Chapter 12
Vogue
A wave of dizziness washes over me in my rush to go after Asher, and I grip the wall to steady myself. I don’t want him to be angry with me over this. It was a stupid thing for me to say. I just couldn’t deal with the LOVE word.
While I try to catch my breath, my bedroom door opens in a rush, and Cruz stands on the other side with a lady who has her hair in crazy braids all swirling through and a massive silver toolbox in her hands.
She grins at me with cheeky dimples on her blushed cheeks.
I feel silly instantly for being jealous of her relationship with Asher.
She’s older, probably in her late forties I would say, maybe even older, but it’s hard to tell with the way she’s all done up.
“So, this is the girl who has Ash storming through this place on a rampage?”
Cruz looks from me to the bathroom. “What did you do, little darlin’?”
I glance back at the mess I left in the bathroom, thinking he’s asking about my hair, not my fight with Asher. “Umm.” I run a hand through my hair. For a second I had forgotten how terrible I must look.
“I’m going to set up in here,” the lady calls as she barges into my room and heads for the adjoining bathroom. “Cruz, can you get something to clean this hair up and maybe a chair for your girl to sit on?”
“That’s Georgina,” he says, running a hand through his hair, coming off awkward.
“I figured.”
His hand comes to my waist, and he pulls me to him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Cruz.” I sigh heavily. Georgina’s timing is terrible. And I may be having some sort of mid-life crises when I’m only twenty-three, but I’m fine.
He looks me over, his eyes narrowing. “The state of your hair tells me otherwise.”
I pull out of his grip on me, not wanting to get into this with another one of them. It was bad enough Asher caught me mid haircut. “Had a meltdown, life goes on.” I wave him off.
“I’ll make myself useful then,” he mutters, but I can tell this isn’t the end of the conversation.
I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me with so much pity, so I turn away from him and move through to the bathroom, watching her set up all her equipment.
She has hair tools and scissors, and tray after tray of fancy-looking make-up.
It’s like a mini beauty studio right here in my bathroom.
“I’m D-Dahlia,” I introduce myself, remembering to use my new name, even though it feels like a pair of shoes that don’t quite fit right.
She looks me up and down, her ruby lips twisting at the side. “I know who you are. Jagger filled me in. Had to sign one of those NDAs and all. Says you need a new look, but I see you started without me.”
My head drops and my cheeks heat. I’m such an idiot. “I had a moment,” I admit.
She takes my hand in hers and gives it a comforting squeeze. She has a mothering vibe about her, one that strangely feels so soothing when I never got that feeling from my own mother. “Got you, girl. Don’t worry about it. I will have you better than new in no time.”
Cruz returns with a roller desk chair and a dustpan for all the hair. “For you, my little darlin’,” he says as he props the chair behind my knees, then sweeps up the mess of hair, leaving the dustpan leaning against the counter when he’s done.
I take a seat, making it as high as it’ll go so I can see my reflection staring back at me. It’s a horror show, so I look back to Georgina before I burst into tears again.
She plays with what’s left of my hair, running her fingers through it softly. “I would like to say I’ve seen worse, but you really went to town on this, girl.”
“I know.” I sigh heavily, the weight of my spur-of-the-moment decision bearing down on me. But I just couldn’t look into the lifeless eyes of that girl anymore and see the damage he caused. I needed to at least feel like someone new.
Her eyes light up suddenly. “I’ve got an idea. And since you’re hanging with my boys now, I figure you might just be able to pull it off.” She slips her phone out of her apron and flicks through it. “You can leave now, Cruz. We girls have work to do.” She shoos him away while still scrolling.
He’s been leaning on the counter. I can feel his eyes boring into me without looking his way. “Okay, I know when I’m in the way.” He bends to kiss my forehead. “I’ll be back when you’re all beautified.”
I nibble my bottom lip, not sure if I should ask this of him or not, but they’re brothers, he would care. “Can you go check on Ash?” I ask, still worried about him and knowing I won’t be getting out of this chair anytime soon.
His pierced brow rises, and I think he’s surprised. “Sure,” he mutters, leaving us alone.
Georgina hands her phone to me when she finds what she wants. “This, girl, not many could pull it off, but you have the cheekbones and such pretty features, I’m positive you could.”
I look over the image on the phone. The girl’s hair is cut really short all down one side, in a pixie cut then parted on the side and swept over with almost shoulder-length layers.
It’s edgy and cool, and I never would have thought in a million years I could pull it off.
But that was the old me. Maybe Dahlia can.
And right now, I don’t have a lot of other options with the damage left from my head knock. My lips turn up at the sides. “Do it.”
She grins from ear to ear. “I would love to do something drastic like a silver color that would blow Jagger’s mind.” She laughs like she knows him well too. “But that scar looks pretty fresh, so how about we just do the cut for now. I can come back in a few weeks if you want to try it.”
“I might take you up on that offer, especially if you think it might tick off Jagger.” I smirk back.
“He’s easy to piss off, hey?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s a control freak.”
“Nothing’s changed then.” She gets to work snipping away at what’s left of my hair.
“How do you know the boys?” I ask, wondering what her deal is.
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 all to 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.”