Chapter 6
REN
Anger throbbed in my temples, creating an ache behind my eyes that grew with each passing minute until I had no choice but to get some painkillers.
It’d been a few hours since we’d had the “pleasure” of meeting Oliver’s dad, and I was still clenching my fists too hard against my sides, trying to hide my reaction from Oliver.
He’d relaxed since we’d arrived at the tattoo parlor, but he was also holding himself too tight.
The tension in his shoulders spread down his spine.
He was trying to concentrate on the fake skin in front of him, but his hands shook so subtly that if I hadn’t been watching him carefully, I might’ve missed it.
But I was watching him and I didn’t miss it.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled. KC should be here offering Oliver advice. I sucked at this shit. While I had my fair share of bad father moments, at least mine never tried to punch me. Instead, Father loved to tell me how disappointed he was and send me off to boarding school.
Wylie made a face at me from where he sat beside his client and nodded in Oliver’s direction, his message clear. Go comfort him, you idiot. He used the back of his wrist to swipe his blond bangs out of his eyes.
I shrugged. How the fuck was I supposed to make Oliver feel better? His dad was a dickhead and now he had to live with this man being a disappointment.
Wylie rolled his eyes and muttered up toward the ceiling, clearly trying to work out how I’d managed to get Oliver in the first place. Yeah, me too, buddy. Sex was easy. Relationships? Fucking hard.
There weren’t a lot of things I could say to Oliver. Sorry your father’s shitty. Mine too. Want to start a club? You can be president. I bit down on my bottom lip to hold in a groan.
Flint sidled up beside me. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length dark hair, eyeing Oliver like a man noticing an injured puppy—or kitten. His face crumpled and he nudged me with his elbow. “Do something.” His Texan accent thickened with his sadness. “He’s your boyfriend. Grow a pair, Booth.”
I cursed under my breath. Now I had two of my employees against me, and with the way Wylie’s client was staring, it was three against one.
Taking a deep breath, I stood from where I sat on the stool behind the register. I moved slowly, gathering as many thoughts as I could before I approached Oliver. Comfort wasn’t a strong suit of mine. I fucked people until their brain turned to mush, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t work this time.
I took a seat beside Oliver.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. He had on a pair of black headphones, music blasting so loud I could hear song lyrics from where I sat. KC’s jersey hung loose around his shoulders, and while it’d been sexy this morning, it made him look frail, especially with how sad he was.
He laid down his tattoo gun and slid off his headphones.
In front of him, the fake skin was a mess, ripped in ways no one would want their flesh to be.
He’d been struggling a lot with tattooing on skin, and while there were aspects that came with practice, Oliver’s skills hadn’t advanced in the weeks he’d been here.
I kept that tidbit to myself. He didn’t need to hear bad news from me.
“Hi,” he murmured.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat and peeked at Flint, who made a go on gesture with his hand. Fuck him. For as long as I’d known him, he’d never been in a relationship. What did he know? “You doing okay, Kitten?”
He blinked at me, mouth twisting. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?” I straightened.
“You’re being nice. It’s weird. Don’t.” Oliver’s eyebrows dipped. “I don’t need sympathy. That man back there is an asshole. I told you, he’s not my dad.”
“Right.” At first, it’d been understandable that Oliver didn’t equate that idiot as his father, but now it was veering on concerning. Did he really not think the man was his dad?
Oliver rolled his eyes. “I mean, I know he is, but he’s also not, so I’m not going to be mad about it. He can go eat shit.” He went to slide the headphones back on, but I grabbed his wrist.
“You’re allowed to be upset about it, Kitten. I mean, fuck, he was a jackass. He used your mom. He was going to lay his hands on you. That’s un-fucking-forgivable.”
“I’m not upset.” His eyes told a different story, but he was putting up a wall, one I knew all about from experience.
Oliver wasn’t the kind of person who would do well by cutting himself off from the world, but I wasn’t sure how to stop him, either.
Maybe he was too soft, but that’s what I enjoyed about him.
Because beneath that softness, there was also fire.
An attitude. If he built that wall to hide behind, there’d be none of that. He’d be a shell.
Only the meanness would remain.
Not for the first time, I wished KC was here. I’d messaged him, and he’d said he’d head here after his next class finished, which meant he should be rocking up any time.
What should I do until then?
“Have I ever told you about my father?” The words slipped out of my mouth; there was no stopping them.
Oliver glanced back toward me, nose crinkling. “No.”
“He’s a DA.” I quirked a sardonic smile.
“Usually, that’s supposed to mean he’s a good person, right?
He prosecutes criminals and represents the city.
My mom comes from money. Her family has a fuck ton of it.
Part of me thinks they only married for optics.
She liked how she looked marrying a man of the people and he loved the money Mom came with. ”
Oliver settled, dropping his headphones against his shoulders. He turned toward me, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Somewhere behind me, the bell above the door chimed, but I heard Flint handling the new arrival.
“Neither of my parents liked their kids very much. There’s four of us. Henry’s the oldest. He’s a lawyer, but he’s in family law. Then there’s Alicia, she’s a doctor. Then Luke, then me.”
When was the last time I’d talked about my family? I couldn’t remember. They were a topic I actively avoided. But Oliver needed to hear this, needed to know he wasn’t alone. And he was listening, his back straight, gaze firmly on my face.
“Our father’s not a terrible person.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but they were the truth.
“Just a shitty fucking father. He was never around. His career was everything. And if we weren’t like him, striving for a respectable career, then we were disappointments.
So, Luke and I are the delinquents of the family, I guess. ”
Oliver’s mouth pressed in a thin line and his eyebrows furrowed, but he stayed still. Listening.
“After Luke went rogue, Father’s words, not mine, my parents sent me to a boarding school.
It was shitty, full of pretentious pricks.
Rich spoiled brats. It’s where I met my buddy, Ripley.
” I shrugged. “He was about the only friend I had in that place. I hated Father for it. Mom’s always been a bitch, made it known she never wanted kids, but I expected Father to defend me.
Instead, he supported her. Let her send me away.
He told me I was heading in the same direction as Lucas. ”
Oliver made a sound in the back of his throat. He looked up to my brother, maybe even saw him as a father figure. How Luke could ever be a father, I didn’t know.
“Anyway, Father likes to tell me how disappointed he is that I chose to be a tattoo artist. He tells me it’s a waste of talent.
” Okay, maybe he was a bad person. What kind of asshole treated his children that way?
“Obviously, he isn’t as bad as your dad.
” I laughed awkwardly because this was not helping.
I was blabbing and out of my element. Talking about my home life wasn’t going to make Oliver feel better.
“I’m fucking this all up, so I’m gonna shut the fuck up now. ”
I went to stand, but Oliver caught my elbow. His wide brown eyes pooled with unshed tears.
“Don’t go. Please. This is the most you’ve told me about your life.” He swallowed, Adam’s apple jumping in his throat. “Tell me more?”
“Tell us both more.”
I startled and glanced toward the counter where KC was leaning. He smiled gently, his red hair windblown from being outside. His arms flexed under the sleeves of his black T-shirt, and the color made his hair pop even more.
Flint was gone, probably headed toward the back, and Wylie concentrated on his client, giving us the illusion of privacy.
KC closed the distance between us and swooped down to lay a kiss on Oliver’s lips. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”
Oliver made a face. “Did Ren text you?”
“Of course he did. He was worried.” KC grabbed a seat with wheels and dragged it over to sit beside Oliver. A combination of warmth and concern flickered over his face as he rubbed his hand down Oliver’s arm. “I came as soon as I could. I had class with Weeman.”
“Ugh. That sucks balls.”
I snorted. “Sucking balls is fun. He doesn’t sound fun.”
Oliver and KC laughed, the happy sound echoing off the walls.
“He’s not.” KC grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his fingers over his skull as he went. “He hates athletes, so he’s a real pain in the ass.” I opened my mouth, but KC beat me to it. “No, not the good pain in the ass. You’re more like Barber than you think.”
I didn’t know what my face did, but whatever happened on it made KC chuckle.
“Are we still on for tonight with him and Errol?” KC asked.
My gaze slid to Oliver, taking in the way his shoulders relaxed while beside KC.
Would he ever feel that comfortable around me?
I riled him up, but only because he seemed to enjoy the banter.
Maybe I needed to go easier on him. Between the whole virginity thing and now his dad, he had to be hurting.
“If Kitten feels up to it.”
“I do.” Oliver offered me the sweetest smile that I wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of. “It would help to blow some shit up.”
“Wait. You’re serious? They actually have bombs and stuff?” I stared at them incredulously, even as they gave each other a grin.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.” KC rubbed his hands together in an objectively unKC-like way. And despite the worry about meeting my uncle for the first time niggling in my stomach, a feeling akin to excitement swelled inside me, too. This visit might not be too bad.