Capone_Rebel Guardians MC

by Liberty Parker

  He points to her and says, “She was here first.”

  Turning to her, I smile and ask, “How can we help you today?”

  “I’d like a trim, please.”

  “Come this way and I’ll get you shampooed.” Our instructors used to say to fake it until we make it, and I’m gonna act like I know what the hell I’m doing. While at the shampoo bowl, I make brief conversation with the client and find out her name is Taylor. She’s new in town and was going to head over to the next town when she saw the salon. Great, nothing like major pressure. Finishing the shampoo, I quickly put a towel around her head and lead her over to my station, smiling with pride at how pretty my new tools look on my rolling stand.

  “Okay, so, when you say ‘trim’ what are you talking about?” I ask her. Some people think a trim is barely a quarter of an inch, but others think it’s five inches. I want to be clear.

  “Get rid of the dead ends, I don’t care if it’s an inch or six,” she states, and I feel the pressure leave my shoulders...I’ve got this.

  “It looks like you’ve got layers already, did you want to keep them or are you trying to grow them out?”

  “Grow them out. I’ve heard...isn’t there something called a long layer?” she asks me.

  I look at her in the mirror and nod. Combing through her hair I find the shortest layer she has and place my hand there and tell her, “This is the shortest layer you’ve got. I can do long layers up to this point, but I don’t think you’re looking to go this short.”

  Taylor starts laughing when she sees where it ends up at before replying, “Oh my goodness, no! That’s too short. I had a bad haircut about six months ago and have been trying to let it grow so I can get back to one length.”

  “Alright, let me see what we can do then to make this a good experience for you,” I tell her, grabbing my clips so I can separate her hair. I’m soon lost in correcting what was previously done, while making sure that I don’t cut too much. I keep Taylor informed and when I tell her that one side is obviously longer than the other, she looks at me in the mirror and says, “Fix it. I don’t care if it’s going to be shorter, it’ll grow. I want it right.” I can’t say that I blame her, who wants to walk around with one side of their hair longer than the other...especially when it wasn’t done purposely.

  So lost in what I’m doing, I don’t notice Cassarah next to me until she says, “Doing good, babe, knew it was a good idea for you to come onboard,” before she walks back to her station. The pride from those words alone, adds to my self-confidence, and I no longer find myself so scared of putting myself out there.

  “Do you like a lot of product in your hair? I usually suggest a little bit of mousse to help get the style, but some people don’t like it.” I don’t normally use product myself, but I like giving clients the option. Plus, I like to make them feel great when they walk out the door.

  “Nope, I’m good with whatever you do,” Taylor replies. “By the way, I know it’s not dry yet, but I’m liking what I see so far.”

  I grin at her as I grab some product and put it in her hair before I blow-dry it out. Twenty minutes later, I’m putting the finishing touches on it with a flat iron. “Oh my gosh, this is what I was looking for when I got that shitty cut!” she exclaims, turning around and hugging me. I’m still not used to that, so it takes me a second to hug her back.

  “I’ll jot down some notes for you in my book so we remember what we did. It’ll take a few more cuts to get it all one length, though,” I warn her as I take her up to the register so Cassarah can cash her out.

  “Bridget?” she asks as I turn to go and clean up my station.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have a card?” Cassarah looks up from the register and beams me a blinding smile, then gives me both thumbs up and it takes everything I have not to crack up and do a dance right here at the entrance of the salon.

  “Not yet, I think Cassarah is ordering some, but if you call the shop, you can book an appointment with me.”

  “Good, because I think I’ve found my new hairdresser.” Wow! That feels so good to hear out of my ‘first’ official client’s mouth.

  “Look forward to seeing you again, Taylor. Have a great day!”

  I go back to my station and quickly fill out a client card for her. I’ll fill in more information the next time she’s here because I want to offer specials for those whose birthdays are coming up, once I clear it with Cassarah that is.

  “Here, babe, she left this for you,” Cassarah says as she hands me a twenty. “I’d frame it if I were you, if it weren’t a twenty, anyway.” I start laughing at her words.

  The rest of the day passes in a blur with Cassarah allowing me to take several more walk-in clients, even though a few times she had to show me a particular technique. I love learning though, so I allowed her to show me some things my instructors never did. It makes me feel accomplished and satisfied at the end of the day when we’re closing up. “This is one of the best days I’ve ever had!”

  “It was a busy day, and you took it in stride, I’m so proud of you,” Cassarah says, and I feel my heart skip a beat with excitement.

  “Thanks to the two of you,” I reply, looking at her and Lulu.

  Cassarah shakes her head at me and states, ‘‘It was all you,’’ and I look over at Lulu to see her bobbing her head up and down in agreement.

  “Girl, if someone wants to learn, no one can stop them. If you don’t have the desire, it doesn’t matter how much we show you, you won’t get it,” Lulu states. “You, my friend, have the gift and we’re going to mentor the hell outta you until you no longer doubt your abilities.”

  “I think...I think I made a good choice here,” I murmur.

  “I know you did,” Cassarah emphatically states. “You’re both an asset to Cissy’s Place and I can’t wait to see what the future holds. Now let’s get outta here, it’s clean and we’re set for tomorrow. Go take a load off.”

  Six

  Capone

  A week later, I find myself still following these punk ass bitches around. Good news is that I have more information on them than what has been previously known about them. Not only do they traffic children, sell and manufacture their own drugs, harass and stalk those who can’t defend themselves, they are also into child pornography. I’ve watched as they hand over thumb-drives for wads of cash. Curious about what it was they were selling, I hired my informant to go and purchase one. When I opened it up, I was so appalled that I actually threw my laptop across the room. Needless to say, I have to make another trip to the electronics store. I really hate fucking shopping, so this is something else I need to take out of these punk’s asses. I end the night’s watch deciding I’ve had enough and call in letting Chief know I’m leaving. He has me let him know when I’m going to be there so none of his officers come up to me while I’m in a parked vehicle on the side of the street and draw attention to myself. Attention that is not needed while I’m still gathering information and writing reports. With the child pornography shit I found, we’ve got so many alphabet suits walking around it makes me wanna puke. They’ve got one agent in charge spearheading everything, but there are several departments involved. I don’t concern myself with that part, I’m just collecting information. To the electronics store I go. Thank God I know exactly what I want, right?

  Walking up the steps to Bridget’s apartment, I use the key I talked her out of and head inside, anxious to set up both laptops I bought before she’s done working for the day. She’s going to kill me, I know it, but the one she has is so fucking old, it takes forever to warm up, won’t hold a charge, and then craps out halfway through whatever it was she attempting to do. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like anything’s been fucked with inside the apartment and I breathe out a sigh of relief as I hit the code on the alarm once I’m inside. I hope Bridge has had a good day, because I’m ordering take out tonight, and she hates it when I spend money ‘frivolously’. Her words, not mine. To me, it’s taking ca
re of my needs and not making her stand on her feet any longer than she already has while working downstairs at the salon. Smiling at how business has taken off for the women, I grab a beer and sit down at the table and open the first box. I have plans of downloading spreadsheets so she can help with inventory, keep up with what she’s earning personally, and manage what bills she has. Not that I let her pay those, claiming that I’m taking over her space, the least I can do is cover the bills. She knows what I’m doing, but luckily, she hasn’t called me out on my bullshit excuses. What can I say, I like taking care of her and her everyday needs. As I wait for the laptop to go through the updates, I smile thinking about how comfortable she’s gotten with me being around. How confident she’s becoming in her skin, with her friends and in her job. While I’d love a bigger place, this space is where she’s finding herself and coming into her own, so I’ll be patient. And apparently, according to others, where I’m supposedly falling in love with her. It makes me happy to know that I’m not the only one who sees the two of us becoming a long-term relationship. I’ve just never been in love, so I have no frame of reference, but I’ve been mulling Axe’s words over and think it’s likely I do love her. I hope that she comes around to wanting sex soon, however, because waking up with her delectable body pressed into mine and being unable to do anything about it has my dick nearly raw at this point. I hear the key in the door and look up to see her coming in, a smile on her face even though it’s obvious she’s exhausted.

  “Hey, you,” she says, kicking her shoes off by the door. Why is it that small act alone is enough to have me needing a cold shower?

  “Hey, Bridge. How was your day?” I ask, my voice sounding husky to my ears. I stand and go over to her to give her a hug. I try to touch her at every opportunity to get her used to me. While she was resistant at first, she sometimes initiates the contact, which would have me cheering inside if it didn’t make me sound like a fucking pussy. Ah, who am I kidding? Where she’s concerned, I am. I’ll never admit that to anyone but myself however, I have a reputation to uphold and don’t need my brothers calling for my man card. Although those fuckers have all given up theirs as far as I can tell. What other man would sleep next to a sexy as fuck woman and not do anything but sleep?

  Her grin splits her face as she starts to tell me everything she got to do. A lot of it goes over my head, but I love hearing her voice so animated so I let her talk. “Are you ready for your exams?” I ask during a brief break.

  “I believe so, yes. Both Cassarah and Lulu quiz me on the stuff that’ll be on the written exam during down-times, and Cassarah has me pretty much handling all of the walk-ins. Did I mention I absolutely love my new shears?” I smile because she tells me every day how much she likes the items she bought with all the gift cards she received at her party.

  “Yeah, baby, you have mentioned that fact a time or two,” I tease. “Why don’t you go grab a shower or something and I’ll order food.”

  “Why are we spending money on delivery when we have perfectly good food in the fridge that one of us can cook?” she asks. I cough to cover the laughter that wants to bubble out of me. She’s so freaking adorable when she takes a stance against me.

  I sigh before answering because one, I already knew this was coming up, and two, because I really am too tired to have this conversation. “Well, because I’m exhausted, you’ve been on your feet all day and I want something that neither one of us has slaved over a stove for.”

  “I just hate to see you spending money like that, Capone. I mean, I can buy dinner. My tips are off the chain since we’re so busy. I get the shampoo tips, plus any clients I service!”

  “As long as I’m here, I’ll be paying. It’s a guy thing, Bridge.”

  She huffs out a breath in exasperation before saying, “Fine. I guess. I’ll just figure out something I can do to show my appreciation.” Yeah, I know how she can do that, but she’s not there. Yet. Oh, but the day she is, there will be no holding back, I’ve had enough shower time with my hand to thoughts of her. I’m ready to taste and feel the real deal, my imagination is outstanding, but I have a feeling the real thing will blow my ever-loving mind.

  “What has that smirk on your face?” she asks me.

  “Nothing, sugarplum.” What? Since when do I use loving nicknames for anyone? Fuck that shit, I’m definitely not ready for that.

  “Sugarplum...yeah, no that isn’t working for me,” she states, hands on her hips. Whew, I nearly wipe my brow at her demand...because that’s a missile I don’t want to have to dodge, nor something I want to attempt to get myself out of.

  I start chuckling at the picture she makes, standing there all bent out of shape over a nickname. One I’m still shocked as shit I let pass my lips. I’m well and truly fucked where she’s concerned. “Fine, we’ll take sugarplum outta the line up,” I reply, giving her a wink. I mentally pat myself on the back for the way I dodged that one.

  “Line up? What line up?”

  “Don’t mind me, I’m not in my right frame of mind...let’s get back to other topics to talk about.”

  “Okay...what’s with the laptops?” she asks, pointing at the table where both laptops are still going through their updates.

  “Went shopping.”

  “And what? Two laptops jumped into your cart and screamed ‘take us home’?” Fuck, she’s funny sometimes and I don’t think she’s even aware of that fact.

  “Not exactly. I needed a new one and figured I could set the second one up for you so you could do your hair stuff on it. Y’know, like keep up with your earnings, that kind of thing.” The look on her face has me wondering if I overstepped, but where she’s concerned, I’ll take that leap. Every single day. But then, a beautiful smile lights up her face.

  “I know I shouldn’t accept it, but that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Okay, now I’m confused. I thought she’d pop her top, but she’s actually okay with it? I’m worried I’m being set up here.

  “You like it?” I ask, scratching my head.

  “I love it! But! I’m going to pay you back for this one,” she holds up her hand when I go to argue, “no, wait, I need this so I’m going to accept it, but I want to stand on my own two feet as much as I can...on my own, so you will take payments on it...understood?”

  Look at her, standing up for herself and what she believes in!

  “I’m so proud of you,” I state.

  “Hmmm. That doesn’t tell me if you understand where I’m coming from, Capone.”

  “I getcha babe, but let’s not figure out the logistics of it tonight.”

  She rolls her eyes but says, “fine,” and huffs her way over to the laptop to check it out. I got her a good one too, not something that’s going to crap out on her or need to constantly update every time she does something or adds a new program.

  “What d’ya want for dinner?” I ask as she sits down at the table and starts looking at the instruction manual.

  “Kinda been in the mood for spaghetti and meatballs,” she replies, flipping through all the books that came with the laptop. No clue why, because it takes you through a step-by-step tutorial but I’m keeping my mouth shut.

  “On it,” I tell her, pulling up a menu from a local Italian restaurant. “I’ll place the order then have a prospect go grab it and bring it by. You want a salad? Bread?”

  “Definitely garlic bread,” she replies.

  “Got it, Bridge,” I state, calling in our order. I add a few other things, because I’m in the mood for a variety of things, and this way, we’ll have leftovers. Everyone knows that pasta tastes better the second day, right?

  “Oh! Did you order dessert?” she asks. I start laughing because she was so focused on looking through everything that she totally missed that I ordered a bunch of those as well.

  “Yeah, baby, I got dessert covered too.” I see her eyes soften at my use of ‘baby’ and file it away for future reference.

  “Did you happen to get chocolate cannolis
?” she asks with a hopeful look.

  “Sure did, I know what you like, I even got enough for you to snack on throughout the week.” She squeals and jumps on me, and wouldn’t you know it, my dick springs to life. But when she plants her lips on mine, my mind goes haywire, and I lose all train of rational thought.

  Gently cupping her face, I wait, almost holding my breath, to see if she’s going to allow this to go further or not. When she softly sighs, I take that as my cue and lightly stroke my tongue across her bottom lip before touching the tip to hers. Her head slants further to the side, and I pull her close, deepening the kiss. I’m losing myself in her taste and have to remind myself that she’s not ready to go further than this, but dammit, my dick is screaming in protest at not being able to sink himself into her. I pull away to keep myself in check, and she moans in protest.

  “I need a minute,” I tell her trying to get my body under control. It takes a few minutes to get there, I count everything I can think of, sheep, ball player statistics, anything to occupy my mind on other things.

  The wonder on her face as she touches her lips has me thinking that she wasn’t kissed very often, something I plan to rectify as much as possible. “You okay, Bridge?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she softly says. “Didn’t realize...that is...hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say here. So, yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Bridget? Am I the first man to ever kiss you?”

  “No, not the first man, just the first one who means it,” she says, ducking her head.

  I tilt her chin so she can’t avoid my eyes. “Nuh uh, nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed by, remember?”

  “I know, but dammit, Capone, sometimes I feel like some backwoods country girl or something. By now, most of my peers have dated, fallen in love, gotten married, had kids and broken up with several boyfriends in between. Me? I never did any of that.”