Page 74

“Since I am probably saving your license, you’re welcome,” I reply. With what I know now, I might even be saving her life if Emil gets really pissed off.

“I need to check the cut,” she says, ignoring me. “Can we relocate to the bathroom so I can wash your hair?”

I nod, and she gathers up the cape before unfastening it. The room has tile flooring to make it easier to pick up any hair that might be missed, and Roxy tosses the hair she manages to catch in the trash as I stand slowly.

“Can you move any faster?” she asks as she watches me cross the room.

I will not punch her in the face…

I continue to walk at exactly the same pace as she follows me.

“Rachelle?” I call out in the hallway. “Roxy, are you going to need anything other than a towel?”

She is carrying her bag with her, but I don’t know what she’ll need.

“I have shampoo and conditioner in here,” she says, lifting up the bag.

Rachelle pops her head out of the playroom, and her eyes go wide. Ugh. That doesn’t look good.

“Don’t judge it until it’s blown out,” Roxy begs. “I need to wash her hair, can we get a towel please?”

Apparently, Roxy is only semi nice to the people paying her. Noted.

Once in the bathroom, she shoves my head down toward the sink so I can’t see my reflection in the mirror. Anxiety claws at me as she washes my hair, and then she's wrapping it up in a towel.

My heart pounds for reasons other than my health as I walk back to the chair, and I listen to the blow dryer’s whine as she brushes and dries my hair.

By the time she hands me the mirror, I’m pretty sure she’s going to show me that a train wreck lives on my head. My lips purse as I stare at it, trying to visualize how it’ll look tomorrow without professional help.

Roxy gave me wispy bangs I’m sure will curl funky without a ton of product and heat. I don’t have the patience on a good day for all of that. She also layered my hair, which seems shorter than it originally was.

The longest layer hits the base of my neck. I can’t stop staring, wondering what it’ll look like when it’s wavy. Or worse yet…curly.

I can feel my eyes threatening to water and sigh. It’s going to suck either way.

“It’s only hair,” I attempt to remind myself, handing Roxy back the mirror.

“Well that’s pretty ungrateful,” she grumbles, packing up her shit.

Everyone surrounds me to see how it came out, and they’re all pissed off.

“How much is she charging for this?” Emil sighs, reaching out to catch a tear as it slides down my face.

“A hundred and twenty dollars,” Roxy chirps.

“Don’t clean up, just get out,” he says, pulling out his wallet to pull the bills to hand to her.

Roxy’s eyes grow large but she nods as she unplugs her hair dryer and throws everything into her bag. I get up out of the chair, walking numbly into the hallway as she leaves the house.

I notice the way she looks around as if she’s casing the joint and my brow furrows in worry.

“Jared,” I murmur softly.

He’s the one who happens to be standing beside me as I watch Roxy blatantly look around the corner to see what’s there.

“Roxy, the front door is this way!” Jared says, each word reminding me of the sound of a bullet exploding from a shotgun.

A hand sits on the middle of my back, centering me as we make our presence known.