Page 53 of King's Barber
“What are you doing here? I told you KC’s busy, or I would have brought him to spend the weekend with you.”
“I was worried.” He grunted and crossed his arms over the hideous fur vest he liked wearing. Made of real bear fur, he wore it everywhere, and I absolutely detested it. Killing humans I could do, but not animals. They weren’t like people—they lived to survive and weren’t selfish or greedy. But Dad loved the sport of it. In another life he might have been a serial killer like me. “KC likes coming to see me, and this is the second weekend he’s canceled.”
He didn’t like visiting, but I also didn’t have the heart to tell Dad. “He’s busy,” I said bluntly, narrowing my eyes. “And if you’ve come to get him, he’s not here.”
“I don’t believe you.” He shoved his way past me, and I sighed, closing the door behind him. By the time I followed him into the kitchen, he and Luke were already having a stare-off. “Who’s this hippie?”
Luke snorted out a laugh and matched Dad’s stance. “Hippie?”
“Yeah, you know, those kids who wear leather and pretend to be cool. Drink organic shit and protest hunting animals.” Dad glared at him. He was about the same height as Luke, maybe a little shorter, but had a wider frame.
“Dad, you mean hipster.” I sighed and leaned against the kitchen island. “This is Luke, he’s not one of thosenewfound kidsyou like raving about. He’s a biker, one of the Kings of Men MC.”
“Oh well, then, that’s fine.” Dad laughed and held out his hand. “Name’s Roy Beaumont. How ya going, Luke?”
Luke raised his brows in surprise but took Dad’s hand and shook it. “Fine, thanks.”
“You my son’s boyfriend?” he asked.
“Dad.” I heaved a sigh and stepped forward, standing beside Dad and giving Luke an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about him. He lives on the outskirts and has no manners.” I nudged Dad and glared. “Apologize.”
Luke laughed and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I like a man who’s blunt. Probably why I like you so much.” He winked at me, and my heart skipped a beat. “And to answer your question, sir, this is all very new, but if I have it my way, I will be your son’s boyfriend. And if we’re being blunt, you’re not the type I’d expect to be accepting of your son being gay.”
I pursed my lips to hold in a laugh. My dad accepted a lot of things—me being gay and an assassin included.
Dad grunted. “As long as he’s not one of them vegans who preaches about killing animals, I don’t care if he likes singing kumbaya every morning when he wakes up.”
I raised my hands. Separately these two tried my patience, but together? No thank you. “All right, that’s enough. Luke, I will see you tonight at your party.”
Luke hesitated, like he didn’t want to leave, but finally he nodded and stepped near me, slanting his mouth over mine in a brief kiss. He raised his hand in a wave toward Dad as I walked him to the door. At least Dad didn’t get a chance to ask about Luke’s bruises and scrapes.
“Tonight, then?” Luke asked as he turned toward me.
“Tonight. What time?”
“Usually the party starts about eight, but we can make it seven? Get a good couch to make out on before someone decides to fuck on it.” His grin had me rolling my eyes.
“Fine. Seven.” I couldn’t resist another kiss. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and I tasted myself on him. Grabbing my ass for a squeeze, he pulled back with a mischievous smile.
“Can’t wait.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I watched him swagger his way to his bike, which was parked beside Dad’s bright fire-engine-red Ford truck. When he had his helmet on, he raised his hand in a wave and hit the ignition on the bike. The Ducati roared to life and he was gone, even if I could still hear the sound of the engine down the street.
I went back inside to Dad, who was bent over in the fridge, humming and aahing over something in there.
“Did you tell him he had jizz on his face still?” Dad asked.
I held in a laugh. “Why are you here? I was about to get laid.”
Dad straightened and turned with a Coke in his hand and then kicked the door of the fridge shut with the heel of his boot. He dropped the drink on the island and rolled up the long sleeves of his forest-green top before he sat at one of the chairs. “Innit the man you’re supposed to be protecting? That Barber guy.”
“Yes. And?” I dropped in a seat on the other side of the island and sighed. This reminded me of the time he’d sat me down to give me the talk when he found out I was dating Harmon Foley, a guy who lived down the road from our isolated house. Now Harmon was a weatherman on the local news. Nothing ever fazed Dad, and he took everything in stride, even having a gay son. He’d done research at the time, talking to “the local gays,” as he’d said, to get some information about gay sex so he could educate his son. It’d been embarrassing, but as I looked back, I realized I was lucky to have him.
“I thought you had a rule not to sleep with anyone involved with your assignments. Look what happened to Dean.” He popped open the can and took a chug of the Coke.
“He wasn’t involved in another assignment, he was a hitman,” I grumbled. I missed Dean in a way because I’d never had to lie with him, at least not until the Society told me to kill him. I’d protested at first, until I’d found out what he’d done. There were a lot of boundaries we could push as assassins and hitmen, but some rules weren’t meant to be broken. Killing a hitman’s daughter…. The thought made me sick, and I didn’t regret putting a bullet in his head.
