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Biggest fucking mistake of my life.
Since the ‘incident’, I’d skipped from job to job, and it was a while before I finally found this place and Drew. Strange these were the only constants in my life—my job and Drew. The only two things that had kept me going. The only two things that had stopped me from filling myself with pills and drugs until I no longer cared.
I led Detective Palmer over to the chair and, when he sat, draped the cape around his shoulders. My eyes met his in the mirror. They held a kindness I remembered.
I raked my fingers through his soft curls; long enough to touch the collar of his shirt. I was loathed to cut them, but it would be his choice.
“So, what am I doing for you today?” I dropped my hands to my side. “Please don’t say you want it all shaved off.”
His cheeks reddened, and he shook his head. “Just a trim. Maybe tidy it up a bit at the neck.” He fingered the curls I’d been admiring. “Get rid of the curls. I look like a girl.”
He looked nothing like a girl with his strong, masculine jawline and five o’clock shadow. When had he last shaved?
It was still early, barely ten in the morning.
“I’m happy to cut some of them, but not all. I actually like them.” I reached around him and grabbed my scissors and comb. “Let me take a little off, and then you can decide if you want more. How does that sound?”
He nodded, and I got to work, wetting his hair first.
I could tell he wanted to talk, but he seemed shy, glancing away each time he caught my eye.
“How’s work been? Still working with that other guy? Woods, was it?” Of course I remembered his partner’s name. You didn’t go through something like I had and forget the names of the key players. At Ziggy’s insistence, I’d agreed to talk to them and tell them my story.
“Yeah, I'm still working with Woods. He’s one of the good ones and a brilliant detective too.”
“That’s great. Are you straight to work after this?”
“Nah. Just finished a night shift. I’m on my way home to get some kip. It was a busy one last night. I need to sleep.”
“Ah. Will there be a Mrs Palmer waiting at home for you with a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich?” I asked.
He snorted, and my scissors slipped, grazing the back of his neck.
“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.” A bead of blood appeared. I swiped at it with my finger, but another took its place.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t even feel it.” The fact that he’d mentioned it suggested he had.
I found a tissue and dabbed at his skin, the blood blossoming on the paper.
“I can’t believe I did that. I’m usually so careful.” My hands shook, something that rarely happened, but he made me all kinds of nervous.
“Hey, Liam. It’s really fine.” Kind blue eyes stared at me in the mirror, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’ll finish up, then get you a sticking plaster. It’s only a little nick, but you don’t want it getting infected.”
He smiled and nodded. Time to pull myself together. Small things had a habit of throwing me off my game, but Detective Palmer was no small thing. He was a huge part of my past.
“I can’t keep calling you Detective Palmer. What’s your first name? We don’t have to be so formal now, do we?”
“It’s John. Just call me John.”
I continued to cut, tidying his hair up without removing too many of those lovely curls.
“How have you been?” His voice was filled with concern. “It can’t have been easy for you. We followed up with Ziggy but lost track of you.”
I’d moved away for a while and taken a few weeks to recover. I’d changed my number and never looked back. If only I could say I’d healed, that removing all this from my life had helped, but it had done jack shit, just delayed my inevitable breakdown. A breakdown so epic I’d decided the world was a better place without me.
Not wishing to admit my failure, I did what I usually did and lied.
