Hurt You

by Abby Mccarthy

  His face softened up and a slight smile appeared. I noticed a few tiny crinkles that I never paid any attention to around his eyes and the slightest dimple on his left cheek hidden behind light facial hair.

  “I thought you didn't do hair out of your place?” Oh my goodness! I couldn't believe he remembered that conversation; it was months ago. I remembered it that’s for sure, but considering he didn’t pay me much mind after that I thought it must have been playful flirting.

  “My hair doesn’t count,” I countered.

  “Then mine doesn’t either. Where do you want me?”

  “You want me to do your hair?”

  He didn’t respond. He just stared at me. I was learning Jules' stares spoke volumes. This one said, “What the fuck else do you think I’m talking about.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Do what you want. Just don't make me look like a chooch.”

  “Can I cut it?” I asked biting my lip because my wheels were turning at what I wanted to do.

  “I’m all yours,” he said, his icy blue eyes meeting mine. I felt my cheeks flush. Jules was sexy in a slightly punk-rock, tatted up biker kind of way that really worked for him. I felt a thrill at his words. I wanted him. In fact, since I first met him he starred in more than one of my late night, love by the rabbit fantasies, but this was wrong. I couldn't bring him into my Antonio shit any more than I could bring my brothers.

  “Grab a chair. I’ll go get the clippers,” I said hastily, making my escape.

  I grabbed a smock and my clippers, then my eyes landed on my straight razor. I hadn’t done a straight razor shave in some time because I mostly did chicks’ hair. I spotted some white towels that I would need and grabbed them as well, then headed back out. Jules pulled up a chair and was sitting in my kitchen.

  I wrapped the smock around Jules's shoulders. His hair was currently cut close to the scalp around the sides and was long on top. “I’m going to bleach it first,” I said and I got to work mixing up my bleach solution. I coated his hair which didn't take much time at all and then I pulled the towel off my hair. I needed to add my deep conditioning treatment while my hair was still wet for it to work best.

  I set the timer for the bleach and then got busy adding the treatment to my hair. It needed to sit for a while once it was on so I wound it up and put a large claw clip in to hold it in place. I had a black tank top on and black yoga pants. I wasn't trying to be sexy. I was just a woman working on her hair. While I did this I felt Jules’ eyes on me. He didn't talk or say much, he just watched. My brothers were a gabby bunch, but Jules was different. His quiet nature made it feel like the words he used were way more calculated.

  The timer dinged. I had Jules lean over the sink and rinsed him out. He sat back down and I grabbed the clippers. I first touched up around his hair where it was almost shaved. Then, I took out my shears and began going to work. I took a lot off. He wouldn't be able to throw it in a ponytail any more, but it was long enough in the front that it had a David Beckham type of sexiness to it.

  Once I was done with the shears, I took my straight razor out from its black cloth bag and began going to work. Jules still didn't say anything, he just continued to watch me. I warmed a towel in my microwave then started to smooth shaving cream on his face and neck. Not all men would be comfortable with a woman taking a straight razor to their skin, but Jules was not like most men.

  I brought the razor up to his skin and was about to make the first swipe when his hand reached out and grabbed my wrist. I looked at his hand on my skin, again getting that yummy tingling feeling in all the right spots just from his skin on mine. I looked at his eyes and finally he broke the silence.

  “Leave the chin,” he said. They were easy enough words, but for me they held a certain level of trust and I wished at that moment that I could tell him everything going on with me.

  I made the first swipe against his skin and his eyes held mine. Oh god, what was he doing to me with that look? It was intense and sexy. Images of me straddling his lap filled my head, but I pushed them out, just not fast enough that I wasn’t able to stop my body from reacting. My nipples were hard under my tank top and I was doing everything in my power not to look down and draw attention there.

  Another swipe, and I wiped the blade.

  Jules didn't move. He stayed perfectly still knowing any sudden moves from my shiny sharp blade could result in a cut to his skin. A few more swipes and I was just about done. I grabbed the white towel that I warmed and began wiping the rest of the cream off of his skin. I let my thumb glide over his cheek, not able to stop myself from feeling the smoothness of it. I tried to play it off like the touch meant nothing, but I couldn't fool him. He saw right through me.

  His nostrils flared and his eyes dilated, making the color appear darker. For a second, I waged war with myself.

  I needed him, but it wouldn't be fair.

  I wanted him, but at what cost?

  I tried to hurry away, but I wasn’t fast enough. He captured my wrist and swung me close to him. So close I was practically on top of his lap. My breathing became shallow and as much as I wanted to crash my mouth down on top of his, words from last night rang out loud and clear, “No one touches you.”

  I wasn't quick enough to pull back and tell him no. His mouth descended on mine and it wasn't a gentle, soft kiss. No. It was a hard, tongues twisting, bodies reacting, I’m going to rip your clothes off and fuck you kiss. It was filled with passion and purpose. The only purpose I think that kiss could’ve had was to make it so that no man's lips would ever feel adequate again.

  His hand caressed my breast and his thumb stroked over my nipple. I reacted by grinding my hips forward and swinging my leg over his lap so I was, in fact, on top of him. His other hand came up around my throat. His thumb stroked my voice box and a tiny whimper came out, vibrating against our tongues. Jules’ fingers were splayed outward and dug into my collar bone as a reaction to my noises. The sting of my bite mark crashed my reality down hard.

  “Stop!” I pulled myself off of his lap as quickly as I could. It was like his touch suddenly burned me. He looked at me confused and also a little pissed, but mostly confused.

  “This can’t happen,” I said righting my clothes. “You have to leave.”

  “Jenny.”

  My name sounded strangled coming out of his mouth, and I noticed just how worked up he still was by the bulge in his jeans. Bad Jenny. Move your eyes away. Don’t look. You know the consequences.

  “No Jules, this isn't going to happen between us.”

  He stood up and took the cape off, laying it down on the chair. He was calm and in control, nothing at all how I felt. He moved close to me and brushed his fingers around my bite, “It’s because of this, isn’t it?” he asked.

  I didn't want to lie to him and didn’t really think I could if I tried, so I straightened my shoulders and gave him my best bitch glare.

  He ignored it. “You’re not ready,” he said and then picked up my hand held mirror, gave himself a once over, me a chin lift, then walked out the front door, but not before saying, “Lock your door.”

  Chapter 4

  I tried my best to pretend that every time I saw Jules it didn't crush me. I did everything I could. Acted wild with Maura, and pretended that life was grand. I would say things in front of Jules to Maura about my sex life, pretending that I was still the carefree woman who could have casual sex and it didn't matter. I needed him so far off my scent that he didn't want to look at me, but true to his word, if I was at Benny’s he had eyes on me or one of his brothers did.

  One month after the incident, it was Sunday morning-ish, meaning I slept in because Maura and I stayed in and had a Jason Lee and Kevin Smith movie marathon. We had a sober night filled with us reciting one-liners from Clerks, Mallrats, and Chasing Amy. My personal favorite line, “What’s a Nubian?” Maura’s, “The Jedi mind trick! Holy shit, motherfuckin' Yoda and shit!” If these movies were not listed as classic
s yet, I had no doubt that they would be.

  She didn't leave until it was way past late. No drinking meant I slept in. I enjoyed every second of it. I took my time in the morning. I puttered around in my pajamas, making coffee, flipping through a hairstyle magazine, and finally catching up on my DVR’d Big Brother.

  A knock at my door interrupted my have-nots challenge so I paused the television and unlocked the door. I threw it open, surprised to find Jules.

  “What are you doing here?” I questioned.

  “Good morning to you too,” he said and walked into my kitchenette area, grabbed a chair and set it in the middle of my tiny kitchen. “Need a touch-up.”

  I stared at Jules in shock and disbelief. I didn't think he would be back after the way things ended last time.

  “You know you could make an appointment,” I surmised.

  “Told you, I’m not going to a salon. The girl who used to color my hair moved to New York.”

  “Fine,” I said. It came out bitchy and that wasn’t something I needed to be with Jules. He was always nice to me. Even now, could I really blame him for coming over?

  “It’s okay, I’ll fix your hair, just can you call first next time?”

  “How about this? First Sunday of the month, I’ll be here at ten unless something comes up, then I’ll call.”

  “Okay, that works for me. I’ll just go get my stuff.”

  I grabbed what I needed from the bathroom. This time I left the straight razor. I didn’t think that I needed that intimacy between us again. I entered the kitchen and mixed some bleach, then threw the smock around his shoulders. Jules didn't watch me this time like he did the last time. While he was here, it felt much more like a regular client. With his eyes not really lingering on me, I fell into my hairdresser mode of small talk and casualness.

  “So, how was your weekend? Did you do anything good?” I asked.

  “Nothing special. Hung out at the clubhouse mostly and worked.” I could do this. I could totally have a regular conversation with him and not get all frazzled.

  “That’s good,” I said, then continued on, “Maura and I stayed in last night and watched movies.”

  “Cool,” was his one-word response. Okay, he wasn't up for small talk. I got busy applying the bleach to his roots. It didn't need to sit for very long so before I knew it, I was trimming the top. I had my clippers out and shaved the sides of his hair. I went to show him his hair in my hand-held mirror, but he declined.

  “Gotta run,” he said, and dropped a fifty on the counter and left. No more heat between us. No more looks of want from him. He was removed. I could only guess that our kiss we shared wasn’t as good for him as it was for me.

  So, that’s how it went with Jules and me. He was around, but more to watch out for me. Snow came and melted again, and before I knew it a year had passed. Maura didn't question the extra eyes on me, she thought that Daws was just being his usual protective self. Jules didn’t come on to me. He never flirted. He kept his distance except for once a month when he would show up at my apartment and I would cut his hair. It was always more professional than personal. Occasionally, he would make small talk and ask me about my family. I could ask him a question or two about his, but he would give curt answers like he didn't want to let me in. I couldn't blame him.

  He gave me space and I figured that he was over the kiss; at least one of us was. I longed for his lips on me, but it didn't really matter. Whenever I would think that perhaps Antonio wasn't interested in his threats anymore, something would happen. I would be at the beauty supply store and he would pass me in an aisle whispering, “Soon, Bellissima.”

  Antonio hadn’t put his hands on me again, but he was making his presence more known. Nothing noticeable to an outsider looking in. He would stop by my mom’s house with Carlo for Sunday dinners. He’d never say anything inappropriate to me around my brothers or mom, but I could tell he was listening to what they had to say, making sure there was no mention of me with anyone. Occasionally I would get a look from him that would leave me shaking and I would run to the bathroom to calm my nerves.

  One Sunday, I was in the kitchen after dinner and I was loading the dishwasher. Normally, I would have a bunch of people in the kitchen helping me clean, but this Sunday Antonio was in the house and I wanted to stay as far away from him as I could.

  “You sure you got the dishes? You helped cook, and you know the rule if you cook you don’t have to clean,” Marcus asked, offering to help.

  “The game’s on. Go watch it. I’ll be fine,” I shooed him out of the kitchen.

  “Not going to argue with that one. The Phillies won two in a row.”

  I loaded the last dish and shook and felt my skin begin to crawl as Antonio walked into the kitchen.

  “You’ve been a good girl, maybe I should reward you,” Antonio said quietly then ran a finger up my arm. It gave me goosebumps, and not the good kind.

  “Leave me alone,” I said through gritted teeth, not wanting to let anyone hear me.

  “Now, why would I leave someone alone that belongs to me?”

  “Please, not now, not at my mom’s,” I couldn't do this today. Jules was over earlier for his usual cut and I was already wound tight from that. I didn’t have the mindset to add Antonio to the mix. Somehow, it was like he sensed how tightly wound I was, so like the predator he was, he decided to play with his food.

  He stepped away from me when Gino walked into the kitchen to grab the double chocolate silk cream pies from the fridge.

  “Here. Let me help you with those,” Antonio offered, placing his hand on Gino's shoulder. To anyone else this touch would look innocent, but I knew better. I knew what he was capable of and seeing his hands on my nephew’s shoulder was a reminder to me of who was in control. I practically ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I trembled in fear and my stomach clenched. I hate that man more than I could ever hate anyone. I was so scared that I began to feel nauseous. I dropped to my knees and heaved all of my dinner.

  “Jenny, honey, are you okay?” Mom asked through the door.

  I stood up after the last bit was emptied, “Yeah, Mom. Just not feeling good. I’ll be out in a second.”

  I had to get the shaking of my hands under control. I couldn't let them see my obvious fear. I looked at myself in the mirror, then splashed some water on my face. You can do this, don't let him rattle you in front of them. After several moments of breathing in and out, I got the shaking under control and walked back into the living room.

  Everyone was engrossed in the ballgame. They’d had pie while I was in the bathroom. This was evident by the empty plates that were sitting with chocolate smears on them and a few crumbs left. My mom’s eyes caught mine, “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m just not feeling well. I think I’m going to head home.”

  Being in a house with concerned brothers meant the men paused the TV. “You want me to take you?” Carlo asked concerned.

  “Do you need any medicine? I think mom has some Pepto?” Vito asked.

  “Oh dear, I have some frozen Italian Wedding soup. It’s better than chicken noodle for a belly upset. You’ll just have to warm it in the microwave,” my mom said and then turned to Gino, “Honey, can you grab that from the downstairs freezer?” Gino looked at me with concern and ran to the basement. Like the good Italian family that we were, we had a second fully equipped kitchen in the basement.

  “Really, you guys. I’m fine. I’m just a bit queasy,” I hated that they were fussing over me. More than that, I hated that Antonio sat in one corner of the room in his designer suit and watched me with a smug grin on his face.

  I avoided looking at his eyes, quickly slipped on my sandals, took the soup from Gino’s hands and told everyone again that I was fine and just needed to lay down. I hurried home, locked the door behind me, walked into my bedroom and locked that door too, then crawled in bed. That night was one of the many restless sleeps that Antonio caused.

  Days wo
uld pass without anything and then I’d get texts that would make my stomach turn. Things like, “I loved the taste of your skin.” or, “I’m watching you. I’m watching your family. Remember.” and my favorite to really dig the knife in, “No one touches you.”

  I had no idea when Antonio would decide that my life was over, so I tried my best to live it to the fullest. Maura and I would have huge parties at her cottage on the lake. We would go out on the wave runners and then have enormous cookouts for all of her family, and by family, I don’t just mean Mickey. The whole club would show up. Sometimes they would bring their families and sometimes it was just the guys. Other times, Maura and I drank beers by the bonfire well into the night. We didn't spend that much time at the clubhouse. It was like Maura felt freer outside of that place even though she still had Daws chasing after her.

  When I wasn't out with Maura, working, or spending time with my nephew, I would drive up to the overlook that Jules brought me to and would try to come up with a solution. I was afraid to tell my family because if Antonio had something to do with Gus’ death, who knew what he would do to the rest of my family. I thought about telling Maura but that idea just seemed like it would put everyone in jeopardy, including Jules. Even though Jules hadn’t paid me much mind, my gut said if he found out about Antonio, he would go after him. I couldn't risk Antonio hurting him. I thought about going to Carlo and Antonio’s boss Carmine, and by boss I mean boss. Carmine was dangerous and always scared me and what if he was aware of what was going on? Police? Not in this town. Every way I looked at the situation, I was screwed.

  Tonight, Maura wanted me to meet her at the clubhouse which wasn’t unusual but it wasn’t the norm either. I dressed in a red tank top that had a slight sparkle, black capris, and my red peep toes. My hair was down in long waves, the color was pretty subdued at that point and my make-up was done to the nines including a red lip. I went all out which wasn’t always the case for me if we were just hanging out, but tonight was something special. I was turning twenty-five. Maura hadn’t mentioned if she knew it was my birthday, but my gut said she knew.