Chapter 1

 

“How are Melody and the kids?” Charlotte turned the clippers on and began to carefully shave the back of Vince’s neck.

“They’re good, real good.” Vince smiled at her in the mirror as she finished shaving his neck and brushed away the small bits of hair that still clung to his sunburned neck.

“Jade’s leaving for college next week.”

Charlotte shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe she’s starting college this year.”

“You and me both.” Vince grimaced a little. “And why she feels the need to move halfway across the country is beyond me.”

“Mel is going to miss her.” Charlotte replied.

Vince sighed heavily. “Yeah, she really will.”

“At least you still have Daniel at home.”

“True.” Vince acknowledged. “Although this is his last year of high school, and I imagine he’ll choose a college as far away from here as he can get too.”

“This is a small city. Kids are always eager to leave.”

“Yeah, but I had hoped that one of them might follow their old man’s career path.”

Charlotte smiled gently at him. “Jade is going into criminology is she not?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but it ain’t the same as being a cop. We both know she’ll become a lawyer like her mother. And Daniel is planning on majoring in theatre. Theatre! Tell me, what kind of job will the kid get from that?”

Before Charlotte could reply, Vince sighed. “Mel says kids need to follow their own path and we need to encourage Daniel to follow his dreams. I don’t disagree, but we’ll see how she feels when Danny’s thirty-eight and living in our basement.”

Charlotte laughed and Vince grinned at her in the mirror. “It’s good to hear you laugh, Charlotte. Mel and I have been worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Vince.”

He grunted and shifted in the chair before glancing around the salon. The other two hair stylists were chatting in the back of the salon and Darlene, the receptionist, was on the phone booking an appointment.

“I doubt you’re fine.” He said gently. “It’s only been three months.”

“True.” Charlotte replied as she swept the bits of iron-grey hair from his cape-covered shoulders. “But he was sick for nearly two years before that. It gives a person time to prepare.”

“I know.” He drew his hand free from the cape and placed it on top of hers. “It doesn’t mean you’re not lonely though.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Charlotte admitted. “But there’s relief in knowing he isn’t suffering anymore.”

She squeezed Vince’s hand briefly before unbuttoning the cape and carefully shaking it out. “Are you heading home now?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m working late tonight. We’ve been having some trouble with a motorcycle gang that showed up a couple of months ago. We suspect they’ve been trafficking and dealing in drugs. Like we don’t have enough trouble with that already.”

He eased his body out of the chair and straightened his uniform before placing his police cap back on his head. Charlotte followed him to the reception, leaning against the counter as Vince paid Darlene. He left her a generous tip as usual and she smiled gratefully at him.

“Why don’t you come by this weekend? I know Mel would love to see you again.” Vince asked as he slid his wallet into his back pocket.

“That sounds nice. Tell Mel to text me.” Charlotte answered.

Vince hesitated and then gave her a brief but firm hug. “And you know if you need anything, anything at all, you can just call us, right?”

“I know, Vince. Thank you.”

He nodded and left the salon as Charlotte returned to her station to sweep up the bits of hair on the floor around her chair. Her back hurt and she had the beginning of a headache, but she thought she had done an admirable job of convincing Vince that she was fine.

She sighed. It wasn’t that she wasn’t fine, she decided. She wasn’t anything. She felt no overwhelming sadness or loneliness, nor did she feel happiness or joy. The morning after Rick had died she had woken to discover a curious sort of numbness had swallowed her every emotion as neatly as the whale had swallowed Jonah. She had hidden it well from her friends and family. Only her therapist knew about her sudden inability to feel anything at all. She didn’t believe she was suicidal, but she also couldn’t deny that the thought of her own death brought only a weary kind of relief.

She swallowed hard, trying to force herself into feeling some kind of terror or even discomfort at the idea of her very existence fading out like a dying candle but there was only the numbness. As she swept at the tiled floor, she sighed again. There was no point in trying to force herself to feel something she didn’t. She had to work through the grief just like her therapist kept telling her. This lack of emotion, this numbness, was just a cleverly masqueraded stage of grief. It would pass eventually.

Her head swivelled towards the front door of the salon as the loud pop of firecrackers was heard outside. She wandered towards reception as Darlene stood up from behind her desk.

“Did you hear that?”

Charlotte nodded. “Weird to have firecrackers this time of the year.”

“I don’t think it was firecrackers.” Darlene hesitated. “It sounded like gunfire to me. Maybe you shouldn’t go out there, Charlotte.”

Charlotte who was pushing open the front door, glanced over her shoulder at the young woman. “I’m just going to check – “

She gasped as Vince, his face pale and his hand pressed against his side, staggered through the open door.

“Charlotte, lock the door.” He wheezed. He suddenly toppled over, knocking her off her feet. She gasped with pain as she fell to the floor, her elbow slamming painfully into the hard tile. With a grunt of effort, she pushed Vince off of her and on to his back as Rita and Helen hurried over from the back of the salon.

“Vince?” She stared in disbelief at the bright bloom of blood seeping through the front of Vince’s shirt.

“Charlotte,” he groaned, “the door – quick.”

Before she could gain her feet, the bell over the door rang out and three men entered the salon. All three were dressed similarly in dirty jeans, white t-shirts and leather vests. The first man had a gun in his hand and Vince’s gun shoved into the front of his pants, and he pointed the gun in his hand at Darlene.

“Lock the door - now.”

She stared frozen at him and he slapped her across the head. “Now, bitch!”

She stumbled to the door and locked it as the second man pulled the shade down over the large picture window next to the door. He shoved Darlene out of the way and turned the open sign to close before pulling the shade on the door as well.

The third man, he was tall and broad with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail and a thick beard covering his face, grabbed a stack of towels from Rita’s station and knelt beside Vince. He pressed two of the towels to the gunshot on Vince’s side and grabbed Charlotte’s hand.

“Apply pressure.” He growled to her, pressing her hand down hard on the towels. She did as he asked as he leaned over Vince and felt for his pulse in his neck.

“Hang on, old man.” He breathed so quietly that only Charlotte and Vince heard him. Charlotte looked at Vince. He was staring at the man above him, and Charlotte could have sworn that a flicker of recognition crossed Vince’s face.

“What the fuck are you doing, Ren? Leave him!” The first man snapped.

Ren stared at Charlotte for a moment, his dark grey eyes assessing her coolly. “Don’t let up on the pressure. Do you hear me?”

She nodded as he stood and moved back to the other two men.

“What the hell, Ren? Who gives a shit about that old fart?”

Ren glared at the smaller man. “Do you want to add murder to your list of crimes, Steve? Killing a cop will get you the chair, you moron.”

“Fuck you, Ren!” Steve spat. Like Ren, his dirty blond hair was long and tied back in a ponytail. His stocky body was nearly vibrating with excitement and his faded blue eyes were darting back and forth nervously. Charlotte suspected that he was high on something as he turned and shoved Darlene towards Rita and Helen. The three women huddled together as the second man paced back and forth in front of the door.

“Jesus Christ.” He moaned. He had a blue bandana on his head and he swiped it off, revealing his bald and gleaming skull, and wiped the sweat from his face with it.

“We’re dead, man. We’re so fucking dead.”

“We’re fine, Jasper.” Steve grunted.

“Are you kidding me?” Jasper was the smallest of the three. Short and thin, his jeans hanging from his non-existent ass and his leather vest wrapped loosely around his chest, he looked like he was going to vomit. “You shot a goddamn cop! Ren’s right – we’re going to fry for this.”

Steve slammed his fist down on the reception desk. “It’s not like I had much choice. Stupid fucking pig practically fell on to our deal.”

Ren moved the shade and peered out. “We have to go. Staying here is dangerous.”

“Where the hell are we gonna go?” Steve nearly shouted at him.

“We grab our bikes and ride.” Ren hissed at him. “For Christ’s sake, three different people watched us chase that bleeding cop into here. This place is going to be crawling with cops at any moment.”

As if his words summoned them, the faint sound of sirens could be heard.

“Shit!” Ren dropped the shade and stared around the salon. His gaze fell on Jasper. “Go check the back door, make sure it’s locked.”

Jasper nodded and disappeared into the back of the salon as Charlotte took Vince’s hand and squeezed tightly.

Ren knelt beside her once more and pulled the belt free from Vince’s pants. He slid it under Vince, the man groaning with pain, and pushed Charlotte’s hand out of the way before adding more towels to the blood-soaked ones. He buckled the belt so that it held the towels firmly against his bleeding side.

Charlotte leaned over him. “Vince? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand.”

Vince squeezed her hand with surprising strength and Charlotte felt a thin thread of relief. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot.” He mumbled.

She smiled and ran her hand over his forehead, leaving a bloody smear, as Ren stood and moved away. “You’re going to be just fine. I’ll get us both out of this, okay?”

“Just stay quiet and do exactly what they tell you, Charlotte. They’ll kill you if you don’t.” He whispered.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m not afraid. And I don’t want you to be afraid either.”

She gasped with pain when a hand was twisted into her long, blonde hair and she was yanked to her feet. Steve pulled her head back and she wrinkled her nose in disgust as his stale, tobacco-infused breath washed over her.

“What the fuck are you saying to that pig?”

“I was just telling him he would be fine.” She gritted out as he pulled her hair tighter.

“You’re a pretty little thing ain’t ya?” Steve suddenly crooned. He rubbed his finger across her cheek.

For the first time in three months an emotion broke through the numbness that had enveloped her like a thick blanket. She was afraid for Vince. She didn’t want Mel to lose him like she had lost Rick. The thought of her own imminent death brought on that same feeling of relief from before, and she had a moment to understand just how broken she really was before Ren was standing in front of them.

“Let her go.”

“Since when did you care about some skinny little bitch?” Steve said with an edge to his voice.

“Let her go.” Ren repeated himself as the sirens grew louder.

“You gonna make me?” Steve sneered.

“If I have to.” Ren replied quietly.

Charlotte watched as Ren’s eyes grew darker. After a long tense minute, Steve snorted and thrust her towards Ren so roughly she would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her.

He held her against his large body, one hard arm wrapped around her waist and his big hand resting on her hip, as the sirens stopped abruptly.

“They’re here.” He pulled Charlotte towards the window and carefully peered behind the shade. He swore violently and stared at Steve as Jasper burst back into the salon.

“The back door is locked. But there are cops in the alley.”

“There are three cars out front. We’ve lost our chance.” Ren glared at Steve.

“We’ve got a dying cop and four other hostages. They’ll do whatever we ask them to do.” Steve answered.

“Jesus, Steve, are you even listening to yourself?” Ren snarled. “We are in serious trouble here. You need to – “

Steve suddenly pointed his gun at him and Charlotte felt Ren stiffen before he eased her small body behind his. “Don’t be an asshole, Steve.”

“No, don’t you be an asshole, Ren.” Steve wiped his nose and glared at him. “Who the fuck is in charge here? Huh? Is it you? Because I certainly don’t remember giving up my rightful place as the leader.”

Ren, one hand still holding Charlotte firmly, said quietly, “You’re in charge, Steve. I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“Keep your fucking mouth shut then!” Steve retorted.

“Steve, man, we gotta do something.” Jasper whined nervously.

“Shut up!” Steve shouted. The shrill ring of the telephone made him jump and he turned towards it.

“That’ll be the police.” Ren said. “You need to answer it, Steve.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced around the salon. “Everyone just stay the fuck quiet.” He reached for the phone.