Chapter 21 #2
Barber paused, eyebrows furrowing. He studied Ren carefully, his gaze trailing down Ren’s body and up again as though trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece.
I didn’t give him a chance to overanalyze Ren. I grasped both Ren’s and Oli’s hands. “We’re together. The three of us.”
Barber didn’t acknowledge me. It was almost as if he didn’t hear me at all. Finally, his eyes widened and mouth dropped open. “Renshaw?”
I blinked, bouncing my attention between Ren and Barber and back again. Renshaw? What kind of name was that and why was Barber calling him by it? “Uh, this is Ren.”
“Ren?” Barber’s voice warped to uncertainty as he stepped closer.
His leather jacket sat heavily on his shoulders, the Kings of Men insignia vibrant on his patch.
He’d come here to threaten, that much was obvious, especially with how he’d stormed in.
This was a version of Barber I’d never met.
I couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been this quiet. “But you’re Renshaw.”
Oli made a confused sound, and I squeezed his hand in agreement.
Ren didn’t argue with Barber, didn’t tell him he was wrong, and I realized Ren couldn’t be his full first name. Or, maybe it could be, but I’d never asked him if it was. Hell, I didn’t know Ren’s last name. I’d never asked and he’d never given it to me.
Normally, I would Google someone until my fingers bled when I first met them, but Ren had told me he didn’t do social media except for work.
It hit me all at once that Ren was a real mystery.
Totally getting to know someone from scratch was exciting, but in the face of this development, it was beginning to feel disconcerting.
Ren raised his chin, defiance bleeding into his expression. “Luke.”
“Fuck, it is you!” Barber laughed and clapped his hands.
“I didn’t know. I haven’t seen you since you were little.
Holy fuck. Look at you!” He gave Ren a once-over again, his grin growing wider.
“Fucking look at you, man. You’re not a kid anymore.
You’ve got tattoos.” His attention flipped to us.
“My little brother has a body full of tats!”
I gaped. “Brother?”
“Little?” Oli said at the same time.
“And you’re big. Holy fuck, you’re big.” Barber practically bounced over to Ren with the enthusiasm of a three-year-old.
He slapped Ren’s arms, then his shoulders.
“Those muscles. You’re built like the Terminator.
Hell, you’re the Terminknator. Fuck, you’d fit right in with the Kings.
You know how to ride a bike, right? Fuck it, I’ll teach you.
Holy shit, my little bro is here in New Gothenburg.
Wait till I tell Uncle Errol! He’ll be fucking psyched. ”
“Wait, stop. What?” I turned and looked between them again, not sure if my brain was processing everything that was happening. Did I hear Barber right? Was Ren his brother? Why didn’t Ren say something? “I thought you came here to get angry at Oli.”
“I did.” Barber hooted out another laugh, bouncing on his motorcycle boots. “But fuck, I didn’t know it was Renshaw who stole him. He can have whatever or whoever he wants.”
“Excuse me?” Oli squawked.
Barber waved him off. “He’s my brother! The only one I like. I give you permission.”
A tic began in Oli’s jaw. “I’m not a toy, Barber. You can’t just pass me around.”
“You’re like a son. So’s KC.” That stopped him. He gave Ren a wide-eyed stare. “Shit, KC is like a son. Quain. He’s my partner. He’s gonna be soooo pissed my brother is dating KC. And Oli. Holy shit. You’re both dating KC?”
The entire time, Ren stayed quiet, and I wasn’t sure what to make of his silence.
His face was fierce, a storm cloud intensifying behind his pupils.
There was an underlying danger, and it was as if my nose could smell the impending rain.
The pelting kind that didn’t let up until the world drowned.
The clench of his jaw was the earthquake, and I had to do something. And soon.
I didn’t get a chance.
“Fuck you, Luke.”
Barber’s excited babble fell into silence and he blinked rapidly at Ren, confused. “What?”
“Fuck. You.” Ren’s face transformed into a scary mask, eyes darkening and lip curling into a snarl.
“You are a waste of oxygen. A fucking disappointment.” He snorted and gave Barber his own once-over.
“I thought this would be delicious, to see you again. Make you hurt. But you’re pathetic. A fucking clown.”
Oli gasped loudly. “Ren—”
“It wouldn’t be hard to decimate your life. You are the worst biker, the worst fucking Booth to ever exist.” Ren paced forward, his strides long and packed with anger, until he was staring down into Barber’s face, a breath between them. “It is so easy to destroy you. I don’t have to try.”
My heart rattled, squeezing until it hurt.
I didn’t know what was happening, but the scene in front of me was fast becoming a car crash I couldn’t avoid.
I couldn’t look away, either, because two people I cared about were in the front seat, about to be hurt.
Yet, my feet were rooted to the floor and my muscles froze.
I was stuck. Immobilized as I watched my life crumble around me.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Barber hissed, the playfulness dissipating. “Why are you pissed at me, Shaw?”
Ren winced. “Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not Shaw to you. I’m nothing to you.” He lowered his voice. “Do you remember her? Andrea? Do you remember her face? Her smile?”
“Andrea?” Barber’s cheek dimpled as he raised the corner of his mouth in confusion. “Your babysitter? What the fuck does it matter?”
The storm raged in Ren and a fork of lightning struck, and it came in the form of him seizing the front of Barber’s jacket, shaking him.
“Ren, stop.” Oli went to rush forward, but I wrapped my arms around him.
“We can’t. Just wait. Let them have this out.” The words felt stuck in my throat, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if they were loud enough for anyone to hear. But Oli stopped fighting.
“You fucking destroyed her. One careless fucking comment. You jackass. You told her she was fatter than Trisha Morgan and she got an eating disorder. She made herself sick until she killed herself. I lost my best friend because of you.”
The story unraveled, and my memory jumped back to the photo in Ren’s apartment of the sweet girl in the picture with him. She was beautiful. Definitely not fat; although, I hated that word with a passion.
“What are you talking about?” Barber shouted, shoving Ren.
“I told her she was bigger than Trisha, but she was. Nearly everyone was. Trisha was anorexic. I wasn’t insulting her.
Fuck.” He grabbed a handful of Ren’s tank top, his grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
“I didn’t know she’d take offense.” Regret bloomed in his gaze, and I knew Barber well enough to understand he never said that sort of shit with meaning.
Did he say careless shit? Yeah, a lot, but he always apologized in his own way when he realized he’d done wrong.
“You killed her.” Ren wasn’t crying, but his voice shattered.
His words trembled. His fists tightened.
He bared his teeth in fury. “The only one who was there for me. And now I’m going to destroy everything you love.
Everything you care about. KC and Oli belong to me.
They’re mine and I’m going to break them.
Draw out their tears. Make them fucking hate you as much as I do. ”
My fingers curled into fists. All at once, the world around me stilled as everything that I was and am narrowed in on Ren and his anger and what he’d said. Was he just spewing nonsense because he was furious? Or did he really want to hurt us?
I didn’t know if he was on such a massive fucking tear that he’d forgotten we were here or if he was just that confident, but it didn’t matter. Bubbling rage engulfed me, and the sight of Oli beside me with watery eyes sent me crashing over the edge.
I stepped forward, joining the fray. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Ren jolted as though he’d been electrocuted, attention snapping to me. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and some of the anger seeped away, leaving behind regret.
Too fucking late.
“Did you plan to use me and Oli to hurt Barber?”
Ren’s grip on Barber loosened until Barber extracted himself, but Ren focused solely on me and Oli. “KC—”
“Did. You. Plan. To. Use. Us?” I shoved forward until I was in his face. “Were we collateral damage in some stupid pissing match with Barber? One he apparently didn’t even realize he was in.”
Ren faltered, and it was like watching him glitch. The wrath fused with sorrow and regret, and the determination in his actions vanished. He was clueless on his next move, but it didn’t matter because I was already poking his chest.
“Fuck. You. We aren’t toys for you to play with, for your revenge or whatever the fuck this is.
” My bottom lip wobbled and I hated that.
“You wanted to break us? Congratulations. You did it. You’re a hero.
What was your plan? Make us love you, then ditch us?
Well, you’re right. We’re two guys that would hurt. Probably more than most.”
The sound that left Oli was caught between anguish and anger, and it came from the depths of his chest. A heaving grunt might’ve been his heart splintering and scattering into the recesses of his chest. I felt the same way.
“You really are a heartless asshole.” I shook my head and grasped Oli’s hand. “Come on, sweetheart.”
“Wait—” Ren went to step forward, but Barber cut him off with his body, his hand on Ren’s chest.
“Nope, you’re not going after them. I’ll go with them. You stay here and think about your bullshit. Jeez. It’s bad when that shit comes from my mouth. I sound like Grandma.” He manhandled Ren backward, then came to us, gesturing at us to leave out the door.
I looked at Ren once more, studying the wrecked expression on his face, and raised my chin. Fuck him. He couldn’t break us unless we wanted to be broken. And if I found it hard to breathe around my aching heart, then that was my business. For now, Oli was my top priority.
We left the tattoo parlor, ignoring the loud curses that followed in our wake.