Page 63 of Lash

"Anything."

"I want you to cut my hair."

She blinks. "What? C-cut your hair?"

"The last of Lash must vanish," I say. "I vowed to not cut my hair or beard until I had killed Roberto Pugli. But I have released that vow. I turned over my evidence against him to an investigator in Germany who has an iron-clad case against him. My evidence will only add to the burden of proof weighed against Pugli and he will be brought to justice for his crimes, not just against me, but many, many others." I rake my hand through my hair, and then through my beard. "So now, I cut my hair and trim my beard."

She touches my jawline. "So you won't completely shave?"

I laugh. "My god, no. I haven't fully shaved since I was old enough to grow a beard. I will still have a beard, just not this wizard thing," I say, flipping the end.

She laughs. “Okay, okay." The laughter fades. "But, Nicolae, I am not a barber."

I shrug. "That does not matter. Back in Las Vegas, my brother Rev’s woman cuts hair for the others. Apparently, she used to do that for her father and brothers and now the other men have her cut their hair. So you will just cut off the length for now and Myka will fix it when we return to the States, if necessary.” I search her face, her thoughtful expression. “Are you changing your mind about moving to the States with me?"

She shakes her head. "No!" She smiles, shaking her head again. "No. Not at all. I just…I realized I don't know much about your life there."

"Well, we, the Broken Arrows, provide security for a secretive, exclusive nightclub called Club Sin. It is…well, it is a rather wild place full of debauchery and mayhem. Our job is to keep everyone safe and make sure that everything happens with the fully informed and sober consent of all parties. We work there, and we live in what amounts to an underground bunker beneath the club. It doesn’t feel like a bunker, however. It just feels like…well, somewhat like a university dormitory, perhaps.We work nights and have days to ourselves. Until recently, we never left the club because we all had enemies who would kill us if we did. But now those enemies are sorted out and things are changing. I think all of us will continue living under the club for a while yet, though. None of us will give up that camaraderie."

"But I will be able to come and go? To operate my business?"

I smile at her. "Of course, my love. You are not swearing an oath to anything or anyone. You are simply choosing to live with me."

“And there are others? Other women?"

I nod. "Oh yes. Several. Rev has Myka, Kane has Anjalee, Chance has Annika, Silas recently returned from Boston with his lovely Naomi, his brother Saxon at nearly the same time with Terra, and now Solomon has Scarlett."

"And you have me."

I nuzzle her cheek. "Just so."

She trails her fingers through my beard. "Well, as long as you fully understand that I have absolutely zero training or experience in cutting hair and that I am not responsible if you end up looking like shit, then let's do this."

"You will do fine," I reassure her. “We will leave enough length for Myka to work with. But, just to say, Ileana used to cut my hair, and I know what to do, I just cannot do it myself."

She shrugs, laughing. "You are crazy, asking me to do this. But okay, Nico. As you wish."

“It is not so hard, I promise. It will not be complicated."

And so we leave the bed. I put on underwear and she opts for only my T-shirt, which doesn't quite cover the lower swell of her tight, plump, beautiful ass. I carry a chair from the desk into the bathroom while Tatiana unboxes the kit and plugs in the clippers.

I face the mirror, letting out a quick sigh. "First the beard. Cut it an inch or so below my chin with the scissors."

"You are nervous," Tatiana points out.

I shrug, nod. "A little. It is a big change. It represents turning over a new page in the book of my life."

"You don't want to wait? Have your friend Myka cut it properly?"

I shake my head. "No, no. I want you to do it." I grip my beard in my fist and pinch between my index and middle finger below my chin. "Cut between my hands.

She brings the scissors closer and then hesitates. "Are you sure?"

I laugh. "Yes, Tati. I am sure."

She sucks in a breath, holds it, and then cuts through my beard.

My hand comes away clutching six inches of beard. I hold it up. " There, you see? Not so hard."