I sit there for a second, letting that sink in.
“So he can start school?”
Ghost nods.
“Good.”
That’s good. The last thing I want for him after the shit life he’s had is to drop out at fourteen. The club might be my life, but he wasn’t raised that way, shit, even Haley, who’s been around it since the day she was born, won’t get the option to lie around Rosenfeld, working at one of our fronts.
I want more for her, more for both of them.
BETWEEN APPOINTMENTS
JOSEPHINE
Havingthe salon to myself this morning is exactly what I needed. It’s quiet, save for the steady hum of traffic blocking up the road out front from after-school drop-off.
Taking a long drag of my favorite iced latte, I balk at the woman staring back at me in my station’s mirror. Besides the dark circles under my eyes and the stiff pull in my lower back from squishing myself into bed next to Haley, I look like I got ready in the dark. If my clients come in and see the state of my hair, they’re going to turn around and run for the hills, which would be mighty impressive considering most are in their seventies, rounding the corner to eighty.
Being back home has been tense. It’s only been a couple of days, but getting a breather is probably in everyone’s favor at this point. Haley’s back in school, Vik’s off to deal with the club, and until he gets things straight with Ghost on the paperwork front, Trenton’s hanging out at the house, hopefully staying out of trouble. I debated bringing him in with me, but I didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t be trusted. Plus, one step in here with my regulars and the news would be around town before the end of the night.
Setting my caffeine down, I get to work, smoothing my dark hair into submission. The slicked-back high pony will have to do for today, until I can wash the weekly buildup of grease from my roots—dry shampoo can only save a girl for so many days.
Charlie doesn’t have any appointments until this afternoon, so I make my way around the salon, flipping on the open sign, tuning the radio to a station that doesn’t sound like you’re opening a bag of chips, and straightening up the front desk.
It doesn’t take long before Mrs. Loretta shuffles in with her walker, her granddaughter taking one of the seats in the waiting area.
One after another, my regulars make their appointments. We chat about the latest scandals plaguing our little town, or their children who don’t visit enough. I’ve done four set and curls, and one blowout by the time lunch rolls around and Charlie bursts through the front doors.
“Good lord, woman, who’s hot on your heels?” I chuckle, watching as she frantically looks behind her. Unease builds in my stomach at the look on her face. “Whoa, are you okay?”
Charlie drops her bags in her chair, not answering my question, before disappearing to the back room where we keep all our supplies. I’m too worried about her rushed entrance not to follow.
When I make it behind the half wall, she’s pacing back and forth, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth. She looks as bad as I did this morning, and that’s more unsettling than her behavior. Charlie’s always put together. The girl loves her morning routine, which I’d never have time for between breakfast and drop off. But today her shoes don’t match her outfit, and her lips are bare.
“Did you see them?” she asks, but never lifts her gaze from the floor.
Peeking around the corner, I eye the front door. The sidewalk’s clear, a blue sedan drives by, but other than that, nothing’s happening out front.
“See what, babe? You’re worrying me.”
At my concern, her muscles seem to tense all at once as she stops on a dime in front of me. “There’s something I need?—”
But before she can finish that thought, the front door chimes, and Trenton walks in with that damn black hoodie pulled tight over his head.
“I’m so sorry, give me a second. We’ll come back to this, I promise.”
Hustling to the front, I find Trenton awkwardly waiting by the unmanned desk.
“Hey, kid. What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
“Are you busy? I need to talk to you.”
I check my watch, noting the time. My stomach grumbles as if on cue. Charlie’s gathered herself, but her usually bronzed skin is as pale as a sheet, while she works to get her stuff put away at her station.
“Hey, Char? You good if I go get some lunch?”
“Yeah, sure.” Her voice is an octave too high and chipper for the moment we just had, but I can only handle one problem at a time.
