“I’ll let you get some sleep, then.”
He walked by her side as she walked toward her car then gave her a kiss before opening the door for her.
“I’m having dinner with Stud and his family tomorrow night. You want to come? You can keep me from eating the pizza on the way there.”
“Throw in some chicken wings, and I’m there,” she said, getting into the car.
He tapped on the window before pulling out. “I’ll follow you to your apartment and make sure you get inside before I leave.”
“Hot thang, I don’t need you doing the protective boyfriend act. Anyone who tries to mess with me will get more than they bargained for. Besides, the only crime rate we have in Jamestown is speeding, or dealing drugs. I don’t do either. Go home.”
He gave her a searching look. “What if your neighbors are fighting again?”
“Then I’ll call the cops.” She rolled the window up before he could say anything else.
When she made the turn out of the parking lot, she wasn’t surprised to see he followed her.
There was a parking spot in front of her building, so she slid into it, locking the car when she got out and pointedly ignoring him as he watched her go up the metal steps to her apartment.
Unlocking her door, she gave him a finger before going inside and locking her door. She then stealthily peeked through the curtains as Calder left, and then looked at the cars in the parking lot to make sure Sam’s wasn’t there. When she didn’t see it, she went through her apartment, searching each room, including the closets, knowing she was becoming paranoid.
She almost wished Sam would try something. Her apartment building was heavily monitored by cameras on the outside.
Of all the jerks she had dated, she was becoming more and more wary of Sam. Joker had been the biggest loser of them all, but her instincts were telling her that Sam was just as bad, but smarter. That was what had her looking over her shoulder.
She wanted to kick her ass for ever going out with him. She had been blinded by the façade he had put on around others. He had seemed so straight-laced that he had refused to bribe the clerk at the convenience store when she wanted a beer after hours.
Getting undressed, she showered, pampering herself by painting her toenails with a bright red polish. She was admiring them, sitting on her bed, when her phone rang.
Picking it up, she didn’t recognize the number, so she dropped the phone down and turned the sound up on the television, hoping the commercial would come on again. She had turned it to the same channel that been on at the restaurant.
Bored, Crazy Bitch picked up her phone again. Whoever it was had left a voicemail.
Listening, she nearly dropped the phone at the vile suggestions coming from her phone.
“You low-class cunt, I’m going to fuck you until you’re…”
It didn’t sound like Sam, yet she knew it was him. The sick fucker must have bought a burner phone so she wouldn’t recognize his number.
“He thinks I’m low class?” she muttered to herself. “He’s going to find how low class I am.”
Crazy Bitch waved at Fat Louise as she passed her desk but didn’t stop, going to the elevator. Pushing the button, she went inside when it opened. Pressing the fourth-floor button, she impatiently waited for the elevator to glide upward. When the doors slid open, she walked directly to Sam’s office.
When she opened the glass door, the receptionist and the patients stared at her curiously.
“Hi, sugar, can I see Sam?”
“Uh, yes.” The woman stood, going through a side door. A minute later, she came back with Sam following behind her.
His face paled then turned angry. “What are you doing here?”
She pretended to be confused. “I missed your call last night. I didn’t want you thinking I was ignoring your calls.”
He stepped closer to the counter, lowering his voice so the patients in the office couldn’t hear. “I didn’t call you last night.”
“You sure? It sounded like you.” Lifting her hand, she raised her phone and pressed the button she had readied to play the message back. The vulgar filth pouring out of her phone forced shocked gasps out of the women in the room.
“Miss… please.” The receptionist tried to reach across the counter for her phone, but Crazy Bitch stepped back.
“That’s not me. It doesn’t sound anything like me.” Sam was angry, spittle hitting the desk.
“Really?” She put the phone in her pocket. “Then I’m sorry. I was wrong. But he sounds the same way when you pronounce sugar. The caller said ants will be eating what was left of me after you’re done fucking me like sugar.”
“A lot of people pronounce sugar like that.” He tried to bluster his way through, but Crazy Bitch could see the suspicion on receptionist’s face and the other employees who had come out when they heard her trying to take the phone away from her.
“You pronounce it that way?” Crazy Bitch cocked her head in the receptionist’s direction.
“No.”
“Me, either. Most of my friends don’t, either. The only one I know is you, and you’re from Georgia.”
“Get out before I call the police.”
“I’m going. I just wanted to give you a chance to tell me what you wanted to do to me in person, but I guess you’re too big a coward to do that.”
Turning, she stalked out of the office, going to the elevator. She warily listened for the door in case he followed her, but he had proven her point—Sam was too big a coward to confront her head-on where anyone else could see.
She stopped by Fat Louise’s desk, warning her what she had done.
“When I tell Cade—”
“You’re not going to say anything to Cade or anyone else. I saw those women’s faces. I think most of them believed me. If someone mentions me, just say we don’t hang out much anymore and I didn’t say anything to you about it. You might get lucky and still be considered for the job.”
“I don’t care—”
“Yes, you do. He’d be stupid to mess with me again. He’ll be too afraid of what I’d do next while he’s working. This will blow over if we give it time.”
“I hope you’re right.” Fat Louise gazed doubtfully up at her.
“I might not be Killyama, but I can take care of myself. You know that.”
Conceding, Fat Louise gave in with a sigh. “I won’t say anything.”
“You going to the club Friday?”
“Yes, I managed to find a sitter.”
“I’ll see you then. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Crazy Bitch put the incident behind her after she walked out of the hospital.
She barely managed to beat her first customer to the shop. She had just flicked the open sign on when Gail walked inside with a cheerful attitude that was hard to take before Crazy Bitch had her first cup of coffee.
Turning the pot on, she then settled Gail in the chair and tucked a cape around her.
“You want something different, or the same?” Crazy Bitch asked as she combed her hair out.
“The same, but can you go a tiny bit darker this time?”
“No problem. You want a cup of coffee?”
“Please. I didn’t want to keep you waiting, so I didn’t stop.”
She made each of them a cup, giving Gail hers before taking a sip of the scalding-hot coffee as she went to mix the color.
Sectioning the hair, she asked Gail if she was seeing anyone.
“No, I haven’t met anyone new, and I’m not interested. I need to broaden my horizons or start looking online.”
The twenty-four-year-old school teacher should have men running after her. She was blonde, thin, and had a brain.
“Be careful about broadening your horizons. I tried that, and you don’t want to know how well that turned out.”
“Who was it?” Gail’s curiosity was aroused.
“No one you would know. I could introduce you to some men at the Destructors?
?? club. Some of them—”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Some of them are really good guys.” Well, two or three were.
“Can they read?” she joked.
Her estimation of the woman dropped to zero at her contempt. If she thought of the men in a derogatory way, then she would feel the same about her.
“They can read. Warrick borrowed Slaughterhouse-Five from me, and I borrowed Cat’s Cradle from Z. Have you read it?”
“No.”
“When I get finished, I can lend it to you.”
“That’s okay. I can get my own copy.”
Crazy Bitch switched to discussing the weather to keep herself from throwing the uptight bitch out of the shop.
She was finishing putting the color on Gail’s hair when Sex Piston came through the door.
“I heard you’re coming to dinner tonight with Calder.”
“The color needs to set for twenty minutes,” Crazy Bitch told her customer, giving her a magazine.
“I was going to tell you when you got here,” she directed at Sex Piston.
Sex Piston buttoned up her smock. “You could have texted me last night.”
“I was busy painting my toenails.”
“You’re pulling out the big guns to catch him—painting your toenails. What’s next, getting your eyebrows threaded?”
“Why do that when I can get you to do it for free?”
Sex Piston ran a finger over one of her brows. “Remind me to touch them up before I go home.”
“We’re only going to your house.” The woman plucking her brows hurt like a bitch. “You can do it next Friday. Calder and I will be riding out of town.”
“You figured out what cowboy casserole meant?”
“There’s a rodeo going on next Friday in Corbin, at the fair.”
Sex Piston had the reaction she’d had. She was still wiping the tears away when her customer showed up in a wave of toxic fumes that had her nearly gagging.
“Mrs. Carpenter, you’re right on time. I have your favorite chair waiting.”
The tiny old woman was so small and frail Sex Piston had to raise the chair by small degrees.
“I see you drove yourself.”
“I may be ninety-two, but I can drive better than my son.”
“Devon just doesn’t want you to get anymore speeding tickets.”
The old woman waved her concerns away. “I bought myself a radar detector at the swap meet. None of those cops are going to be catching me again. Devon is just being an old worry wart. You’d think a seventy-year-old bachelor would have better things to worry about than his mother who’s in better health than he is.”
“He’s not blind in one eye like you are.”
“I can see better with one good eye than he can with two.”
“If you say so.”
Crazy Bitch hid her grin, starting to take the aluminum foil out of Gail’s hair. She was grateful when she was able to move her to the washing station to escape the overpowering perfume Mrs. Carpenter was wearing.
Washing and giving her a scalp massage as she conditioned, she was still angry at her. She was about to wash it out when her professionalism made her feel guilty, massaging for several more minutes.
Moving her back to her chair, she cut her hair and blow-dried it without making the effort to chat, letting Sex Piston and Mrs. Carpenter’s conservation fill the room.
As she styled Gail’s hair, Crazy Bitch wasn’t able to hold back her tongue any longer when she saw Gail condescendingly listening in as Sex Piston invited Mrs. Carpenter and her son over to dinner one night at her parents’ house.
“Skulls and Ma would love to see you. I’ll cook. We can even go by the club and get a beer afterward. Of course, I would drive you home if you did,” she hastened to add the last part.
“I’d love to. We’re not doing anything this Saturday.”
“I’ll call Ma after I’m done and let her know. It’ll make her day.”
Crazy Bitch wound a section of Gail’s hair around the curling iron then moved to another.
“You want me to order the brownies when I pick up the pizzas for dinner tonight?” Prodding the curl the way she wanted it, she started curling another.
“Yes. If the pizza doesn’t add five pounds to my ass, the brownies will.”
“Star finish that book she was reading?” Crazy Bitch turned the chair to start another section.
Sex Piston turned her attention away from Mrs. Carpenter, gaping at the question.
“What b—”
“I told Star that, when she finished reading The Grapes of Wrath, we would watch the movie together and see which was better: the movie or the book.”
“Huh…? Are you…?”
Before Sex Piston could say anything, Crazy Bitch started talking to Gail.
“Sex Piston is just being modest. Her daughter is so smart she should be tested for accelerated classes. Have you met Star’s father, Stud?”
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”
“Of course, he doesn’t use his real name. His fans are always asking for his autograph. He races motorcycles, and he’s made a name for himself building them. His daughters, Meri and Keri, are going to be seniors this year. They’re really smart, too.” Crazy Bitch finished curling Gail’s hair, brushing it down gently so she wouldn’t lose the curl. “Yep, they’re smart as tacks. They take after their father. He’s the president of the Destructors. Stud and Sex Piston are taking the whole family to France when the girls graduate. They have a personal friend who’s invited them to stay. She’s a contessa.” She took off the cape, handing Gail the mirror for her to see the job she had done. “You been to France?”
“No, I haven’t. I love the color, thank you.” Gail reached for her purse, taking out a wallet to hand over her credit card. “Schedule me for another appointment six weeks from now.”
“Right now, I’m booked up for the next six months. But if I get any openings, I’ll phone you.”
Gail’s hand went to her hair protectively. “But you always do my hair every six weeks.”
“I’m so sorry.” She pretended a sorrow she didn’t feel. “I must have forgotten when I set my appointments.”
Gail turned helplessly toward Sex Piston. “Do you have any openings?”
“She’s full, too.” Crazy Bitch gave her the ticket to sign, knowing she wouldn’t be getting a tip.
“Make sure you call me if you get an opening,” she said, giving her the ticket back after signing it.
“I will.”
This time, she didn’t give a fuck what her professionalism was shouting at her. The snooty bitch could go to the Cut and Chop as far as she cared.
“What in the hell was that about?” Sex Piston asked as soon as the door closed behind Gail.
“I offered to introduce her to some of the men at the club, and she had the nerve to ask if they could read.”
Sex Piston placed her hand on her hip. “Most of them probably can’t.”
“That bitch doesn’t know that for sure,” Crazy Bitch argued back.
“She’s a fucking teacher,” she said between clenched teeth.
“That doesn’t give her the right to act all hoity-toity.”
“Girls, calm down,” Mrs. Carpenter tried to intervene.
“She’s a teacher in Star’s school. She’s going in the grade that Gail teaches.”
“Maybe she won’t get Star.” Crazy Bitch started to feel a glimmer of regret.
“What if she does?”
Crazy Bitch snapped her fingers. “Don’t worry; I’ll buy her the Cliff’s notes, and I’ll read it to her.”
“Why did you even say she was reading The Grapes of Wrath?”
“It was on the book list Winter kept trying to get me to read when I was getting my GED.”
“Did you read it?”
“Fuck no. And I didn’t read the other ones she kept bugging me about, either. Why read it when I have two perfectly good t
elevision sets?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, dear. That young woman probably forgot about it before she was out your door.”
“See, you’re always complaining on something I said…” Crazy Bitch mimicked the same snotty air of the bitch who had just left.
“She’s probably wondering why a contessa is living in France. They’re Italian,” Mrs. Carpenter informed her.
“Mrs. Carpenter.” Sex Piston set her hairbrush carefully down at her station.
“Yes, dear?”
“Cover your ears.”
15
“I don’t have to read it, do I?” Star complained, setting the table off in another round of laughter.
“No,” Sex Piston told the girl as she helped pick up the dirty plates on the table. “You can wait until you’re in high school.”
“What do I do if Miss Williams asks me a question?”
“Tell her you haven’t finished it yet, and you don’t want to talk about it until you’re finished. That always worked for me.” Crazy Bitch snagged the last piece of pizza before Meri could take the box away to clean the table.
“How did it work for you? You never graduated from high school, and you didn’t get your GED until you were thirty.”
“I got it, though.” She gave Star a wink. “And you can, too. Anything is possible; remember that, Star.”
“Bitch, are you trying to say she won’t be finishing high school like you?”
She barely had time to snatch her pizza off her plate before Sex Piston angrily took it away.
“I’m still eating here!” Placing a possessive hand on her soda, she gave Keri a glare when she tried to take it. “Harley, make your ma and sisters quit bugging me.”
Stud’s only son shook his head stubbornly. “You stole my brownie when I went to the bathroom.”
“I thought you were done with it.”
“I told you I wasn’t when you asked for it before I went.”
She motioned the little boy to come closer. “I’m going to tell you a secret. You promise you won’t tell?”
He solemnly nodded.
“Boys are always supposed to give up their chocolate when a girl asks for it, especially your aunt.”
“Dad didn’t tell me about that rule.” Harley lifted questioning eyes toward where his father was sitting.