13
Barber
“You feeling better?”Oli stared at me from where he sat behind the register, scowling suspiciously. It was the hundredth time he’d asked that exact damn question, and each time I answered the exact same way.
“Fine.” I stretched out from where I sat in the customer’s seat and sighed. We’d had a slow day today, and I felt like it’d taken forever to get to four o’clock in the afternoon. Oli had been here since he’d finished school, and he always got to the shop so quickly that I suspected he ran here. “How’s your mom?”
“Fine.” He grinned at me, and I laughed.
“You mocking me, kid?”
“Why would I do that?” He shrugged and tapped his fingers on the counter in front of him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure thing.” I straightened in the seat and touched the back of my head, wincing. Little King refused to take the stitches out because I’d busted it up again at the house and it still hurt like hell. “What’s up?”
“What happened between you and Quain?” He leaned his cheek on the palm of his hand and raised his dark eyebrows. “One minute you’re floating on air, the next you don’t even mention him. He hasn’t been in for a while, and I asked Jorge, the stylist next door, and he said Quain’s gone outta town and won’t be back for a while. Said he’s going to be manager, and he’s not gonna come in and lecture you because you make him want to piss his pants.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Actually, pretty sure he said ‘pee his pants,’ but who the hell uses ‘pee’ anyway?”
I laughed and stood, stretching out the crick in my back. Moving over to my cart, I checked I had all my tools ready. Sometimes people came in when it was close to closing time because they’d just finished work. “Nothing happened.”
Oli might know I’m a King, but he had no idea what happened within the club, even if his mom was a friend. He was too young to understand. “Sophie says she was kidnapped. No one really believes her, though. I do.”
I glanced at him, and he gave me a smug smirk. Shaking my head, I pointed at him. “Keep your head down, Oli. You don’t want to get involved in this mess, okay? You’re a good kid.”
“Don’t give me that good-kid crap,” he grumbled, yanking at his curls. “My dad is one of you!”
“And look how that turned out.” I sighed and walked over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I just want to keep you outta prison. Your dad doesn’t want you in the cell beside him.”
“How the hell do I know what he wants? He doesn’t want anything to do with me.” His shoulders slumped forward and he sighed. “He says I’m not his kid.”
Fuck.“He’s mad at life right now. Your mom and he were glorified fuck buddies and they barely had a relationship. He didn’t expect a kid from it. He’s never really known you, and he’s never forgiven himself for it. He wants you to have a good life.”
“I’d have a good life if he’d be a part of it.” He leaned forward on his elbows and stared through the storefront windows out into the street. Office workers went about their day, power walking past our shop. A few stopped in at Quain’s salon, and every time I saw someone head into it, my heart crashed against my ribs.
A small part of me waited for Quain to come into our shop with a smart-ass quip, but it hadn’t happened for a couple of weeks now, and he’d said he was leaving. I hated that I didn’t have the guts to tell him to stay. Anything related to my father, and I reverted back to a teenager, where my anger controlled every action and thought. Quain had only been here for him and that frustrated the hell out of me.
“Cain’s a good man, Oli, and when he’s out he’ll talk to you.” Hell if I knew if that was true or not. Cain had been the vice president of the club, and he’d only gone to prison a few years or so ago for petty theft, and stayed in for stabbing some smart-ass. The law had been on a rampage since Scar, Charley, and Bishop had gotten out of prison. They’d been trying everything to put the Kings back in there. Like the rest of the brothers who’d been sent to prison before, Cain didn’t rat us out and took the hit.
“I hope so.”
My cell phone buzzed and I glanced at it again. Father.Double fuck!
“Be back in a second.” I rose and headed to the staff room, hitting the button to accept the call. “What the fuck do you want? I’m safe, so stop calling.”
“Lucas, I worry about you,” Father said, that always grave voice of his low and serious. He couldn’t take a joke, another reason we never got along. The Kings hadn’t let me live down my dad being a district attorney since we’d rescued Errol and Sophie.
“Well, don’t. It’s done.” I went to end the call then stopped, putting it to my ear again. I stared at the coffeemaker that had barely been touched over the last few weeks. I’d chosen to drink my hidden whiskey instead. “You know what? Are you fucking happy? Your brother and niece were kidnapped because you didn’t have the balls to call me yourself and warn me. You got a babysitter instead.”
“Mr. Ghost was highly recommended—”
“I don’t care aboutMr. Ghost.” I snorted. Father had no idea who Quain really was, and I didn’t know whether to laugh over that fact or break something. “You fucked up, Dad, and you know what? I. Don’t. Want. Anything. To. Do. With. You. Stop calling.” I ended the call and growled.
Walking out to the store again, I was met with Oli’s raised eyebrows. I shrugged. It wasn’t the time to explain anything to him.
The front door crashed open, and my hand flinched and reached for the Ruger in my holster, but I stopped when I realized who it was. “KC?”
Oli’s eyes widened and he rushed to stand on his feet. I didn’t miss the blush that swept over his cheeks as he awkwardly held his hand up in a wave. “Hi.”
I would have laughed if I wasn’t so preoccupied with Quain’s son being here. I walked around to the other side of the counter and crossed my arms. “What are you doing here, kid? Your dad made it clear I was to have nothing to do with you.”
