Shannon's Fairy-Tale Foursome by Mia Ashlinn Page B

or something.”
    Katie-Anne’s eyes softened, the pity shining in her turquoise eyes. Shannon wanted to scream. If there was one thing she would die before accepting, it was pity.
    “Shannon, if you keep this up, you’re going to end up losing more than your men. Do you want that?”
    In all honesty, Shannon couldn’t figure out what she wanted. And it wasn’t the only thing she didn’t know. Who am I? What do I want? Where am I going?
    She had no idea. Hell, she couldn’t even figure out how to find out. Her screwed up life didn’t have a fix-it button, and she couldn’t find an escape. She specialized in existing without living.
    She shook her muddled head. Why was she even thinking about these things all of a sudden? Why waste brain cells on something that she wouldn’t change. Would I?
    The shaking resumed. “Hello?”
    “Katie-Anne, why are you shaking Shannon? She’s not a freaking martini.”
    Jaycee’s humor wasn’t welcome for her or Katie-Anne. The tumultuous moment stretched out with silence. Finally, a Russian-accented voice piped up, “What you girls do this day?”
    Jaycee spoke first. “Oh! We are giving Shannon a makeover.”
    Svetlana openly studied Shannon who wouldn’t meet her eyes, not even once. “You need makeover of soul. You get soon. No worry.”
    A pin dropping on the floor could have been heard in the midst of the stormy silence.
    Forcing a tranquil smile, Shannon replied, “I’m not worried, Svetlana. Thanks for caring, though. It means a lot.”
    “You lie.”
    A round of gasps from every woman in the room permeated the salon.
    “You worry every day, but you changing. I know truth.” Svetlana tapped her temple with her finger. “You move on. They want you to.”
    Shannon knew that Svetlana spoke of her parents, not Jared, Drew, or Randy. The woman saw too much, damn it. “I don’t know who you are talking about.”
    “Yes. You do,” Svetlana said adamantly.
    Shannon wanted to deny her, but a noisy racket distracted everyone. Then a tiny, wavering voice spoke up. “Oops. I’m sorry.”
    Three words from Melissa Davis’s five year-old daughter did what no other person in the room could do. Holly speared through the tension in the room like a spike into the middle of a frozen lake, cracking open a hole and drenching everyone in sight with arctic waters that could freeze a person to the center of their souls. The spell had been broken, and life returned to normal.
     
    * * * *
     
    Across the street from Sassy Salon and Spa, an inconspicuous man sat quietly in a nondescript car he’d borrowed from his daughter. The muted-colored sedan helped him maintain a low profile, and he easily blended into the Kansas scenery.
    Hiding behind the Serenity Gazette, he kept a close eye on the group of town whores through the giant display window. The blinding sun made it difficult for him to see them through the glass, but he managed quite well with the polarized sunglasses he’d purchased for times like this one.
    All of the women appeared tense and edgy to him, but he couldn’t tell why without moving closer, and he wasn’t willing to risk exposure to find out something that insignificant. Besides, he didn’t care about any of them. He only cared about her . And, right now, he was furious that she had decided to alter her appearance. He’d preferred the clothes that hid her body, the makeup-less face, the wire-rimmed glasses, and the unkempt hair. He didn’t like her drawing attention to herself nor did he appreciate anyone having an opportunity to look at his personal property. Bitch.
    The thirst to punish her for her highly inappropriate actions crashed into him, and he wanted nothing more than to charge across the street and into the salon, drag her out by the hair on her head, and then show her a thing or two about being his possession. But he held himself back. It wouldn’t do for him to follow what his instincts demanded—yet. Soon, though, things would change. Soon