Page 90 of Ready Or Not

Rachel sighs, running her fingers gently through the braids to unravel them. “Where are your scissors, Manson?”

I glance up at her. They’re all locked away. Outside. I mutter that and go get them. When I come back, Riley is glaring at the wall, and Rachel is trying to ask her questions.

“Pixie? Bob? Full shave? Talk to me.”

“You can’t just control everything I do.”

I get ready to lay into her, but before I can, Rachel opens her mouth. “If you’d stop being a fucking child, you’d see he’s doing this for your own good.”

I freeze, but Rachel’s not done. “In this particular moment, Manson’s just trying to protect you. So why don’t you just accept it and tell me what style you want your hair to be?”

I stare at Rachel. She’s all frowns and pursed lips, with her hand on her hip while she glares at Riley. She’s...agreeing with me? I know I’m right, but I’ve spent years with someone who fights me at every turn.

So this? This is different.

“Nothing? Cool, I’ll do what I think looks best.” Rachel holds out her hand to me, and the tension in my chest loosens. “Scissors.”

For a half second, I pause. I’m giving a blade to the woman who, a few days ago, would have done anything to kill us.

Rachel gestures impatiently, then meets my gaze. She seems to realize what I’m thinking because her face softens. “Just a haircut.”

“Just a haircut.”

I hand her the scissors, then sit on Riley’s legs again. She glares up at me, and I tilt her head back, resting my hand onher neck. I smile down at her. “You’re gonna look hot with short hair.”

She curls her lip at me but doesn’t fight my hold. I trace my thumb up and down her neck, watching as Rachel preps the scissors to make that first cut. I tense, just as Riley does under me.

With a snip, the first cut is done. Rachel works seamlessly from there, cutting, snipping, and giving silent orders to tilt her head one way or another. Which I do, even though Riley isn’t fighting anymore.

I move my thumb up and down her neck, deciding Riley needs a neck tattoo. I want it to be my bite mark.

“Do you have any hair stuff?” Rachel asks me.

I shake my head.

“I’m thinking bleach blonde. Anything to make her look as different as we can.”

Riley opens her mouth, but I glare down at her. “As different as possible, got it.”

Riley arches a brow but says nothing.

“I don’t have any of that box dye.”

“Then you’ll have to go get it.” Rachel snips and cuts, taking Riley’s hair from elbow length to a long pixie cut. I like it. It suits her face well.

I don’t want to go. Not right after this. I don’t want to leave them alone.

“Or I can get it.” Rachel shrugs. “Doubt that’s the better option for you.”

I snort. I may trust her when I’m here, but definitely not alone. She could lead the cops right back here. I have a lot of them in my pocket, but not all of them.

“Fine.” I stand. “It won’t be long. Don’t get any ideas.”

Riley groans. “Yes, Dad.”

“I don’t want to hear another word from you.” I uncuff her and haul her up.

“Another word?” She smiles sweetly.