Chapter 1 #2
His face lit up, eyes shiny, and I kind of felt bad that I was here to destroy the business he worked for, but that was what happened when you were associated with Luke. My brother had a way of randomly ruining lives, so I was going to repay him and his friends the favor.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
The door flung open and the bell jangled as a dark-haired man stepped over the threshold into the store.
He paused at the sight of me, brown eyes curious as he studied me and my ink, before his attention returned to Jake.
He brightened and a grin spread across his face as he ate up the distance between him and the counter with long strides.
Oliver Hayes. Yeah, he would be the pin to pull in the grenade to blow up Luke’s life.
He worked in Luke’s barber shop—A Barber for Kings—as his assistant and had ever since he was a teenager.
Twenty-one. College student. Went to the same school as KC, Luke’s boyfriend’s son.
Dare I say, handsome, if you were into big brown doe eyes and baby faces.
The most recent photos from my private investigator had to be old.
He’d filled out. His shoulders were more defined in his white T-shirt and his biceps were wider, the corded muscles in his arms bigger than what the pictures had shown.
It was obvious he’d been working out, and I had to commend him on the effort.
Still slim and sinewy but bulking up. He looked good.
But most importantly, he was the dutiful assistant at Luke’s barber shop. An opportunity I could work with.
Neither would know what hit them.
He offered Jake a kind smile as he brushed his hand through his curls.
The dimple in his chin deepened. He was a good bit shorter than me, which had some of my predatory instincts purring to life.
I couldn’t quite explain it. As he shifted, the light cut across his face, highlighting the freckles speckling his nose and cheeks.
“Hey, Jake. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Oliver assessed me cautiously, and I raised my eyebrows. I hadn’t said a word to him, but there was something in his stare, a deep-rooted apprehension that made my skin prickle. “Is PD here?”
Jake gave Oliver a pointed look. “Oli, no. Listen, you can’t push this. If you want an apprenticeship, finish school and then come back. PD doesn’t want a green apprentice who hasn’t gotten a taste of the world yet. You know that.”
“I’m getting better.” Oliver’s voice lowered, desperation growing thicker as he leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the counter. His knuckles turned white. “I can prove it to him.”
Jake flinched, his mouth pressed in a thin line. He frowned and bit the corner of his lip.
“You want to ink?” I interrupted, stepping forward to stand beside Oliver. The top of his head reached my eyes, and he had to tilt his chin up to look at me. He squinted, mouth pursed in irritation, as he hunched his shoulders before thinking better of it and straightening.
“Who are you?” The sharpness of his tone sliced between us like a threat. He didn’t trust me. I loved that. Everyone was so quick to accept my charm and run with it.
I held out my hand. “The name’s Ren.”
He kept his eye on me as he accepted the handshake, his palm solid but weirdly shy in mine. “I’m Oliver.”
“I’m opening a tattoo parlor in the old art supply store. Signed the papers this afternoon. I wouldn’t mind an apprentice, teach fresh blood. You got a portfolio?”
“What?” Jake’s gaze cut to me, sharp and accusing, his expression giving away the betrayal he felt. He’d thought I was a customer, hadn’t known I was scoping out the competition. “You tattoo?”
I ignored him. He wasn’t important. Luke liked Oliver. If I could drag him into my business as an artist, I could tear Luke down shred by shred.
“Why the heck are you opening a tattoo parlor so close? Are you stupid?” Oliver ripped his hand out of mine. His jaw tensed and his gaze shuttered, a coldness seeping into the brown irises. “You know there’s one right here.”
I grinned and crossed my arms. “Because nothing stops me from doing what I want. So how about it? Want an apprenticeship?”
“You should leave.” Jake pointed at the door.
I pulled a few business cards out of my pocket that I kept on hand for moments like this, ones that would work in my favor against Luke. I dangled a card in front of Oliver, and he stared at it, the corner of his mouth quirking.
“Take it. My email’s on it. You can send me your portfolio, and we can shoot the shit. You should take an opportunity when it slaps you across the face,” I said.
He fiddled with a ring on his finger, a solid silver band.
I couldn’t make out the insignia on the top, but I caught sight of MC down at the bottom, and I had a feeling it had something to do with the Kings of Men.
My research told me Oliver’s dad had been a member of the club before being thrown in prison, and it made sense for Oliver to have something that had belonged to his father.
But to wear it? That took balls, especially since the Kings had enemies around the city.
“I’m loyal to PD.” He raised his chin, going for confidence, but he hunched his shoulders, bashfulness seeping in. He was a walking, talking contradiction. “And if I’m going to become an apprentice, it’ll be under him.”
“Oh, it’s like that? How often are you under him?” I waggled my eyebrows.
“Hey!” Oliver scowled.
Jake shook his head at me.
I laughed, amusement expanding in my chest. “You’re a fool.”
“And you’re a jerk,” he snapped, surging forward before pulling back, closer to the counter and Jake. “Get out.”
There was no way to resist poking at him. He was like an angry cat bristling everywhere. I tossed the cards in his face, and he sputtered as he instinctively tried to catch them, ending up with one clutched to his chest. His nostrils flared.
I held up my hands, pleasure at how angry I’d made him simmering low in my stomach.
I’d always loved getting emotional reactions from people I’d planned on hurting or didn’t like, and he responded so beautifully that it was difficult to stop myself from grinning.
Maybe he would come to me later, ask for me to teach him, or maybe he wouldn’t.
Either way, I’d delight in his downfall.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on Luke’s face.
“If you want to fail before you begin, that’s on you, kid.”
A bright red flush spread across Oliver’s face. “I’m not a fucking kid. I’m probably not much younger than you.”
He wasn’t. I was only five years older, but he didn’t need to know that. The less he knew about me, the better.
“Your friend must think you’re a kid if he won’t take you on as an apprentice.” I smirked.
Jake stood taller and walked around to the front of the counter. The kindness from before disappeared, leaving behind a coldness that didn’t fit his face at all. “Leave. Now. You’ve said what I’m sure you came in here to say. Goodbye.”
My grin widened. If only they knew. This was just the beginning. For Andrea. “Tell your boss I said hi and I’ll see him around.”
“You’ve got a death wish.” Oliver puffed out his chest, and I laughed. Poor, sweet, little baby thought he was a roaring lion when he was nothing but a kitten with itty-bitty claws.
With a wink, I disappeared out the front door and back toward my new shop.
When I stepped inside, the stale stench clogged my nose, but with some strong hands, I could have my business up and running fast. That satisfying thought had me humming as I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and called Flint Bruton, one of the tattoo artists who worked for me in LA.
“Howdy, Boss.” Flint’s Southern twang filled the other end of the line.
“Get your ass to New Gothenburg. I want this shop up and running in a week.”
Flint made a sound of disgust. “You kiddin’ me? You want me to leave Cali for that septic tank town?”
It was almost the same reaction I’d gotten from Ripley when I’d told him I was opening a tattoo parlor in New Gothenburg.
He’d sneered, told me I was stupid and I’d get bored fast in such a small city.
He could be a snob when he wanted to be.
He lived a life of luxury as a pro hockey player, so I let his attitude slide.
He had a particular hate-on for New Gothenburg.
A couple of the guys on their hockey team pissed him off.
Regardless, he was probably right, but I’d leave as soon as I got what I wanted.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re from Texas, you’ll be fine.”
“I reckon this is a trap.” Suspicion leaked into Flint’s tone. “You know I hate New York.”
“It won’t be for long. Bring Wylie with you. Tell him he doesn’t have a choice. You’ll get double your salary.”
“Fuck. He’s going to whine the entire time, Boss.”
I snorted. “He’ll get over it. Get the first flight out. I want you here by tomorrow.” I ended the call before he could argue.
I absorbed the details of the bare space that would be my future for the next few months. Years? Who knew how long it would take, but I was sticking around until my revenge was complete. That retribution started here, in a tattoo parlor I would build from ashes into a fortress.
The next piece of the puzzle? KC Beaumont.