Page 25 of Property of Kevlar

The what? Who? Kevlar took far too long to realize she referred to the ragtag family of idiots running around Oklahoma playing mafia. They had illegal casinos and a few strip clubs. Harper, his older sister, was fucking one of them.

“Why?” He was pretty sure he knew, but he wanted her to spell it out for him.

As much as Kevlar wished to lay the blame at the Dixie Mafia’s feet for his father’s death and the demise of their club, it wasn’t because of them. They may have been the ones who burned the building down, but ultimately, they weren’t at fault. His own club brothers had turned on him and his family. They destroyed everything. It was the Dixie Mafia who protected his sister, Harper.

She gave him a look of exasperation. “You’re in their territory. I’m pretty sure two syndicates can’t exist in the same space.”

13

Kelsey

Stepping back, Kelsey cocked her head to the side and studied the shade of eyeshadow she had chosen. The slight shimmer worked perfectly with her client’s eye shape, and the color made the bride-to-be’s eyes pop. It would photograph beautifully.

“How do you feel about wings?” she asked. “And false lashes?”

“I could never figure out how to do either,” the woman in her chair admitted with a nervous giggle.

“That’s why you hire an artist for your big day.” Kelsey winked. “If you’re not opposed, I think they would really complete the look. I don’t have any lashes now, but let me put the eyeliner on.”

Coming closer and stooping slightly, she brought the liquid pen up, and with a steady, talented hand, she added eyeliner with a flick at the corner of her eyes. After double-checking that they matched, she got the mascara and did her final touch up.

“There,” Kelsey announced and moved to her client’s side.

The woman leaned forward in her chair and examined herself in the mirror. Kelsey rounded the chair and stood behind it. The bride-to-be turned her face this way and that, examining the job Kelsey had done. In her opinion, she nailed the elegant aesthetic requested.

“I could never do this by myself,” her client said. “It’s amazing how good I look.”

Kelsey grinned. “You were fabulous when you arrived. All I did was enhance your natural beauty.”

She loved how makeup could transform someone’s confidence. This woman was gorgeous in her skin, but with a few strokes of Kelsey’s brushes and a carefully chosen color palette, she was runway ready.

“Wait until your fiancé sees,” Kelsey said.

Her client beamed with a smile from ear to ear. She was radiant. If satisfaction were an expression, this woman wore it.

“Do you have plans tonight?” Kelsey asked as she fiddled with an eyelash curler.

The bride-to-be nodded. “We’re going out with his parents to sample the restaurant they picked for the rehearsal dinner.”

Briefly, they chatted about the establishment. Kelsey had never been but made a note to try it out one day. Friends of hers had raved about the brunch there.

After settling the booking and establishing the woman was happy with Kelsey’s work, they confirmed the wedding date, and Kelsey blocked off her day. Working at the salon was all well and good. It allowed her to hustle and source people seeking special-occasion makeup. Through these connections, she’d gotten into the theater scene.

Devin, a hair stylist who had since left for greener pastures, was big in the local playhouse, and he hooked her up with his troupe. She did the makeup for the local actors.

Kelsey wasn’t making bank, but she was comfortable. Busy with a full-time gig and two side hustles, she made enough to pay her bills and had started building her nest egg a while ago. She wasn’t struggling, and that was all that mattered to her.

Checking the book, she noted that her next appointment wasn’t due for another half hour. Which meant she had enough time to run to the coffee shop. Stopping by her co-workers’ stations, she took orders, collected money, and headed out the door.

Right into a wall of leather-clad flesh that smelled like skunky weed and bad decisions.

After literally bouncing off him, she stumbled backward and peered up into Pete’s dickhead face. Her day was officially ruined.

He smiled and waved. “Hey.”

Her pulse hammered, and anger boiled in her veins. What the fuck was he doing there? Kelsey had assumed running from him and going home with a completely different dude the night before sent the message that she wasn’t interested.

Shaking her head, she refused to return his greeting. Stepping aside, she made to move past him and continue to the shop at the end of the strip mall. She had coffee to get and had no desire to deal with him.