Chapter 22
REN
Christmas came and went, and January showed her face with the kind of winter storm that shut down the city. She was a bitch, but January and I never got along.
A new year was all about new beginnings, but I didn’t believe in that shit.
Especially when I was a kid, the extended holiday season came with parties and more parties with uptight rich people who thought fun was “jetting off to Paris for the new Balenciaga fashion show.” I’d never fit in with my parents’ world, but neither had Luke.
Maybe that was why I’d always connected with him.
Until I didn’t.
It was strange to be hanging around with him again.
It was even stranger knowing he was practically KC’s stepdad, though he acted like his dad.
When he found out KC had been benched, Luke raised hell.
Even threatened to get the Kings involved until Quain put a stop to Luke’s antics.
But it was nice to know he cared about my boyfriend.
Actually, he was a father figure to both of them.
Which was why when I’d called him ten minutes ago from my seat behind the counter at Revenge Tattoo and asked him to punch Cain, he’d taken a moment to seriously consider it.
“We have a time and a place for that at Punch Out beach.” He hummed. “I could challenge him.”
“You could. Give him a shiner from me and my kitten.”
He snorted out a laugh. “What kind of milk are you feeding him?”
I rolled my eyes, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold back a laugh. KC had told me some of my humor was similar to Luke’s and I could see it. “Shut up, dude.”
I glanced around the tattoo parlor. Oliver had stepped out to get us lunch at a nearby sushi place—which happened to be open as well, despite the frigid temperatures and strong wind.
They were officially shutting the streets tonight, encouraging people to stay off the roads, so we were handling the customers for the day before we headed home. KC was waiting for us there.
Flint and Wylie pretended they weren’t listening to my conversation, but they definitely were. Flint gave me a pointed look over his shoulder, and I sent him the middle finger, making the woman in his chair laugh.
“I mean it, though. You know he—” I clamped my lips together.
I couldn’t tell Luke about Darla being pregnant.
Who knew what would happen if that information got out?
Oliver would never forgive me. “PD told me Cain never wanted to be a dad and wasn’t father material.
I fucking get it, right? Our dad’s a shit father.
Some guys aren’t meant to be parents. But he treated my kitten bad.
He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. Any dude knows there’s a chance of pregnancy when you stick it in a pussy.
If you can’t take the responsibility of knocking someone up, fuck your hand. ”
“Or another man,” Wylie offered with glee, flashing me perfect white teeth he must’ve had bleached recently. Still every inch a Californian, even while he lived in cold as a witch’s tit New York.
“Right, or do back door. It’s not that difficult.
” I waved my hand toward Wylie, then let my palm fall against my thigh.
I’d parked my ass behind the counter after finishing with my last client before lunch and I’d waited until Oliver was out the door to call Luke and give him a piece of my mind. He was lucky I’d waited this long.
“Oli’s not a King. My club brothers like the kid, but we can’t defend his honor against another brother, Ren.”
“I’m your brother, too. Your brother by blood. You left me to defend myself against our parents and those conceited jackasses we call siblings.”
“I couldn’t take you with me—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen, you little bitch.”
Wylie coughed into his bent elbow, hiding his face and the snorting laughter that he’d tried to muffle. His blond bangs covered his eyes.
Luke made an amused sound over the phone line. “Did you just call me—”
“Yeah, I fucking did.” My fist tightened on my phone. “Either you and your brothers handle him or I will. Tell him to stay away from Oliver and his mom. And if you don’t give him a broken jaw, I will. Make a choice.” I ended the phone call.
It took me a moment to realize Wylie was staring wide-eyed at the front door, and my gaze shot there.
Oliver stood just inside the shop, holding two paper bags of food.
He stared at me with watery eyes, his adorable nose pink from the wind outside.
He had two scarves wrapped around his neck, his puffy dark gray winter coat making him look like a fat seal, but I was smart enough not to say that out loud.
He transferred the paper bag in his left hand to the one in his right before he kicked closed the door and yanked off his beanie.
“What did you tell him?” He stomped toward me, his combat boots thumping hard on the floor. “I don’t need Barber handling my dad.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kitten.” I gave him my most innocent smile and slotted my fingers under my chin, blinking rapidly. “I’m sweeter than honey.”
He glared. “You’re no sweeter than paint thinner on the tongue.”
“Hey. Lies!” I waggled my eyebrows. “I have something better for your tongue.”
“Ugh.” He slammed the paper bags on the counter and rubbed his pink-tinged cheeks. This time it was from the weather and not me. “It’s so fucking cold out there. The snow keeps piling up. It’s a blizzard.”
I took the topic change and ran with it.
I didn’t know how much he’d heard, and the last thing I wanted while spending the next few days with him and KC in the nice warm apartment was for him to be angry at me.
I leaned over the counter and cradled his face, noting how freezing his skin felt under my palms, and laid a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“We could be in sunny SoCal.” Flint threw a childish pout over his shoulder at me before his attention swung back to the woman in his chair.
He was dressed in black from head to toe today, but that wasn’t unusual.
I didn’t think he owned anything else. “How nice would it be in SoCal at this very moment?”
His client laughed. “Probably a lot nicer than here.”
“Right? He dragged me to this frozen hell.” Somehow, his Southern twang made the words sound even more damning.
I rolled my eyes. “Stop your bitching. Be thankful you have a good-paying job and you’re working on awesome tattoos like Natalie’s.”
Natalie, Flint’s client, beamed at me. Flint was currently inking her dog’s face onto her arm, and the art was colorful and bright, something he was incredibly talented at tattooing. He infused hues in the most interesting ways and gave his pieces a dreamy watercolor appearance.
Oliver shot me a pointed look. “What were you saying to Barber?”
“Me? Nothing.” I slid around to the other side of the counter and pinched his cheek, and he swatted angrily at me.
“I heard you. I don’t need you to defend me, Ren. The fantasy of having a dad is over. He ruined it and I accepted that. I’m an adult. I can handle his decision.”
His eyes told another story. If there was anything I’d learned about Oliver since I’d met him, he wasn’t great at accepting rejection.
Like the time I’d tied him up while I’d fucked KC.
He’d hit a difficult sub drop and panicked, and I’d realized how much I’d messed up.
I wasn’t going to let that happen again.
I wanted my partners to be happy, not miserable, especially not during sex.
“Maybe I wanted Luke to kick his ass for me. Maybe I don’t like the fucker.
” I smoothed my palm down his cheek. His skin was ice under my touch, so cold that guilt hit me for sending him out there.
I should’ve closed the shop today, but I’d thought I could get more clients in before it became unsafe to drive on the roads.
“Bullshit.” Oliver poked me in the chest. “I’m not a damsel in distress, all right?” He aimed for stern but looked like an angry kitten, and I was too weak to resist another kiss on his nose. He swatted again. “Oh my God, stop it.”
“What have you and KC done to our boss, Oli?” Wylie asked with a wicked grin. “You turned him soft. He gave us a Christmas bonus. He’s never done that.”
“Fuck you,” I shot at him. “You should be thanking your lucky stars I don’t fire your ass.”
“Please do it so I can go back to California.” Wylie rolled his eyes, earning a laugh from the woman in his chair.
“Oliver’s the only good employee here. He respects me.”
“I respect getting paid.” Oliver slid off his coat, and I helped him hang it on the rack. Inside was toasty, the heater sending warmth through the shop that made the windows fog.
“Betrayal from all sides.” I pouted at him.
“Says the one who called his brother to ask him to punch my dad.”
“He deserves it. He’s lucky I didn’t put out a hit on him.”
Oliver huffed as he opened the paper bags and pulled out sushi and chopsticks. He passed the container and utensils to me, then gave Wylie and Flint their orders. “You’d end up dead before you got to jail. The Kings would deal with you first. Not even Barber would save you from them.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard some things, Boss.” Flint leaned over Natalie, the buzzing of his tattoo gun filling the shop with one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard. There was something calming about the vibrations. “This city doesn’t mess with their one-percenters. The Kings have a reputation.”
Natalie made a noise of agreement. “My brother got into a fight over at Sinful. It’s a club owned by the Kings.
He said he was more afraid of the biker bouncers than the guy he fought or the cops.
He kept apologizing to them and even got on his knees, offering them cash to pay for the damage.
It’s the only time I’ve seen Neal nearly piss himself. ”
“Luke’s in the Kings. I’ll be fine. Even if he doesn’t want to save his little brother’s ass, he’ll remember his adopted sons love me.”
“Do I?” Oliver was quick today. I chuckled and slapped him on the ass. “Hey!”
“Eat, then practice.”