Page 16 of Safe
As she removed my cap, my hair tumbled down around my shoulders, more unruly than usual—a mess of curls and frizz from being confined under the hat.
"Oh, my! Your hair is so long and beautiful! Are you sure you want to cut it?"
No.
"Yes. It's time for a change. I don't know what I want, though. Just surprise me."
As she draped the cape around my neck and began brushing out my hair, each snip of the scissors released more than just length. I hadn't realized how heavy my hair had become, both physically and metaphorically. As it fell to the floor, I felt lighter, freer. What started as Alex's attempt to disguise me was transforming into something more significant. A rebirth of sorts. It was time to let go of the old Danielle and all the things Landon had done to her.
I watched my reflection without a word as the hairdresser’s fingers flew through my hair. She tried making small talk, but I was distracted enough that my answers came out short.
From the corner of my eye, I caught movement in the mirror—subtle, but there.
He was watching me. Not in a casual, spaced-out kind of way. Not in the bored, I’m-only-here-because-I-have-to-be way either. No, this was intentional. Focused. Like he was studying me, or maybe trying to figure me out.
The second my head shifted to look toward him, he snapped his eyes back to the magazine in his lap, suddenly way too fascinated withMen’s Weekly.
Busted.
My stomach flipped, but I ignored it. He was just being nosy. Probably trying to anticipate my next move like the dutiful guard dog he was.
Still, the way he looked at me… it didn’t feel like surveillance. It felt like something else entirely. It was unsettling enough that I shifted in the chair and looked away. If I couldn’t see him, maybe I could forget he was there. Forget that I wasn’t alone.
After the cut, I told her I didn’t want to see it yet. She guided me over to the coloring station, out of Cody's line of sight at last. The distance felt like a small mercy. I gave her the same creative freedom with the color, and her eyes lit up. You could tell she didn’t get that kind of trust often.
I lost track of time as she sectioned and colored my hair. She shared stories about her two kids and her military husband, and I found myself opening up about Alex joining the Army to care for me after our parents' deaths. Her easy conversation and genuine interest started breaking through my walls. She was the first one who managed to get through since I woke up.
By the time she finished drying and styling my hair, it felt like catching up with an old friend rather than meeting a stranger. As I sat there, I realized it wasn't just my appearance that had transformed; for the first time, I was starting to feel human again.
"Ready to show off your new look? You look amazing!" She was overflowing with excitement over what she had created. Despite my initial reluctance to part with my hair, I couldn't deny that the transformation in the mirror was stunning. The stranger staring back at me bore no resemblance to the girl who'd walked in hours ago. My signature long, brown waves had been replaced by sleek, shoulder-length fire-red hair. As I ran my fingers through it, I discovered the hidden platinum blondeunderneath—an unexpected detail that made the style even more striking. It had been at least two years since I felt this good about myself, and it caused a genuine smile to spread across my face.
"I think this is just what I needed to feel better." I pulled her into a heartfelt hug. "Thank you!"
"Anytime, sweetie. Now, let's go show your man!"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Okay, but gross, he's definitely not my man."
8. CODY
I'd been slouched in the world’s most uncomfortable chair in the salon's waiting room for what felt like an eternity. The concept of spending this much time on hair was beyond my comprehension. Another mystery of women I'd never solve. The music in here was dull, like elevator music, and the chatter of women at various stations made it impossible to focus or drift off for a nap.
I didn’t like how exposed this place was.
I’d done four mental scans since we got there—three exits, two cameras I could see. The salon smelled like chemicals and hairspray, and it was the kind of place where people assumed nothing bad could happen.
Danielle was in the back, somewhere behind a pastel curtain, laughing at something her stylist said. The sound calmed me, but only for a second.
I didn’t know where Landon was. That was the problem.
I’d checked the salon's entrance twice already. Every man who walked past the glass storefront made me shift in my seat. I scanned for bulges in jackets, odd pacing, too much eye contact. Maybe it was paranoia, or maybe it was the part of me that had seen too many ambushes because someone let their guard down one second too long.
And Danielle had already caught me staring at her once. It wasn’t even what she thought it was, but I saw the way she looked at me—like she knew everything that was on my mind.
Lady, you have no fucking idea.
Whatever she was thinking was wrong. I resorted to reading whatever I could get my hands on, and after cyclingthrough every magazine twice, I closed my eyes to relax until the stylist emerged from behind the back room's curtain.
"Eh hem." Her throat-clearing startled me awake. "May I present the new and improved, but still beautiful as ever, Stacy?"
