Page 12 of Ten

He craved tenderness. He craved intimacy. He watched Nikolai with Vivian and Sergei with Bianca and envied their marriages. He wanted that. He wanted a wife and a family. He wanted the nice house and the kids in soccer and gymnastics and vacations to Disney World every summer.

But he would never have those things. He was tainted, and no woman would ever want to tie herself to him. Even if Nisha gave him a chance to take her out, the odds were against him.

He knew all about her ex-husband, Kiki. They had run in the same underworld circles, and Kiki’s reputation as a hair-trigger psycho was well known. More than once, Kiki had tried to provoke him, but Ten had refused to give in and take the bait. There were rules, and Nikolai didn’t fuck around when it came to keeping the peace.

When it came out that Kiki was a serial killer, Ten hadn’t been surprised. No one who lived in the darkness of their world was. Kiki and thatpederastAdrian Umansky and their partner Fat Tony had been under suspicion by the boss and Kostya. There was something wrong about those three, and Nikolai and the cartel should have never allowed the trio to work together on drug and gun runs. Everywhere they went, violence followed.

Tony. Ten’s jaw tightened with hatred. That piece of shit was the reason he had gone to prison. Ten had done his time without complaint. He kept his head down, played by the rules, and got out on parole as quickly as possible. Now, he was on the outside, enjoying his freedom, and Tony was rotting six feet underground in the Forest Park Cemetery in Webster.

The jingle of Nisha’s gold bracelets filtered through his thoughts and brought him back to the present. She had rinsed the shampoo and applied a conditioner, massaging it into his hair until his shoulders slackened and his scalp tingled.

“Don’t fall asleep,” she teased.

“I’ve been chasing after a crawling baby all day. I’ve got maybe 5% left in my battery.”

She laughed softly. “Lev is a sweetheart. Those eyes and that hair! He’s adorable.”

“He knows it,” Ten grumbled. “He’s got everyone wrapped around his finger like a little prince.”

“Well,” she said, turning on the water again, “he kinda is a little prince.”

“Kinda.” Nikolai and Vivian were the king and queen of Houston’s underworld.

“It’s good practice chasing after Lev,” she said and rinsed his hair. “I mean if that’s something you want in the future.”

“It is.” He cracked open an eye to judge her response and caught her smile. “What about you?”

Her smile faded, and she turned off the water. She reached for a towel from a nearby shelf, and with her back turned, she said, “Yes. I’d like to have kids someday.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, silently berating himself for upsetting her. “I shouldn’t have asked such a personal question.”

“It’s fine.” She smiled down at him, but it wasn’t as genuine. “It’s a touchy subject for me.”

“I’m sorry.” He felt even worse now. He didn’t know everything that happened to her while married to Kiki, but he should have remembered she had lost her baby. He should have been more careful with her.

“It’s fine.” She patted his shoulder. “We’re fine.”

He wasn’t so sure of that. She dried his hair and beckoned him back to the barber chair. He stayed silent as she grabbed her tools from her station. Their friendly banter had cooled, and he wasn’t sure how to get back on track. Maybe he had blown it for today and should let it go.

She worked quickly and efficiently, her scissors snipping and the comb sliding through his shaggy hair to separate the short sections. There was none of the gossip and laughter that he normally heard among the clients and their stylists. Every now and then, their gazes would clash in the mirror, and she would smile and then glance away quickly.

You fucked it, Anton. You fucked it up good.

When she finished the cut, she began to style his hair. He never used products in it, but he had to admit it looked nice. “Do you sell this stuff?”

“Yes. Would you like to buy some?”

“Yeah.” He watched her apply some kind of mousse that smelled woodsy and clean to his hair. “That’s all there is to it?”

“That’s it. You have great hair so you don’t need much.” She grabbed a fat, fluffy brush and cleaned the clipped hairs clinging to his skin. “Do you want me to hit you with a blow dryer to get all of this off?”

“No, I’m headed home to shower.”

“Hot date?”

Seizing his chance, he said, “Only if you’re available.”

Suddenly demure, she glanced away and seemed very interested in dusting his neckline with the fluffy brush. “My book club meets tonight.”

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