Kidnapped by the Bishop Brothers

Match + Kerosene

Beth {flashback}

I met Terrence first when I was twenty-four. Eight years ago. He lit me aflame. He was a match and I, put simply, was kerosene.

I was a hairdresser in a new salon at the strip-mall. I still work at the same place with all the same girls. I remember that day, however, had been particularly slow. It was cold and windy which might have had something to do with it. It didn't help that it was a Monday.

It was early afternoon and I was left supervising the salon, all my coworkers going out for a long smoke break in the back. I didn't smoke so I stayed inside. I was wiping down my vanity for the dozenth time, mouthing along to the radio station that played overhead. Champagne Supernova by Oasis had been about halfway through.

And then the bell rung and the salon door was opened. That was when my life would forever change. I knew it right then.

I stopped wiping my vanity down and turned to look at the new customer, beaming politely as I prepared myself to greet them. But the moment I met the eyes of the new arrival my smile faltered. We never got people like him here—usually just old ladies looking for perms or teenage girls seeking to chop their hair to fit the in-style.

Instantly my palms went clammy and I tried to recover, offering him another smile that inevitably faltered. I smoothed my ponytail as I approached the main counter. My cheeks were heating. I was so nervous. I was already making a fool of myself—beyond flustered.

I grabbed my apron I had discarded and put it on.

Without meeting his eyes I asked, "what can I do for you today?"

He didn't answer right away and I took it as my cue to go back to my vanity. I placed my hands on the back of the swiveling chair, turning it in his general direction. Only then could I look up at him, as I was about to do my job. I knew I still needed to be, at the bare minimum, professional.

He slipped off his black overcoat, hanging it on the prestige coat-rack by the door. I tried not to appear as awestruck as I was but I couldn't hide it. He was even more impressive beneath the extra layer. Brawny, robust. He began to walk over to my vanity, running his fingers through his hair.

"Just a little off the sides," he said, sitting in the swiveling chair I still held onto. Before I could let go he craned his head to look back at me. His eyes were cheeky with playfulness. "Maybe a little off the top. What do you think?"

I think you could have hair like Rapunzel or no hair at all and still be just as incomprehensibly attractive.

Humming to myself, I grabbed the leopard-print hairdressing cape from the back of the chair. I shook it once before wrapping it around his neck and clipping it in place. I met his russet eyes in the mirror, rubbing my lips together.

We stayed like that, staring at each other for a few moments until I said, "I'll give you a full cut. How much do you want off?"

"However much you think will look good."

I moved my fingers along the back of the chair in a wave-like motion.

"Our definition of good may be different. I don't want you leaving unsatisfied with our service."

"You haven't touched my hair yet and I'm already satisfied with your service," he told me. I rolled my tongue against my cheek, unable to hide how flattered I was that a man like him was flirting with a girl like me. "I promise I won't leave a bad review if you butcher my hair."

"Would you like a quick rinse?" I asked, changing the subject.

"No, that's alright," he said. "Although your fingers massaging my head does seem quite tantalizing."

I couldn't stop my puff of laughter, stepping away from the chair, shaking my head slowly as I grabbed the spray bottle. I stood back in my place, wetting down the mans ebony hair, just as I heard the girls coming in from their smoke break. They were complaining about how cold it was.

The moment they stepped into the salon and saw me they began to giggle. The man in the chair and I waved at them at the same time. They whispered amongst themselves briefly, glancing at us from the sides of their eyes, before they informed me that they were going to the coffee shop across the street and to call one of us if you need anything.

They were aware I was having no luck in the dating department. After a disastrous three year relationship I had been left single for a, equidistantly, three year recovery period—not that I thought the man and I would end up dating and falling in love. I wasn't that optimistic.

I grabbed my comb and electric razor and began doing what I was paid to do. I could feel the mans eyes on me through the mirror and my cheeks burned as I refused to meet them again. Usually I was interactive with my clients, engaging in small talk about uninteresting topics, but with this man I remained silent. I was surprised to find the silence far from uncomfortable.

He eventually asked me, "do your friends throw you to the wolves often?"

I laughed again, tilting my head to the side. His hair was fine against my fingers, silky and smooth. It smelt like peppery shampoo.

"No. That was a first," I said, which was true. He was a first.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "What makes today such an unusual day?"

Fleetingly I directed my eyes to the mirror, meeting his, before casting my gaze down to his hair again. I shrugged.

"They're not used to seeing men they find attractive in here," then added. "It's usually only women we get."

"Interesting," he said mischievously. My cheeks hurt from the constant smiling I was trying to suppress. "Do you find me attractive?"

I ran my teeth over my bottom lip, trying to focus on my job. The more he talked the more distracted I got. I was unable to multi-task around him. Something about him just demanded all of my attention without him overtly needing to ask for it. That enigmatic, charismatic aura.

Still trying to play it cool I said, "I don't think I'm permitted to answer that."

"Am I permitted to tell you that I find you attractive?" He asked, just as mischievous as before. Again I looked up to see him in the mirror and found he had a brow quirked up. I laughed breathlessly, blushing, turning back to his hair. I turned off the electric razor and grabbed the scissors. I didn't want to cut his hair too short. He looked good with a little length.

"If you'd like," I relented.

"Good. Because I do," he admitted shamelessly. "I find you strikingly beautiful."

"Oh, wow," I said before I could stop myself. I was burning up too much to keep playing it cool. "Well, thank you."

"Do you find me strikingly beautiful?" He joked. I barked a sharp laugh, having to stop trimming to avoid messing up his hair.

Giving him an inch, hoping he'd take a mile, I said, "yes."

"You do, do you?" He inquired teasingly. "Well thank you, I'm flattered."

"You're a funny one," I told him lightheartedly.

There was no more conversation as I finished trimming the rest of his hair. I blow-dried and ran some oil through it before removing the cape and throwing it on the chair once he stood out of it. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand as he grabbed his coat. Slowly I walked back over to the counter.

He came up to it, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

"What's the damage?" He asked.

"Twenty-five."

Unflinchingly he pulled out a one-hundred dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to me. I tried to hide my surprise. I could count on one hand how many times someone had pulled out anything above two twenties for a cut and trim. I could tell by his clothing that he was wealthy but it still surprised me how willing he was to blatantly flaunt it. A bold move.

I put the bill in the register and started to collect the change but at this point he was already tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

"No, that's for you," He informed me.

I looked up at him.

"That's too much, I couldn't possibly—"

"No, I insist. Please."

I furrowed my brows, biting my lip.

"I feel like I'm robbing you...sincerely, it's too much. I—"

"Go out to dinner with me tonight," He offered without any hesitation.

I blinked a few times as though trying to communicate in Morse cord, nonplussed. I shook my head again slowly, trying to reorganize my thoughts.

"I—what?"

"I would like to take you out to dinner tonight," he reworded himself. "What time do you finish work?"

I kept blinking. We had hardly held a conversation and now he wanted to take me out to dinner? It seemed like a trick, like he would expect something in return. He had been so generous already. I was equal parts twitterpated and suspicious.

"You don't—" I cleared my throat. "You don't have to."

He chuckled at this and I liked the way his eyes crinkled in the corners. It made him appear as a friendly giant.

"I know I don't have to. But I would like to. That is, only if it's likewise."

"You'd pick me up here?" I carpooled that day because my car was in the shop. Something to do with the alternator. "Then we'd go to dinner right after?"

"Yes."

"I don't even have a change of clothes. I'm not dressed nice," I exhaled air through my nose. "I can't possibly."

"Can't or won't?"

I offered him a reluctant smile.

"You know."

Won't.

"I don't care what you're wearing. I'm not asking you out because of your clothes," I pondered. "I would just like to get to know you."

I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing him, seeing if he would crack under pressure. But he didn't, holding my stare, narrowing his eyes playfully in return. It was like that for a few seconds until I ripped his printed receipt from the machine and handed it to him. As I did his thumb brushed mine. It was enough to send chills up the length of my arm...and enough to make up my mind.

"I get off work at seven."

"Perfect," he said, smiling down at me. He rested his hand on the counter before stepping away from it. "I'll be here."

"Wait," I called out to him just as he was about to leave. He stopped, turning to face me over his shoulder. I rubbed my lips together. "I never caught your name."

He pretended to throw something at me.

"Terrence."

I got the joke, then. He had just tossed his name to me. I pretended to catch it.

"It's nice to meet you, Terrence."

"And you, Beth," He said before turning and leaving.

Jumbled, I wondered how he knew my name but remembered my name-tag was attached to my apron. I smiled as I watched his retreating figure through the display window. There was still six hours until my shift ended. How would I occupy myself until then? I was so excited. He had charmed me...or put a curse on me.

↠

True to his word Terrence showed up at seven and straight from there he took me to a fancy restaurant that served exquisite food. I offered to pay for my share but he adamantly refused. I felt so guilty because I caught a peek at the bill and, honestly, it might have been just under half the cost of my monthly rent.

I felt underdressed and I was. I might as well have been wearing pajama's.

But I had an extraordinary time with Terrence. He drank water and I sipped on two glasses of white wine. I got more bubbly and conversational as the night went on. I didn't feel unsafe around him. I knew he would take me home that night with no expectations of any sort of fornication. I was a bit rusty. I needed more of an emotional connection to feel ready for...that.

We hit it off extremely well. It was constant banter back and forth. I found Terrence incredibly intelligent and insightful, and although I expected him to fumble on the conversation at least once he didn't. He was flawless in every aspect. I was sad when the restaurant was closing and he had to pay the bill. It was late, given we sat there for a few hours, but I didn't want the night to end.

He drove me home. I lived in a tiny little pastel yellow war-home, a rental, that wasn't in horrendous condition but also wasn't aesthetic enough to be bragged about. I was just thankful it was in a safe neighborhood.

I won't even get started on my Oldsmobile Alero. I was so grateful it was in the shop. I was so grateful when I could afford to purchase something modern.

When Terrence pulled up and parked I looked over at him to see his reaction. He seemed like the kind of man that probably owned his own private island somewhere and I expected that if the night were to go wrong anywhere it would be in this moment as he laid eyes on my unimpressive house.

But instead he smiled and turned to face me.

"I like it. It's cozy."

"Yeah?" I asked, feeling a little less embarrassed. "Thank you."

He inspected my face briefly before saying, "I'll walk you to the door."

I nodded.

"Sure."

I grabbed my keys from my purse before slinging it over my shoulder. We got out of his car, a cherry red Mercedes Benz, aerodynamic and sleek. I couldn't help but brush my fingers against the paint as Terrence walked around the vehicle and posted himself at my side. He held out his arm and I giggled as I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.

He walked me to my front door and my nerves got the best of me, fingers trembling as I unlocked it. Before I opened the door, however, I looked back at Terrence who had his hands in his coat pockets.

"Thank you for tonight," I told him. "I had a nice time."

"Ditto," he said. "When can I see you again?"

"We'll keep in touch." I smiled. We had exchanged numbers earlier.

He nodded slowly at me, looking down at my lips. I ran my teeth over them subconsciously. He began to lean in, removing his hands from his pockets.

"Yes we will," He breathed as he placed his hands on my hips, pulling me into him. I gasped, nearly dropping my keys and bag as I grabbed onto his shoulders for support.

And then he kissed me.

It curled my toes, sent lightning travelling through my bloodstream. I closed my eyes, feeling his lips against mine. He smelt so good. He was so tall, so warm. I hoped we would see each other again soon. I really wanted to see him again. It was like being in the presence of a movie star.

When he pulled away I was speechless, looking up at him. He released me and I took a step back, pressing my index finger to my bottom lip. He stared at me for a few moments, taking me in before bidding me goodbye, Beth. I could only wave in return. When I was inside my home I watched him pull away from my living room window. He had swept me off my feet, truly.

If only I had known then that he wasn't so perfect, after all. All of us have eyes that wander.