I’ll admit, every single time the news came on, my heart stopped. These guys aren’t exactly CNN or local news kind of guys, so the TVs never stayed on those channels long enough, but I had a deep seated fear that my face would be plastered on the scene alerting them to my past predicament back in Ohio. The longer I was exposed to this caliber of people, the more likely I would be hauled away in cuffs. I coached myself every morning in the mirror to just keep on biding my time and to keep my nose clean. The sooner they trusted me, the sooner I could easily escape.
Hero was true to his word and watched my every move out in the public rooms. There were times even at night that I could smell his cologne wafting underneath my door before his footsteps faded down the hallway. I was such a fool to think that he’d realize the error of his ways and treat me like he did in that club. Even if he wasn’t the guy I dreamed up, the memory of that night served its purpose when I needed a release. It wasn’t until the second time I masturbated in the shower that I realized that there might be cameras in the room. While I’m sure whoever was on the other end of the video feed would enjoy the show, I’m not exactly an exhibitionist when it comes to sex. Hell, I wouldn’t even rank myself a three on the scale of one to ten on extreme sex exploits. The closest I came to being kinky was letting Sam Shelton finger me on the school bus in ninth grade. It was awkward and painful since he thought fingering a pussy meant stabbing it randomly. That’s the day I learned unless you tell a man what you want, they’ll never please you in the bedroom.
Hero, on the other hand, I suspect never has to be directed in the bedroom. Every time I hear moans and screams coming from his room down the hall, it kills me a little bit on the inside. I know he and I aren’t meant to be, but it still hurts to see him drag one club whore after another into his room on a consistent basis. It takes me days to look those girls in the eyes after hearing one of their sessions with him. Either he was that good, or the girls were pornstar-grade fakers. They’re my only semi-functional friends in my personal version of hell, so I can’t lose them.
Raze pulled me aside about a week ago after dinner to tell me that I would be venturing outside the clubhouse to start my new job at Maj’s salon. The work to rebuild the charred parts of the building was finally finished and Maj was ready to re-open. It took me two days to convince Maj that I wasn’t cut out for being a hair stylist before she set me to work being their cleaning staff. Sure, sweeping up discarded hair on the floor and cleaning the bathrooms isn’t a luxurious job, but it’s better than staying in the clubhouse. The conversations with them aren’t exactly mind-blowingly insightful, but I listen intently just for the noise.
I went to bed early last night with a headache. I thought I would have to skip work today but when I woke up this morning, it was gone. I jump into my morning routine, getting cleaned up and out the door for breakfast with the girls. Slider meets me as usual by the breakfast nook with coffee in hand, ready to escort me to work. I noticed Maj spends most of her time away from the clubhouse after her fight with Raze about bringing me here. It worries be that my benefactor and protector isn’t here with me, but at least Slider seems to care about me.
“Ready to go, sweet cheeks?” Slider teases while thrusting the steaming cup of caramel-flavored coffee into my hands. “We better get you off to work before Maj hacks my balls off. She warned me the last time we were late that she was going to take possession of them the next time.” The visual of Maj’s hacking off his balls and keeping them in a jar on her desk at the salon brings a smile to my face. That crazy bitch would actually do it, too, which is why it’s so funny.
Purposefully walking out the door at a turtle’s pace, Slider literally shoves me out the door and into the waiting SUV. He throws the car into gear and peels out of the dirt driveway onto the curvy mountain road. I just smile and laugh at him while the time ticks closer to us being late yet again.
“It’s not fucking funny, Dani. It’s not your balls on the line!” he yells as we fly through a yellow light on Mountain Avenue. He drifts the SUV around the corner and barely squeezes into the parking space in front of the salon a few minutes later. “Tada!” he yells. “Three minutes to spare. Score! I get to keep my balls.” He laughs as I hop out of the passenger side of the SUV with him. I don’t have the heart to tell him that his clock is five minutes slow, thus making us nearly ten minutes late. We burst through the door and Maj smacks him upside the head.
“You’re late, Slider. When I tell you I want her here promptly at nine thirty in the morning, I mean nine thirty. Not nine thirty-eight,” she says while poking a fine-toothed comb into his chest. “If you want to make it in this club as a prospect, I’d suggest getting my ward here on time. Now scoot on back to the office, I need you to take a look at the computer. It’s doing weird shit again.”
Smiling at him, he flips me off as he shuffles back to the office. Slider told me he sucks at anything with computers, so he has to sneak Ratchet in the back to fix it. If she only knew half the shit of what he did back there. I caught him watching porn and jerking off when I went back to grab more cleaning supplies from the storage closet. That was something I will never erase from my memory. Trust me, I’ve tried.
The shop is busy today, so of course I have plenty of work to do. Maj keeps insisting that she’s going to teach me how to cut hair, but she’s delusional. Giving a suspected spy scissors isn’t exactly the brightest idea, even if I am innocent of their alleged crimes. An hour before close, the office phone rings and Slider rushes out.
“Maj, I need to run back to the clubhouse. Shit’s going down and he needs the manpower to curtail whatever the hell is going on. Can you watch Dani for me?” he quickly asks, pleading she’ll agree.
“Of course, now shoo. Don’t be late!” she screams as he runs out the door. “Men!” she exclaims. “Whether they’re bikers or metros, they’re always dramatic over the littlest things. You’d think my husband called to tell him Slider’s baby is about to pop out any second the way they go running around after him. The little shit can’t be on time bringing you to work, but he’ll be five minutes early when my husband calls.” She lets out a hearty laugh that echoes off the salon walls. She’s just about to finish up her second to last client for the night when the office phone rings again. I’m usually not permitted to answer the phones, but Maj sends me back to get it before it drives her crazy.
“Blazing Beauty Salon,” I answer.
“What the fuck are you doing answering the phones, Dani?” Hero yells into the receiver. “You know that’s one of the rules for being permitted to work at the salon.” Oh joy, my best friend is calling. Why me?
“Yes, Hero. I am well aware of the rules, but Maj is busy and I’m the only one here since Slider left. Is there something I can help you with, or did you call just to be a dick?”
“Feisty as ever, I see. You need to cancel her last appointment and get out of the salon. I’m sending someone right now to get you. We’re locking down the clubhouse. I know you have no clue what that means but tell Maj. She’ll know what to do,” he barks into the receiver. Before I can even reply, he abruptly hangs up on me. He’s such an asshole. He couldn’t even be bothered to say thanks for relaying the message.
Walking back out the workstations, Maj is just about to start cutting her client’s hair. “Who was it, Dani?” she asks as she snips a piece a hair from the woman’s bangs.