“Tell him.” Irish shrugged. “That’s not going to change the fact that Noble dropped your ass and never looked back.”
In one quick motion, Shay threw the flat iron toward Irish, striking her on the forearm.
Gasps filled the room before Irish realized what had happened. When it registered in her mind that Shay had burned her, Irish jumped from her seat and rushed her.
“Bitch!” Irish yelled, punching Shay in the mouth. “Now, I’m ‘bout to beat your ass.”
“Y’all stop!” Clarice yelled between laughs.
“No, she threw a flat iron at my sister. Let her get her ass whooped,” Ivory declared.
Irish hammered Shay’s face with no mercy. She fell into the corner, knocking down all of her hair supplies along the way.
“Irish, let her go!” Rozalin yelled, attempting to pull her off of Shay.
All of the anger and pent-up frustration was released with each punch to Shay’s face. Irish wanted to stop but the rage in her wouldn’t allow her to. Thoughts of Jovanis taking all of her years away and Noble dismissing her increased her anger. Then, her mother not protecting her surfaced inside her mind. Typically, Irish had self-control, but she’d bubbled over with defeat. Shay had caught her on the wrong day and now she was paying for it.
“Y’all help me!” Rozalin said.
Soon after, more hands grabbed Irish and peeled her away from Shay. She cowered in the corner, face bloody with a swollen lip.
“Now keep fucking with me and I promise you’ll get more than what I just gave you, hoe!”
“Bitch.” Shay spat out blood. “You just fucked up. I swear you don't even know what you did.”
They pulled Irish away and pinned her on the other side of the salon.
“Irish, you my girl and all but you gotta go.” Rozalin shook her head, handing her purse to her.
She instantly gawked. “You're really going to say that after she burned me with a fucking flat iron?”
“Right, you ain't say nothing when Shay threw it at her!” Ivory countered.
Noticing something out of her peripheral vision, Irish ducked when she noticed a set of curling irons coming her way.
“You see this shit!” Irish pointed out. “But you want me to leave.”
“Yes, because if you stay y’all are gonna keep fighting. I can’t have this shit in my shop,” Rozalin explained.
“Fuck this,” Irish muttered, grabbing her purse from the chair. “You’ll never see me again with your biased ass. Come on, Ivory.”
The two barged out of the salon and went to the car. Irish hadn’t been this livid since her childhood. She didn’t get into fights. She was always pleasant but dealing with a disgruntled ex-wife, who tried to assassinate her character was her breaking point.
“You okay, sis? You wanna wait for her out here?”
“No, let’s go. I’m done with her bitter ass.”
“But what about our hair?”
“Girl.” Irish smacked her lips. “We’ll find a new stylist. Let’s go to the coffee shop and browse TikTok for a stylist.”
“Okay.”
Cali descended the staircase and noticed Douglas sitting in the living room with Bria on the side of him. When he peered at her, distress was etched all over his features. Guilt wouldn’t leave her mind even after an eviction notice. Not only was Cali guilty over what she’d done to Rio but also for stressing her father out.
“I have an update for you,” he told her as she took a seat.
“What is it?”
