“You are such fools to think you could outsmart me.” Esteban yanked Daisy harder against his side.
“Let her go.” Joker raised the bag higher, but still out of reach. “And it’s all yours.”
“I’m wondering if you know about your sweet Charlie,” Esteban taunted Joker. “I hope you didn’t think you were special.”
“Shut up.” Joker ground out. Esteban calling her Charlie made the act much easier. Joker knew this bastard’s game, and he’d be happy to play along. He didn’t give fuck all about the money as long as he saved Daisy.
“Just in South Beach alone, there must’ve been—dozens.”
“You’re lying,” Joker moaned, lowering his head, shifting forward slightly.
“I don’t blame you.” Esteban shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to hear the truth either, but the fact is, she’s a whore.”
“I said, shut the fuck up.” Joker twisted his wrist, then fisted the strap.
“But better you know now what a slut she is then later.”
“Don’t call her that,” Joker’s voice cracked, and Esteban’s thin lips curved into a sneer. Like a lizard gearing up to nab the fly.
“You know it’s the truth.” His calm, soothing tone belied the psycho in his eyes.
Joker slumped in defeat but kept a firm hold on the strap of the bag, and when Esteban reached for it, Joker twitched his wrist, slamming the bag into Esteban’s gun. Daisy pivoted as the money scattered and the gun thudded against the wood deck. Esteban paused for a second, eyeing the money, and Joker leveled his gun seconds before the sleezeball grabbed Daisy, using her as a shield. Typical move for a slimy shit.
“I know you won’t pull the trigger because, for some reason, you care about this slut.”
“This is what you want.” Joker bent down and shoved the money back into the bag, then held it out to Esteban as an offering. “Let her go, and it’s yours.”
“And then you shoot me in the back.” Esteban huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think so.” He nodded to the couch next to him. “Put the money here.” He shifted to the right with his arm tight around Daisy’s waist, then bent over to retrieve the gun. In a split second, Joker gauged the space between Esteban and Daisy, contemplating the odds of hitting him and not her. Joker never missed, but the rocking of the boat and the shadowy dawn made the stakes too high.
“Put your gun down,” Esteban ordered, pressing the barrel of his gun against Daisy’s temple. “Nice and slow.”
Joker wanted to look away, wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening. They’d finally found each other, admitted their feelings, and it could all end with a sudden jerk of Esteban’s finger.
“I said, put your gun down.” Esteban’s low rumble echoed with rage.
Joker had to keep his shit together and play this out. He raised his arm with the gun palm out, then he flipped his wrist, angling it down in a show of surrender. He slowly bent and laid his gun on the deck, then placed the bag of money on the couch.
Esteban squeezed Daisy tighter around the waist and ordered. “Pick it up.”
A flock of seagulls squawked overhead, and Daisy flinched.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Joker held her gaze for only a second, but it was enough. She bent to retrieve the money then paused, and Joker charged slamming his fist into Esteban’s temple. It stunned him enough for Joker to pry Daisy free and push her onto the couch.
Joker landed another punch, and the gun slid across the deck. Esteban dove for it, fisting it until Joker tackled him from behind and slammed his wrist against the teak decking over and over. Esteban’s crazy gave him supernatural strength. Still gripping the gun, Joker twisted his wrist, and the gun went off as it echoed through the cabin.
Joker whipped his head in Daisy’s direction to make sure she wasn’t hit, and Esteban used that second to roll away from him and scramble to his feet. Daisy yelled a warning as Esteban staggered and struggled to level the heavy weapon, his good hand supporting the one Joker smashed.
“That’s enough, Esteban.” Lizbeth stood at the staircase leading to the lower deck with a shotgun cocked and ready. “Put the gun down nice and slow.”
“You don’t have the guts to shoot me.” Esteban laughed. “Because you’re weak, just like your son.”
“Do not mention Javier,” she said in Spanish.
“Did you know that with his last breath, he begged and pleaded with me not to shoot him?” Esteban sneered. “He actually cried like a baby.”
The shotgun exploded, blowing Esteban flat on his back. He struggled to push himself up and then collapsed against the teak decking with an expression of shock frozen on his face.
Lizbeth calmly lowered the gun and examined Esteban’s prone body. “Finally, my son can rest.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fuck! Lizbeth was badass, just as Joker thought, but now they had a body on their hands. Not that this situation was new to him, and not that Esteban didn’t deserve getting blown straight to hell, but now they had to get rid of the stupid fucker.
Lizbeth and Daisy took charge of the crew quietly, giving orders in Spanish, flooring Joker with their professional calm. He’d seen six-foot guys freak out at the sight of a dead, bleeding body, and yet these women worked together and took care of business. Fuckin’ crazy, and even better, one of them was his girl. Yeah, his girl.
He pulled Daisy to him. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Somehow, Esteban knew exactly where we were.”
“Amazing how good intel is when two hundred thousand dollars is involved.” He held her at arm's length, looked her over, and pulled her to him again. “Scared the shit outta me when I came up and saw him pointing that gun at you.”
“I’m fine, really.” The way she clung to him made him doubt her words. “Esteban thought he was getting to you.” Her voice sounded flat, emotionless.
He eyeballed the money. “I would’ve given him every fuckin’ dollar if—”
“I know.” She stroked his face, and the sadness in her eyes confused him. Scared shitless, sure, but sad?
He looked her over again just to make sure. Being held at gunpoint by a maniac would make anybody shaky, even a tough girl like Daisy.
He guided her over to one of the deck chairs. “Sit for a minute. I wanna check everything out.”
Going into clean-up mode, Joker pulled out one of the stacks of the banded money, then hopped onto the dock, and did a quick surveillance of the area. Boats on each side of them empty. Didn’t even look like crew on-board. He looked up and down the pier. Nothing. He jogged to where the dock veered off to the left, but there was no one. Perfect. No nosy neighbors, but even nosy neighbors could be quieted with the right incentive. Money could get people to believe that the noise they heard was a car backfiring, or a television playing too loud. Most people were greedy fuckers, who didn’t give a shit about the truth as long as there was something in it for them.
Back on deck, Lizbeth and her crew muttered in Spanish as they wrapped Esteban’s body in a plastic tarp and whisked him below deck. He guessed this wasn’t the first body they’d ever handled, and Esteban would soon be fish food in the bottom of the Atlantic. The women of South Florida amazed him.
One crew member was washing down the area where Esteban fell, while another hosed off the teak flooring. Calm and thorough, making it look like their usual morning routine of boat maintenance. Joker checked out the front of the boat, and when he was satisfied everything was in order out there, he returned to the main cabin. He did a mental playback of the last few minutes in his head, but something didn’t add up.
Joker came up behind Daisy, and when he touched her shoulder, she flinched. Still jumpy and not as calm as she wanted him to believe. He took her hands in his and pulled her to him. She gazed up at him, wary and on guard.
“What were you doin’ up here so early all dressed?”
She sucked in her lower lip, and his heart slammed against his ribs. Her one tell that always meant bad new
s.
“We shouldn’t have come this far together.” She swallowed hard like the words were choking her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You should’ve taken the money in the hotel room and gone back to New York.”
“Coming to the Keys and setting up Esteban was your plan. At first, I wasn’t all with it, but it did make sense.”
“I’ve lost my edge.” She sighed. “Because of us, I couldn’t make it work, and you almost got your head blown off.”
“Could’ve, but that didn’t happen. So what the hell are you talking about?”
“Now we have a dead body on our hands.”
“And you’re sorry that fucker got blasted? That’s all the more reason we can stay together.”
“How exactly do you see this playing out?” Daisy stepped out of his grasp. “You have to think of your son. You can finally get the life you talked about. All the things you wanted for him can come true.”
“I want you included in all that.” He reached out to her, but she leaned away from him.
“And if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then, we’ll think of something else.” He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “You can’t run forever, babe. Sooner or later, you gotta stop.”
“Don’t you understand? Leaving you is the only way I can survive.”
“I don’t buy it.” He shook his head. “This is one you’re not gonna be able to pull off ’cause now I know you. You put up barriers, I get it, but not this time.”
“Joker,” Lizbeth’s voice called him from below deck.
His eyes shifted to the stairs, then to Daisy. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything. Or that pushing me away isn’t the hardest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever done?”
They stood staring at each other, her face expressionless, but not her eyes. No, her eyes were a mirror of the torment in her head—a tornado of emotions, turning and twisting her up inside.
Lizbeth called for him again, but he refused to leave her until she admitted the truth. Admitted she cared for him as much as he cared for her.
Her eyes flickered shut like she knew they were giving her away. “Yes, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Joker?” One of the mates poked his head into the cabin. “Lizbeth needs you below.”
He pushed her down on the leather couch. “I get you’re freaked out, but we’re gonna figure this out.” He leaned down, cupped the back of her head, and attacked her lips. When he broke their connection, he pointed his finger at her. “Don’t move.”
Joker headed for the stairs, then looked back at her. Fuck, she was beautiful, and he got that she was scared, but somehow they’d work it out.
Below deck, Lizbeth called to him again. He followed her voice, finding her and one of the deckhands deep in the bow of the boat. They stood by a commercial freezer. He sincerely hoped his food from last night hadn’t been stored there.
Of course, a deep freeze was necessary in the Florida heat. They hoisted the tarp containing Esteban’s body into the freezer. By tomorrow, he’d be a frozen dinner in the bottom of the Atlantic.
Joker went back up on deck and zeroed in on the couch where he’d left Daisy no more than ten minutes ago. Empty. He stormed through the cabin and out onto the deck, but of course, she was gone. He squinted against the rising sun, but the dock leading through the marina was empty too. Daisy, the great scammer, knew how to make an escape. Quick, cold, and without a trace. A cut so clean it took a few seconds to feel, but even then, there was no blood, no mess, just emptiness.
He fished the burner phone out of his pocket and dialed her number. Of course she didn’t answer, and of course, it went straight to voicemail. He punched in her number two more times and got the same message. He didn’t even get the pleasure of hearing her voice, just some automated recording. The third time, he left a message. He wasn’t even sure if what he said made sense. The phone disconnected and he squeezed it, half expecting it to disintegrate under the pressure. He fought down the urge to pitch it into the bay with the vague hope she’d listen to the message, then reconsider and call him back—or just come back.
Daisy fled the minute Joker went below deck. She couldn’t be there when he came back. It hurt so much to leave, but it would hurt way more if she stayed. Giving him a chance, giving them a chance was too big of a gamble with too much at stake. He didn’t see it now, but she was doing him a favor. He’d understand in a month, a few weeks, or maybe a few days, and then he’d realize how right she was to walk away. She regretted not having a formal goodbye with Lizbeth, but she would make sure their paths crossed again. They’d had a way of finding each other.
Most of her life centered around conning people and taking their money. Now, she easily left the money behind, knowing it was worthless. A symbol of everything that had gone wrong from the beginning: A con jinxed from the start with no winners, only marks. The stakes catastrophically high with fatal risks that promised nothing but heartache and disappointment.
Daisy looked over her shoulder a few times, but no one followed her. A mix of relief and disappointment simmered through her. Unlike the last time, she was truly alone and on her own—again.
Her phone buzzed, and she yanked it out of her pocket. Joker and Lizbeth’s numbers were the only ones she’d saved, and she knew it wasn’t Lizbeth. She stared at the number, then declined the call and the two calls after that one. Seconds later, the message bubble popped up. She hit the Playback icon and listened.
“Come back. We can work this out.” Joker’s deep rumble filled her ear. “I’m scared, too, baby, but just call me back or just … come back.”
The feelings they’d shared, the way each of them weakened for the other almost cost them their lives. Her handling Esteban wrong, and Joker dropping his guard earlier to check on her when Esteban’s gun fired. Those two seconds allowed Esteban to get the drop on him, and if not for Lizbeth, one or both of them would be dead. Joker still had to rescue his son and settle the score with Digger. Way too much to take care of without her as a distraction. All her fantasy stories were just that—fake, unattainable dreams, but maybe … just maybe. Yes, there was only one thing left to do.
She hit the Playback button again, and Joker’s disjointed message pulled at her. He sounded desperate, and the anguish in his voice admitting he was scared almost broke her. She listened to the message once more, mystified at her tough biker putting it all on the line. Her finger hovered over the screen as the Call Back button tempted her, silently coaxing her.
When the temptation became too strong, she pivoted and pitched the burner over her shoulder. The clear, crisp splash of the small metal device hitting the water gave her closure. A finality that this part of her life ceased to exist.
It took a few long minutes until Joker’s brain caught up with his heart, and logic told him she wouldn’t be calling him now or ever. A sobering, crushing thought that outweighed everything else. He went back into the cabin and eyed the bag of money. The fuckin’ money—senseless and useless. Esteban was willing to kill for it, and if not for fate, Daisy could’ve lost her life over it, and yet there it sat, unclaimed and worthless.
He didn’t want any part of it. A strange thought for an outlaw who’d spent most of his adult life fighting and clawing for power and money, but now it meant nothing.
The phone buzzed in his hand, and his heart kicked up until he saw the number.
“Don’t think you’re gonna get away with keeping that money”—Digger rasped into the phone—“’Cause I’ll hunt you down.”
“Come at me any way you want, motherfucker.” Joker wished Digger was standing in front of him. He would’ve loved to sink his fist into that smirking face.
“Then maybe you don’t care about your son too much.”
“What did you say?” Joker gripped the phone so hard his fist hurt.
“Think you’re smart having that bigshot Eddie Morgan pick up your kid.”
“Leave De
rek outta it.” The rage vibrated in his throat. “This shit is between you and me, no one else.”
“Remember what we used to say, ‘go after something they love, and they fold every—’”
“You better think long and hard before you finish that sentence,” Joker growled into the phone. “’Cause you touch my kid and—”
The phone went dead, and Joker braced his hands against the brass rail surrounding the cabin. His heart kicked hard against his ribs, then slowed. The room spun around him, and he gripped the railing tighter, sucking in the salty air and fighting down the bile that rose in his throat. When his head stopped spinning, he grabbed up the bag of money and found Lizbeth below deck.
“Thanks for everything.” He shoved the bag at her. “It’s all yours.”
Only fair, she’d basically saved his ass twice in twenty-four hours.
“What?” Her brown eyes widened in shock.
“Take it,” he said over his shoulder. “You deserve it.”
He stomped back into the bedroom and surveyed the room. With his duffel abandoned in the car at the Green Parrot, he only had his wallet. Pretty sad, everything he owned could be shoved in the pocket of his jeans. He moved closer to the bed and stared at the piece of plastic that was laying on the sheets. He snatched it up and examined it. One of Daisy’s fake IDs showing her as a blonde, just like the wig she’d worn in South Beach. He sighed deeply, knowing she’d left it for him on purpose. Giving him this small part of her because she was too afraid to give anything more. He shoved the card into his pocket, then jumped the stairs two at a time. When he hit the deck, he swiped Derek’s number.
“Hey, Joker.” Derek’s hopeful voice broke him.
“I’m on my way home, should be in by tonight.”
“Good, ’cause I’m getting kinda bored. I was thinking about going to a movie or something.”
Beyond Redemption: Joker (Serpents MC Las Vegas Book 1) Page 18
