Shame on You (3 page)

CHAPTER 5

G
et away from me, you little rat,” I whisper to Mrs. Justin Bieber as she sniffs the toe of my boot and then walks away in an angry huff.

I glare at Paige as she happily chats up Sven a few feet away, hoping she’ll feel my stare of death and get me the hell out of here. I don’t have time for this. I have a bail jumper to catch and a Harley man to get rid of.

I reach my fingers up to the neckband of the black plastic cape and tug on it, trying to relieve some of the choking sensation. My head itches like crazy so I use one of my fingernails to dig in between the foils.

“Don’t touch anysing. Vhat is vrong viff you. You mess up my masterpiece,” Sven scolds as he walks over to me, smacks my hand away, and lifts up some of the foils on my head to check them.

I know for a fact Sven’s name is really Steve and he was born and raised in Jersey. Every time he speaks I want to borrow a page out of my dad’s handbook, smack him upside the head, and ask him what the hell is wrong with him.

“Can you please remoof da gun? It making me so nervous. You shoot Sven on accident,” he tells me with a nervous shiver as he stares down at my gun in its holster at my hip.

“How much longer is this going to take? I have work to do,” I complain as I unclip my gun and holster and set it on the tray of unused foils next to me.

“Beauty takes time, Kennedy. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll take you out for ice cream when we’re finished,” Paige says with a smile.

Is it illegal for me to pull my gun in the middle of a salon? I need to check the rules of my CCW permit.

“Here, why don’t you read through McFadden’s file while you’re sitting there so patient and well behaved.” Paige picks up the folder on the floor by my feet and drops it into my lap.

While Sven walks over to the front desk and Paige flips through a magazine next to me, I watch as Mrs. Justin Bieber whizzes on the floor in the middle of the room. Rolling my eyes, I suck it up and try to get some work done while I’m slowly tortured to death with foil and hair color.

Flipping through the pages of the life and times of Martin McFadden, I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing. This guy
is
nuts. According to what Lorelei found in his court records, he’s been to jail twenty-two times for making erroneous phone calls to the police. Phone calls about tiny little green men from Mars that were trying to break into his house and eat his brain. Two years ago he was arrested outside of a costume shop at Halloween, screaming at anyone who would listen that if they bought alien costumes, it would anger the little men and they would kill us all. Six months ago he petitioned for a patent for his “Alien Safety Helmet,” a pile of tinfoil that he believes should be mandatory for all citizens to wear to protect them from their thoughts being stolen in the middle of the night. He even wrote a book called
They’re Reading Our Minds, Watching Us Sleep
.

Sweet Jesus. This is the guy I have to track down?

As I continue reading, I hear the bell as the door opens and someone asks if they handle dog grooming. As I continue to read and try to ignore the conversation going on by the reception desk, I hear a word that makes me whip my head up and my eyes bug out of my head:
Tinkerdoodle
.

My eyes meet McFadden’s across the room as he cradles a trembling brown Chihuahua in his arms. I didn’t get a very good look at him when he sped off in his Honda, but I have one of his mug shots and it’s definitely my guy. If he hadn’t already shot at me, I’d say he looks harmless. Almost like a professor of literature with his dark brown corduroy pants, blue button-down shirt, and light brown, cable-knit sweater, his brown hair graying at the temples.

Even with all the foil on top of my head and the cape draped around me, he recognizes me immediately and lets out an ear-piercing shriek before turning and running for the door.

“SON OF A BITCH!” I shout as I scramble to get out of the chair. My feet immediately get caught in the yards of plastic cape and I land in a cursing heap on the floor.

“PAIGE, STOP HIM!” I shout to my friend as she immediately bursts into action and easily leaps over Mrs. Justin Bieber in her four-inch Manolo Blahniks and runs toward the door. McFadden shoves Sven out of the way and into a shelf of hair products and everything comes crashing to the ground, Sven included.

Even though he’s lying in a pile of shampoo and conditioner, Sven reaches out with one arm and grabs McFadden’s pant leg to try and keep him in place while Paige makes her way closer by kicking hair products out of her way with her heels.

Pushing myself up off the floor, I race across the room as McFadden continues to go for the door, dragging Sven across the floor on his belly behind him while Mrs. Justin Bieber begins yapping and racing around in circles. I watch Paige easily jumping through the maze of fallen bottles and almost grab him when her heel punctures a shampoo bottle and she stops to try and kick it loose. With Paige distracted, McFadden sees me coming for him and starts grabbing anything he can find and pitching it at us one-handed as he heads for the door. Aerosol tins of hairspray fly past my head and Paige takes a gallon jug of conditioner to the shoulder before Sven finally loses his hold on McFadden’s pant leg.

“MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!” Sven screams hysterically as Paige and I jump over his body and fly out of the door right behind McFadden, poor Tinkerdoodle shaking in fear in his arms as he runs.

When we get out onto the sidewalk, I quickly scan every direction until I spot him sprinting full speed to his Honda parked along the curb a block away. I take off at a dead run, my black cape flying behind me like I’m a superhero and I hear Paige’s heels smacking against the cement as she races behind me.

“STOP! MCFADDEN!” I scream as I race down the sidewalk and watch him jump into his vehicle and start it up.

He peels out of his parking spot and does a U-turn in the middle of the street, pulling his car right up to Paige and me as we stand there trying to catch our breath.

“You’re wearing my Alien Safety Helmet!” he exclaims through his open window as he stares in awe at the foil on my head. “You believe! I feel like under different circumstances, we could really be friends.”

Stepping down off the curb, I reach for my gun in its side holster, but quickly realize Sven made me take the fucking thing off.

“SHIT!” I yell in frustration as my hands get tangled in the plastic. “McFadden, don’t you dare move. Get out of the car right now. You skipped bail and stole someone’s dog.”

Tinkerdoodle lets out a high-pitched yap and McFadden cradles the dog to his chest.

“They didn’t appreciate her! She’s my best friend. YOU’LL NEVER TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!” he screams before gunning the car and taking off down the street.

He’s too far away at this point for me to take a shot at one of his tires to slow him down even if I did have my gun on me. And as I glance around and see all of the people out on the sidewalk watching what just happened, I assume they wouldn’t have appreciated me firing my gun at a car in the middle of the day anyway.

I can hear sirens in the distance. Sven must have called the police. I can’t believe that idiot was right there in front of us and we didn’t get him. This is appalling. Thankfully, my brother Ted and my cousin Ward both work for the local police department so the odds are pretty good that one of them will show up. And if I threaten their lives, they’ll keep this whole thing a secret. No one needs to know that I had my bail jumper within arm’s reach and couldn’t get him because I was getting my hair highlighted. I would never live that shit down.

“I can’t believe that asshole got away,” Paige complains with her hands on her hips as she stares off down the street.

Turning toward her, I look down at her shoes in awe. “How in the hell did you run so fast in those things?”

“That was nothing. Try being at a Gucci sample sale. Those bitches will cut you if you’re not fast,” she says with a shrug.

As we turn to make my way back to the salon, the rumbling sound of a Twin Cam Harley engine makes me freeze in place. I slowly turn around.

GD McFadden.

CHAPTER 6

Y
ou really shouldn’t have prettied yourself up just for me,” Griffin says with a laugh as he saunters over to me.

Catching my reflection in the storefront window next to me, I realize I still have foils in my hair and they are sticking up in every direction. Not to mention the splendid cape that’s draped around my body making it look like I’m a member of McFadden’s Anti-Martian army.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

“Why are you here?” I mutter through clenched teeth as I stand up as straight as I can and pretend like the fact that I’m out on the sidewalk looking like an ass in front of this man doesn’t bother me in the least.

“I heard the news on my police scanner. Figured I’d stop by and commend you on catching our criminal. But I’m assuming by the pissed-off look on your face that he got away,” he mocks.

“McFadden is not
our
criminal. He’s
my
criminal. I already told you I don’t need your help. He caught me by surprise, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting him to show up at a salon in broad daylight.”

If he doesn’t stop smirking at me, I’m going to rip this stupid cape off, wrap it around his neck, and choke the life out of him.

“Since when do you go to salons? I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead in one of these places,” he questions. I can see him pressing down hard on his lips, his eyes glancing to my hair and then quickly back to my eyes.

“I don’t go to these places. I have friends who go to these places and drag me here against my will. And it’s just highlights, nothing drastically life changing. Golden blonde highlights that will bring out the gold specks in my eyes.”

Overshare much, Kennedy?

“You don’t need highlights for that. Your eyes are gorgeous enough all on their own,” he says softly as he looks into said gorgeous eyes.

Holy hell, is it hot out here or is it just me? And what the devil is he playing at, flirting with me like this? Yes, I said
flirting
and I realize how outrageous that sounds. Griffin Crawford is fucking flirting with me. I’ve known him long enough to know when he’s turning on the charm. I’ve seen him charm the underwear right off a stranger in two point three seconds just by complimenting her legs. My underwear is staying right where it is, thank you very much.

Before I can tell him exactly what I think about him and his stupid gorgeous-eyes compliment, a police cruiser pulls up to the curb next to us. I thank my lucky stars when I see my cousin Ward get out and come around to stand next to us.

“Nice hairstyle, Kennedy. Trying to make a phone call to your motherland?” Ward asks with a laugh as he reaches up and flicks one of the foils on my head.

Never mind. I take back my thankfulness.

“Kiss my ass, Ward. I’ve had a bad fucking day.”

I know what you’re saying to yourself right now: this sounds like June Cleaver finally had enough of Beaver and the gang’s shit.

Ward can see by the look on my face that he should leave me alone. I won’t hesitate to put him in a headlock in the middle of the sidewalk. I don’t care if he is wearing his police uniform.

“Griffin, my man! How’ve you been?” Ward asks, turning his attention away from me.

“Can’t complain,” Griffin replies as the two men exchange handshakes and start talking back and forth about Notre Dame’s upcoming season. As teenagers and into early adulthood, we all hung out together: my brothers, my cousins, Griffin, Alex, and me. We were all close in age and we all had the army in common so it naturally made us friends.

The fact that my brothers and my cousins are still friendly with Griffin when he screwed me over pisses me off. They should hate him on principle. If some woman came into my family’s lives and stomped all over their hearts, I would cut that bitch. Where’s the damn loyalty?

“Excuse me, I hate to interrupt this bromance, but we have work to do.” I glare at my cousin.

“I’m sorry, it is impossible to take you seriously right now with all that shit on your head,” Ward says, laughing.

I take a step in his direction, preparing myself for a mind-erasing headlock when Griffin lightly touches my arm.

“Before you kill him, we need to talk,” Griffin tells me.

“We have nothing to talk about. I’m going to go inside and get this crap out of my hair and then I’m going to get to work. You can just get your ass back on that bike and go find someone else to annoy,” I tell him as I turn and fling the door to the salon open angrily.

As soon as I walk inside I’m met by the sounds of wails and barking. Sven is still sitting on the floor in a pile of hair products while Paige attempts to console him, and Mrs. Justin Bieber is losing her shit, barking at anything in her general vicinity and stopping every ten seconds to piss on the floor.

“I ALMOST DIED, PAIGE! It was HORRIBLE! I have so many regrets. So many things I’ve never accomplished. I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!”

I wonder if anyone else notices that in the midst of Sven’s hysterics he seems to have forgotten he has an accent. Paige is crouched down next to Sven and pats him on the back at the appropriate times. She catches my gaze and rolls her eyes in annoyance.

“There, there, Sven. You’re okay. Look, Kennedy is back!” she exclaims, getting up from her spot on the floor and rushing over to me, lowering her voice so only I can hear her. “I’m going to punch him in his face if he doesn’t stop whining.”

Taking a deep breath, I move away from Paige and over to Sven’s spot on the floor.

“Sven, you did really good under pressure. You almost had that guy!” I tell him so he’ll quit the damn crying.

Sven sniffles and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

“I did do vell, didn’t I? I always sought I should haff been a cop. I haff all of dees natural eenstincts,” he tells me seriously, in full-on Germedishithuanian, or wherever-the-hell-he-thinks-he’s-from accent.

It takes everything in me not to laugh in his face, but I have to rein it in. I need this guy to fix my hair, pronto.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right. How about you get up off the floor and take these foils out of my hair while my cousin Ward questions you?” I ask as Ward walks through the door.

“Oooooh, a man in uniform! I veel better already,” Sven exclaims as he takes in my cousin from head to toe before jumping up off the floor and extending his hand out to him, wrist cocked, like he wants Ward to kiss the top of his hand. “My name eez Sven. I am zee one who almost captured zee criminal.”

Paige and I share a look of annoyance before turning back to watch Ward awkwardly grab Sven’s hand and shake it like a limp noodle.

While Sven begins to regale my cousin with his act of heroism, the bell chimes above the door and I turn to see Griffin walk in.

“Out! Get out!” I raise my hand and point to the door.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” Griffin replies firmly.

I don’t even acknowledge his words. I turn my back on him and drag Sven back toward the shampoo bowls as Ward follows us and continues to ask Sven questions about whether or not he’d ever seen McFadden in the shop before and if McFadden mentioned anything about where he was staying.

Getting comfortable in the reclining seat with my head in the bowl, I close my eyes and try to relax as Sven begins removing foils while talking to Ward. I’m assuming Griffin finally got the hint, but a few seconds later when Sven is running warm water through my hair and massaging my head, I realize Griffin wouldn’t get the hint if it ran him over with a Mack truck.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” Griffin whispers close to my ear.

Too close. I can feel his breath against my neck and it makes me grit my teeth when I feel goose bumps on my arms. Can’t he see I’m trying to relax here? He needs to leave me the hell alone. I may not be able to avoid him forever, like he says, but I sure as hell can refuse to talk to him until he goes away.

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk now, we can do it later,” he states before standing up to his full height and then turning to leave.

As Sven finishes washing my hair and wraps a towel around my head, I avoid smirking to myself as I see Griffin walk away.

The power of my ignoring skills cannot be beat. We all know that when a man says he’ll do something “later,” it will never, ever be completed. I actually find myself smiling as I walk over to Sven’s station so he can spray and brush and flat-iron and all that other shit that usually makes me cringe. Right now, Sven can do whatever he wants to me. Griffin has gotten the hint and is finally walking away.

I don’t realize I’m staring at Griffin’s ass as he walks away until I’m not looking at his ass anymore. I’m looking at the general vicinity of Paige’s crotch as she steps into my line of vision.

I look up at her with a scowl and she raises her eyebrows at me. “I saw that, so don’t try to deny it.”

I pretend like I have no idea what she’s talking about as Sven fires up the blow dryer and goes to town on my hair.

“Saw what? There’s nothing to see here,” I argue.

“Oh, nonsense,” Sven butts in. “Ve all saw you looking at hees ass.”

Paige laughs as I glare at her.

“Don’t be angry, Kennedy. It’s a very nice ass. What I’d like to know is, why, in all the conversations we’ve had about your dear, old friend Griffin, have you never mentioned what a fine specimen that man is?” Paige demands, putting her hands on her hips.

“Griffin? Good-looking? Pshaw,” I reply, brushing off her com
ment.

Griffin isn’t good-looking. Griffin is hot as balls. But Paige doesn’t need to know that I know that she knows I know that. Holy hell, I may have had this hair dye in my hair too long.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Kennedy O’Brien. Your eyes got all dreamy when he was bent over whispering in your ear just a second ago,” she fires back.

“My eyes did
not
get all dreamy! I don’t do dreamy!” I shout above the noise of the hair dryer.

Mrs. Justin Bieber waddles over at this point, stands by my feet, and then yaps at me. One short, high-pitch
yipe
.

“See? Mrs. Justin Bieber even know you lying,” Sven adds.

“Look, I get that he pissed you off. You thought he was your friend and he did something that hurt you. But he’s trying. He wants to talk to you and maybe it’s time you give him a chance to tell his side of the story. If you won’t, I will. Of course, that man won’t have time to talk if I have a few minutes alone with him.” Paige licks her lips as she stares at the door through which Griffin exited moments ago.

If my hair wasn’t wrapped around a brush right now and I didn’t fear losing a large chunk of it by yanking away, I would spring from this chair and smack the horny right off her face. Just the idea of Griffin and Paige alone in a room together doing everything
but
talking makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little. Just because I’m pissed at the guy doesn’t mean I want him anywhere near one of my friends. My hot model friend who has never had a bad-hair day in her life and never stood in front of a person after months of not speaking to him with foil in her hair, looking like an idiot.

Griffin is going to go back to whatever hole he crawled out of, I’m going to catch McFadden
on my own
, and I am never, ever going to get caught ogling that man’s ass ever again.

GD fine ass.