Page 56 of Savage Keepsakes

I ponder it for a minute. “Sorta. I mean, it’s quiet out here, smaller and hidden.”

“You’ve spent your entire life hidden. Why would you wanna do that now?”

I say nothing. There’s beauty in staying buried. When no one sees you, it makes life easier to blend in the shadows.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

“Nothing. Ready to dye your hair?” I’m eager to give him some attention.

He deserves so much after making my life so fucking good. He’s helping me see myself in the light he does. It’s healing things within that I didn’t even fucking know were cracked.

He tilts his head when he looks at me. It’s so sexy.

We reach the car and get in the heat from the sun, making it feel like a fucking microwave.

“You can pick the colour. You look at my ugly mug the most.”

“Kettle?”

“Touché.”

He rolls down all the windows, the wind whips my hair around as we drive down the road. Billy taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the metal that blares through the car.

It’s one of my favourite sights. We don’t travel for long before we reach a small building. He continues to the rear and parks the Cruze.

“I’ll have to drop the packages into the mailbox on our way back to your house,” he says before getting out of the car.

I follow close behind. He doesn’t go into the shop, but we round the building to a narrow staircase.

“They aren’t connected?”

“Nah, never felt the need to be that close to dead animals. I mean, I give them nicknames sometimes, but it isn’t something I want in my apartment.”

As we reach the top of the wiggly staircase, he unlocks the door, and we enter a little space. An old couch, worn and faded from years of use, rests against one wall.

On the other side, a small kitchen with a griddle is tucked away. The air in the room feels heavy with the sharp scent of disinfectant and lingering dust.

“Nothing fancy,” he mumbles.

“Why’d you furnish my place and not update yours?”

He pulls off his shirt, his tattooed stomach showing. “Because you’re more important, I’ll get a chair.”

He brings one out as he disappears behind a small door and returns with hair dye, gloves, and a comb. Billy takes his hat off and places it on the counter before turning back to me.

“I’m trusting you here.” He grins.

I roll my eyes as I cross the room to open the windows near the couch.

As I run my fingers through his tresses, and he moans, fiddling with his phone before the music fills the small space. I comb his hair to the side as I apply the dye and we work silently listening to tunes.

“I’ve never had someone do this for me. It’s oddly comforting.”

“I imagine playing with my hair makes me feel better,” I whisper.

“I’d do anything to make you feel better, Lou.”

“Why?”

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