Page 111 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are wide and uncertain. My body is stiff and uncomfortable. I look like I don’t belong. And I feel it keenly.

“I… I’m not really sure.”

Hannah studies my hair. “You’ve got lovely hair, and the color is naturally highlighted. But you’ve got a lot of split ends.”

“Split ends?”

“Nothing a trim won’t fix. I can also give you the keratin package. It’s a protein-infused treatment that helps revitalize your hair.”

I glance towards Charity, silently asking for help, but she’s got her eyes closed and her head tilted back.

“I think just a haircut for now.”

“Sure. And how about a facial afterwards?” Hannah presses. “You’ll feel like Cinderella by the time I’m done with you.”

Feeling flustered, I do the only thing I can do: nod and play along.

* * *

I spend the next few hours quiet as she works on my hair then my face.

There are moments when I feel relaxed and pampered. But there are equally as many moments when I feel claustrophobic. Like this is all a setup and something terrible is bound to happen at any moment.

When my facial is done, I practically jump out of my chair. “Thanks.”

Hannah gives me an appraising smile. “Aren’t you a beauty!”

I turn to the mirror and stop short when I see my reflection. The haircut and blow dry has done wonders to frame my face. My hair already looks healthier. And the facial has cleared up my skin quite a bit.

“Damn, girl, that haircut’s really working for you.”

I turn to Charity as she walks in from the next room where she’d been having her own facial. Her hair is a few inches shorter and bouncier because of it. Her highlights are subtle but effective. Even her face looks so much clearer, just like mine. As if the bruises have been cleaned away.

“You look great.”

“I know, right?” she says, with a contented nod. “I didn’t actually get the facial.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face still hurts like a bitch,” she says. “So they gave me a makeover of sorts.”

“Is that why I can’t really see your bruises anymore?”

“Makeup can work wonders,” she says with a wink. She turns to the mirror and checks herself out. “They’re covered over with foundation. But at least I can’t really see them anymore.”

I know what she means—that she’s not going to be reminded of them every time she looks in a mirror. That, like me, she can forget the pain of her past.

If only for a little while.

“Okay,” Charity says, clapping her hands together. “How about we get breakfast and then start shopping?”

My stomach is definitely in agreement, so I nod. As we exit the salon, I notice one of our guards handing Hannah a black credit card.

“Damn,” Charity mutters, grabbing my arm.

“What?”

“I’ve seen those cards before. They’re freaking amazing. They don’t even have limits. This is going to be a great day.”

---