Hunting Sawyer

Tessa

I followed her hesitantly, tip toeing through the salon and waiting for her to change her mind. It was older construction, everything here well-used and well-loved. But she had clearly made the most of it. Everything sparkled clean and was decorated with a simple and feminine flair.

She motioned to a side door. “Shower first. Use the soaps in the teal bottles. They have the strongest fragrance. These guys track on scent. You need to cover your natural smell.” I scrunched up my face in confusion again, she rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “Just toss the used towels in the bin and bring the bin out with you so I can wash them right away. ”

I did as she instructed, not daring to cross her. I scrubbed the filth off me, knowing I’d been using the same measly sliver remains of a bar of soap for my skin and hair for the last two cold showers I had managed in the grimy bathroom in the back of the bar.

The way the shampoo lathered in my hair felt so energizing as if all the grime and grief was washing away. And when I smoothed the conditioner over my locks, my eyes rolled back at the magic of the silkiness. I’m not sure why this woman had decided to help me, but for the shower alone, I’d kiss her square on the mouth.

She'd left a simple black tshirt dress with a sports bra, spandex shorts, and a pair of socks on the sink with a small bottle of perfume. I chewed my lip, not quite knowing how to accept such generosity. I could feel tears prick at my eyes as the conflicting emotions were bumping around in my head. I was worried for Joe. I was scared for my son. But I was so surprised at this woman's kindness.

When I emerged from the bathroom, fresh and flowery, she was finishing a woman’s eyebrows. Before her customer noticed, I caught her attention and she nodded for me to retreat to the back. I slinked away silently, carrying the bin back as she asked.

Instead of sitting there with my thumb up my ass, I started a load of laundry, tidied her little break space, and emptied the trash. I was rolling clean towels out of the dryer, like I’d seen them near the rinse sink and neatly stacked in the bathroom, when she came to retrieve me from the back.

She took a look around the room, taking in the work I’d done.

“Well, I can see why Joe likes you so much. You make quick work of things.” I smiled lightly. I liked to work.

“I don’t sit still well.” She chuckled at my comment. “Thank you, for the shower and for the clothes. I apologize for barging into your salon. I appreciate your kindness.”

“You can’t go back to Joe’s.” Hearing those words were like a fifty-pound weight sinking in my gut. I knew that was true, but hearing it out loud was a totally different story.

“I know.” Was all I could muster. Where a weaker Sawyer would have let that break me, where the tears would have flown freely, I had a different agenda now. One that meant I would lose everything for my son.

“Come on, let’s get started.” She turned over her shoulder and motioned for me to follow.

Once again, my confusion was getting the better of me. “I’m sorry, started on what exactly?”

“Well,” she replied “If you’re going to work here, and you need to be disguised. You gotta look the part, Sweetheart.” With that she pointed to a pile of clothes on the side table. “Take those. The dress is a smidge too short." She winked.

I stood, dumbfounded, for a second before inching toward the clothes. This offer was a blessing, and I couldn’t afford to f**k this up. I thought of how the only belongings I currently had were in the busted backpack or the clothes from my back currently spinning in the washing machine. Someone up above was looking out for me and I couldn’t take this for granted.

I stripped right there in the back room. I pulled on the clean underwear, a pair of form fitting black jeans that hugged a little tighter than I found comfortable. But they fit over the baby bump that was already forming. Next was a black lacy bralette with a cropped black tank top. It was again a little more snug than I would have liked, but the salon owner was a little more petite than I was. And my boobs were definitely filling out with the pregnancy. At the bottom of the stack was a pair of simple black flats and an apron with the salon’s logo. I slipped it over my neck and tied it around my waist as I emerged from the back room.

She motioned for me to sit in the nearest chair and she got to work. I studied the way she worked, wanting to learn as much as I could. My mother used to do my hair, trimming it when needed. I’d never been to an actual salon before.

“You lucky b***h. This hair is completely natural. And it dries this way? Women pay hundreds of dollars and hours of their life trying to achieve this. You know that right?” I giggled, almost stunned at the sound coming out of me. When was the last time I genuinely laughed?

“I’m Tessa by the way.” She smiled down at me as she ran her hands through my long honey brown hair, combing through the waves with her fingertips before spreading some product through it. I smiled in return, wondering where this new friendship would lead me.

Praying it would mean another stint of safety for my son. But the voice of logic in the back of my head said safety was only a dream I would be chasing until Blake was no longer a threat. And I had no idea how to achieve that.