Page 69 of King's Barber
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” KC glared at me, his red hair a mess and his blue eyes full of a fury I hadn’t yet seen in him.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked, curious. “What did… your dad tell you?”
He snorted and crossed his arms, matching my stance. He was tall and wide for his age and nearly bigger than me. It was clear why he was a football player at school. “Enough.” He glanced at Oli from the corner of his eye. “I know what he does and why you aren’t talking, and I came to tell you that you’re an idiot. He didn’t sleep with you because it was part of the job. He fucking liked you a lot. He doesn’t care for anyone like that.”
“You’re too young to understand.” I shook my head and waved my hand at the glass door. “And your dad doesn’t want you here. He made it clear, so leave.”
His mouth parted and he stared at me like a kicked puppy. Dropping his gaze to the floor, he shook his head. “And here I thought you really liked Pa.”
“I did. Do. Fuck.” I sighed and ran a hand over my face. “It’s complicated.”
“What’s so fucking hard?” He stepped forward into my personal space and gave me a stare-down.
The corner of my mouth curved up into a smile. “Are you trying to threaten me?”
He huffed and poked my chest. “Listen, Pa likes you a lot. Trust me.” Another glance at Oli and he lowered his voice. “He didn’t sleep with you because your dad told him to, he had the hots for you. You broke his heart, Barber.”
“Sex doesn’t involve emotions, kid.” But fuck, I didn’t expect to grow any feelings when I’d first slept with Quain, and now it hurt to even think about the beautiful bastard. “You’ll understand when you’re an adult.”
“I’m seventeen. I know enough.” He glared when he took a step back and squared his big shoulders. “Because of you, Pa left New Gothenburg again and took another job in Pleasant Beach. If something happens to him, I won’t ever forgive you.”
“KC….” I reached for him, but he stepped back.
“And I thought you were cool. You’re just biker scum.”
Oli gasped, but KC spun on his heel and left through the door, trying to slam it shut behind him, but the hinges were made so it would close slowly. He glared at me through the glass and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
I sighed and moved back to the counter in front of Oli, leaning on it.
“Do you know who that was?” Oli bounced on his toes, face flushed and a dreamy smile on his face. “KC Beaumont.TheKC Beaumont.”
I cocked my head at him in confusion.
“He’s a football player at school. He’s a jock, but not a jerk like the rest of those dickheads. They don’t even really care for him, but he’s good at sports, so they want to talk to him. But that boy is fucking hot. Can you introduce us?”
I shrugged. “He’s Quain’s kid.”
Oli’s eyes widened. “The hairstylist? Oh my line-dancing God.”
I laughed because I couldn’t stop myself, but my gaze slid back out to KC. His scared expression had me moving before I knew what I was doing. He held the phone tightly to his ear, his face pale as he nodded and muttered something. I didn’t miss how watery his eyes were when I’d finally gotten out the door and stood in front of him. He ended the call just as I reached him.
“What’s wrong?” I grabbed his upper arms, holding him still. “What happened, KC?”
He stared at me, bottom lip quivering. “Pa was in an accident. He’s at Walnut Creek right now. His car rolled.”
“Fuck. Come on, I’ll take you there.” I didn’t wait for an answer. Fear had my gut clenching as I opened the door to the shop and said to Oli, “I need to go to the hospital. Quain’s been in an accident. Can you close this place?”
He nodded fast and grabbed my helmet and keys, passing them to me over the counter. I swapped him for my gun because as much as I didn’t want to give it over, they wouldn’t let me get into the hospital with it. “Of course. I’ll put the Ruger in the safe. Go.”
I guided KC down the street and toward a parking lot where the business owners paid to keep their vehicles. My bike was in the corner with a few other motorcycles. I turned KC toward me and slammed the helmet onto his head. He tried to protest but I didn’t allow him. There was only one, and it was going on him. If something happened to him, Quain would kill me, and probably in a way that’d hurt.
Jumping onto the bike, I said, “Get on.”
KC didn’t argue. Gripping the straps of his backpack, he slid onto the bitch seat. I grabbed his hand and put it on my waist.
“Don’t be shy, kid, hold onto me. Have you ever ridden one of these?” There was a difference between fixing and riding them, and I’d bet my ass Quain never liked KC on a bike.
He shook his head. “No. I only work on them.”
