“I might not like them, but I had a Glock in the salon for safety reasons. I’m entitled to have one. I’m sureyou’reaware of the second amendment.”
He grunted, and I expected more questions, but Undertaker called his name to get some help, and he left me there with another narrowed stare. I sighed and walked back over to Luke, who sat in one of his customer seats with Grant finishing up on his stitches.
“They’ll need to come out in a week or so,” Grant said, rubbing comforting circles on Luke’s shoulder. I didn’t like the way he touched him, even with the mental reminder that Grant was in a relationship, and jealousy weaved its way through me like acid—deadly and potent. It took all my effort not to knock Grant’s hand off him. “I think you might have a concussion, too, but keep an eye on it. If you feel disoriented or dizzy again, call me right away.”
Luke nodded and smiled at Grant through the mirror. “Thanks, Little King. ’Preciate it.”
Grant’s lips curved into a small smile. “You call me anytime, okay? Take care of yourself, Barber. I don’t need you getting killed.”
“I got a hard head, Doc. Been injured before.” He laughed, and Grant shook his head, then nodded at me as he swept past to help his brother and Undertaker.
I sat down in the seat beside Luke’s and crossed my legs, staring into the artistic mirrors with gold frames, which were beautiful and surprisingly elegant for a shop like this. “One of your club brothers said he’s from the Reyes Cartel.”
“Fuck, seriously?” He shook his head, then winced. Grabbing his ribs with a cringe of pain, he sighed. “No idea what’s happening there. I have nothing to do with the cartels.”
He did, he just didn’t know about it. I’d need to call his father and update him, which really chafed my balls. I hated that the bastard was right and Luke was in danger. “The Kings didn’t piss anyone off? What about family?”
He frowned for a moment before recoiling in discomfort. “Nah. My family ain’t got nothing to do with drugs. Uncle Errol’s a crazy asshole, but he doesn’t sniff or cook anything.” Snorting, he said, “You’re taking this well.”
I smiled. “I’ve lived in New Gothenburg for most of my life. This city has always been riddled with crime and drugs. It’s not new.”
“So you’ve handled cartels before?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“No, and I haven’t killed anyone before.”Lie.I gave him my best concerned expression and worried my bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you think they’ll try and kill me?”
Luke dragged my chair closer, which wasn’t easy because it was heavy with my weight, but he managed to get it close enough to cup my cheek and kiss me. I leaned into the touch of his mouth against mine, moaning softly. “I’ll keep you safe, Quain.”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “You will?”
He grinned wickedly. “I’ll help you out. The words arethank you.”
Rolling my eyes, I poked him in the side, and he laughed loudly, earning a few looks from his club brothers. “Are you still coming to my place later tonight?”
“Do you want me to?” He licked his lips and his grin turned seductive. “Because I might have stitches in my head, but not even that will stop me from getting into your pants.”
I chuckled. “Who says you’re going to get laid?”
He smirked. “But I nearly lost my life today. I could have died without getting a taste of your sweet ass. Do you want that to happen?”
Someone nearby grunted in amusement, but I ignored them. I traced the lines of the ink on his neck and sighed. “Fine. I’ll let you get into my pants. I suppose you deserve it.” It wouldn’t hurt to get laid, even if Luke was a target. After today’s attack, I wasn’t going anywhere, and this dry spell had gone on for too long. I needed a dick and I’d take Luke’s, even if he was an annoying bastard.
His grin went feral. “I’m gonna rock your world, baby.”
I rolled my eyes at the erupting laughter nearby, while Luke glared at his brothers.
“Shut up, you assholes, and clean up the mess.”
That only made them laugh harder.
Later that evening,after the Kings had the blood cleaned up and the body left with Undertaker, I took Luke back to my house in the BMW. By the time we got to Vert Island, he was in pain and muttering about fucking Mexican cartels. I fed him some painkillers in the kitchen before I went to check on KC. He was already sleeping, but when I opened the door, he jerked awake slightly to say hello before he collapsed back into dreamland. I kissed him on the forehead and made sure his blanket was covering him properly before I left his room again. I could fill him in on what had happened early tomorrow morning when we were alone.
Luke was still sitting on the chair at the kitchen island when I got back downstairs, with a bottle of rum in his hands. We’d stopped to buy a few bottles on the way over. He drank straight from the bottle, and I winced at the sight.
“How can you do that?” I teased when I reached him.
He held the bottle out to me. “Have some. It’ll calm the nerves. Always does for me after I shoot someone.”
“Do you shoot people often?” I asked seriously, although I already knew the answer. Hairstylist Quain didn’t, though.
