Joker (Executioners Book 2)

by J. M. Dabney

  The defensiveness took him by surprise. Wasn’t he just admitting to himself he was shocked by Dem wanting anything to do with him?

  “I am. If you fill me in, I’ll even put on a robe?”

  “I’ll confess to crimes I never committed.”

  “Joker, I’m your lawyer, I know all your crimes.”

  He listened to her bare feet shuffle on the carpet as she disappeared and returned a few minutes later.

  “So, tell me.”

  He turned his head to look at her and heavily exhaled as he tried to get his thoughts together. He proceeded to fill her in on everything from the smiley face pancakes to Dem parachuting onto his property.

  “Oh fake zombie Jesus, that’s so romantic.”

  “Why are all y’all saying how romantic it is? There’s gotta be something wrong with the man. I told him I beat my old man to death.”

  “Justifiable homicide, Joker. I worked my ass off to get your sentence commuted to time served. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get it completely expunged.”

  “You did what you could. I could still be locked up.”

  He sighed as he watched her sit down on the opposite end of the couch.

  “Joker, you’re not seventeen anymore being locked up with grown men. You sure as hell ain’t the same twenty-one-year-old that walked out of prison. Why won’t you give some man a chance?”

  “I’m damaged—”

  “Bullshit, Joker. I’ve dealt with damaged, I’ve defended every kind of criminal from small time petty shit to gangsters. Most of them had a reason for doing what they did. Ain’t my place to judge. Garnet was fucked up from the time he was born. Your grandfather kept him locked up out in the woods. No schooling. Didn’t teach that boy any morals and what did Garnet do? Did the same thing his father did and his father before him. Keeping yourself locked up in your trailer, with your strict routine and punishing yourself isn’t breaking the cycle, honey.”

  “What if I’m just like them?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I am? What if—”

  “You’re going to kill yourself with the what ifs in life. What if Mary was five minutes later or earlier, and Garnet missed her completely. That isn’t what happened. Garnet did horrendous things to your mother. I read the journals, introduced them as evidence at your re-sentencing hearing. What Garnet did to you was monstrous, and he got what he deserved.”

  No matter how many times someone told him it was justified, he still remembered all the times he’d fantasized about killing Garnet. Slow and as painful as every act Garnet had done to him. It didn’t change the fact that he lived for rage and violence—he didn’t know any other way to exist.

  “You’re thinking too hard. You’ve lived the life of a monk, honey, denying yourself the basic need of every human—touch. And I’m not talking fucking, anyone can have sex, I’m talking intimacy.”

  “I don’t know how to do all that shit.”

  “That’s because no one ever taught you how. Okay, Lawyer/Client confidentiality begins now, whatever we say goes nowhere, not even Gib.”

  He snorted. “You tell Gib everything.”

  “Not what happens between me and clients, so, talk to me, ask whatever it is you want to know.”

  “I’m not asking my lawyer for a fucking birds and bees lesson.”

  “I think it would technically be a bees and bees lesson.”

  “Quit busting my balls.”

  “Well, some people actually like that sort of shit.”

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t, you love me, Joker.”

  “I can’t…you know.”

  “Oh, that’s a common problem with men of your age. Well, my Gib never had the issue, man can still pound—”

  “No! There is nothing wrong with my dick. Fake Zombie Jesus, are you stoned?”

  “No, me and Lily didn’t meet up tonight like normal.”

  “Isn’t there some kind of law against stoner lawyers?”

  “I’m not that kind of lawyer. So, what is the issue if it’s not keeping it up for your man?”

  Joker should’ve gone home to his trailer. Dem would’ve been less trouble than dealing with Peaches. He groaned and dropped his head back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Soft, gentle fingers combed through his hair, nails soothingly scratched his scalp.

  “I can’t get passed what Garnet did.”

  “You’re probably never going to. We can ignore most of the emotional and mental scars we’re left with, but you have physical scars, marks that can never be healed or washed away. Do you think Demetri will be disgusted?”

  “He’s touched—”

  “Touched, oh, oh, why didn’t you lead with the he touched me portion of this painful Q and A?”

  “I don’t see how Gib hasn’t divorced you yet.”

  “Don’t be mean.”

  “That’s exactly it, I’m mean and violent.”

  “What happened the last time I had to come spring you from jail?”

  “That fucker from the feed store grabbed his wife’s arm. She flinched, and I saw other bruises.”

  “You’re like the Powers’ Vigilante. You see someone put their hands on their significant other or their children and you act. You hear a rumor, and you make a visit to warn them you better not hear another one. You’re nothing like Garnet. Is Crave like his old man, would he ever—”

  “I’d kill him first.” Crave kept himself away from Twitch for years because he feared he’d be just like his old man, but Crave was different. Crave was insane in a good way. He didn’t have that luxury.

  “He dotes on that husband of his. Twitch can’t get enough of Crave. You know what you’re going to do?”

  “What?” He was almost terrified to ask. He’s known Peaches for over twenty years. She’d stayed by his side through his worst. Took his case when his other public defender dropped the ball and let sixteen-year-old him be sentenced as an adult. Never once had that bastard introduced his medical records—years of abuse and torture.

  “You’re going to get your ass up and go home to your man.”

  “Not my—”

  “A man who has done all the things you mentioned for you, that is a man who if he isn’t yours, he wants to be.”

  “What if—”

  “Knock off the what ifs, Joker, we get limited time on this planet. There’s nothing after this. We have this one sometimes shit-stained life, and there’s no time for the regrets of what could’ve been. Love as hard or harder than the rage you think eats away at you. Replace that anger with passion and let yourself love and be loved on.”

  He remained silent as he rolled his head and looked at the maternal look on Peaches’ face.

  “And, Joker, there’s something you’re forgetting, or it may never have occurred to you.”

  “I’m scared.”

  She chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  “You need control, a comfort zone, why not play a little game with your man? Mental foreplay is sometimes more erotic than touch. It can be a little sexting, maybe a dirty midnight phone call, or better yet—”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “Go home, ask your man to strip and tell him exactly what you want him to do for you. A little voyeurism can keep things interesting, and you can see how your man touches himself, what he likes before you ever have to lay—”

  “I’m out.” He surged from the couch with the crazy woman cackling behind him.

  “Joker, please, just think about it. You need to ease into the touching and what better way to learn about your partner than knowing what he likes. Maybe he doesn’t want a gentleman or someone who’s had the world handed to him—maybe he just wants you. I love you, Jackson, as much as I love Landon and the rest of my adopted children. You’re as much a part of my heart as any of them. Remember that, and don’t ever forget, I didn’t give birth to you, but I’ve considered you mine for over twenty years.”

  “Th—thanks
, Peaches.”

  “Anytime. Now, go home and see Demetri.”

  He nodded and bent to give her a quick hug, then pulled away and rushed for the door. It was easier to let Peaches, Lily, or Harper touch him, even if he kept the contact brief it was still hard for him to accept or give affection. With men, it was damn near impossible. He was shocked by how easily he’d let Dem touch, kiss him, and sit on his lap.

  He hopped into his run-down pickup, started the engine and took off toward home. Killer huffed in his pocket. He was killing her routine and his.

  It wasn’t a long drive, and he slightly regretted the briefness of it. He pulled in the driveway beside the shop and saw his trailer. The windows were dark. He wondered if Dem had even come there. No sign of a strange vehicle. He turned off his truck and got out, he slammed the door.

  He pulled the latch, it wasn’t locked, and pulled it open, ascending the three metal steps. He dragged Killer out and bent to set her on the floor. She instantly ran to the one small bedroom. The street lights illuminated a naked man in the middle of his bed. Dem’s pale, rounded ass exposed. The sheet bunched around Dem’s bare thighs. Dem was laid on his stomach, but with his left leg bent to the side. Killer took the steps he’d built at the end of the bed for her. She barely paid attention to Dem as she curled up against the man’s side after she made several circles to get comfortable. He ducked into the tiny bathroom and stripped off quickly, then stepped into the cramped shower stall.

  He efficiently washed, not lingering anywhere. The quicker he cleaned, the more he was able to ignore the scars under his hands. He stepped out and dried his body roughly. Stepping out into the dark main room, he was thankful for the darkness and the fact he didn’t see Dem wake up when Killer laid down beside him.

  When he entered his room, he turned to the left to open one of the built-in drawers.

  “Don’t.”

  He jerked his gaze to find Dem’s eyes open, illuminated by the outside light.

  “Lay down with me. Nothing between us.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Probably not, but please, just once.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out roughly. Turning, he put his right knee onto the bed and laid down behind Dem. He shivered at the soft, smooth skin pressed fully to his hairier body. He hadn’t thought about manscaping before in his life, but wondered if—

  “Fuck, you feel good,” Dem whispered.

  There was an odd tone in his voice. He’d heard it before from the people he called friends. It was reverence—need. Dem didn’t try to turn toward him, simply lifted Killer and pulled the sheet over them, then placed Killer on top.

  His dog didn’t even move.

  He laid his arm over Dem, and the man sighed and scooting closer to him. He held still as he waited for the fear. The accustomed rage to rip through him. He didn’t know how to feel when neither emotion came. He couldn’t remember a time he’d slept with anyone. He knew everyone assumed the truth about him, although, no one dared say it out loud.

  His old man, his grandfather, they hadn’t understood the word no, the same thing that happened to his mother happened to his grandmother too. She’d committed suicide. There hadn’t been another way to happiness for her. No other escape. She’d ran away so many times, and his grandfather always dragged her back. His childhood had been filled with nightmares. Even if there was a small sliver of a chance that he was like them, he wouldn’t give in.

  “Relax and quit thinking so hard, just go to sleep.”

  Dem relaxed, and he tried to follow suit, he had to be up in four hours to start his day. He wasn’t a selfish man, and he didn’t require much in life, but tonight he wanted to be selfish. To understand what his friends always talked about. Dem couldn’t be his, but one moment of selfishness of his thirty-eight years couldn’t hurt, right?

  TEN

  Dem Was Looking Forward to a Spanking

  Five, four, three, two…

  He counted down and didn’t even get to one before he heard Jackson’s gruff bellow through the order window.

  “What the fuck is this shit, I didn’t—”

  “Watch your mouth, Joker,” Heidi yelled.

  He cackled from the kitchen as he scraped down his grill and waited for the mid-morning rush. For some reason, they had a lull between eight and nine a.m. and it was always the time Jackson showed up.

  “Hire a competent cook next time. He can’t even get a damn order right.”

  Jackson was asleep when he’d left the man’s home earlier. He’d almost called in sick. When he’d woken to Joker coming home last night and asked him to sleep naked beside him, he hadn’t expected the man to say yes. It had been years since he’d slept beside a naked man. His ex was a pajama bottoms and t-shirt to bed kind of man. The man had also been slick skinned. Years of manscaping—one stray hair and his ex lost his damn mind. Oh, but not Jackson, and his man was sexy as fuck.

  Before he’d left to go to work, he’d taken the time to study every inch of Jackson exposed by the pushed down sheet. The sheer amount of scars had brought tears to his eyes. They were a part of Jackson and as horrific as the damage was, the man was perfection. Lean, powerful muscles under hair-roughened skin covered in thick black hair. The sight of the perfect seven-inch uncut cock in a thick nest of pubes was mouthwatering.

  “Dem!”

  He smiled sweetly as he stuck his head through the window.

  “Hello, baby, you bellowed?”

  His man was too cute when he glared and silently threatened bodily harm. If he didn’t get a spanking out of this one, he didn’t know what else to do.

  “What the hell is this shit?”

  “That’s your breakfast.”

  Along with Jackson’s customary six pancakes, he also made the man scrambled eggs, home fries, and bacon. The man didn’t eat enough, and his diet was sorely lacking.

  “This isn’t what I ordered.”

  He almost cackled like a madman at the disgust on Jackson’s face. He couldn’t get over it…the man was adorable.

  “Eat it.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Eat it anyway, and I made you lunch to take to work. No arguments. Do as I say.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I hate you more.”

  “You coming home...to the trailer tonight?”

  He didn't miss the slight pause and turned as he heard Heidi gasp, he smirked at the shock on her face. He winked at her and turned his attention back to Jackson.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “It was a fucking yes or no question, not an opening for an interrogation.”

  “You should know all about interrogations. But to answer your question, yes, I left my stuff there.”

  Heidi sounded like she was going to choke to death.

  “That's why I asked. I nearly tripped over it this morning when I got up. Should I set it on the steps for you?”

  “Baby, you're going to hurt my feelings.”

  “I must try harder since I don’t seem to be succeeding.”

  “Do I have to come out there?”

  “No, stay your ass in the kitchen.”

  He snorted as Joker used his fork to push the second plate away and then tore into the stack of pancakes.

  “Both plates better be empty before you leave here.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Are you three?”

  Heidi gave up the pretense that she wasn’t paying attention and ran into the kitchen loudly laughing when Jackson flipped him off. He straightened and turned to find Heidi wiping tears from her face.

  “What am I going to do with him?”

  “I have no advice for you, Dem, you picked the meanest man in town.”

  “But he’s so adorable, Heidi.”

  “You need to get out more.”

  “I get out plenty. You’re going to have to take him this when he pays.” He picked up the metal Beast Lunch box he’d picked up
while Jackson was away. “It’s his lunch.”

  “I’m not taking him that!”

  “Why not?”

  “What about him being the meanest man in town didn’t you get?”

  “It’s all show.”

  “Dem, all kidding aside, you do know about Joker’s past, right?”

  “I know what I need to know, and unless he wants to tell me more, I don’t need to know it. So, I’m going to take my future grouchy husband his lunch.” He hooked the handle of the lunchbox on one of the grips and made his way out of the kitchen.

  “I was told you were crazy, but I didn’t believe it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, one little incident at Pride involving no clothes, rainbow streamers, and a clown nose and I’m forever known as crazy. “

  He approached Jackson’s table with a grin on his face. “Hello, Handsome, do you come here often?”

  “Before you showed up, I had an enjoyable and blissfully silent breakfast.”

  He slammed the lunch box down on the table. “There’s your lunch,” he said as he eased onto the seat opposite Jackson.

  “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

  “Nope. Made it special just for you. Also, there’s extra in there for Killer.”

  He’d noticed Jackson’s habit of feeding Killer some of his lunch until she was full, and then Jackson would eat the rest. Jackson was covetous of the things and people he considered his. He wondered how many years Jackson went without things and people all his own? He hadn’t missed the obsessive neatness of Jackson’s surroundings and the way he was protective. He couldn’t deny he wanted to belong to Jackson.

  “Extra for Killer?”

  “Yep.”

  “Th...thanks.”

  “You want me to bring dinner when I come?”

  “Naw, I'll get some steaks to throw on the grill.”

  The chime over the door signaled the lull was over. He pushed up on his crutches but didn't leave before leaning down and giving Jackson a quick kiss. As much as he longed to linger, he didn't want to make the man uncomfortable.

  He headed back to the kitchen. Taking his perch on the rolling bar stool he used to move around the kitchen. It wasn't ideal, but he wasn't ready to find another job. He loved cooking and knew he could start catering…he just didn't want to give into his body...his limitations yet.