously. “Er… are you okay with that term? Or would you prefer partner?”

Fuck, he’s cute.

“Either’s fine with me. How about you?”

He nods vigorously. “Me too.”

We stay, holding each other, for a long while before I pull back, biting my lip. I look into his warm eyes and then shift my gaze away.

“So, about our relationship. There’s something we need to talk about.” I hold his gaze. Dr. P and I have talked about what she calls being fully present in my truth, and part of that for me is looking people in the eye because my feelings matter. “After what happened to me, I haven’t wanted… you know… to have sex. Truthfully, I’m not sure I ever wanted it that much in the first place or if I’ll ever want it again. My therapist’s been helping me realize I’m probably what’s called demisexual. I don’t tend to experience sexual attraction without deeper feelings, and even then, it’s never been something I’ve needed. I prefer other ways of being close and showing affection. Hugging, cuddling, kissing, that kind of stuff. As for the rest?” I shrug. “Well, I understand if no sex is a deal-breaker for you, but I wanted to lay it all out before we go any further.”

Exhausted but relieved I’ve gotten it all out in the open, I deflate a bit after that. I’m proud that I told Hal my story, no matter the outcome.

Hal stares at me with a look of wonder, then pinches himself.

“Ow!”