Page 52 of Tear Me Down
“Are you going to get to me at some point today, or are you going to continue to zone out like a traumatized puppy?” Robert spits from his lips, directing my attention back to him. He’s always been rude, but he really seems to be on another level today. I nod and gesture him over to the chair only to watch him practically stomp like a child. Zeke glances up from his phone and looks at Robert like he spit at me, but I ignore it and turn my attention ‘where it should be.’
“Okay, are we switching to your summer cut, or are we still doing your business casual?” I ask as I drape the cutting cape around him, imagining myself choking him with the buttons around his neck the moment he huffs.
“Did I ask you to do anything different?” He narrows his eyes, and his lip hikes up in a curl of disgust—as if talking to him wasn’t permitted and I had the audacity to do so anyway. I want to snap back and remind him thatheis the one that comes in to seeme, but I grit my teeth and swallow back my response, knowing that self-control is the best idea here.
“I just wanted to make sure,” I say blankly and move to grab my shears, remembering the way I stabbed a man to death with a pair almost exactly like these and getting an itch on my palm. I can’t kill him. Not that I really want to, but I do feel myself getting hot again. It seems that the slightest agitation has me reeling lately, and his disrespectful mouth is no exception.
I hate that I'm so fucking quiet, so meek that I can't even think of a way to retaliate. A way to fight back. Some action to show that I don't deserve to be talked to this way or treated like the dirt under his pristine loafers. Granted, killing him or physically harming him is not the right way to show him that, but somehow, that’s where my mind automatically went. This is what Serena was talking about…and maybe she was right. Am I a danger to people?
The moment I move to trim the hair around his ears, he jerks away and scrunches his face, making me worry for a moment if I wounded him somehow. When I notice that the only redness on his ear is from the anger on his face, my concern turns into fury—completely casting out my previous thoughts.
“Did you not just hear what came out of my mouth?! I knew you were daft, but to be this asinine is truly an achievement,” he seethes and settles back in the chair like a child throwing a tantrum. This is theexactsame cut we normally do. Just because he’s always buried in his phone and doesn’t pay attention doesn’t mean that I’m the one in the wrong here.
Rage and disappointment flood my heart at the same time, waging a war with one another and fighting to the death. The volume of his voice immediately makes me want to cower and crawl under a bed, much like I would do when I was a child and heard my father screaming from downstairs. Though, that thought only enrages me more, and I can feel the build climbing to a point of no return—anger winning the brawl.
There's no reason for Robert to treat me this way. Especially after years of cutting his hair and being the good, compliant girl he always expects me to be when he walks in with his shitty attitude and rude comments. A fake smile is always plastered on my face, and I always tiptoe around him because I'm normally so intimidated by him anyway.
Damien has shown me that I don't always need to be the good girl, though—the one that fakes it until she makes it. A doll shoved into the corner for a pretty display. I've lived my whole life cowering behind a shield, kept myhead down and didn't cause any waves, but not anymore. I'm allowed to be as loud and problematic as I want, and I'm about to let myself off of my leash.
Everything is building up and charging in my chest, creating the shakiness in my hands that I’m determined to control. I squeeze my hands together and take a deep breath, pausing a moment before I snap—literally feeling like I’m falling off the edge or bursting through a doorway.
“You know what, Robert? Get the fuck out.” I set my shears down on my station, yank the cape apart and tear it off of him—not giving a single care for the surprised and appalled look on his face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he yells out and I step aside, no longer in fear, but to gesture him out of the damn door.
“Telling you to get out of my chair and get out of the shop. Even with howdaftI am, I don’t think I stuttered!” I shout back at him, surprised by the adrenaline coursing through me. The shakiness is still there, but it’s more of a quake. One that’s violent and desperate to be let out.
“You can’t be serious!” he yells as he stands, and I can feel the moment every eye in the store turns on us—whether it fuels me or drags me down, I can’t tell.
“She’s completely serious.” I hear Zeke back me up, and while I appreciate his support, it only makes me angrier. Just because we found out we’re blood related doesn’t make him my brother. He’s only here to protect me from physical threats from Dust, not to fight my battles for me. I didn’t need him for the past twenty-five years, and I certainly don’t now.
“Back off, Zeke! I don’t need your help!” I snap at him, only to turn around back to Robert. “I said get the fuck out!”
“Whoa, whoa! What is going on over here?” Emmett asks frantically as he walks over, holding his hands up like he’s approaching two wild animals.
“I’m sick of his degrading remarks and pretentious attitude, so I told him to get out.”
“Emmett, she’s clearly emotional and unhinged. I understand that she’s had a rough few weeks, but her behavior is clearly unacceptable.” Robert’s tone is suddenly calm and laced with faux concern, obviously trying to turn the tables and present me as a deranged woman.
“Are you kidding me?! I’munhinged?!” I shriek back and subconsciously take a stepintheir direction instead of away, and a sudden rush of confidence courses through me, only to be shoved away the moment Zeke grabs my arm. I jerk it away from him, scowling so harshly I can feel my eyes squint, and then turn back to Emmett—who is staring Robert down.
“Regardless of what she’s been through, you need to leave. You don’t disrespect one of my barbers. Especially not her,” Emmett retorts calmly and points to the door. Robert waits for a moment with his jaw dropped, as if he expected Emmett to side with him, but then storms out in a fit—throwing the shop door open so hard that the glass rattles before it ricochets and slams shut.
“Thanks, Emmett…” I start to say, and turn back to him.
“What is going on with you?” he interrupts me, and the shock explodes in my chest.
“What do you mean?” I ask him.
“Seriously, Emmett? That guy is a dick!” Zeke interjects, and I snap at him.
“Enough, Zeke!”
“Alright, go upstairs and calm down. You don’t need to be here feeling like this,” Emmett says, as more of a demand instead of a request.
I whip my head back around to Emmett, feeling my stomach plummet all the way from the high I was feeling.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
