Page 92 of Cut Me Down

“He’s good, but holy shit. He came home last night, and he was beat up, girl. His whole back and chest were bruised…” I emphasize by moving my hands around my body. Almost in a robotic like fashion.

“Wait a minute, what’d you just say?” She squints her eyes at me.

“That he was beat up?” I ask confused.

“No, before that.”

“What? That he came home last night?” Realization slaps me in the face. Oh… Did I really just say that?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said. Is he living here?” She asks, obviously not approving.

“I mean, I-I don’t know. He’s been staying here for over three weeks now. He was in the apartment across the alleyway, remember? What’s wrong with him being here?” I ask innocently, but then I see the edge of her mouth curl ever so slightly.

“I guess nothing. I’ve just never heard you say that before. It threw me for a loop. It’s nice.”

“To be fair, I haven’t heard myself say that before. I don’t know why I said that.” Why did I say that? He doesn’t live here. Does he? I mean where else does he live? He told me about the apartment, but he hasn’t had it that long. Does he just live in the comic shop? I should probably ask him that. It sounded so natural until Ser pointed it out and reminded me that there’s a lot about him I still don’t know. I wouldn’t mind if he lived here. I guess, he’s here every night and I gave him a key for fucks sake, but I just hadn’t really cared that he lived somewhere else until now.

“Okay, I'm sorry don’t spiral.” She throws her hands up like she’s surrendering.

“I'm not spiraling.”Yes, I am.

“Bitch, I see the frown growing on your face.” She scoots closer to me. “I know this seemed to start out weird and creepy, but you seem really happy, and you really seem to like him. I know I'm not necessarily on board with this, but you know all I want is for you to be okay and happy. And you are. So don’t freak out. I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have pointed it out.” She puts a hand on my thigh.

“I do like him. I like him a lot, actually. He’s…amazing.” I say truthfully. He makes me feel warm and jittery, but in a good way. I don’t feel anxious with him anymore, and I truly feel like he sees me. It took him a lot of digging and prying, poor thing, but I feel comfortable with him.

“Good, then don’t over think it. Everything’s fine. So, he came home?” I explain to her what happened. How he came home looking so rough, and about Henry. Telling her about everything that’s happened since last night, and about halfway through she pulls out a bottle of tequila from her purse. So, I grab my Malibu out of the cabinet and pop the top. “Oh, did you get my text? His friend, Carter? He’s single now. I’ve talked to him a couple of times from cutting his hair. He’s really nice, you should meet him.” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, but he works for Damien. I'm not nearly as adventurous as you, girl. I don’t want that life.” She swats her hand and retorts. Her famous attitude etched on her face.

“It’s not even really my life though. Granted, I watched him kill Cooper, but other than that, and seeing their set up today, I haven’t had to deal with much from it. He’s shown me a few things about how they operate, but he would never ask me to do something like that.”

“You just said he came home last night ‘beat up’ and you think that’s not dealing with it? You may not be out in a car chase right now, but that’s still dealing with it. And what happens if you have to? You’re a tough girl, but some of the men we see on the news and that kid’s podcast are scary as hell.”

“How would they even know about me?”

“I don’t know, girl. I'm just trying to think it through, you know? You’ve seen ‘Taken’ and every other action movie. The girlfriend or wife is always the bad guy’s target.” Great, now she’s got me thinking. What if someone did come after me? What if they came here looking for him? I don’t know what I would do or how I would react. I’ve never hurt someone, and I certainly don’t own a gun. Up until Damien, I cowered at even the thought of a man near me…

“Well, I don’t want to think about it. Come on.” I hop off of the counter and grab my phone.

“What are we doing?” She sighs.

“We’re going downstairs and getting my speaker. I have to drown out the violent thoughts you put in my head.” She hops off the counter and comes with me to go downstairs. I’m sure my neighbors are going to hate me after tonight, but they’ll live. What are they going to do? Call Emmett and complain?

We walk downstairs, through the small lobby, and into the shop. The waiting room is empty, and when I look over at Emmett’s cutting station, there’s hair on the floor, but no immediate sign of him. Our attention is drawn to the front window by the sound of revving engines and squealing tires. We look out to see a plain white box truck speeding by with a black SUV right on its tail. And not too long after, two police cruisers speed past. Sirens wailing and engines roaring. That’s definitely not a coincidence, and the image only contributes to my anxiety. I turn to Serena, and she’s standing with her arms crossed and her hip is poked out.

“I said I'm not dealing with it.” I say with a snarky tone and she shakes her head at me.

“Dealing with what?” I turn around to see Emmett bringing his client back from the shampoo area, a confused look on his face.

“Nothing.” I say in a squeaky octave.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going out of town?” He says as he begins drying off the client’s hair with a towel.

“We’re leaving in the morning; I came to grab my speaker.”

“You better not be here to work.” He smiles and points at me as he warns me. He focuses back on his client when his phone rings, and he politely excuses himself before answering. “Hey baby…” A concerned look overtakes his face. His brows crease and his body tenses. “No…No, don’t do anything. I'll check my client out and go…okay…okay bye.” He hangs up and pockets his phone again.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

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