Page 1 of Monster's Claim
Chapter One
“How short do you want it, honey?”thehairdresser asked, sass in his voice.
She wished she could pull off his wild,rainbow-dyed hair, envying his confidence.
Lara gazed at her reflection in the mirror,seeing the same awkward, curvy girl who’d never learned to acceptor grow comfortable with herself.She reached for one tumbled lockof dark brown hair that fell below her shoulders, twisted herfingers into it, and gave it a tug.Her chest tightened, making ithard to breathe for a few seconds.
Bad memories resurfaced, like watertrickling through a hole in the boat.For a moment, she forgotwhere she was.Lara remembered his leering face, his fingerstugging at her hair until her entire scalp felt like someone set iton fire.
Breathe in, breathe out,Lara toldherself.
“Honey?”the hairdresser repeated, touchingone shoulder.
She jumped in her seat by reflex, stilldistrustful of anyone touching her.The hairdresser lookedconcerned, his gaze softening.Lara cleared her throat and saw hercheeks and neck turning red in the mirror.
“Until here, chin level,” she said, thenthought about it.“No, I want it as short as a boy’s.”
“You sure?You have such pretty hair.Such awaste,” the hairdresser murmured.
Her hair was the only part of herself sheused to love.Used to, until she met Skip.
“I don’t,” she began, unable to continue.Lara clutched at the armrests of her seat, digging her nails intothe leather.
She looked at herself in the mirror, seeingonly herself.Pathetic.A victim.Lara didn’t want to be thatanymore.She’d spent way too many weeks, locked inside herapartment, gorging on takeout.Days would pass.Her shields wouldweaken.She’d start to consider patching up with Skip.So weak,Lara, her mother would have said if she were alive.
“I don’t want any asshole using my hair todrag me down the stairs anymore,” she whispered softly, not lookingat anyone’s eyes.
One step at a time,Lara toldherself.She’d dig herself out of this miserable hole she putherself in since she met Skip and convince herself that she coulddo better.
“Wait here,” the hairdresser said.“I’ll getyou some magazines to look at.”
Lara lifted her head.He wore a sympatheticsmile, patting her arm.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
****
An hour later, Lara emerged from the salon,the weight on her shoulders gone.She felt like an entirelydifferent person.She touched the turfs of carefully styled hair onher head.Who knew short hair would make her feel so incrediblylight on her feet?
“Honey, the front door’s on the other side,”came Dan, the hairdresser’s, voice from inside.“But you can walkpast that alleyway and be back on the street.”
How could she be so ditzy she’d forget whereshe was going?She could head back inside the salon, but she didn’trelish seeing the pitying looks of the other stylists andcustomers.Lara swore she didn’t blurt out the reason why shewanted short hair to everyone there.
Lara looked around.She found herself in asmall alleyway, the building walls sprayed with crass graffititypical of neighborhoods in this part of the city.Her mother hadtaught her better, to be more aware of her surroundings.
Sighing, she shoved her hands into herpockets and began walking out of the alleyway only to see a black,dinged up Mustang blocking her path.The driver must have decidedhe’d use this space as his personal parking lot.
“Hey,” she shouted, waving at the car.“Canyou back your car out?”
The driver didn’t listen, only came out.Shesquinted at the figure, heart racing as she glimpsed the largestman she’d ever laid eyes on: a titan in a world of men, one whosported a hoodie and a torn pair of jeans.
The hood hid his features, but Lara saw aflash of a wicked and curved scar over one cheek.Eyes black ascoal looked back at her.There was something unnerving about them,and it took her a second to realize why.They lacked any trace ofemotion.
This felt surreal, like Lara had been thrustinto one of those horrible horror survival shows.
Danger bells rang in her head.She shovedone hand into her purse and curled her fingers over the pepperspray.Her mother taught her to bring one with her always, too,since they’d moved into a rougher neighborhood after her dad leftthem.
She looked back at the end of the alleyway.Dead end.The salon.She could run back there.
