Chapter 1

Walter stood at the glass door staring at the traffic inching its way to the freeway. The neighborhood's changed quite a bit since their father opened the shop and he shook his head watching the patrons entering the new porno multiplex across the street. There used to be a deli and a hardware store there a few years ago, but those days are long gone.

He sighed. Only one customer since they opened six hours ago and soon they would be joining the ranks of the mom and pop delis and hardware stores unless something can be done to ebb the tide.

Their father had been a barber his entire life and opened at this strip-mall twenty-two years ago with great success. At one time he had five other men working with him just to keep up with the clients. That all changed about six years ago when they opened the national chain of hair salons on the corner.

He kept a few loyal customers, but little by little, most left. Soon it was just their father and his long time friend left cutting hair. Three years ago, the Albert retired, leaving Stan to run the shop alone. It didn't matter much as he was only having about ten clients per day, enough for him to handle alone.

It wasn't diagnosed correctly. Stan was only 53 and was too young to be experiencing the effects of aging. He still looked the same and spoke the same, but he was getting forgetful and at times disorientated. Everyone was worried, but he refused to seek help and continued working every day, just as he had for nearly 40 years. The progression took them all by surprise.

The business suffered as the rapid onset of his condition affected his work. Many people around the community coined the barber shop "the butcher shop" referring to the hack jobs they were getting. Walter and George wanted to help him, but he refused, pushing them away until it was too late. The damage had been done.

"Maybe we can hire someone to stand outside on the side of the road with a sign," he heard his brother suggest from the back of the store. He was sitting in the last chair reading the newspaper and seemed excited to have this revelation.

Turning to see him gawking at him from over the paper, he shook his head. They have tried many things to get customers back but still haven't managed to get more than one or two clients per day. That won't even pay for the electricity let alone any of the other bills.

"We can't afford to hire anyone right now. If you want to shake a sign out there, knock yourself out."

"I'm just saying it might work. You never know 'til you try it, right?"

George was five years younger and not what you'd call the brightest bulb in the box, but he means well. The car pulling into the parking spot near the door brought his attention back outside and his spirits rose with the possibility of another customer.

Watching with hopeful anticipation, he felt disheartened as the man went next door to the liquor store. Shaking his head he looked beyond the new arrive to the whore plying her trade across the street in front of the multiplex. The neighborhood has really gone downhill these past few years.

He thought about the Asian massage parlor just on the other side of the billiards hall next to them that the cops closed down about a month ago. It was a big fiasco with the parking lot filled with police cars, the DEA, and ICE going in and out of the place. Six scantily dressed Asian women were brought out in hand cuffs followed by the older fat Asian woman he assumed was the madam.

"We can run another ad in the paper. That helped last time," George suggested.

"I already went over that with you. It didn't pay for itself. The few extra clients we got hardly covered the cost for one week and we ran it for a month."

"I'm just thinking out loud," he added hearing the irritation in his brother's voice. He knew of the problems and was just as concerned as Walter. He had quit his job as the over night custodian at the Galleria to go to barber college. Neither of them wanted to follow in their father's footsteps to become a barber, but it was his last request.

Walter took time off as the marketing director for an international firm to help his father when he became ill. The stress and financial burden it caused wrecked his marriage and his wife of ten years called it quits. She couldn't bear to be around her bitter, hardened husband any longer. On his death bed, Stan brought his two sons together and made them promise not to let his life's dream end.

They begged Albert to return while they went to college to get their license. Hesitantly he agreed and nine months later, they passed the state exam and were ready to work. No one was happier than the old man as he was now able to return to his retirement. Borrowing forty thousand dollars to renovate and modernize the shop, they spent the next month closed while they made the transformation. That was three months ago.

Sighing, Walter walked back to the chairs and grabbed the sports section to reread it for the third time. The clanging of the cow bell turned his attention to the door with anticipation. He was disappointed to see it was George's obnoxious foster daughter Lindsey.

Draped with an oversized beach towel, she made her way quickly toward the bathroom at the back of the shop. "I gotta pee," she crudely announced darting through the curtained doorway.

Walter couldn't help but notice the long slender legs sticking out below the towel as she disappeared. "Lindsey's getting tall," he stated the obvious.

"Yea, she's already outgrowing everything we bought her for Christmas. Puberty kicked in last summer and she ain't stop growing yet."

"She's almost a teenager, right?"

"Yea, in about two months," he replied letting out a deep sigh.

"God how time flies. She's been with you, what, two or three years now?"

"Last month was three years."

"And she's got such a pretty face. In a few years you'll be chasing the boys off with a stick."

"It won't be that long, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

"I had to nail her window closed last week."

"Nail it closed? Why?"

"She kept sneaking out late at night and two weeks ago, I caught her with a boy in her room with his shirt off."

"WHAT? Are you serious?"

"Yea, I'm afraid so."

"What were they doing?"

"Just sitting on her bed, but he had his arm around her and I think they were kissing."

"How old was this boy?"

"I not sure, fifteen, maybe sixteen or so."

"Oh my God, George, you have a major problem on your hands."

"Yea, I'm afraid you're right. I was hoping the stuff from her past wouldn't affect her, but looks like I'm gunna have to deal with that a lot sooner than I wanted to. She stopped going to therapy last year and hasn't really been acting right since then. And even worse was the Altoids tin I found in her drawer with three hand-rolled cigarettes. I think it was marijuana."

"Marijuana? Are you sure? What did you do with them?"

"I flushed them and told her I never wanted to see her with stuff like that ever again."

The men stopped talking as Lindsey returned, carrying the beach towel bunched around her neck. Walter's eyes bulged as he saw the skimpy bikini she was wearing and he couldn't pull his eyes away from her.

"Did you have fun at Vicky's?"

"Yea, I guess," she responded making her way through the shop.

"You wanna call your mom to pick you up?"

"You mean your wife?" she replied snidely.

"Come on, Lindsey, we've talked about this before. She's your mother and I'm your father."

"My momma's in jail and you ain't my real father. I never met him."

George looked at Walter with a worried expression. He never was a strong man and this girl was walking all over him and Terry. Soon she's telling them what to do, or at least not obeying them. He knew she had issues, but wasn't sure how extensive they were.

"Lindsey, you need to show me some respect. You know I don't like it when you talk to me that way and yesterday you made your mother cry when you said those mean things to her."

"So," she replied flopping in the row of chairs opposite of the men, crossing her arms across her chest. "Like I care."

Walter tried not to look at her but she was blooming into quite a beautiful young, uh, lady, despite her attitude. She slumped into the chair, stretching her legs outward and wedging her ultra small blue bikini bottoms tightly against her crotch. He caught himself looking at the crease her pussy was making and tried not to stare.

Unconsciously he licked his lips, wondering... 'no, that's not right. She's too young!' He looked away but soon found his stare returning. It had been over two years since his wife divorced him and with school and the business, he hadn't had time to date, not that he really wanted to. Women are a pain in the ass and it would be a lot cheaper in the long run to just use a prostitute whenever the urge struck.

"Umh, Lindsey, did you bring any other clothes to wear?" George asked.

"Hel~lo?? I went swimming, you wear a bathing suit when you swim," she quipped, rolling her eyes.

Walter glanced quickly toward his younger brother to see what his response would be. Not having any children of his own, he felt fairly confident that he would never allow his daughter to speak to him that way, especially with the tone she used. George, as usual, coward in his seat, not reacting to or disciplining her.

"Uh, George, why don't you call Terry and have her pick Lindsey up," Walter suggested with a grumble. He didn't care for her attitude and the way she was dressed would surely cause a disruption if a client did happen to come in.

Turning back to the wayward girl, Walter looked into her defiant eyes with a scowl. She smirked, parting her legs and giggling as his stare automatically drifted lower. His eyes widened noticing the thin material creating a deep camel toe between her legs. Realizing his intense stare, he glanced upward, noticing her smug expression at catching him looking at her sexy young body.

Not wanting to react to her overt sexuality, he cringed, feeling his cock surging, swelling in the tight confines of his slacks. "George, call Terry," he repeated with urgency. Not so much because of her attitude, or her attire, but he was more afraid of what might happen if she remained. It's been a very long time since he's been with a woman, even if she is only thirteen-years-old, well almost thirteen.

Her eyes follow George as he walked to the counter to use the shop phone. He had to turn off the family cell phones months ago as it became too expensive. Lindsey responded hostilely as she lost her phone privileges and threatened to run away and actually stayed some place for two days.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she walked to the entrance, leaning against the push bar to look out, groaning loudly to display her boredom. A young man passing the entrance stopped, looked in but continued walking to the liquor store. Another car parked in front of the shop and the driver approached the doorway, staring at Lindsey. The cow bell rang out as he pulled the door open.