by Sam Crescent
“Do not underestimate the power of a good book bashing.” She didn’t hit him hard. Joker took the book from her fingers, throwing it into the center of the bed. “That’s no way to treat books.”
“Dad tells me you’re seeing your shrink again.”
Amy closed her mouth then opened it before closing it again. What could she say to that? There was no point in lying. “Yes.”
“The nightmares? They’re back?”
“Mom’s dead; I was struggling. But I’m dealing with things.” She grabbed her pillow and placed it over her lap. This is what she hated about Joker. He saw everything. He saw every little detail to her very soul of what was wrong with her.
“It’s about him again, right? You’re dreaming about him.”
Her heart started racing. What was he referring to? Did he know about her father? “This isn’t any of your business.”
“He’s dead. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, he’s dead. Bruce, your father, he’s dead.” He said with a stoic, hard expression on his face.
Amy jumped up from the bed, pacing the short distance of her room.
“He’s dead?”
She didn’t know how to cope with this information. Yes, her family knew about her going to therapy, but they hadn’t known about the why behind it all. Why was Joker even telling her this? Wait, how did Joker know? Her mother kept everything a secret for so long. “How do you know anything about this?”
“I have ways of finding out.”
“Are those ways through that club?”
Joker tensed up. “I love my club, Amy, they’re good men.”
“You’ve just told me that my father is dead. How the hell did you even know about him, find him, and know what happened? These are not questions I should be asking you, Reese.”
“No, these are the questions you should be asking me.” He stood up, advancing toward her. She took a step back, but he came at her again. Her back hit the wall, and Joker just kept coming.
He placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her against his hard body and the wall.
“You’re not going to get rid of me. You know who I am. I’m not Reese anymore, baby. My name is Joker and I take care of the people I love. I love you, and I had to end the fucker who made you afraid of life. That is what I do.”
“You’re a murderer.” It wasn’t a question.
He didn’t say anything to deny it.
“He’s gone, Amy. That bastard is never coming back to lay a finger on you. He’s dead, and he died screaming and begging forgiveness.”
Tears filled her eyes at the image he created for her. She didn’t want to know this or even think about what he’d gone through. The bastard had hurt her more than anything.
Relief swamped her as it suddenly dawned on her that Bruce was never going to knock at the front door. He’d never show up at work. His ghost wasn’t lurking around a corner waiting to take the life from her.
He was gone; it was over, but what did it mean for Joker?
What would happen when the cops found out? Would he be taken from her, too?
Eloise bagged the last of the groceries for her customer and handed her the receipt. “Thank you for shopping at Markam’s; please come again.” She leaned against the wall behind her, so tired from working a double shift today, but having no option. She didn’t make a lot of money, not as a cashier at the small grocery store in town, and although she had never seen herself doing this for a career, not everyone got their dreams in life.
She could see her reflection in the reflective window across from her, the “Boss’s Cage” where her pig of an employer, Hanson, sat all day. She assumed he just watched everyone work while he claimed to do paperwork. Eloise could feel his eyes on her all the time, and although she hated feeling like this while working, it was a necessary evil. Unless she wanted to leave Markam’s and start over, making even less than she made now, quitting because of her creepy boss wasn’t even an option.
The bell on the front doors dinged as another customer entered. It was almost nine in the evening, and although they closed in about ten minutes, there was always that one person that waited until the last minute. She turned, about to greet the customer in the generic, almost robotic way she was trained to, when her voice stalled and her whole body tensed recognizing who it was. The man that stepped through the front doors was huge, muscular and tall, and deadly-looking. He looked like a killer, a gorgeous, hardened killer that had her thinking of very inappropriate and sick things. This wasn’t the first time she had seen the man who called himself Steel. And the leather biker vest he wore told her he was part of the outlaw biker gang in town, The Soldiers of Wrath. The memory of his last visit played through her mind, and although she thought wicked things concerning this man, things that were perverted and made her feel dirty, she had turned him down when he had so blatantly and lewdly asked to take her home.
No, not asked. Practically demanded she give up her body to him.
He moved through the store, his gaze locked on hers at every available opportunity. He watched as he went to the fridge section and grabbed a couple of cases of beer. When he went over to the locked case that held the cigarettes, the sound of the manager’s door opening had her turning and looking at Hanson. He was only in his thirties, and although he wasn’t much older than her twenty-eight, he had the whole “Creepy Pervert” look going on. His dark hair was greasy, combed over to the side, and his face was riddled with old acne scars. It wasn’t his appearance that disgusted her; it was his attitude and clear disrespect of her and women in general that did it. She had lost count of the number of times she had heard him speaking on the phone, coarsely talking to what she presumed was a woman, and the disgusting things he said to them.
“Eloise, can you explain to me what this is?” Hanson asked in an annoyed, slightly raised voice.
She glanced at the man named Steel, and had this uncanny feeling that he was aware of everything going on behind him, even though his back was to her while he continued to scan the shelving of cigarettes. The sound of Hanson slamming a piece of paper down on the counter in front of her had Eloise looking down at the form and knitting her brows. It was an order form for paper goods in the store, and although she dealt with ordering things from time to time, this was not on her.
“Can you explain why there were two cases of paper towels, toilet paper, and napkins ordered, yet there is only one case of each accounted for?” Hanson asked, his beady black eyes staring at her with annoyance and interest.
“This isn’t my signature, Hanson,” she said and placed her finger next to the name who signed the order form. “Robert ordered these, and he isn’t coming back from his vacation until next week. You should probably take this up with him.” She glanced over at Steel again, took in the way his dark hair was on the longer side, how his biceps were so thickly corded with muscles, and the tattoos that seemed to cover every square inch of his arms.
“I don’t care whose signature it is, you were working with Robert on this.”
“No, I wasn’t, Hanson.”
“Listen, Eloise,” he leaned in, and she moved an inch back. The scent of fast-food wafted from him and when he smiled, flashing his crooked and yellowed teeth, she felt her stomach roil with disgust. He reached out, picked up a small lock of dark hair that fell over her shoulder, and made this gross sound deep in his throat.
“Back off, Hanson.”
He ignored her comment. “I think you’re wild, aren’t you, Eloise? I bet if we got you naked and took off those glasses you’d be the naughty librarian—”
Hanson’s words were cut off when Steel pulled him away from Elise so quickly she hadn’t even seen him approach. He didn’t throw Hanson on the ground, but he did toss him aside with enough force that Hanson stumbled backward and caught himself before he fell.
“When a woman says back off, you back the fuck off, man.” Steel said in a hard,
commanding, and take no shit voice. “Being a motherfucker to women is going to get your ass handed to you and your body six feet under.”
Chills raced up her arms and legs at the deadly calm voice that came from this outlaw biker. When Hanson stumbled away and back into the manager’s office, Steel turned back around to face her. His leather vest showed a patch of his biker club, and a small patch that said 1%er. She didn’t know what that meant, didn’t plan on asking either. This man scared her, but there was also a part of her that was aroused that he had stood up for her, pushed Hanson away as if he were nothing more than a nuisance, and now stared at her with this possessive gleam in his eyes.
“He bother you like that often?”
She licked her lips and glanced away. “It’s okay. He’s harmless for the most part.” She looked at him again. “Thank you for that, by the way. You didn’t have to step up and help.”
He picked up the cases of beer he had set aside to help her and then put them on the conveyer belt. He also grabbed the two bottles of whiskey and set them beside the beer. She was nervous as she checked him out, because she could feel his gaze on her, intent and strong, and it had her hands shaking. Once he paid, and she had the items bagged, she glanced at him again, saw the way his dark eyes were still trained on her, and didn’t understand what it was about this man that had her so on edge. It wasn’t because he was violent and dangerous, or that he was associated with the biker gang. It was simply him, and that scared the shit out of her.
He grabbed a slip of paper off the register, took the pen on the counter, and jotted something down. He handed her the paper, and she stared a down at it. “If that little fucker bothers you again, you call me, okay?”
She stared at him and then looked back at the number he had written down. She didn’t know what to say, how to respond. So she just nodded and watched as he gave a deep gruff as if he liked her response and then left.
Amy breathed heavily as she stared up at Joker. He was so close to her, keeping his body right in front of her and blocking any escape, if she had planned to do that. The wall was cold behind her, and she placed her hands flat on wallpaper, feeling her heart race and her nerves go on high alert.
“We aren’t going to talk about any of that, Amy,” he leaned in closer. “We aren’t going to bring up that motherfucker’s name ever again, because he is dead, literally and figuratively. You understand?”
She was scared of Joker, of the man he had become, even though she knew he’d never hurt her. He was just menacing, so big and strong, watching her like he wanted to devour her. He also had no problem in killing anyone that stood in his way, or as it turned out, had hurt her. A part of her should have been disgusted and horrified that he had murdered her dad, but the truth was that she wasn’t. Amy actually felt this intense relief fill her, felt like he had just done something for her that showed how much he loved her. And Amy loved him, God, did she love him, but she also thought she could never be what he needed or wanted.
His scent was strong, powerful, and faintly hinted at his wild essence and the aroma of motor oil. She loved the combination and actually felt her eyelids flutter as if they wanted to close on their own.
“You are scared of me.” He didn’t phrase it like a question.
“I am,” she said on a breath, not knowing why she had admitted that.
“I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.” And she did, with everything inside of her.
“I’m a dangerous man, Amy, but with you I feel this lightness inside, a calm and ease that makes me want to just hold you and protect you from this fucked up world.”
She didn’t respond for a few seconds, just reveling in the feeling the heat of his body, his scent invading her senses, and feeling truly protected by his nearness. “I don’t think I can be what you want me to be, Reese.” She swallowed hard, hating to say the words, but knowing he needed to hear them.
“And what is it that you think I need you to be, Amy?” Reese asked softly and lifted his hand to run his finger over her cheek.
“You want me to be like those women you are with, the one I saw you with all those years ago.” She closed her eyes, imagining that night, the domination that had flowed from him in waves. Maybe he wasn’t like that anymore? Maybe he didn’t like that kind of hardcore sex anymore? Amy didn’t know, but she had a feeling his desires were just as powerful as they were back then, if not more so.
He stared into her eyes, didn’t respond, and didn’t move for several seconds. And then he surprised her by leaning forward and placing his lips on hers. The kiss wasn’t forceful, wasn’t demanding. It was soft and gentle, and she actually relaxed against him and opened her mouth. It felt good, really good to have him so close, kissing her and smoothing his finger over her face. He pulled back, kept his hand on her cheek then rested his forehead on hers.
“I don’t want anything from you that you’re not willing to give, baby.” He cupped the either side of her face. “I just want you, and we can work through whatever issues you have with this.” He pulled back, the hardness coming back on his face. “Because I want you, and I won’t leave you this time, Amy. I want you as my woman, and despite your fear, I know you want me just as badly.”
Joker pulled away from the woman he loved and saw her glistening tears. “I’m going to spend some time with dad and leave you alone for a little bit. I’m not going away, Amy. We’re in this together.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, rejoicing when she kissed him back. “We’re going to work through this together.”
“He’s really dead?”
“Deader than dead, baby.”
“And you’re not going to be put away for his death?”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to be put away for anything. I promise you. Everything is in the clear. I made a deal with some guys at the club.” He stroked her soft cheek, wishing she hadn’t been hurt before. Joker would gladly take her to bed and make love to her but she wasn’t ready.
“Your club scares me.”
“The club keeps me sane, Amy. They’ve kept me grounded for a hell of a long time.”
“But they kill people and I don’t know if I can handle that.”
He held her head between his hands, staring down into her eyes. Compared to him she was so small, delicate, and soft. Joker knew he’d have to take care of her, love her with every part of him when he finally got her. She was the only woman he’d ever loved and even though he’d fucked plenty of women in his time, none of them ever compared to this sweet, delicate woman in his arms, even though he had never slept with her.
Fuck, he was a goner, and he’d never actually tasted her. He didn’t have the first clue about how tight her pussy would be, or the sweetness of her cream as she came on his face. Amy was his woman, had always been his, and yet there was so much for him to learn about her, and learn, he would.
“Without them, Amy, I’d have been dead long ago. I couldn’t have you. We didn’t do anything that night all those years ago, yet I knew I’d hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself. When I met Demon, I was dying inside. You’re my life, Amy. The club is part of me, and I love them like the brothers I never had. Trust them the way you trust me.”
She placed her hands over his. “I’ll try.”
“You’re stronger than that asshole, baby. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. We can do this and we’re going to do it.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, but this one far more demanding than the other. “I’m going to speak to my father. Get some sleep and I’ll join you soon.”
He eased her away, making his way out of the room before closing the door behind him. Resting his body against the door, he stared up at the white ceiling with the single light bulb glowing down at him. His cock was rock hard, begging for him to go back into Amy’s room and fuck her.
Not now. Take your time and give her a chance.
If he walked back into that room to her frightened screams, he’d regret it. The only screams he wanted to hear were h
ers calling his name in utter pleasure.
Joker forced himself to remember that night their kiss got out of hand, the way she’d fought him as he led her back toward the bed. All of it came crashing down around him and cut off all his pleasurable thoughts. His cock deflated and, after taking a deep breath, he left her door and made his way downstairs.
His father was waiting for him at the table.
“I made you a coffee; I figured you’d need it.” He pointed to the cup on the table.
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to be staying awhile?”
He glanced over at his father, seeing his slight weight loss along with his grief. The loss of his step-mother had hit his father hard.
“Yeah, I’m staying. I’m going to lay my cards out here, Dad. When I go back to the clubhouse, I’m taking Amy with me.”
“Reese—”
“No, don’t cut me off. I mean it; Amy’s mine. She has been mine for a long time. You know this.”
“I promised Brenda when I married her that I would always keep Amy safe. I can’t let her down. Amy’s all I’ve got of Brenda now.”
“I killed him, Dad.”
Silence fell between them. Staring at the man he’d loved his whole life, the same man he admired and respected, Joker waited for him to speak. His father, and even Amy, could call him Reese, but he wasn’t Reese anymore, he was Joker, VP of the Soldiers of Wrath, and he wouldn’t change. So much had happened in his life that he didn’t even know if it was possible to change. The only thing that had remained the same was his love for Amy.
“What?” David asked.
“I killed him: Amy’s father, the fucker who ruined her childhood and put her into years of nightmares and therapy. He’s gone, and he’s never coming back. You don’t need to protect her anymore. Amy’s protection is my job. It’s time for you to go out and find someone for yourself.”
David cut him off laughing. “What the fuck has happened to you, son?”
