Page 10 of When I Found You

Jess and Anita carry the bags into the bedroom as I head back to the kitchen. Well, the new year is off to a promising start. I’ve accosted, kidnapped, and possibly killed a stranger. Fantastic.

Even better, my best friend and my sister are witnesses to my failure. Fucking perfect. What else could possibly go wrong?

In the kitchen, my wine has evaporated leaving burned onions sticking to the bottom of the pot. I rinse it out and start over. Maybe I should order food from Lorenzo’s and drown my misery in a bottle of chianti.

The scream from the bedroom makes my heart stop.

Chapter Five

Katherine

The shower in this place can fit three people, at least. I lean against the tan tiles and let the water run through my hair, sluicing over the sore lump my generous host gave me earlier. It wasn’t his fault, honestly, if it happened the way he says it did. Damn it. I wanted to ask him about it when he came back, but the scowl on his face drove all thoughts of conversation from my mind.

While my head ached, the pain seems to have dimmed enough to tolerate being on my feet. I pray I don’t pass out while I’m in the shower. The thought of not showering crossed my mind, but one look in the mirror confirmed the truth. I’m a hot mess. Dried blood caked against my scalp, blotchy skin, and dark circles highlight my eyes. Before I could stop myself, I was naked and in the shower.

I use some of the soap and lather a washcloth. The subtle hint of lemon zest reminds me of the soap Nanna used to have at her house. My hair will be a beast to untangle without the proper shampoo and conditioner. I use whatever’s in the shower knowing I’ll smell like him. But the thought isn’t a complete turn off.

The thought of my unwilling host even smiling is almost comical. He looked every inch the disapproving dad. Hah. Dad. Daddy. He certainly is daddy as fuck which seems super creepy considering the fact I haven’t even been born yet.

I chuckle and slip on the tile. My heart lurches and I brace myself against the glass door until my body is in complete control once more. Shit. I need to pay attention or I’ll die naked in a stranger’s shower. What a thought.

Carefully, I finish rinsing my hair and toss it over my shoulder.

“Don’t use his shampoo. Damn. We’ll never get those curls sorted.”

I spin around and slip again, this time falling on my bare ass. There’s a hazy figure of a woman on the other side of the glass.

“Christ, I didn’t mean to scare you. I knew that bastard didn’t tell you.” She mutters the last sentence under her breath, but I can hear her clearly.

I cross my arms over my naked breasts and cross my legs for all the good it does at hiding my childbearing hips.

“Oh honey, don’t be modest. I’ve seen more naked women than Hugh Heffner.” She slides open the door and I catch a glimpse of crimped hair and a neon headband as she sets some bottles on the rack inside the shower. “Try these. There’s a leave in conditioner that’s amazing.” The door slides shut, but she doesn’t leave.

“Uh...” I slowly climb to my feet and read the bottles provided. “Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry, sugar. I’m Marcy.” She snaps her gum.

“Why are you here?” The moment the shampoo touches my hair it thanks me by allowing my fingers to comb through the stubborn curls.

“Cause I’m the best.” She giggles to herself. “And I’m the only one Arthur calls when he’s in freak out mode.” She huffs. “Well, the only woman.”

I rinse the soap out of my hair and listen with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Marcy sighs. “I’ll let you finish up. We’ll talk once you’re out of the shower.” She moves toward the door. “Don’t take too long.”

While I’m thankful for the salon quality supplies, I still don’t know who she is or why the hell Arthur called her. I finish my shower and wrap my head with a towel before bundling up with a second one. My head aches with the weight of the fabric and my ass hurts. I’ll definitely have a bruise there tomorrow. Damn. My ego and my ass. Awesome.

In the bedroom, I stop at the sight of three women, two lounging on the edge of the bed chatting and the third drawing the blinds across the windows. They all turn toward me.

“Awesome,” Marcy says, rising to her feet. She’s tall and willowy with dark hair and sparkling eyes. Her polka dot neon green shirt drapes over her shoulders and nips at her waist beneath a wide black belt.

It’s like a bad dream where I’m trapped naked in an eighties music video with a bunch of strangers. I pull the towel tighter around my chest.

“Anita. Grab the kit. We’ll give her some beauty essentials.” Marcy snaps her fingers like she forgot something. Finally, she grins. “Jess, let’s try a few of the pieces you picked. Not feeling the glam vibe, but I think she’s got the bod for the rock look.”

“What are you doing?” I protest when Marcy hooks her arm through mine, dislodging my towel.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re professionals.” This time I see the lime green shadow and flecks of gold glitter at the corners of her eyes.

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