Joker Joker (The Deuces Wild Series Book 2)

by Irish Winters

  What a flirt.

  “Copy that.” He rapped his knuckles to the table as he left her sitting there. Tucker might have something to say about the plan Tate had just cooked up with Truborn, but he wasn’t worried. In fact, he felt damned good for the second time today.

  Strolling back to Winslow’s room, he ran into Dr. Keegan in the hall. “Hey, Doc. Anything wrong?”

  Keegan’s brows lifted when he looked up from the clipboard in his hand. “What? Oh, Agent Higgins. Hi. No, everything is actually quite good. Miss Parrish is in dialysis. I know you want to see her, but give her a few hours.”

  Tate scrubbed a hand over his chin, not sure how far he could get with all that doctor/patient confidentiality Keegan was supposed to be shielding Winslow with. “How’s she doing?”

  “I understand you ignored my advice and stayed overnight with her?”

  “I did.” No sense in lying.

  “She’s much better today, but I’m afraid she’s still defending her mother,” Keegan warned.

  “Sometimes the truth is best delivered in small doses.”

  Keegan nodded. “I’m afraid the news I delivered this morning packed more of a wallop than I intended. She’s quite naïve to the ways of the world, isn’t she? I wasn’t expecting that in a woman her age.”

  Tate bristled. “What’d you tell her?”

  The doctor stared at him for a full minute before he admitted, “That I’m almost positive she doesn’t have cancer.”

  Tate’s fist instinctively clenched. “She doesn’t?” I knew it. That bitch!

  Keegan clapped a hand to Tate’s shoulder. “Take it easy, but, yeah. I’m not seeing any markers. I’ll run more tests to be certain, but I think it’s best if we slow the information download for now. Miss Parrish seems to be struggling with her new reality. When I left, she was near tears.”

  That hurt Tate’s heart, but Keegan’s dumping that thunderclap of truth on her should’ve been done in Tate’s presence, not when Winslow was alone. “Would you mind inviting me the next time you talk with her? I mean, if it’s okay with Winslow.”

  Keegan nodded. “Sure. She’s one of the rarest women I’ve ever met. She’s lived in a bubble all these years, but she’s a fighter. Did you know she’s pretty much home-schooled herself? That worthless mother of hers couldn’t be bothered to enroll her. How many kids these days would’ve done that?”

  That explained the stacks of books in Winslow’s bedroom, but Tate didn’t like that Keegan knew things he didn’t. “She told you?” A prickly itch commenced under Tate’s skin.

  “Yes, we had quite a long talk. I feel bad dumping on her like I did.” Keegan shook his head in a pensive way, staring at the wall as if his mind was somewhere else. “Yes, quite a remarkable woman.”

  Tate rolled his shoulder and swallowed hard, the urge to hit something creeping up on him. “So what do we do now?”

  “Well…” Keegan paused. “I’d like to keep her a couple more days for testing and observation. Once I release her, she’ll need to see a good nutritionist and begin building a life for herself. I’ll call social services to see if—”

  “No,” Tate growled. “Winslow’s not going into any system.”

  “But where will she go once she leaves the hospital?” Keegan peered intently into Tate’s face. “I know people, professionals who do this kind of thing for a living. She needs adult interaction and a balanced education, not more of the same crap her mother dished out. What would you suggest?”

  Tate’s heart told him she could live with him, but his brain kicked into gear, and he knew he had to be smart for Winslow’s sake. She needed her life back, not his idea of what that life should be. Intimacy was out. Maybe Keegan had a point. “Some kind of a halfway home? A group home?” Some place where you won’t be.

  Keegan nodded. “I know of a couple that are highly rated and would suit her situation perfectly. They’re for young adults who’ve been rescued from abusive situations, and most of the staff is female, including the on-site counselor. I’ll make a few calls, and see what I can come up with.”

  Tate had to swallow his pride. He had no business feeling predatory where Winslow was concerned. She wasn’t his. “Okay.”

  Keegan nodded curtly as if he’d solved world hunger. “Your turn. What’d you find out about her mother?”

  Tate leaned a shoulder to the wall. “We haven’t caught up with Hattie yet, but her buddy, Dr. Bly, is behind bars down at the precinct. I’m headed there once I touch base with my boss.”

  Keegan’s eyes lit up. “Agent Chase?”

  “Yes, have you seen him today?”

  “No, but last night he struck me as a damned good guy to have in your corner.”

  You have no idea. Tate glanced down the hall to the elevator planning his next move. “Where’s the dialysis center?”

  A smile curved Keegan’s lips even as he sighed. “Fifth floor, second door to your right. You can’t miss it.”

  Tate didn’t intend to miss it. Tucker Chase could wait. Winslow couldn’t.

  She stared at the ceiling while strangers came and went around her. Most were nice and kind, but Winslow didn’t know any of them. She was lost and tired and alone. Tate hadn’t come back to see her before the male nurse wheeled her to dialysis. Her entire world had been jerked out from under her like a dirty rug.

  Recrimination beat a steady drum roll in the back of her mind. So many lies! How could you have been so stupid? Were you born yesterday? Why didn’t you try to figure things out sooner?

  Because I was sick! She had no other answer, just guilt for being a lousy daughter, and, although it made no sense, for believing her mother. A good daughter would’ve believed her mother—wouldn’t have any reason not to. Somehow, this was Winslow’s fault. She knew it to her soul.

  A sloppy tear broke loose from the corner of her eye. Quickly, Winslow staunched the flow with the back of her hand before more could get away, but damn. She no longer knew anything for certain. Her world was a joke, and she wanted Pepe and Tate. They were the only two that made sense.

  But what did she get? Something called a laparoscopic surgery that ended with a catheter inserted in her abdomen, so the dialysis machine could clean her blood. It was all too much! If she hadn’t needed one of those Xanax things before, she certainly needed one now!

  The door to the eight-bed dialysis center cracked open, and her head swiveled automatically in hope, but two nurses entered. Not Tate. Another tear trickled down the side of her head. Winslow blinked it furiously away, but the pretty nurse came to Winslow’s side. “How are we doing, hon?” she asked, her tone filled with compassion. “You look tired. Can I get you anything?”

  Winslow shook her head, needing this day to be over with. Tested to her limit, she had nothing left to give.

  The nurse brushed the back of her hand over Winslow’s cheek. “My name is Jane. Don’t worry, Winslow, we’ve done plenty of treatments before. It won’t take much longer. You’re one of the lucky ones, you know.”

  Winslow spared her a quiet, “I am?”

  Jane nodded. “You bet. See that little girl over there? The one with the pigtails?” She pointed two beds down and across the room. “That’s Portia Meta. Her family just arrived from Turkey. Portia has complete renal failure.”

  That was another thing. Winslow was tired of feeling ignorant every time she turned around. A copy of Merriam-Webster would’ve been nice. “What’s renal failure?” she had to ask.

  “Kidney failure. Portia’s on the waiting list for a kidney transplant.”

  Winslow swallowed her pride, embarrassed that she’d acted badly when others were in worse straits. “How old is she?”

  Jane tucked Winslow’s blanket in around her shoulders. “Nine and a half. She’s a cutie, isn’t she?”

  Portia was that and more. Long dark hair tied back in pigtails. Dark eyes. Olive skinned. She was the epitome of womanly beautiful, not little girl cute. She lay sedately on her pillow with h
er hands clasped together while a dark-haired woman, most likely her mother, sat in the rocker next to the bed reading to her.

  “Is there a limit to how many times she can, umm, get this treatment?”

  “You mean dialysis?” Jane patted Winslow’s hand. “She’s young and she’s still fairly healthy, so she’s got time. I imagine she can have as many treatments as she needs. Elderly patients have the most problems with dialysis. But I hear you’re only in here for this one time?”

  “Hey there,” Tate said as he ducked around Jane.

  She winked and stepped away, and Winslow couldn’t latch onto his hand fast enough. “You came.”

  He stepped to her side and his fingers stroked her arm. “Of course I came. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she lied, her heart pumping hard. “It’s just been a long morning.” And how.

  He leaned over the side rail, a tender smile in his eyes. “Breathe, Winslow. You’re safe. I’m here.”

  The weight of the world lifted up from her at those simple two words: I’m here. But he probably had better things to do. “Th-thanks for stopping by.”

  “There’s no place else I’d rather be.” His fingers drifted up to her head. “You like the beanie?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “It keeps me warm.”

  A shadow darkened his brow. “Dr. Keegan told me you don’t have cancer.”

  All she could do was close her eyes, nod, and fight back the incredible sense of betrayal.

  “Don’t cry, Winslow.”

  But how could she stop? The dam was breaking. There was no way one woman could hold back years of lies and tricks and… murder!

  He tipped his forehead to hers. “Do you need me to hold you, baby?”

  Yes! She looked at him then. “You’d… you’d do that for me?”

  “In a heartbeat. Just say the word, and somehow, I’ll wiggle my big butt inside all these wires and tubes and…” He scrunched his nose. “And I’ll keep you warmer than you’ve ever been in your life.”

  He made her smile. There, in her pit of self-pity, Tate made her smile with that silly picture of him wiggling his butt to get into her bed. “It’s not big.”

  Those delicious brows crinkled. “Have you been looking at my ass?”

  Her smile turned into a genuine chuckle. “O-kaaaaaay…” She stalled, the tension uncurling from her shoulders. “I admit it. I sneaked a peek when we were making popcorn.” And I liked it.

  Tate winked. “If it makes you feel any better, I sneaked a peek at yours too.”

  Another giggle. “Mine’s so skinny,” she breathed, her cheeks heating right before his eyes.

  He shook his head. “Looked just right to me.”

  “I’m serious, Tate. Thank you for coming. I was...” Just about to meltdown when you showed up. “…tired.”

  “I’m surprised they haven’t given you anything to help you sleep.”

  “I don’t want to take any drugs, not ever again.” The truth poured out. “My mom lied, Tate. I don’t have cancer. I never did! How could she do that to me? All those pills and powders, and the shots and…”

  He nodded. “I wish I’d been there when Keegan told you. He should’ve waited.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I want to go home, only I don’t know where home is any more. I don’t know where I belong.” I’m… I’m lost, Tate. I need Pepe. And you, but I don’t want to scare you while all this—bullshit—is scaring me.

  He placed the softest kiss in the middle of her forehead. “I’ve got a home movie to show you.”

  “What am I going to do?” she whined, her panic on the rise. “I don’t have a job and my mom’s a criminal and… Tate. I don’t even know what Xanax is! What am I going to do, huh?”

  He blew a short puff of breath into her face to get her attention. “First, you’re going to relax. Take a deep breath.” He inhaled, his shoulder lifting as if he needed to show her how it was done.

  She mimicked him, thankful for his warm hand over hers.

  “Second,” he said, “you’re going to learn how to stand on your own two feet, and you’re going to go to school and get an education. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

  “Well, umm... yes.” She licked her lips, not sure what she wanted. As weak as she’d always been, it was easier to let her mother run her life. Not like Winslow had much choice, but now that she did? She ran her tongue over her dry lips. Life was moving frighteningly fast, and the bright light on her horizon she’d once wished for seemed to be a speeding train.

  He leaned into her face just long enough to brush a kiss over her cheek. “You don’t have to eat the whole elephant all at once, Winslow. I’m here to help. Trust me. Take a deep breath and breathe. In. Out. We’ll figure things out together, and we’ll do it day by day, one problem at a time. I know you, and there isn’t a thing you can’t do once you set your mind to it. All you need to do right now is rest and heal. Let me take care of the hard stuff for a while, then, when you’re ready, it’s all yours, okay?”

  That almost sounded like he planned to stay. She nodded, her panic in check. “But you’ll tell me what’s going on, won’t you? You won’t hide anything from me? You won’t, umm, take my, umm…” Why did everything have to be so hard? “…independence?”

  He had the nerve to tease her with a sexy wink. “There’s my girl. That’s the Winslow I saw on the water tower two nights ago. And no, I won’t take your independence. Wouldn’t think of it. You get to make all your decisions from now on, deal?”

  Damn. Could she handle that kind of responsibility when she hadn’t known what renal failure was two minutes ago? What was she thinking? “Well, maybe you could be like my advisor or something?”

  He tapped the end of her nose with his fingertip. “I’d rather be your friend.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she exhaled and let the stress slide off her shoulders. “Thanks, Tate. I’m sorry I’m so wired. It’s just that—”

  “It’s just that you’ve never done any of this before, and some adventures are scary, huh?”

  Winslow nodded. “She drugged me when I was a kid. Maybe even when I was a baby. Who does that?”

  “Your mother’s a very sick woman, and we need to find her, but you…” He lifted his cell phone for her viewing pleasure. “…need to see Pepe first.”

  Ah, there he was, her Honey Munchkin starring in his own home movie. She latched onto the phone and Tate’s hands to see better. “Aw, look, he’s playing with a sock.”

  “Wait for it…” Tate teased, his cheek next to hers.

  Sure enough, a little boy came into view on the hardwood floor, then another. Then a big German Shepherd that looked like a skyscraper compared to her baby. Pepe rolled to his back and barked, but not like he was scared. More like he was feeling rowdy. When the big dog bumped noses with Pepe, the race was on. Pepe flipped onto his paws and dug in, running circles around the Shepherd’s long legs while the little boy squealed, “Go get ’em!”

  “Look at him. He’s happy,” Winslow murmured. “Oh, good. I was worried. Where was he?”

  Tate growled. “Your mom gave him to Ike. Do you know him?”

  Winslow shivered. “He’s a creep. Did he hurt Pepe?”

  “A little, but Pepe’s fine now. My buddy Harley’s taking care of him until you’re better. Those are his dogs and boys playing with your baby dragon.”

  That made Winslow smile. My baby dragon.

  “So here’s the deal,” Tate whispered. “Doc Keegan knows a halfway house for women in your situation. I Googled it and it looks like a nice place, but...” He dragged that word out.

  She lifted her gaze from the antics on the cell phone to him. “But what?”

  “But you can’t have dogs there, and I think you’d feel better living somewhere safe and warm with your own little fire breathing dragon in bed with you at night, right?”

  She nodded, daring to hope. “Can I stay with you?”

  He winked. “Trus
t me, I’ve thought about that, but you need to explore the world before you make a big decision like that. In fact, I think you’d be happy living where Pepe’s living. Harley and Judy would love the chance to get to know you. What would you say to moving in with them once you get out of here?”

  “Are you sure?” Were there people in the world who’d do that, take a stranger in?

  Tate’s dark eyes gleamed. “Absolutely.”

  The kindness of strangers overwhelmed Winslow. “I hate this,” she admitted, fighting back more tears.

  “What?”

  “I hate what Mom did to me. I’m helpless, and I’m stupid, and most of the time I don’t know what anyone’s talking about, and it’s all my fault!”

  His forehead wrinkled. “Shush, baby. Just shush. You, Winslow Parrish, are not stupid, and none of this is your fault. Don’t ever say that again. You knew something’s been wrong all these years, and now you’re going to prove just how smart you are to the whole damned world.”

  “But how?” Here she was hooked to a machine, wearing a flimsy hospital gown, and homeless. She didn’t even know where her clothes were.

  Tate lowered one arm alongside her pillow, his nose nearly touching hers. “It’s your time to fly, Winslow. The only one holding you back now is you. Are you brave enough to let go of what was, and look forward to what can be?”

  Now that he put it that way…

  “Ah-huh,” she whispered, all of her fears put to rest in the hopeful glimmer in his eyes

  “Go on, say it,” he teased, bumping his chin to her nose.

  “Say what?”

  “You know. Say that good luck word, the one you’ve been living to tell that she-troll who abused you for years.”

  Winslow caught the word he’d used. Living instead of dying. He’d made her believe in herself from the second he’d caught hold of her on that water tower. The tiniest smile curved the corners of her mouth. “You mean bullshit?”

  Tate’s face cracked with the most glorious smile. “That’s the one. Let it fly, baby.”

  “Bull-shit,” she said in two very distinct syllables. “It’s my new favorite word.”

  “It’s almost as good as mine” His eyes went dark and hazy, his voice low and rumbling.