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Ghost (Executioners Book 1)

Page 11

by J. M. Dabney


  “Fine, if that’s what you want.”

  “I know you’re joking, but whatever happens between us is always mutually consensual. I just want to make that clear. I don’t care if we’re friends or lovers, you always have the right to tell me no.”

  She nodded, and he kissed her.

  “Let’s go get ready, you want to shop local or head out to the highway and hit the big grocery store.”

  “Probably cheaper to take the road trip.”

  “Alright, let’s get moving. Steak and baked potato is all Joker will eat.”

  “He’s so picky, six pancakes, lots of butter, minimal syrup every day for breakfast. Peanut butter sandwich for lunch, dinner meat and potato, no dessert.”

  Which he found weird, he’d watched Joker stare longingly at Ben’s pastry display more times than he could count, but only ever orders a black coffee. He’d heard the story about when Twitch baked Joker a cake the first time, and it ended up splattered against the kitchen wall, Joker had disappeared for days after that. There were strict rules when dealing with Joker. Don’t come up behind him. Don’t touch him—ever. Don’t bring him sweets. He wondered how the man would handle a present. If things went bad, both puppies would stay with them.

  “His mom made him a birthday cake before she disappeared on his sixth birthday. She hadn’t been able to afford decorating icing, but she had some pink icing leftover from a cake she’d made for a friend’s daughter. His dad beat them both, smashed Joker’s face into the cake and called him names. Said he had a son, not a daughter.”

  He didn’t know what to say, but it all made sense. He’d seen the whip marks on Joker’s lower back when Joker had stripped out of hoodie not long after he’d moved there. He’d pretended he didn’t see them and then the stories made the rounds when it was discovered he was friends with Joker. There was no reason to repeat them, it was Joker’s business. Joker’s pain to share.

  “Joker used to talk to me when he’d bring me home from the hospital after Bill’s attacks, and he thought I was sleeping. I’ve never told him I heard every story. Joker deserved to be able to talk them out, even if he thought he was confessing every nightmare to a sleeping woman.”

  “He’ll be fine. He’ll love his present. Joker needs something to come home to.”

  It was all they said when he helped her to her feet, and he got up so they could go get ready for the trip to pick up supplies. They were going through groceries quicker with the two of them.

  They’d make dinner for Joker, see if he’d like to crash there so he didn’t have to go home to his tiny trailer. Maybe even if Joker said no to the puppy first, an evening around her would make him want to take her home. If not, there was always Harper’s option, break into his place and leave it for him. Either way, Joker was getting a friend.

  Seventeen

  Was Joker Actually Smiling?

  The dishes were done, dried and put away, leftovers were put into storage containers to go home with Joker. She knew he ate most of his meals at Heidi’s Diner. It was home cooking and comfort food, it also got him out of his place for a bit. Joker was as anti-social as they came.

  She scooped Joker’s puppy up and held its tiny face inches from her own. “Okay, you’re about to meet your new Daddy, so we’re going to have to have a talk.”

  Tiny eyes blinked rapidly, long lashes fluttering. For being as cute as it was, the puppy had an evil little personality. Not bad, just a bit on the mischievous side already.

  “Be an asshole, be his spirit animal, be an asshole.”

  She jerked her gaze to the door as she heard laughter and found Gideon filling the doorway, empty beer bottles in his hand. She lowered the puppy and cringed as her face went up in flames.

  “I’m going to start keeping a tally of every time you cuss.”

  “Kiss my ass.” She snarled her nose and narrowed her eyes.

  “Fuck, that was sexy, we’ll definitely do that kissing your ass thing later.”

  She tried to keep a stern expression on her face, but it fell when he went all Groucho Marx with his waggling, thick brows.

  “Stop, I’m trying to prepare the puppy to be Joker’s spirit animal.”

  “I think it already is.”

  She shook her head as he stepped into the room, threw the bottles in the glass recycling bin and headed for the fridge. He made a detour to kiss her cheek before going to grab more beers. She brought her attention back to the mission at hand and dressed the puppy in her new shirt and secured the goggles around her neck covering the black studded collar. While Tiny, her puppy wore a hot pink one with peace signs on it. Subconsciously she must have known which puppy would be Joker’s early on.

  “Come on, before Joker decides to sneak out while we’re not looking.”

  “He wouldn’t do that, he’s on beer six, and he never drives after four,” she said as she straightened the shirt and goggles once more. A micro dog fit for a biker.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, he’s drinking more because he’s going to crash here tonight. I changed the sheets on the guest room bed before he got here.”

  “He’s been drinking more than usual lately.”

  “His birthday is coming up in a few months.”

  She picked up Joker’s puppy from beside the care package she’d already made for Joker to take with him. Puppy milk, a few extra bottles, puppy food, toys, everything Joker would need to start off with. They’d started giving them puppy food softened with milk every other feeding now. Another week, they’d be strictly on regular food. She was looking forward to no more bottles every three to four hours.

  “I’ll grab Tiny.”

  She nodded and walked ahead of Gideon and out onto the back porch.

  “What the fuck is that,” Joker demanded.

  “Yours, here.” Harper went all in and placed the puppy in his hands, then stepped back.

  “What the hell do you mean mine? What the fuck do I want with a rat?”

  “It’s not a rat, it’s a puppy.”

  “That’s not a goddamned dog, that’s a fucking ankle biting yipping thing.”

  “Well, too damn bad, she’s yours and needs a name.”

  “I’m not taking it, Harper.”

  Joker tried to thrust the puppy back at her, but she held up her hands.

  “No, it’s yours, you need something that’s yours, don’t make me fucking cry.”

  “What the fuck are you cussing for,” Joker shouted and turned his attention over her shoulder. “This is your damned fault, she was perfectly sensible before she hooked up with you. Now she’s giving me rats!”

  Harper glanced at Gideon to find him holding his hands up with Tiny cradled in one and backing away. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Joker.

  “It’s not a rat, she needs a home, and you need something to come home to, so you’re taking her. Now name her,” she ordered.

  “Why is it wearing clothes?”

  “They get a bit shivery, so you’ll have to cuddle with her.”

  “I don’t fucking cuddle, Harper.”

  “Now you do.”

  She stormed back into the house, grabbing Gideon’s shirt as she went and tugged him inside with her. She rushed to the window to stare outside and see if Joker was bonding or trying to hide his puppy and escape.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m watching him to make sure he listens to me.”

  She noticed Gideon taking the spot beside her at the sink. Tiny cradled in one arm and he wrapped the other around her waist, pulling her to his side.

  “What’s he doing?”

  “He’s looking at it like it’s going to explode at any second.”

  “You know he hates routine change, and now you’re giving him a micro friend.”

  “I just want him to have something that makes him happy.”

  “I know you do, Harper, you just need to give him a few extra minutes to process.”

  “I am.”

  S
he impatiently watched as Joker had a stare down with the dog that barely filled his palm. Joker’s lips were moving so she knew he was talking to it or cussing her. She smiled as the puppy lowered her head to her tiny paws, then her little butt rose, and she knew the growling started. Her eyes widened as an actually smile curved one side of Joker’s mouth.

  “Oh damn.”

  “What, what’s happening,” Gideon asked, and then he was behind her.

  “Is Joker smiling?”

  “Joker smiling is never a good—”

  Joker grabbed the puppy and shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie, with only the puppy’s head sticking out, then he disappeared.

  “Where is he going?” She lifted on her toes to try and track his movements.

  “He isn’t going to take it to the woods and leave it, is he?”

  “I hope not, I better go—”

  Gideon’s laughter cut her off, and his chin rested on the top of her head. She was handed Tiny, and Gideon held her to him.

  “He’s fine, he’ll take a walk and process. You know he needs some time alone when he has a decision to make. He would have left her behind if he didn’t want to take her.”

  “Did I do the right thing?” She was suddenly feeling insecure about her belief Joker needed something his own. “I just want him happy.”

  “He’ll be fine, baby.”

  “Thank you.” She sighed and leaned her head back against his chest.

  “What are you thanking me for?”

  She turned, placed Tiny on the floor, and she waddled off with a disgruntled huff. Harper leaned back far enough to be able to meet Gideon’s gaze.

  “Everything. You didn't have to bring me here from the hospital. You didn't have to be nice to me or take care of me.”

  She leaned in and laid her cheek on his chest, and she listened to the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers drew soothing patterns on her back, and she relaxed against him. Gideon treated her like she’d always wanted to be treated.

  “What the fuck is wrong with it,” Joker demanded.

  She popped her head up to find Joker holding out a whimpering unhappy puppy.

  “Is it broken? Did I fucking break it?”

  “She wants a bottle.”

  “Bottle? You gave me a high maintenance rat?”

  “She’s not high maintenance or a rat.”

  She poked a laughing Gideon in the ribs, and it only made his guffaws louder. She pushed out of his arms and ignored Joker’s complaining and Gideon’s amusement as she set Joker up with a bottle. The corners of her mouth twitched as Joker bitched under his breath.

  “You going to make yourself useful or just stand around laughing all night?”

  “I’m going to check on the orchids that came in today.”

  “Okay.”

  Gideon kissed her as he passed and Joker made gagging sounds, so she kicked his shin. Joker had done that all night any time Gideon showed her affection. Which was a lot, so she was surprised Joker hadn’t puked yet.

  She watched Gideon until he disappeared down the hallway toward the front door.

  “You look good, Harper.”

  She barely heard Joker speak.

  “Thank you.”

  “He treats you good, right? He doesn’t…” Joker stopped talking.

  She knew what he wanted to know. Did Gideon treat her different? Did he hurt her? She knew every painful and humiliating detail of her best friend’s life, even if he didn’t know it. How Joker survived amazed her.

  “He’s gentle with me, Joker, I promise.”

  “Okay, but if he isn’t, you’d tell me? He’s my friend, but you’re my best friend.”

  “I promise I’d tell you.”

  She loved Joker, most people in town probably thought they’d had something going on for years, but Joker’s hang-ups were worse than hers. She couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him outside the instances where they put him in cuffs and dragged him off to jail.

  One second she reassured Joker that Gideon treated her right and the next she was plastered to the kitchen floor with Joker’s heavy body on top of hers. That’s when her brain registered the sound of gunshots and glass breaking.

  “Gideon.”

  Fear had his name breaking on her lips. Bill was an expert marksman. Was Gideon okay? Was he hurt? Terror and guilt took her throat in a chokehold. She’d brought Bill there; to Gideon’s home.

  “If he’s smart, he’s hunkered down.”

  “He’s in the greenhouse, not a lot—”

  Before she finished speaking Joker was crawling across the floor, Tiny and Joker’s puppy shoved inside a carrier.

  “You got a place to hide here?”

  “I can go to our room. Gideon’s walk-in closet exits to the upstairs hallway.”

  “Take the carrier, stay low, I’ll go save your man’s ass. Call Pelter, then Linus.”

  She sharply nodded her head, she crawled across the floor and pushed the carrier in front of her until she reached the stairs. The enclosed space gave her cover. She ran up the steps with the puppies protesting being jostled. She crouched down to avoid being seen through the floor to ceiling picture windows. She ducked into the closet and slammed the door behind her. She crawled to the back, shielded by Gideon and her clothes.

  She put her fingers through the thick wire of the crate door and tried to soothe the puppies. In turn, she tried to take comfort in the warmth and softness of their fur. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her dress and called 9-1-1 and listened to the ringing. She rambled on, talking about everything and nothing. More shots made her jump. An operator picked up, she gave them the information they asked for and requested Pelter.

  When they asked her to stay on the line, she hung up and called Linus.

  “Trenton,” Linus gruff voice came over the line.

  “Linus, Bill’s here. Shots fired. Joker and Gideon are outside.”

  “Slow down, Harper, are either of them armed?”

  “Joker’s a felon, and Gideon doesn’t have a gun as far as I know.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In Gideon’s closet. There’s a hidden exit to the upstairs hallway.”

  She listened to Linus talking to someone in the background, it sounded like Little and Liv, two members of his team.

  “We’re headed your way. You stay in the closet. Stay quiet. Stay low.”

  “But—”

  “Honey, we’ve got your man covered, don’t worry. You got the cops on the way?”

  “I called and requested Pelter.”

  “Don’t make a sound until you hear one of us calling you.”

  “O…okay.”

  She didn’t want to hang up, but she had to be quiet, needed to keep the puppies calm. Adrenaline ebbed away, and panic took over. A steel band circled her chest. Her breathing became nothing more than useless gasps for air. She couldn’t black out. She wouldn’t black out. She was stronger than that. Closing her eyes, she tried to find her happy place, a picture of the fields during a rainstorm started to form. She worked up from the thick mat of grass, rows upon rows of vegetables, and fruit trees. Gideon stood center stage. His ginger hair wet and the smile she liked to think of being all for her curved his mouth.

  The pressure of her chest eased, but didn’t go away; it was enough, though.

  Sirens blared in the distance, there were no more shots since she’d called 9-1-1. It didn’t mean Bill wasn’t still out there, waiting for more targets. Bill was just like his late uncle, the former Sheriff, except his bigotry was fueled by self-hatred, the fear that people would know what he was. She listened to muffled shouts, she couldn’t make out the words, but the emotion in them was rage.

  As much as she wanted to run outside and find Gideon, she did as Linus ordered. She closed her eyes tighter and forced herself to wait. Gideon was okay. He had to be. She just needed to wait until it was safe and she could see for herself.

  Eighteen

 
; This was Supposed to be her Safe Place

  Gideon quickly grew tired of the EMTs probing superficial cuts he’d gotten when a few panels of his greenhouse exploded. He’d ducked for cover in time to avoid a bullet, not so much the glass. Unfortunately, Joker took one to the shoulder, and they were threatening to sedate him. Harper was doing her best to calm him down enough for the paramedics to at least take care of it. Joker’s touch aversion was making his need to be a patient impossible.

  “Man, I’m fine, I don’t even need stitches, just knock the shit off,” he growled.

  He just wanted to get to Harper. She was distracted by her job as Joker’s Keeper for the moment, but soon it was going to hit her. He needed to be there when she needed him.

  “Percy, take a walk.”

  He’d never thought he’d be happy to hear Pelter’s voice, but right then he’d kiss the man. Okay, maybe not.

  “Thanks, Cam.”

  “What the fuck happened, I can’t get any answers while Joker is threatening to break the arm of anybody who touches him. Harper is trying to calm him down, so I can’t get a statement.”

  “I don’t know much other than there were gunshots and windows exploded.”

  “Bill?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but it’s a pretty damn good guess. This was supposed to be Harper’s safe place and—”

  “Don’t start blaming yourself. We’d been waiting for this. Although, I wasn’t expecting a shootout.”

  “Shootout implies we were able to shoot back.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Linus called a friend of his, we got some guys bringing out some plywood to cover the windows. We didn’t know what to do about your greenhouse.”

  “In the morning, I’ll get out and get some new panels. It was only a couple. I got some plastic to cover them. Everything should be fine until then.”

  He stood, and moved around Pelter and headed in Harper's direction. Pelter walked beside him. Thankfully, the man didn't talk or attempt to interrogate him. He stopped behind her. Normally he'd embrace her and tug her back to him, but after the night they'd had he erred on the side of caution.

 

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