Page 13 of Destroyed (American Street Kings 4)

She lifted a brow. “That’s not important. Now,” she shook the box, “you’re going to sit your ass down, and we are coloring your hair. Today.”

I narrowed my eyes and swallowed hard. “What color?”

“Well, at first, I thought blue.”My blue-haired Pixie. “But then I thought, new life, new beginnings. New color.” She smiled one of her warm smiles that always seemed to chisel away at a layer of ice around my heart. “So, I thought violet.”

“Violet?” I frowned. “That’s just a pretty word for purple.”

She chuckled. “Well, it’s either violet or pink.”

“Jesus, not pink.”

“Violet it is, then.”

A few seconds passed as I just stared at her, a part of me unsure if I wanted to go down this road—a road that led to the old me. The old Neon with colored hair and too much eyeliner. The Neon whose only wound consisted of drug addiction and daddy issues. God, all the things I allowed to darken my soul seemed so trivial compared to the real demons I was forced to face now.

“Come on, Neon,” Alyx urged, her expression soft and eyes kind. “It’s time.”

I sighed. “Fine. But on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I never have to eat one of your goddamn pancakes again.”

Alyx tossed the shirt at my face. “Shut up. You love my pancakes.”

“No. I don’t. The only reason I tolerate your pancakes is that it seems to put some meat on your bony ass.”

“Well, the guys love my pancakes.”

“The guys can’t taste the difference between steak and ass.”

“Shut up. Now sit your ass down before I change my mind about the purple and pull out the pink dye.”

I balked. “You bought pink too?”

She lifted a brow and pursed her lips like a bitch. “Try me and find out.”

I frowned, narrowing my eyes. “I think I prefer the underweight Alyx with no backbone.”

She laughed, and I couldn’t help smiling myself. I’d be a fool not to admit that without Alyx, I’d be a sulking mess. She refused to let me give up, and with Ink constantly hovering around me like a virus, there was no chance of me ever giving in to the darkness that threatened to swallow me whole.

Sitting down, I could feel the anxiety filling my lungs, the air I breathed getting caught in my throat. It was unbelievable how something as simple as getting my hair colored could open the door for a threatening panic attack.

Alyx pulled on the pair plastic gloves, placed a towel over my shoulders, and started combing my hair. “How long have we known each other?”

I shrugged. “A year? Fuck, I dunno. Why?”

“It just feels like I know you, but I don’t know you…you know?”

“Um…no,” I scrunched my nose, “I don’t think I know.”

“I mean, about your past. Your life before the Kings.”

I shifted a little. “There’s really not much to know.”

“Stop.” She slapped the comb on my shoulder. “Everyone had a life before the Kings, right? Tell me about yours. I wanna know.”

“You’re nosy.”

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