by A. Lynn
Less than ten minutes pass before I am backing my bike to the curb in front of Ma’s salon and walking inside to an overly chipper “Hey, Crow” from Lexi at the front desk.
“Hey, Lex. How are you doing today?" I'm quickly forgotten when the door opens again and Tex walks in.
“Hi, Tex," she gushes and blushes. A club slut that experiences embarrassment is a conundrum all on its own.
“Hey,” he says distractedly.
I glance over my shoulder to see that he didn’t even bother to lift his head out of his cell phone. I turn back just in time to see her face fall.
I feel bad for her, but all of the club sluts know the score. They come into the clubhouse with the expectation that a brother—any brother—will fall in love and claim them as their own, but that rarely happens. It's like seeing a fucking Bigfoot or some shit… everybody knows that he could be out there but good luck seeing that shit yourself.
I round the front desk to find Ma, but just as I pass the wall separating the front of the salon from the workstations, I stop dead in my tracks. There she is. Reagan. The woman that has had me so off my game is just standing there cutting a woman's hair as if the world wasn't just knocked off its axis. I feel my heart rate begin to climb, just standing there waiting for her to notice me.
But yeah, she doesn’t until Tex’s body collides with mine. “What the fuck, Crow? Walk much?”
She turns to see what happened and when her eyes meet mine, they go wide and her mouth makes the cutest little “o”. Yeah, I said cutest...Hardcore biker over here.
“Oh, shit!” Tex laughs and asks, “Isn’t that the girl from the club who ran out on you? Shit, I forgot about her! She’s the reason you ain’t been fucking anyone, isn’t she?” If this dick doesn’t stop talking, I’m going to beat the shit out of him.
Her cheeks heat with embarrassment at what this motherfucker just said and she promptly drops her eyes and continues cutting the woman’s hair.
“What the fuck, Tex?! Lower your mother fucking voice! You need to install a filter between your brain and your mouth. You embarrassed her, dickhead." This motherfucker just laughs. “Keep laughing and see what happens…” I start to say, but at the sudden silence, I look in his direction. He has locked eyes with a pretty girl with platinum blond hair a couple of chairs away from Reagan. “Close your mouth asshole, you’re starting to attract fucking flies.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” he says without looking away from her.
“Does someone want to tell me why I continue to hear all this foul ass language in my establishment?”
“Sorry, Ma,” I say and see Reagan tense in my peripheral. Why?
“Nuh-uh. You two dumb dicks… my office. Now,” she snaps. After Tex walks through the door, she promptly slams the door.
“What’s wrong, Ma?”
“What the fuck do you two think you were doing out there just now?” She asks as she rounds on us and I am quickly taken back to my childhood. Most children fear their fathers, not us...Ma was the ball buster in our house. She never let us get away with shit.
“What? We didn’t do anything. And sorry about the swearing, but your mouth could make the devil blush, Stella," Tex bravely says with a shrug as I sit there and wait for her to lose her shit.
3… 2… 1...
“Do I look like I give a fuck about the two of you running your fucking mouths?” And there it is, “I don’t give a shit about the swearing,” she fumes. “What I do give a shit about is the two of you eye fucking the new hires like they’re your next snack.”
“Ma…” I start but am quickly shut down by a pointed glare in my direction.
“Don’t ‘Ma’ me, Crow! I have only just built my staff back up after the girls walking out at the same fucking time,” she shakes her head in exacerbation. “Fucking Creed, Bob, Juice, and Unit. God damn man-whores! I have half a mind to ban those fucking assholes from coming in here.”
“Ma, it’s not like that.”
“Sure it isn’t. Why the fuck does it seem like none of you can get your dick wet anywhere else? I'm sure the girls over at Unsaintly Angels would be all to happy spread their legs for a brother. And let's not forget about the club sluts," she spits. “I like some of the new hires quite a bit, and I will be god damned if I let you run them off.”
I nod because I get it, I do; however, that doesn't change the fact that Reagan will be mine. "Tex, can you give me and Ma a few minutes?"
“You got it, Bro.”
“Tex, will you go to the basement and start bringing up the stuff I need, please?”
He nods and asks, “What do you need to be brought up?”
“I need two mani/pedi chairs, three barber chairs, mats, and however many mirrors are down there. The mani/pedi chairs are heavy as fuck, so I’d wait for Crow to help with them. Thanks, hun.”
Tex just smiles and walks out of the door.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know… Ma, she’s different.”
“That’s what you all say until you fuck, and then magically they end up being not so different after all.”
“Ma, look at my face.”
“I’m looking, Crow, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking at.”
“You know me better than anyone, do I look like I’m not being real?” I look her right in the eye and repeat, “she’s different.”
“Break it down for me. Help me to understand why I should just stand by and potentially let my unicorn up and leave when whatever the hell you think this is goes stale.”
“Do you remember the birthday celebration for Sky at Fallen?” She nods and I continue, “She was at the bar talking to Harley and I was at the pool tables Creed, Tex, and Unit. When she turned around and our eyes locked, it was like we were tethered together or something. I don’t know how to explain it. It was crazy.”
“Okay…” she says.
“So I went up to the bar to buy her a drink, but when I turned to find her in the crowd, she was in what looked like a very heated discussion with some guy and woman. When the guy and woman left, I made my way over to her, she was sitting there with her face buried in her hands. She looked so dejected. To lighten the mood a bit, I told her that she looked like she could use a drink and offered the one in my hand to her... but she very politely rejected it.”
“Good girl,” she says with a nod.
“Right,” I say with a little bit of pride. “So I called Harley and asked her to bring over two fresh ones. We sat there for a bit and had a conversation that didn't have to be put on or forced. It wasn't all about getting in her pants—which I do want to—but I just wanted to hear what she had to say. It was platonic-ish, if that makes any fucking sense at all. It was starting to get busier and louder, so I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere quieter so we could continue our conversation without screaming at one another.”
“Ah, Mijo,” she says with a laugh. “I do believe you have your match.”
I outright laugh when I say, “She thought I was asking her if she wanted to leave, and she handed my ass to me before I could explain what I meant.” I shake my head with a smile. “I thought I offended her, Ma. I was getting up to leave her be when she grabbed my hand to stop me and apologize for the misunderstanding. At the skin-to-skin contact—I have never felt anything like it—it felt like lava was flowing in my veins. It was intense, all together pleasure and pain. I never wanted it to end.” When we get back to the VIP, we're talking and getting to know each other some, Sky comes around the corner to give me shit for not being over there with her. Reagan looked over her shoulder locking eyes with Sky—it was odd—and the two of them to whispered the other’s name. Next thing I know: Reagan is a blur as she jets toward the exit. I gave chase, but the little Hou-fucking-dini is gone.”
“What do you want from this girl, Mijo?”
"At this moment? I'm not entirely sure, Ma. All I do know is that when I look at her the only thing that I think is 'mine'. I need a chance to explore th
is."
“Okay,” Ma says with a small smile on her face. “I hope you’re right about this.”
I open my mouth to reply when there is a knock on the door, drawing our eyes to Reagan standing there wringing her hands nervously. She quickly glances over to me before saying, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Stella, I know I have a few more hours on my shift but I have a family emergency that I have to deal with immediately. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s fine. I have a pretty open afternoon, I will take care of your clients this afternoon. Let me know if there is anything I can do.”
“Thanks,” she nods as she turns on her heel and rushes to the front door.
“Well, Crow, why are you still sitting here? Go get your girl.”
I jump to my feet and rush to follow her. By the time I get to her, she’s already in her car and pulling out of the parking lot. “Fuck!” I can’t seem to catch a break with this one.
I race back to Ma’s office and say, “Ma’, I know it’s against the rules but can you please give me her address and phone number?” She starts shaking her head causing me to say, “Please?”
“I can’t, Mijo. It’s against the law. I could get in serious trouble for violating employee privacy laws,” she says while rearranging some files on her desk.
“I know, Ma, sorry I asked."
“No worries,” She says giving me a pointed look as she lays a larger file labeled ‘New Hires’ on top of a stack of paper. “I need some coffee, I’ll be right back. You want any?”
My heart rate spikes as I see the gift she has just given me. Ball buster she may be, but she's the best.
“I’m good, Ma.” She just nods and walks out of the office. The second she is out of sight, I quickly open the cover and scan the papers for what I am looking for, and there it is:
Reagan Marks
565 Mooresville Rd.
Wickenburg, AZ 85361
(968)212-0041
Chapter 4
Reagan
One hour ago...
My phone is vibrating in my smock but I don’t have the time to look at it right now. I am in the middle of Mrs. Travis's blowout when my phone vibrates again and I start feeling a bit antsy. My phone rarely rings, but when it does it’s always to do with Jordan or Ryan.
So when it begins to vibrate again, turn off my blow dryer and say, “I am so sorry, Mrs. Travis, but I need a second.”
“Sure thing, dear. I’ll be here when you get back,” she says with a smile.
“Thanks. I’ll be right back,” I say as I pull out my phone. When I see three missed calls from Apple Core Learning Center—Jordan’s preschool. I take a calming deep breath and call them back.
A chipper voice answers, “Apple Core Learning Center, this is Ashley. How can I help you?”
“Hey, Ashley, it’s Reagan Marks. I had a few missed calls—sorry, I’m at work—is everything okay?”
“Hi, Reagan, can you hold on for a second? Olivia wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say.
“Great! I will let her know and she will be right with you,” Ashley says.
“Thanks,” I say as she puts me on hold.
“Reagan? Hi, I'm sorry to bother you at work, but I have been trying to get a hold of Ryan to no avail. This is like the fifth time that Jordan has not been picked up on time. We are usually able to get Ryan on the line but today it just keeps going straight to voicemail. This cannot continue," she says.
I pull my phone from my ear and see that it is four-thirty. Four-thirty?! His preschool lets out at three.
“Wait, what do you mean that this is like the fifth time? Why did you not bring it to my attention when I bring him in the mornings? Is he still there right now?”
“I just assumed you knew Ryan was late. I’m sorry. I will make sure that you are apprised of the situation in the future. And yes, he is still here right now.”
“That stupid fucking bitch," I fume. "I have to finish a blowout and then I will be there. Can you give me like thirty minutes? I feel shitty asking this of you, but my hands are tied."
“That's fine, Reagan."
“Thank you so much. We will talk when I get there.”
“Sounds good. See you soon,” she says as the line goes dead.
Now...
With Jordan in the backseat, I pull up to the curb in front of Sasha’s house to see if she can watch him for a bit. When I glance down the street to our house, I see Ryan’s car in the driveway and I am worried I may break the steering wheel with how hard I am gripping it. Shit is about to go down because I am at the end of my rope with this bitch.
“Want to see MiMi for a bit?”
“Yay,” he screeches when I unbuckle him.
The second his feet hit the sidewalk he takes off. I turn to see him hugging Sasha’s knees while she runs her fingers through his hair.
“Hey, baby boy, I just set some cookies out in the living room, why don’t you go eat a couple and turn the TV. on number nine. Curious George should be on. I will be in in a minute, I just want to talk to Rea for a minute.”
"Otay, MiMi," he says as he walks in the front door without a backward glance.
“What’s going on Rea? Weren’t you supposed to be at work until five today?” She asks with a confused look on her face.
“I was supposed to be on until six, but then Apple Core called and said that Ryan never picked him up. They called me at four-thirty, Sasha. His class is over at three," I say, feeling my anger flare again. "They said that this was the fifth time that she was late, but she always answered when they called. But then she said that this couldn't keep happening or she would have to report it. I had no choice but to remove her name from the pick-up list." I shake my head. "So I was hoping that you would be able to pick him up in the afternoons and keep him until I get home."
“Of course. Whatever I can do to help.”
This is the part that I have been dreading the whole drive over here. I sigh and say, “Sasha, I need for you to not let him go with Ryan. Under any circumstance. Can you do that? I know it is asking a lot, but I don’t know what else I can do here.”
She looks up the street towards our house and says, “Her car is in the driveway. Why didn’t she go pick him up? It isn’t making sense to me. What don’t I know?”
The first wave of tears glides down my cheeks as I betray my best friend to her mother. “About a month ago, I caught Ryan doing Heroin in her bedroom.”
She gasps, “Drugs? No, not Ryan. She wouldn’t do that to him.”
“I thought the same thing until she started seeing this guy from the bank a month or so ago. He has some kind of hold on her that I don't understand. I asked her if it was him that she started using with, but she won't tell me. She's gone more than she is home and growing more and more unpredictable every time I see her." I shake my head as more tears fall. "Could you please keep him for a bit? She and I are about to have a come to Jesus talk."
“Sure. Let me know if you need my help.”
“I will,” I say as I dry my face. “J, baby?”
“Yeah, Wea?”
“Hugs?”
He squeezes my neck and says, “You’s weavin’, Wea?”
“For a little bit, I’ll be back soon,” I say as I kiss his cheek.
“Otay, Wea. I’s woves you’s.”
“I love you, baby,” I say as I get to my car and head down the street to our house. I pull into the driveway, hop out, and make my way to the front door. My anger reaches a new level when I hear music that is loud enough to make the windows rattle.
Once inside, I walk directly to the stereo and turn it off. I don't see her down here so I climb the stairs to her bedroom. The door is slightly ajar but not open far enough to afford me a good vantage point. So, it looks like I’m going in blind.
I push the door open with my foot and yell, “What the fuck is your problem, Ryan? I can’t believe you have been slacking…” I trail off as I round the door and see her sitting
in her chair with a belt around her arm and a needle hanging from it. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” Still getting no reaction, I look her over and notice her overly gray pallor. My anger turns to dread instantly as I run to her and drop to my knees. I repeatedly smack her cheeks—not hard, but not gently either—only to feel that her skin is clammy and chilled. I press my fingers against the artery in her neck and I'm relieved to feel a beat. It's faint, but it's there.
"Ryan, what have you done?" I dig into my pocket and pull out my cell phone and dial nine-one-one.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“I think my roommate may have overdosed,” I rush out followed by sobs.
“Calm down ma’am and tell me what happened.”
“I came home from work early and found her in her room with a belt around her arm and a needle in her arm. She’s all sweaty and gray.”
“What is the address?”
“Five sixty-five Mooresville Rd.”
“Okay, I have help on the way to you right now.”
“Okay,” I cry.
“What’s your name?”
“Reagan Marks.”
“Okay, Reagan, is she breathing?”
“Yes, but barely. Her pulse is faint, too.”
“Okay, that’s good. Help should be getting to you soon, can you hear the sirens?”
“No, not yet,” I sob. “I’m going to go downstairs and wait for them.”
“No, stay with your roommate until you hear the sirens and then go down to meet them.”
“Okay,” I say as more and more tears make streaks down my face.
“Does she still have a pulse and breathing?”
“Yes,” I say. “I hear the sirens now, I’m going to go meet them.”
“Okay, Reagan. I will let you go so you can talk to the EMTs and officers.”
“Thank you,” I say as I end the call.
By the time I make it to the front door, the cops are there getting ready to knock. I open the door and say, “She is upstairs.”
As we walk up the stairs he peppers me with questions. “What’s going on?”