Chapter 13
OLI
“No, you can’t.” Barber crossed his arms and squared off with me. There was a splotch of shaving cream on his cheek, and he rubbed at it with the wrist of the hand holding a glinting silver straight razor, then went back to glaring at me. A fragrant pine scent hung heavy in the air.
“Yes!” I crossed my arms and glared. “And your Sweeney Todd impression doesn’t freak me out.”
He glanced down at himself and huffed rather than actually laughing.
“It’s too fucking early on a Saturday for this shit.
You come back Monday and we’ll talk.” He punctuated his words with his razor before spinning back toward the chair, where Jester was patiently waiting, but I grabbed his shoulder.
Barber spun back with his hands up, as if he was going to karate chop me or something.
I rolled my eyes. “You can’t tell me no!”
Jester watched us through the mirror, eyebrows raised, which was the same as a “what the fuck” from anyone else, but I didn’t care.
There was a sadness in his eyes that usually wasn’t there, but I didn’t know what had happened and I never asked.
It was better not to know with the Kings.
His evil-smiling Jester tattoo stared at me from his right bicep, the top of its head cut off by his tight-fitting black T-shirt.
He stroked his short beard as he watched us.
Barber shrugged. “You’re not allowed to quit. What can I say?” The corner of his lips kicked up into a smirk, but he still looked pissed off.
Jester leaned back with his hands curling over the arms of the barber chair he was sitting in, watching us like we were a particularly interesting sport—or perhaps an annoying one.
I tossed up my hands. “I’m not allowed to quit?”
“That’s right! You’ve worked here too long. You’d be wasted somewhere else. And what is up with these emo, bullshit clothes? Did you go raid Undertaker’s closet? Because I gotta say, they aren’t you.”
Fury blazed a trail through me and I swore my balls hid for a moment. I stomped my foot. “I look great! How is a black T-shirt and black jeans emo?”
“Don’t forget the boots. You’re an emo clown. Are you wearing eyeliner?”
“I’ve seen you wear eyeliner!”
He sniffed. “Yeah, but it looks good on me. You’re too innocent for that shit. And you don’t wear black on black. It isn’t you. That’s the problem. What you’re doing, none of it is you. That’s what makes it suck.”
Jester nodded in the mirror, agreeing with Barber. The asshole!
“How would you know? You can’t tell me what to do. Oh my God. I’m going insane.” I picked up a spray bottle of water off the counter and spritzed it in Barber’s direction because it was either that or start swinging my fists.
He coughed and waved his hand as if I’d used hairspray instead.
The top of my head felt as if it might pop off. Only Barber could make me feel like an actual child. Or homicidal. Well, Barber and Ren. Ugh.
“Listen up, kiddo, I’m your boss. I can and will tell you what to do.”
“I’m quitting,” I snarled. “You can’t refuse that.”
“Why?” He turned back toward Jester but didn’t start doing anything. “This is stupid. Some guy swoops in and tells you that you can be his tattoo apprentice. By the way, what does that shit pay? And you’re just going to leave me high and dry? You can’t!”
“Why?” I snapped. “Why can’t I?”
He growled and gestured at me with the straight razor, and I took a big step back. “Because!” His face flushed red. “Because it isn’t right.”
Jester stared warily at Barber, and I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want him taking this out on my beard line, either.
“You always said I couldn’t work for PD, since my dad didn’t want me involved with club business. Well, I’m not working for PD. Your argument is dead in the water.”
Jester grunted and nodded, and Barber glared at him. “You stay out of this.”
Jester pulled a cigarette out from under his cape and lit up, and Barber must be really distracted because normally he chased people outside to smoke, since Quain, whose shop was next door, would lose his mind if the smell got into his place.
“This guy has nothing to do with the Kings or you! Therefore, I can do whatever I want!”
Barber shoved the empty chair nearby and made it spin. His jaw tensed and the way he grimaced at me hurt my feelings. Barber was a lot of things, and sometimes people thought he was stupid, but he wasn’t. He was really fucking smart. But I could tell right now he thought I was a moron.
Hell, I hated that I cared so much about his opinion, especially when he was trying to talk me out of following my dreams.
“This is bullshit.” Barber slapped the chair and stopped it. “I need you here. You can’t just walk away from me.” He cleared his throat and wobbled the chair back and forth. “From my business, I mean. We’re family.”
Pure rage tore through me. “Is this how you treat family? Do you hold family back? Ignore what they need? Did you convince PD to say no to me working at his tattoo parlor so you could have me here working for less than someone else would?”
He huffed out an incensed sound and the fist holding the straight razor thudded over his heart. “I pay double what anyone else does!”
“Wonder if Quain would agree. Is he over in his shop? And would you stop swinging around that blade? I’m not calling an ambulance if you nick a jugular!”
Barber pointed the straight razor at me again. “You leave Quain out of this.”
Jester blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling, and the pungent burn of tobacco mixed with the pine made me weirdly homesick. Barber smelled that way a lot. This had been home after school for years of my life.
I’d lived a thousand lives here.
Barber had convinced me not to drop out of high school when I’d been restless and bored, and he had done a lot of other good things for me. He usually wanted what was best for me. But he didn’t know everything.
Didn’t he understand this was already hard for me? It was terrifying. The end of an era. But I had to keep taking steps forward or I would be stuck here forever.
The bell jingled and a man in a sharp black suit wandered into the shop, lowering an umbrella that dripped onto the floor. Behind him thunder cracked. I hadn’t noticed the storm breaking because I’d been so distracted by Barber and his stupid crap.
The man stared at Jester smoking and a furrow dipped between his eyebrows. “Is there any way I could get a trim? I have a job interview in a half hour.”
“We’re busy,” Barber bellowed at him.
Someone pounded the wall on the other side of the mirror.
The stranger cringed and bolted out the door, getting soaked by the downpour before he could get his umbrella opened again. That wouldn’t be good for his job interview.
“No, we’re not busy. There’s nothing else to say. I’m allowed to quit! You just want to keep me trapped here.” I cupped the back of my neck with both hands to stop myself from hunching. I knew that was a bad habit I had, and damned if I would look weak during this debate.
Hurt crossed Barber’s face, a flash that was there and gone, replaced in seconds by an angry scowl. “I thought you enjoyed working here.”
“I am made for art, not whatever this is.”
“This is art!” He gestured around the shop, eyes wider than usual.
He was starting to look deranged. Jester stubbed out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and tossed the butt in the sink.
Barber should be losing his mind on him, but he was too busy glaring at me.
“It’s as much art as anything PD does. If I do a bad job, people are upset for weeks.
Or they shave it off, I guess.” He pouted.
“But there are consequences. I’m damned good at my job. ”
Jester chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. “Perhaps to you, it is, but I sweep the floors. Stock. Ring people out. Make sure you don’t get into trouble with the IRS and pay your taxes. I’m not doing anything real here.”
“Out.” Barber waved at the door and his bottom lip was in danger of tripping him if it stuck out any farther.
“Get out if you feel that way. Go.” He stomped over to the door and pointed outside.
It was raining so hard the fat drops were pooling in puddles on the sidewalk.
“Quain says I shouldn’t have negativity in my life. ”
My stomach sank. “I was quitting anyway.”
“Great! I’ll put your check in the mail.”
I stared at him. Outside, lightning forked across the sky.
KC walked through the open door.
Barber let out a little shriek while Jester lost his shit laughing.
My heart swooped. KC looked good and his broad shoulders filled the doorway perfectly. I could almost feel the way he’d touched me. How he’d held me down and fucked me. Was it only four days ago?
My dick took a swift and merciless interest in my surroundings, which I didn’t need.
I was still furious at Barber, and we hadn’t finished our discussion, not really.
Somehow, even though he’d been the one keeping me from my dreams, he was making me feel like the asshole for wanting to go do something better.
“Heeeey.” KC glanced between me and Barber, whose chest was heaving from all the yelling he’d been doing.
“Pa said to tell you that your phone is dead. He has been texting you about dinner tonight. Also, the shouting is bothering his customers, and he says to tell you that Oli is right. He can quit if he wants. And any sane person would quit if he worked for a boss who was shouting loud enough to be heard through a wall.”
“Hey!” Barber’s mouth fell open.
“They’re Pa’s words, not mine!” KC held up his hands, and I’d never seen him looking so apologetic.
I rushed past Barber and KC, scraping my back against the doorframe to wriggle through. The heat radiating off KC’s body was fantastic, especially when the cool rain splashed me. I shivered, despite the fact that it was the tail end of summer.
“You can’t quit!” Barber called.
I flipped him off, and Barber started after me, but KC put himself between us with his hands out. “I’ll talk to him.”