Protagonized

by Shannon Myers

  He rested his forearms on the counter with a smirk. “C’mon, tell me.”

  I frowned at the fact that my heart beat a little faster when he leaned in closer and whispered, “You scared?”

  Kamdyn fanned herself from behind Jake and mouthed, he’s so hot.

  I froze with my fingers still hovering over the keyboard. “You’re—”

  What was I going to say?

  You make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time?

  I don't know whether I want to murder or make out with you?

  I settled for, “You’re... overwhelming.”

  His lips pursed, and he nodded to himself. “Overwhelming…”

  I looked back down at my keyboard as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. I hadn’t planned on admitting it. At least not out loud.

  Without another word, he pushed off the counter and went back to his chair by the door. Kamdyn looked at me in confusion before hissing, “Overwhelming? What does that even mean?”

  I shrugged. “He’s just—”

  “A Greek god? The finest man to ever grace the doors of this salon? My next mistake?” She leaned on the granite counter, eyes glued to the back of Jake’s head.

  “Kam, you don’t want a guy like that. It would actually be worse than being dumped by text. Just…” I paused. “Just know your worth…and then add tax.”

  She turned away from her Greek god and squinted at me. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Oh, good,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Will you let me know when you do?”

  “C’mon, Jake,” she called. “Let’s get you that haircut.” She led him into her booth before pointing her index and middle finger at her eyes and then back at me.

  “Thanks for all of your great advice, Hayden,” I muttered under my breath. “I’m just going to disregard every bit of it.”

  I wanted to hiss at her, like Bootsy did when I took the tablet away from her while she was watching bird videos.

  "How was your break?”

  I jumped and spun around to face my boss. “Shelley, hi! I—well, I—”

  “Listen, I was on a cruise and we were in Grand Turk- you know, Turks and Caicos? Well, it didn’t even feel like fall. So sunny and warm. And humid. God, my hair looked like a frizzy nightmare for the majority of the trip.”

  She continued gesturing with her hands, describing her trip and all of the ways she’d been disappointed. Any time she traveled, she shut the salon down, so that her stylists could travel too. She seemed to live in a world where everyone had a disposable income and wasn’t depending on their next paycheck to make rent.

  I nodded and smiled as she rambled on about pristine beaches and drinks with umbrellas in them, but I’d completely zoned out of the conversation. I blocked the sound of Shelley’s voice, straining to hear what was being said in booth number seven.

  Kamdyn wasn’t thinking clearly; obviously. She’d just been dumped. Maybe she felt she needed to flirt with a man to feel better about herself.

  I gnawed at my lip, ridding it of the lip gloss I’d painstakingly applied in the bathroom an hour ago. My stomach was in knots and Shelley had yet to pause to take a breath.

  There was a soft thump and then a giggle and I was convinced that if I’d had anything other than coffee in me, it’d be making a reappearance right about now.

  What if they were screwing each other’s brains out under one of the hair dryers? I could picture it, the two of them just going at it like majestic giraffes, with no regard to the feelings of the fun-sized receptionist at the front.

  “Hayden?” Shelley waved a hand in front of my face. “Did you just hiss at me?”

  Damn it.

  I shook my head. “No, I coughed. My throat was dry.” I tried to recreate it but only succeeded in sounding like I had emphysema.

  “Do you need a lozenge?” Shelley offered. “They’re good for lubricating your throat.”

  “You need throat lubricant, Hayden?”

  I spun around, expecting messy hair and a guilty smile, but Jake looked the same. His hair was shorter on the sides, but his face had no traces of the cotton candy pink lipstick Kamdyn was sporting. I breathed a soft sigh of relief that it had just been a haircut.

  “I’m good, thank you,” I replied, jutting my chin up.

  My boss extended a hand across the counter. “Hello, I’m Shelley. And you are?”

  “My parole officer,” I interjected as Jake reached for her hand.

  Shelley’s phone buzzed, and she stared at it distractedly. “So nice to meet you,” she replied, without once looking up. “I’ll just be in my office, Hayden.”

  Jake moved around the counter until he was facing me. “Miss me?”

  “Not really. I see that Kamdyn got you taken care of.”

  He smirked. “Oh, she sure did.”

  He didn’t elaborate, in an attempt to bait me into asking. Instead, I smiled primly and focused on the computer screen, clicking on various appointments at random.

  Oh, she sure did.

  What did that even mean?

  I kept my chin high when Kamdyn walked up to get her next client, even as I searched her face for clues. She looked the same; lipstick still in place, no beard burn or strange white stuff dangling from her ear… the evidence reaffirmed that nothing happened.

  Kamdyn sent her client down to her booth before making her way over to us. I relaxed my shoulders when neither of them fell into a passionate embrace, cursing my overactive imagination.

  She handed him a piece of paper that looked suspiciously like a page from her planner. “Hey, you left this behind,” she teased. My heart did a swan dive out of my chest onto the stained concrete floor beneath my chair.

  Jake didn’t return her smile. In fact, he suddenly looked uncomfortable. He took the paper from her hand and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. “Thanks.”

  “Call me later, okay?”

  He nodded but kept his eyes on me.

  A flush crept across my cheeks and I forced out a hollow laugh. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

  I grabbed my bottled water and took a swig, feeling off-kilter.

  “Are you jealous?” He leaned in with a slow smile.

  I released my clenched jaw with a direct, “No, I expected it from you.”

  He pursed his lips. “You’re not mad?”

  I took another drink in an effort to stall before admitting, “I just met you two days ago. Not only that, but you pulled a gun on me. So, no, I’m not mad. I’m disappointed because Kamdyn is someone I work with and she’s going through a rough patch—”

  Jake held both hands in front of him. “Whoa. Nothing’s happened, okay?”

  “It’s just… what happens when you go back? She’s not some random girl you met in a bar. She’s going to have a lot of questions that I can’t answer without ending up in the mental ward,” I softly explained, tracing the patterns in the granite with my finger.

  I didn’t ask what was going to happen to me when he left because I was afraid I wouldn’t like the answer.

  Eleven

  Jessa Hopkins was not having a good day. Her flatiron had kicked the bucket that morning, leaving her with hair that was only half straight. The other half was a Medusa-level mass of unruly waves.

  It was a good metaphor for her life, really. Just when one aspect seemed under control, another exploded in a fiery fashion.

  She’d arrived at her day job ten minutes late and officially out of good excuses. Instead of another reprieve, she’d been given a small cardboard box to hold two year’s worth of trinkets and mementos before being sent down in an elevator with security.

  And, as if her day couldn’t get any worse, it appeared she’d been stood up. Again. She tapped a manicured nail against her wineglass, wondering how many of her vices she was going to have to give up now that she was unemployed.

  Booze or beauty?

  Had she not been sitting al
one at a table meant for two, she might’ve found humor in the fact that, because of her side job, she only ever attracted married men.

  That had been the point after all.

  Still, she never imagined that her nights would be spent in seedy bars or up on fire escapes, trying to capture infidelity on film.

  Wasn’t PI work supposed to be more exciting?

  No one ever came to her with a missing kid or spouse; hell, she would’ve even settled for a missing dog.

  No.

  Everybody wanted to catch their partner cheating. Sometimes, they wanted to use her as bait, while other times, it was strictly behind the lens work.

  Her older brother, Jake, had warned her it would be like this. He’d even insisted she get a nice desk job somewhere; said she was too naïve to be running her own agency.

  At the time, she’d chalked it up to a jealous cop, afraid his baby sis was going to steal his business.

  “More wine while you wait?” the waiter asked, with the slightest hint of irritation. Jessa shook her head.

  She didn’t know why they bothered with pretenses; they both knew that her date wasn’t coming. And without a date, his chances of a great tip dwindled with each passing minute.

  So, he’d hovered; refilling her water glass and doing his damnedest to get her drunk. It wasn’t going to work though; she had a case waiting. Some entrepreneurial type who spent time overseas had become convinced that his fiancée was sleeping around on him.

  She was.

  They always were.

  From what she’d seen online, the fiancée had found one thing desirable—his wallet.

  It was better this way. She’d make a quick buck, and he’d get out without alimony and litigation. A broken heart would heal. A broken bank account was another story altogether though.

  She asked for the check and observed the other couples. Over the years, it had become something of a game. She could pick out the mistresses from the wives as if they had signs flashing above their heads.

  As she slipped on her jacket and walked out, she gave a brief glance back before shaking her head. Sooner or later, she’d see every one of them in her apartment office.

  She needed business cards. Something she could casually drop at tables when she was out being stood up for the third time in a week.

  When Jessa reached her car, she studied her reflection, trying to see the girl she once was underneath layers of makeup.

  She pulled up outside the high-rise, double checking the address in her GPS before looking up. All the way to the thirtieth floor up. Her client had been specific about which direction the balcony faced and how to best access it. He’d also been very adamant that she arrive before ten.

  Hell, he’d given her so much that she wondered why he hadn’t just handled it himself. She wasn’t in a position to turn down the cash though.

  Several swigs from the flask of whiskey in her jacket pocket and a few hundred curse words later, Jessa began scaling the rickety fire escape of the neighboring building, all while keeping the elusive thirtieth floor in her sights. Based on the architecture, she guessed the building to be a century-old, at least.

  Fire escapes were the same on any building in the city. It was like climbing an old ladder that had been screwed into the brick facade. Each step could be her last.

  She kept her footsteps light as she crept past a well-lit window. Inside, a couple of kids were spaced out in front of the television, both oblivious to her presence just a few feet away.

  Jessa paused around the twentieth floor to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. She didn’t know it yet, but what she was experiencing now was the calm before the storm.

  She pulled the camera from her shoulder bag, aiming it at the opposite building and adjusting the focus as needed. Best-case scenario, the fiancée decided to screw the guy on the balcony. Worst case, they had the blinds closed, forcing her back down the fire escape and to her back-up plan.

  She’d delivered food and flowers before to gain access to a building, but the photos were always better when the target was unaware. Showing up at the door left room for excuses and excuses meant she didn’t get paid.

  A flash of black passed in front of her lens and she trailed it through the viewfinder. It looked like a piece of fencing. She corrected the focus as something larger swooped into view. Either she was looking at a very large bird or—oh, Jesus. It was a person.

  A strangled sob escaped her throat, and she mashed the shutter release repeatedly, capturing every second of the person’s descent. It was a man; of that much she was certain.

  He hit the ground, and she winced before falling back against the rough bricks with a soft cry. She’d just witnessed a man die. Not only that, but she’d captured it on her camera.

  What had possessed her to do that?

  She’d never be able to pinpoint what made her look up; maybe just a crazy hunch, but there was someone standing on a balcony with a piece of missing railing.

  She fumbled in her bag for the telescopic lens while keeping the individual in her sights. A quick count up from the bottom confirmed that she was looking at the balcony on the thirtieth floor.

  Jessa quickly attached the lens and discovered that there were two people on the balcony. Two women. And neither seemed particularly disturbed by the fact that someone had just fallen to his death.

  She moved up the next flight of stairs, snapping photos until they disappeared back inside.

  Call the cops.

  She dialed the number with shaking hands and gave them the details. Later, she’d realize that she never mentioned the photographs to the emergency operator or specifically what she’d witnessed.

  It wasn’t as if she could know, but that decision saved her life.

  “What do you think?” I asked hesitantly.

  It wasn’t much of a story yet, but I’d spent the last week taking notes from Jake on everything there was to know about Jessa Hopkins. And I found that, unlike Laura, Jessa had a lot to say.

  Aaris’s eyes rapidly moved left to right as she scanned the screen. “Hayden, this is good. This is damn good. So, who did it?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  She pointed at the computer. “The push heard round the city. Who shoved him off? And who were the two women?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, Aaris. I just got into the story. I’m still trying to figure things out myself.”

  She took a drink of her grapefruit and vodka—yet another bottle she’d managed to smuggle home from the bar. This time in her bra. I didn’t get into the logistics. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  “Hayden, listen to me,” she hiccuped. “I need to know who killed Detective Douche and I also need to know who the fuck that is.” She pointed at a large figure on the other side of the balcony door.

  I let out a cry of surprise before scrambling away from my desk and into the kitchen for the rolling pin.

  “Jake!” Aaris called out. “Jake come in here... someone’s at the door, Jake!”

  “Aaris,” I hissed as I crouched down near the cabinets. “Jake isn’t here!”

  That was right. The detective who’d sworn to keep me safe had abandoned me in favor of dinner with Kamdyn. Which was fine because I was completely capable of taking care of myself.

  Like now.

  Aaris had begun spinning circles in my desk chair, unbothered by the fact that there was someone actively trying to get into the apartment.

  “I’ve called the police,” I announced to the door.

  “Ooh,” Aaris exclaimed. “Tell them to send the hot ones!”

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “Hayden,” a male voice said. “It’s me, Max.”

  “Hayden! It’s Max!” Aaris collapsed in a fit of giggles against the desk.

  “Yep, heard that. Thank you very much, Aaris.” I dropped the rolling pin onto the counter with a thud.

  Jake had introduced me to Max a few days ago. Apparently, he’d served
in the Army and had been traveling around the world ever since. Jake trusted him with his life. It was enough for me. The rest was just details.

  I lifted the security bar and slid the door open.

  “He didn’t tell you I was here, did he?” he asked with an easy smile.

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes dramatically. “Not one word.”

  Why would he have told me that Max was on bodyguard duty when he was preoccupied with thoughts of getting his dick wet?

  “You good?” Max asked with a furrowed brow. “You just growled.”

  I paste a smile onto my face. “Growl? Me? That’s ridiculous. I was clearing my throat.”

  “Are you real?” Aaris had abandoned her post at my desk and was walking in a slow, unsteady circle around Max.

  “Aaris, you can’t ask people if they’re real.” I turned to Max. “You are real though, aren’t you?”

  He glanced around the apartment, looking for answers. When his eyes landed on the vodka bottle, his eyebrows moved up. “Ah, how much have you ladies had?”

  Aaris chose that moment to trip over her own foot. She fell into Max, her hands pawing at his chest in an attempt to break her fall. His hands clutched her waist, pulling her body up and into his. I was mesmerized. It was perfectly synchronized, like one of those elaborate dips you’d see on a televised dance competition.

  Max was built like Jake and had the hardened look of someone who had killed before, but there seemed to be a softness underneath the rough exterior. Unlike Jake, he also seemed capable of letting his guard down, even if it was brief.

  I guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, with light brown hair that was slightly thicker than Jake’s and a full beard that would make a lumberjack jealous.

  The day I met him, he’d immediately taken to Bootsy and had even produced a treat from his pocket for her.

  What kind of man carried treats in his pocket?

  A great one, in my opinion. In fact, Max was just the type of guy I needed in my life. He was kind, thoughtful, and sexy as hell. He also hadn’t handcuffed me to anything, which was a definite plus.

  Unless of course…

  “So, how long have you been sitting out in the cold?” I asked, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself.