Page 54 of King's Barber
“It doesn’t end well,” Dad said, raising his chin.
“Thank you for the lecture, Gandhi.” I rolled my eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” He gave me an inquisitive stare that I was used to getting. He was my sounding board now that Dean was dead. I talked about my assignments and asked for his opinion on things I’d done. If anyone knew about death, it was him. “You’re good at your job, Quain, but you’re still a lot like your mother. When feelings get involved—”
“They’re not,” I snapped. “We’re fucking, Dad. It’s about getting off, not feelings.”
“Really?” He waved the Coke at me. “That boy wanted to know about you. It’s why he was trying to hang around. He wanted to ask me questions, get to knowmebecause I’m your dad. I’ve seen it before, you know? I was the same way with your mother. When she finally told me what she did, and that being with her was dangerous, I didn’t care. I was head over heels.”
“Barber is a biker. They fuck, drink, and bribe. They don’t do relationships.”
“Ah, bullshit.” He took another long drink from the can and slammed it down on the counter. “They’re human beings, just like everyone else.”
“Why bring up Mom? She wasn’t a killer like I am.”
He shrugged. “She was, in her own way.”
“She was in pharmaceuticals.”
“And she made drugs for the US Army. They tested shit on soldiers that shouldn’t have been allowed for human consumption.” He glared at me. “She knew it was dangerous. It was one thing to make drugs to keep these soldiers awake for all hours of the day, but to create stronger men and women? They tried that before and look what happened. You get drugs like bath salts. When she wanted out…. Well, that’s when they came for her.”
“I know,” I growled out, slamming my hand on the counter. “I was there, Dad. I saw them kill her, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do, was there? I was stuffed in a closet while they slit her throat.”
His face softened and he placed his palm on my arm. “I don’t blame you, Quain. You avenged her death and killed those men later. Back then you were only seventeen. Nothing you could have done.”
My shoulders shook and I was caught between anger and sadness. Memories of her screams filled my mind, and images of her blood spread out across the floor of her and Dad’s bedroom still haunted me—but it also fed my need for death. I killed men and women who deserved it. After Mom’s death, and meeting Ardan, who directed me to the Society, I had a purpose, and I doled out my own kind of justice. I got to choose which assignments I took and which I didn’t, and I focused on the people searching for revenge.
Until Jeremy Booth contacted me. Luke had been an exception. Even now I didn’t know why I’d accepted the job. I hadn’t known Luke at the time. Sometimes I thought it was to spend more hours at home with KC.
“I know,” I said after a quiet moment. “She’s what drives me. I kill for her.”
He squeezed my arm and smiled warmly. “You’re strong like her, but I want you to fall in love, too, Quain. Like me and your mother did.”
“Luke doesn’t know who I am, Dad, and I want to keep it that way.” I placed my hand on top of his. “If he found out… he’d hate me for lying. I’m here because his father asked me to be, and Luke hates his father. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to kill me, and then I’d have to take him down. That’d only start a war with the Kings, and I’d need to move KC to safety. So no, he can’t find out.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
“Speaking about love, though, what happened to the lovely Mrs. Appleton? Last I heard she brought you a pie.”
Dad wasn’t the type of guy to blush, but he did at the mention of one of his neighbors. He laughed nervously. “It’s nothing.”
I leaned my elbow on the island and grinned. “Tell me.”
His laughter grew louder but his voice was low as he told me about her flirting. The poor man had a schoolgirl crush, and I could completely relate.
Damn it.
Later that night,after over an hour fussing with KC on what clothes to wear, I headed to the Kings’ clubhouse. I was used to hiding in the shadows, watching Luke from afar as he fucked random men during these types of parties, so this was unusual for me. With King’s suspiciousness, I needed to find a way to smooth over tensions, and that meant biting the bullet and being the sweet hairstylist Luke thought I was.
By the time I reached the clubhouse the party was in full swing, even though Luke said it didn’t really start until eight. Bikes and cars littered the front of the building, which still had bullet holes from a recent shootout they’d had here. I’d been there at the time, watching over Luke behind piles of scrap metal. I’d even shot a few Warriors, although the Kings had no idea.
Parking my car off to the side so no one could hit it while they were drunk, I stepped out and pulled at my wool jacket. Tonight was cooler than it had been in a while, and it’d rained in the afternoon, sending a chill through the night air.
I strode to the front door, which was already wide-open for guests, and stepped inside. Music pounded loudly, shaking the walls of the clubhouse. There was laughter somewhere to the right, but most of the noise came from the barroom. I walked past a few people making out, and a burly big guy—Jester, my mind supplied—was fucking a pretty brunet whore he always favored against the wall. I checked my watch: 7:10 p.m. Early, even for Jester, but the Kings’ VP was going for gold while the pretty Courtesan held on for dear life.
Rolling my eyes, I stepped in farther and glanced around the room, searching for Luke. I found him over by the bar talking to Josh, the bartender, and Josh’s boyfriend, another King by the name of Rogue. Striding past other club members, no one gave me a second look—except Undertaker, who stared with a kind of focused curiosity that had me on edge. If King was suspicious, of course Undertaker was, too. It took one killer to know another.
I reached Luke and touched his shoulder, and he spun around on his barstool.
