I shook my head. “I don’t have that answer. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She sighed, coming up to hug me. “I know you’re the nice one. The “right” thing is in your nature. Definitely thought I’d converted you when you choked her though.”
I laughed, but it turned into a sigh. “Yeah, all this new information is bringing out the worst in all of us. Life was simpler before we knew the truth.”
“We’ll be okay though,” Nadiah assured, the brightness of her smile almost making those words believable.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We will.”
Because I’d do my damnedest.
Sure, maybe life had been simpler with the wool over our eyes, but I’d take clarity over an illusion any day. I was only one woman, so I had no plan – or desire – to lead a revolution, or anything like that. But now that my eyes were open?
Something would change.
Eleven
Ruby was coming in today.
I was glad I didn’t have any chemical services scheduled, because my hands had been shaking all morning. Dropped tools, clumsy parting, multiple scissor corrections – it had to be obvious to everyone that something was going on with me.
Still, I was taking the coward’s way out by not telling Harriet about Ruby. When pressed, I explained away my clumsiness with worry about my grandmother – not a lie, but not quite the truth either.
I was concerned about Gran.
Today I was just more concerned about losing my job.
Ruby’s appointment for today was a standing one, already on Harriet’s book. As the time for that appointment ticked closer, my anxiety got worse and worse, hitting a peak when Lori approached Harriet, pulling her aside to speak about something in a whispered tone before they both turned.
If looks could kill.
After a moment, Lori stalked away, and Harriet turned back to her station. It only took me a second to realize she’d packed her things back up, but before I could say something, the tablet at my station chimed.
I had a new appointment.
All my others had been shifted.
“Harriet!” I called after her, following her into the supply station. “Listen, I—”
“You could’ve just told me,” she snapped, rounding on me. “What would’ve been so hard about that? We’ve talked how many times since you took that appointment for me? Wait… that’s why you haven’t been accepting my coffee, isn’t it? Because you feel guilty?”
My shoulders dropped as I nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything because yeah, I feel guilty. And I didn’t know if Ruby would actually want to come to me again, just because she said she would. I know how stressed you’ve been with Nessa being sick, and I didn’t want to add to that.”
“But you can take money out of my pocket without a second thought?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not like that. At all. When she asked at first, I declined, because I’d never do that to you. But then I didn’t have a choice.”
Harriet rolled her eyes. “You don’t think I know that? Nobody says no to Ruby Hartford.”
“So then why are you pissed at me, if you know?!”
“Because I have a sick kid, and I need that money! I know – you have a sick grandmother, and you need the money too – we all have problems. I get it. But I’m still pissed. And I’m gonna be pissed, for a few days. You’re the homie, Aly, but get the hell out of my face, okay?” she said, dumping the small tub of supplies for Ruby’s hair into my arms before she stalked off.
It was a kind gesture – she could’ve turned it all in, forcing me to gather it all myself, which was normal protocol.
So maybe she did just need time.
That only barely made me feel better.
Once again, here was a situation where someone lost, in a game of survival. Harriet had a whole family to worry about, including a sick little girl who hadn’t had the chance for a full life yet. She needed that money. Had probably come to depend on it since she’d been Ruby’s regular stylist for years.
But there was so much I might do for Gran with a boost like this. Better therapy, better medicine, make her more comfortable, put her to rest with some dignity when the time came.
And it wasn’t like it had been left up to me.
If I refused Ruby as a client, there was no doubt in my mind Lori would fire me – she’d already been gunning for me anyway. I thought about messing up, so Ruby wouldn’t want to use me, but the thought of purposely ruining hair – especially hair as glorious as hers – made me feel sick to my stomach. Not to mention, that would be a fireable offense too.
I hated being in this position.
However.
My feelings weren’t stopping anything, and Ruby would be here soon. So instead of letting myself wallow, I moved on, preparing everything I needed for her steam conditioning treatment and a simple style.
In what seemed like no time, she was walking through those doors, just as beautiful and imposing as I remembered. She smiled at me in the mirror, her guards flanking the area just like last time.
“Ms. Little, so we meet again.”
“You requested me,” I reminded her, as I started on her hair – freeing it from the sleek ponytail she’d walked in with to coat her strands in a pre-conditioning treatment. “I’m sure you’re used to having people at your fingertips, waiting for their commands.”
She smirked.
“Does that bother you, Alyson?”
My stands stopped moving as I thought about it, then shook my head. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Really. Why is that?”
I shrugged, running the detangling brush through her strands as the moisture reverted them back to their coily state. “I like the idea of women with power. Black women, with power,” I admitted. “It feels like a win, even if…”
Her smile deepened. “Even if the woman herself isn’t quite nice?”
“I was going to say even if she isn’t perfect. No one is.”
“Well that’s true,” she agreed. “But I’m not very nice, either.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
So I didn’t.
I moved her to the sink, going on with the treatment for her hair while she conducted business on the phone or talked with her guards. Mentally, it was easy for me to check out – focusing solely on my task, getting it exactly right.
My hands weren’t shaking anymore.
Now, they moved with certainty – with confidence. Drama or not, I was damn good at what I did. An assertion Ruby seemed to agree with as she surveyed her glossy, ultra-moisturized strands in the mirror.
“This is the best my hair has looked in years, Aly – I hope you don’t feel you did anything wrong by being a superior stylist.”
I swallowed hard, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I’m glad you’re satisfied.”
“Of course you are. Now – the style?”
“Oh! Yes, have you decided what you’d like? The appointment doesn’t specify.”
She nodded. “Yes. A simple crown braid. I have an event to attend.”
Oh.
I could do that in my sleep.
I grabbed my comb, my brush, edge control gel, made all the preparations, and then I began the braid.
And then my eyes welled up with tears.
You’d better not, I scolded myself, trying to hold back the inconvenient emotions that had sprung up out of nowhere. It was a terrible time – the worst possible time – to be reminded of my Gran, sitting in a chair at the facility while I stood behind her and did this same thing to her hair.
The same braid she’d taught me to do, but could no longer do herself.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ruby asked.
When I met her gaze in the mirror, her eyes were narrowed, digging into me like lasers, but I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“That’s a lie. I don’t like lies. So tell the truth.”
I let out a huff that only made it harder to hold mysel
f together. “It’s personal. It has nothing to do with you.”
Her eyebrow went up. “Okay, so we arrive at the truth, but no details. Fine. I do not tolerate unexplained tears – it makes me think you’re weak, which fortunately for you, wasn’t the opinion I held. Inexperienced, sure. Ignorant of the world around you, unsurprising given where you’re from. But weak… oh Aly, I expected better.”
“I’m not weak,” I hissed, with enough venom that her guards stepped forward, but Ruby smiled.
“Then what are you?”
“Heartbroken,” I admitted, with way too much cracking in my voice. “This style. It’s my Gran’s favorite, and she’s dying. Since you want to know so fucking bad.”
That was too far.
I knew it.
She knew it.
The guards knew it.
But she didn’t snap.
She looked me right in the eyes, through the mirror. “Grandmothers are very important. Especially good ones. How is your mother?”
“Dead.”
For a second, something like actual emotion flickered in her eyes, but she shuttered it. “Okay. They’re especially important when we don’t have our mothers anymore. What’s wrong with her?”
“Her kidneys.”
“Is she being treated?”
I nodded. “Yes. The best I can afford.”
“Good. Good. You’re a good kid, Aly. I know this because you will give me the name of the facility where she’s being treated.”
This time, my eyebrow went up. “Why?”
“Why?” she smirked. “Because I like racking up favors from people I think have potential. Finish my hair. I have places to be.”
I picked up my comb and finished.
But now, my brain was swimming with questions and confusion, wondering what the hell Ruby was plotting. I was on auto-pilot, hands moving on muscle memory, but it must’ve been good enough still, because Ruby put another stack of too much in my hand as a tip before she breezed out.
For a few minutes, I could only stand there – my mind was still reeling. Once that moment passed, I counted out the money Ruby had given me, splitting it in half before I stepped out of the private station where I’d been working.
I went straight to Harriet.
“You do not have to do this,” she hissed at me, as soon as she realized I’d slipped a handful of bills into her pocket – my escape was too slow. “Ruby has a right to switch stylists, and you have a right to accept any client that comes to you. You earned this, Aly. You don’t have to give it away.”
I thought about the conversation I’d had with Nadiah not even two days ago – adapting to the ugly to survive, versus doing the right thing. I shook my head.
“I know I don’t have to, but I should’ve given you a heads up. I should’ve given you time to adjust, and I didn’t, and it wasn’t okay. This is me trying to correct that. Some, at least.”
Harriet sighed, then peeked into her pocket. “I get that, and I appreciate it. But you have responsibilities too, and giving away your whole tip… I can’t let you do that.”
“It’s not all,” I assured her. “I split it.”
“What, 80-20?” she looked in her pocket again. “You must’ve put in work, because this ‘split’ is more than my usual tip. I have to give you some of this back.”
“No, you don’t. Just consider it a thank you.”
After a moment, she nodded. “Okay.”
It was hard to sleep sometimes.
Tonight was one of those nights where I couldn’t seem to shake off the plaguing thoughts of the last few days. Between my grandmother, Arleigh, Ruby, Harriet… somehow, everything felt more unsettled than usual. It wasn’t as if I’d ever felt particularly safe before, but this was different.
It was one thing to be acclimated. Growing up in the Mids, my parents had made sure I knew the rules – not just the laws, but the stuff that wasn’t written anywhere, wisdom to follow to stay as far out of reach of danger as I could. There had been a certain comfort in that – not staying out too late, not going to certain parts of town, not hanging with certain people, no drugs, no alcohol.
I knew all the right things. And I followed those things, and I passed it down to Nadiah as best I could.
But with what I knew now, everything was in limbo.
Did we really have to ration electricity? Were those communication panels listening, recording everything in our houses? Why was there a barrier between the Apex and the Mids, really? Why had they sterilized us, really? Did the other divisions do this?
I was pulled from my thoughts by a series of loud thumps that damn near made me crawl out of my skin. I sat straight up, staring around in the dark, trying to discern the source.
Maybe it was just Nadiah…
Instead of going with that thought, I crawled out of bed to investigate.
“Nadiah?” I asked, in a loud whisper, as I pushed her door open. “Was that you?”
No.
It wasn’t.
Because Nadiah was sprawled across her bed, snoring, with those damn earbuds blasting in her ears.
Shaking my head, I switched her music off to preserve the battery just a little longer before I snuck back out of her room, trying not to wake her. I was pulling her door closed behind me when I heard the same sound again, but now I could tell it was coming from my kitchen.
Coming from the back door.
Shit.
It was way too loud to be someone breaking in, and that was dangerous anyway. At this time of night, the APF shot first and asked questions later, so it would have to be a stupid criminal to risk that to break into this house.
So what the hell is going on?
The quiet lulled me into the kitchen, to the door. There was a window there, covered with blinds my mother had been obsessive about preserving – no peeking out, wearing down the cords. If we wanted to look out, we were supposed to open them, but I wasn’t about to do that now, not when I didn’t know what was on the other side.
Thump, thump, thump.
Before I could help myself, I’d let out a yelp as I scurried away from the door where someone was knocking. As if it weren’t past midnight.
“Aly, open this door before I get shot please? I can hear you on the other side.”
My eyes went wide.
Against my better judgment, I moved back to the door, yanking the cord to open the blinds. It was dark, and a little hard to tell, but… yeah.
It was him.
Maddox was outside.
“Aly,” he called again. “Open the door.”
Right.
My hands were shaking as I undid the locks and pulled the door open, letting him slip past me into the kitchen. I locked it again before I turned to face him, meeting his eyes since his gaze was already locked on me.
Damn he looks good.
“Maddox?”
We both looked toward the entrance to the kitchen where Nadiah was standing, half-awake and confused.
“Nadiah,” he greeted, tipping his head. “What’s up? I’ve got something for you, actually.”
He pulled a leather backpack from his broad shoulders, unzipping a specific compartment. Nadiah approached, curious, as he pulled out a little bundle and put it in her hands.
Even in the semi-darkness of the kitchen, I could tell her eyes lit up.
“Mos wanted me to give you that,” he explained. “He said you’d know how to use it.”
“He got it fixed,” Nadiah gushed. “That’s so cool.”
“Uh… what is it?” I asked, speaking up.
“A solar charger, for the battery on the music player. So I can use it forever.”
My eyebrows went up. “Wow.”
“I know, right?! He’s so romantic,” she sighed, then looked back to Maddox. “Thank you for bringing this.”
He gave her a nod. “You’re welcome. Have fun.”
She rushed off to her room, leaving me alone in the room with Maddox again. I wasn’t sure
if I was good with that or not. The short time since I last saw him had done nothing to dull my memories of that night in the club, and those same feelings came roaring back now. Anxiety and arousal tangled into a knot in my stomach.
“So you came all the way here to bring her that charger? You must’ve owed Mosley a big favor.”
Maddox grinned, shook his head. “Nah, I needed to come out here anyway, handle some business.”
Of course.
Business.
“Plus it gave me an excuse to check on you.”
My lips parted. “… Check on me? Why?”
“Why not?” he shrugged. “You had a lot tossed your way, all at once. Had to be overwhelming, right?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“So…” he leaned onto the counter, framed in the sliver of moonlight streaming in from the window. “How have you been?”
The “polite” answers played in my head – the ones I gave my regulars at the salon. The ones you gave the people who didn’t really care to hear the answer, who were only asking because it expected.
“I’ve been fine.”
He stared at me – through me – and then shook his head. “No you haven’t.”
I sucked my teeth. “You know, you’re the second person to call me a liar today.”
“So you should just tell the truth.”
“Neither one of you knows me, to call me a liar.”
“Maybe you’re more transparent than you think,” Maddox offered with a shrug. “And maybe we’d like to know you, and that’s why we’re asking questions.”
“Why?”
His eyes widened. “Why what?”
“Why would you want to know me?” I clarified. “I’m not very interesting.”
“I wouldn’t agree with that.”
I huffed. “The twins probably would. How would they feel if they knew you were here, questioning me, instead of at the club with them, or whatever. Do they know what you did with me at the club?”
“Not exactly, no. I wasn’t aware it was supposed to be public knowledge.”
“Well, I don’t know how it works in the Burrows, but usually when you’re sleeping with someone, they’d care to know if you were doing things with other people.”
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