She smiles softly as if remembering something. “I was a friend of their mother. Worked down at the club sometimes. Back in the day before I got my own salon.”
My curiosity is piqued. “You knew them when they were growing up?”
“Sure. Bet you have a million questions.” Her grin turns cheeky.
My eyes light up with the possibility of getting a little insight into the boys when they were growing up. There is so much I still don’t know about them. “What were they like?”
She laughs. “A lot of trouble. Especially Cruz. That boy came out of the womb with a cigarette between his fingers and danger flowing through his veins. His poor mother was worried sick about him most of the time. Lucky he had three big brothers looking out for him.”
I laugh with her, imagining him as a delinquent kid. “I bet. Nothing’s changed then.”
“Nope.”
“What about Jagger, has he always been a bossy asshole? And Ash a ladies’ man?”
She shrugs. “The boys all handled their mother’s death differently. And with a father like Syd, they didn’t stand much of a chance in staying out of trouble.” She glances over her shoulder, then leans in a little closer. “I don’t know the full story, only what I heard in snippets from around the club, but those boys did things and saw things no children should have to. Growing up in a strip club and brothel with a father who was selling drugs, thrust them into a life of crime and forced them allto grow up way faster than they should have. They’re good kids deep down where it counts.” She clutches her heart. “Helped me get my salon and all.”
“That was kind of them.”
“I looked out for them when they were young, and they repaid me as soon as they could. I would do anything for those kids.”
A snippet of jealousy hits me. The way she talks about them. Yeah, they grew up in a shitty situation, but they had good people like Georgina looking out for them. I grew up in the lap of luxury, but when push came to shove, I meant nothing to my flesh and blood. It stings in a way I will never recover from.
“Where are you from? Is it Italy? Your accent is so adorable.”
I look her over, not sure how much I want to share about myself, but the accent kind of gives me away. “A long time ago,” I mutter.
She nods as she switches sides and starts working on the short pixie layers. “You seem like a sweet girl, but I have to say something on behalf of their mother,” she says as she runs her fingers through my hair, checking the length. “It’s clear they are all making a fuss over you. And I couldn’t help but hear Asher’s declaration before he stormed off. Please don’t hurt them. They’ve been through enough.”
I blink back at her. Don’t hurt them? “I won’t,” I whisper with no confidence in my voice because maybe it’s already too late for making promises like that. I think I hurt Ash already today, but that was never my intention. This has all just gotten out of hand so damn quickly.
She nods as if pleased with my answer, running her fingers through my hair as she tidies it up and blends the back.
I stare back at my reflection, a little in shock but loving it. “I look so different.” Older, and cooler in a way I never imagined I could.
“That’s the idea, right?” She grins at me in the mirror, pleased with her handiwork.
My grin widens as well. I can see it, the new me. Strong, ready to fight for what she wants and not be walked all over like the pathetic girl I was. “Yeah. What else do you have in that bag of tricks?”
“Trust me, girl, you won’t even recognize yourself when I’m done with you.”
I smirk back at her. “I really hope so.”
Two hours later, Georgina and I walk back into the main living space, my stomach churning with anxiety about the boys’ reaction to my new style. She wasn’t kidding when she claimed she had everything necessary in her bag of tricks. I have new piercings on the exposed ear; she said it was the only place she would do so close to me having surgery because of the risk of infection. Then gave me a temporary tattoo on my neck that looks incredibly real and put in contacts that turned my eyes brown. She glued on thick fake lashes and showed me how to apply the make-up heavier than I’m used to around my eyes and paint my lips ruby red just like hers. I look like a biker chick, and I can’t believe how much I love it.
When we walk in the room, the chatter among the boys falls silent. Jagger drops the pen he was holding, his jaw nearly hitting the floor in a way that makes him look like a cartoon character.
I stare back at them, waiting for one of them to say something. Anything to ease the churning. Do they hate it? Do I even care if they do? It shouldn’t matter. I take a step back, wanting to run back to my room to hide.
“This is unheard of. They’re all speechless.” Georgina laughs, hitting the side of my arm. “I guess my job is done, girl.”
Cruz is the first to move toward me, walking around me as he inspects every inch. “Not a little princess anymore.”
“Can I get away with it?” I whisper, feeling like an imposter. Will everyone be able to see me and know who I really am?
“Perfect, Georgina. Exactly what I wanted,” Jagger declares as he walks toward me, like this was all his idea. The asshole didn’t even know I cut all my hair off, so how can he lay claim to this?
I glare at him as if to say as much. I also haven’t forgiven him for leaving me hanging last night.
