Page 39 of Shadow’s Protection (Hurricane Heat MC #1)

I look down at her hand skeptically, not sure if she’s part of the problem or trying to help. I give her hand a quick shake, but I don’t give her my name. She gives me an apologetic smile, and I notice tired-looking purple shadows under her eyes.

“Your wife—” she starts.

“ Ex -wife,” I correct.

She licks her lips and nods. “Ex-wife. Well, Shayla is new to the salon. She came in for services today with your girls and left without paying. I tried charging the card we put on file when she booked the appointment, but it was declined. I don’t have any way of charging her for the services she got for herself and the girls today. ”

I must look confused because Holly stands up. “Dad, Mom left us here after her hair was done.” She holds out her phone to me, and I read the group text she sent to both girls.

We’re not paying that bill, so I want you to get the hell outta there and take an Uber home when you’re done. I’ll meet you there. Be chill about it. I don’t need her calling the cops on us like that last place .

I nearly crush Holly’s phone in my shaking hands, but I know how expensive the damn thing was. I bought it for her three months ago for her fifteenth birthday.

“Your mother tried to bail on the bill?” I look from Holly to Daisy. “She pulled that shit before?”

That’s when the floodgates open. Daisy is in full meltdown.

“Dad, yes, but it wasn’t our fault. We didn’t know.

The owner of the last place called the cops on us and said if we didn’t stay until Mom came back and paid, she’d press charges against all of us, including Holly and me.

This wasn’t our idea, Dad. We swear we didn’t know. ”

Holly is deathly quiet, and when I look at her, she’s too pale.

“Dad, I tried to make sure she wasn’t planning anything like that again.

I asked her if she had the money this morning.

But you know what she’s like.” Holly looks down at her feet and laces her fingers together so tightly, a knot even tighter forms in my gut.

Daisy points to the salon lady, still talking through tears. “Poppy has been so nice to us, Dad. She didn’t threaten to call the cops. She didn’t yell. She even bought us food because we’ve been here all day, and we were starving.”

My kids, whom I pay everything for—child support and then some—were starving and had been dragged into some bullshit haircut scam?

“How much is the bill?” I ask, keeping my voice as calm as I can until I have all the facts.

“Let me get the total.” Poppy gets up from her seat and walks to the back of the salon, where I see a counter and a mounted tablet that doubles as a mini cash register.

Goddamn it.

This is the worst time to notice, but this woman is fucking gorgeous, and Shayla is proof that I don’t have the best track record of finding the good ones.

As I watch her walk across the salon like she’s strutting on a private runway, I can’t stop my mind from imagining those long legs wrapped around my neck, all that hair sweaty and tossed across my pillows.

I tug on my beard and try to ignore the way my fingers itch to cup her full ass. She’s tall, stacked, thick, and… Fuck .

I turn away from scoping out this woman and lower my voice to talk to the kids. “You’re really all right? Other than being hungry and your mom running out on the bill, you’re safe?”

Now that I’m with my girls and I know I’m going to fix whatever’s got them in a panic, my blood pressure is dropping.

It’s damn hard not to stare at Poppy’s perfect ass in dark black jeans and the long waves of hair that almost reach her waist, but if there was ever a perfect distraction from a beautiful woman, it’s my kids.

Holly nods and Daisy sniffles. “Dad, you don’t know how bad she’s gotten. Mom left us here and didn’t care what happened. What if Poppy had called the cops? That last lady wanted to have us arrested, Dad. We’re just kids. What would have happened to us?”

At my daughter’s fear and pain, my vision goes dark with rage again.

I’ve been locked up. Arrested. Searched and booked.

Abused and neglected. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, on this green earth that I wouldn’t do to protect my kids so they never know that kind of shame and powerlessness.

I’m strong mentally and even more so physically, and God knows I’ve made a lot of bad choices—still do.

Part of playing the game is paying the price, and I’ve paid dearly.

But this… Shayla setting up my daughters like this… Not once, but twice.

“When did this happen before?” I bark. I need to know. Not because it matters right now, but it matters in the long run to my plan. “Forget it. You can tell me later. Did your ma pay that other place?”

“She did, but that was the worst part,” Holly says, her cheeks still looking too pale. “She had the money, Dad. She was just… I don’t know. Trying to get away with something.”

The dull echo of Poppy’s heels on the floor pulls my attention back to her.

My body ricochets from rage to lust as she offers me a device, her soft hand touching mine as she hands the tablet over.

I grit my teeth and will myself not to act like a horny teenager, and I look down at the itemized bill.

The total has so many zeros in it, I about shit myself.

“This is for haircuts?” I sputter. I’m not excusing Shayla’s shit, but maybe she was the one getting scammed.

Poppy nods, the long curls of her hair bouncing.

“Shayla had a full-head highlight, cut, and style. That service can start at three hundred for a senior stylist, and there is a slightly higher charge for long hair.” She looks me over like she’s trying to figure out if I’m going to fight her. “Then the girls…”

I do the math in my head, and I guess it all adds up. I’ve been getting haircuts for as long as I can remember from the bitches who hang out at the compound.

After prison, anybody with a gentle touch and a willingness to do the job was my only qualification. It must cost a pretty penny to keep these plants alive and lush couches looking so clean.

“Dad, these are totally normal prices. The other place was even more.” Holly’s at my elbow now. “And we really should tip.”

Tip? Sweet baby Jesus, no wonder the women at the club are all too happy to drink our free beer and eat our food. They must be broke on haircuts. I know what I’ve been paying for the girls’ essentials, but this shit?

I drew the line this past summer on fake nails because that’s a money pit I’m not ready to fall into for kids too young to hold down their own jobs. I’m going to have to work a lot more gigs like the one we had today if my plan to have them full time is going to work.

I blow out a long breath and hand the tablet back to Poppy. Her face shadows like she expects me to bail on the bill, but I reach into my back pocket and peel off a wad of hundreds—enough to cover the bill and food.

“Here.” I am about to hand her the money when I turn to Holly. “How much do I tip?”

She grins and stands beside me, lacing her too-thin arm around my waist. “Dad, she took really good care of us before all this. The food, letting us call you. At least what you’d tip in a restaurant. If you pay on the tablet, you can pick a percentage if that’s easier.”

It’s not easier. I don’t leave a digital trail until I absolutely have to. I peel off two more hundreds and hold them out to Poppy.

“No, really, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that,” she says, holding her hands up in front of her. “I’m grateful you were willing to take care of the bill. It’s not just the materials, it’s the time.”

I shake my head, not needing to hear the details, and hold out the cash until she takes it. “You took care of my girls when their own damn mother couldn’t be trusted to.” I pull out my phone. “Is this your number? You let them use your personal phone?”

She nods.

“You keep my number in your phone. You see my girls on the schedule again, you call me.” I sigh. “I’ll cover it. No questions asked.”

I turn to the kids. “What are we going to tell your mother?”

Holly’s face drains of the little color that’s left, and Daisy puts her hands on her hips.

“I don’t want to go home to her right now.

I mean, she literally drove off like no one would dare to arrest two kids alone.

What if they did?” Her brave anger starts to crumple, though, and she looks like she’s going to cry again.

“Don’t make us go, Dad,” she whimpers. “Can we stay with you tonight, please?”

I open my arms, and both girls slam against my chest. I kiss the tops of their heads and notice for the first time how beautiful their hair looks. I stroke a big blue curl that falls along the side of Daisy’s face.

“You got that here?” I ask her.

She beams up at me and nods. “So much better than the at-home dye Mom lets me use.”

I look past my daughters’ heads and catch Poppy staring at us.

“You did good work. If anything could make my girls more beautiful, it’s this.

” I kiss the kids again. “This is what we’re going to do.

I’m going to message your mom that you told me you were getting your hair done, so I stopped by to see it.

I won’t say anything about the bill. I’ll just tell her you asked to come crash with me for the night. ”

I don’t say that this will, no doubt, start World War whatever we’re up to now.

Every communication with Shayla is like an act of aggression, but there’s no way I’m sending the kids back to her tonight.

She drew first blood by abandoning them in the middle of a fucking scam.

I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to the bitch.

“Girls, thank Poppy for taking good care of you. I rode up here on my bike, so Shadow’s going to come meet us with a pickup.”

The kids start to gather up their dirty plates and cups, but Poppy shoos them away. “It’s okay,” she tells them. “I have to clean the salon anyway.”