Filthy: A Mafia Romance

We sat like that for a long time until I finally couldn’t take it. Changing the subject, I asked about Mrs. Walsh. “How did it go?”

Jessie groaned. “It was bad. I cut her hair, like, three inches too short and it’s uneven.”

I should have been horrified, but instead I let out a belting laughter. “Three inches?”

Covering her face, Jessie shook her head. “I know, I know. It’s bad. She was furious.”

“I told you to trim it!”

She lifted her shoulders as though to say I have no idea. “You said cut off the dead ends! Her hair had a ton of them.”

I laughed again. “Of course it does. That doesn’t mean she wants to get her hair cut off at the shoulders.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

We bickered on like that for a while and I finally started to relax again. I promised to give Jessie some styling and hair cutting training and she promised to be there whenever I needed her. There were a half dozen more customers that day, then it was time to head home. We stopped at the daycare center on the way home from school to pick Cody up, and by the time I walked through the door, I was utterly exhausted.

This new deal was going to be the death of me.

Chapter 10

Deliveries to The Cut became the regular. Louis would drop off shipments regularly, as would a quiet young man named Todd who rarely spared me a glance. They were the only two who would deal with me directly.

My payments to Ethan were kept low key and private. Well, mostly private. Sometimes Louis stayed to watch. Sometimes he left us to ourselves. But outside of the three of us, no one saw us together.

If anyone did, they might think that we had a friends with benefits relationship or something along those lines, but the idea was to keep the two of us as separate as possible. As I understood it, that was the whole point. Ethan needed somewhere that wasn’t directly linked to him. I happened to be one of a handful of places that he didn’t have his fingers dipped in.

Of course, he had his fingers in me six days a week. Despite my anger at the whole thing, I was starting to wonder. Wonder if I was actually enjoying my payments to Ethan.

The answer was mixed up in the complications of my own desires and the requirements of Ethan’s. I couldn’t tell if he got off on controlling me or if he was just using sex to manipulate me. There was a part of me that hoped he just enjoyed our time together, but that was a little part of me I often tried to squash.

I didn’t want him to enjoy our time any more than I wanted to enjoy our time. It was better if this really was just a business arrangement.

It was a Monday at The Cut, early in the afternoon. Jessie was practicing on a wig I’d dug up from the back, styling it and trimming it to my specifications. I was finishing up with a regular’s styling when the little bell above the door rang, indicating someone was here. I glanced over to see it was Todd.

I sighed. “Give me a second, Todd,” I told him. He waited patiently by the door. I finished up with Selene first. “All set.”

Selene examined her hair in the mirror, fluffing the back of it and making a fish face as she sucked in her cheeks. Satisfied, she smiled at me. “Thanks, sugar. It looks like gold.”

“You’re welcome. Jessie will take care of you at the register.”

She thanked me again then walked over to meet Jessie at the dilapidated register. I’d yet to replace the half-charred thing, instead cleaning it up as best I could. Jessie met her there, sending me a grim look at Todd’s presence.

Jessie wasn’t thrilled with the influx of shipments I was getting, nor was she happy with those goons that delivered them. And I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t say I was happy with Ethan’s men or with the drugs trickling into my store.

But unlike Jessie, I was beginning to accept my lot in life. Especially since the last six weeks since my deal with Ethan had been busier than ever. Suddenly, I had people in that I’d never seen before. Sure, the regulars stayed regular and the off the street walk-ins dropped by on discount days. But I’d been noticing a different sort of clientele stopping by.

Men who wanted a wash, a shave, and a little gel. Women who spent their days as navigators for the long-haul truckers. People that were just passing through and for reasons unknown decided they needed a cut and a shave.

I headed over to Todd, taking the clipboard he offered me and signing off on the items there. I didn’t even bother to look at what they were anymore; it was all bunk anyway. Last week it was potatoes.