“It’s easy to pull the trigger or beat somebody's face in, but it’s much harder to walk away and do the right thing.”
Derek looked away from him, and Joker wasn’t sure what he was thinking. The hardest decision Joker ever made stood in front of him, and even though Derek would hate it, it had to be done.
Joker could see how this conversation had drained him. “Let’s see if I can get you something to eat.”
Joker faced the door, then turned back again. “One other thing. How did you get past Eddie’s guard at his penthouse?”
Derek smirked. “I might’ve started a small fire on the stove in the kitchen. And while the guy was putting it out, I bolted.”
“Holy shit. You’re my kid, all right.”
The next day the cops came through, but because Derek was a minor, Joker had to be present along with a lawyer Eddie kept on retainer. Derek told them he didn’t see the shooter and had no idea who would want to shoot him. The kid lied like a pro, and Joker experienced a mixture of fear and pride. The cops had no reason to doubt him, and even though the lawyer intervened a few times, it was a short interview. When they were done, the lawyer stayed with Derek, and the cops followed Joker out of the room.
Derek didn’t have a record and had never been in trouble, but Joker was an entirely different story.
“Jackson Harrison.” The shorter detective flipped his notepad shut. “What did your parents have a thing for US presidents?”
“My parents had a thing for sex and drugs. I was the result.”
The detective frowned as the other one flanked him. A move to intimidate. Big fuckin’ joke on them. With a rap sheet starting from when he was twelve years old, and being locked up in one of the toughest prisons in the country, they’d have to do a little more to scare him.
“Glad to see your kid is doing better.”
Great. They were gonna do the good-cop-bad-cop thing.
“Funny, a subway platform crowded with people, and no one saw the shooter, including the victim.”
Joker shrugged. They hoped using the word victim instead of Derek’s name would jog some gut reaction, but Joker was way ahead of them. After years of shuffling in and out of the system, being questioned by the cops came second nature.
“You ride with the Raiders, and your road name is Joker, isn’t that right?”
“Not anymore, and my father gave me that nickname. He was a sentimental type of guy.”
“Sad, he was gunned down almost two years ago.” Good Cop stared at him, willing a reaction. “Gunned down by a rival club, right?”
“Just another victim of the violence plaguing this country.”
Bad Cop snorted. “We know you ride with the Raiders, we know you’re their VP, and we also know lately there’s been a shift in power. Maybe someone’s unhappy and looking for revenge.”
“You guys seem to know more than me, but why would New York City detectives be interested in what happens up in Riverside?”
Bad Cop stepped into his space. “Because we don’t need any more garbage coming into our city.” Bad Cop shook his head. “You think you’d want us to catch whoever did this, but maybe you already know—or you just don’t care.”
A familiar heat circled Joker’s neck, and his jaw tightened and his fists clenched. “What I think is, my son and I have been very cooperative—”
“Is there a problem detectives?” Josh Green, Eddie’s lawyer, stepped between the men and waited for a response that never came.
Both detectives grumbled, then stepped off. “We’ll be back.”
“A waste of time, gentlemen. My client is the victim and a minor, so there will be no more questioning unless I’m informed and present.”
The cops stormed off, knowing they were beat.
“Thanks.” Joker held out his hand.
“I told your son not to answer any more questions without me present”—Josh released Joker’s hand—“and I would suggest you do the same.”
Joker nodded, and the lawyer left.
Four days later, Derek was released from the hospital, and except for a few restrictions while the stitches healed, he was back to normal. A miracle that the kid even survived a bullet to the chest.
“Why’re you staring at me?” Derek asked as they rode up the elevator to Eddie’s penthouse.
Eddie and Paige had invited them for dinner to celebrate Derek’s recovery, but Joker knew he couldn’t put off the inevitable forever. Derek would hate his decision, but it was the only answer.
“I don’t think you realize how lucky you were.”
“You told me you were shot once, and you’re all good.”
Getting shot. Great thing for him and his son to have in common. The main reason for the application and brochure in the front pocket of his jeans.
“When do I have to go back to school?”
“We’ll talk about that after we leave Eddie’s.”
They remained silent until Paige greeted them warmly at the door. Joker liked her the first time he’d met the beautiful woman with the classy way about her. Social media went crazy when she and Eddie had gotten together—Eddie, the rough, tatted nightclub owner and Paige, the Long Island heiress to the Drake Hotels. TMZ claimed it would never last, calling them Beauty and the Beast, but almost two years later, and they were still going strong.
Paige hugged Derek gently, taking his wound into consideration. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
Derek lowered his eyes, embarrassed by her emotion, then whispered to Joker. “She’s hot.”
Joker’s shoulder bumped him. “Watch your damn mouth.”
“Well, she is.” Derek shrugged.
“Show some respect.”
Paige turned around, obviously hearing their exchange. “Please don’t tell him to stop. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t encourage him.” Joker pointed to the media room. “Why don’t you go play some of those video games you’re always telling me about.”
Paige led Joker into the living room, where Eddie was pouring drinks at the huge bar set against the wall.
Eddie came around the bar and handed Joker a tumbler of Jack Daniels and Paige a glass of white wine, then motioned to the leather couch. Paige left the room, probably sensing the men wanted to be alone. Smart and perceptive.
“I can’t believe he was only laid up for a little over a week.” Eddie settled into the chair opposite the couch.
“Even the doctor was amazed.”
“Takes after his father.” Eddie sipped at his drink.
“In more ways than one.” Joker motioned around the room. “You got more furniture since the last time I was here.”
“That’s ’cause I got a wife who says it was like living in a cave. Even made me move the pool table outta the dining room.”
“Amazing.”
Joker took a long pull of the whiskey. “It was Digger who shot Derek.”
“Fuck. The guy really is crazy.” Eddie leaned in. “How’re you gonna handle it?”
Joker dug into the pocket of his jeans and handed Eddie a brochure.
Eddie read the first few paragraphs. “What’s Nebraska School for Boys?”
“It’s where I’m sending Derek.”
“In Nebraska?”
“It’s a military school. Teach the kid some discipline.”
“In Nebraska?”
“I want him as far away from me and New York as possible.”
“In Nebraska?”
“Will you please stop saying that. It’s the best place for him. The kid’s smart and he deserves a chance. Ninety percent of the guys who graduate go to big colleges.”
“But Nebras—”
“Shut it.”
“What does he think of this plan of yours?”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“Good luck with that.”
Joker peeled apart the cardboard coaster, making neat piles on either side of his beer bottle. It was the second time in two weeks he’d drive
n to the dive bar halfway between the Drake Hotel where he was still staying, and the Raider’s clubhouse in Riverside. The only high point was the ride up on his bike, which finally arrived from Florida via a transport company.
Both times he’d left Manhattan with the intention of putting a bullet in Digger’s head, and both times he’d ended up nursing a beer at the roadhouse.
But the beer didn’t ease the constant pain in his chest every time he pictured Derek boarding the plane for Nebraska. As he expected, the kid hated the idea and they fought about it until Derek realized he had no choice. But even the fighting was better than his absolute silence and look of utter dejection as he boarded the plane. There wasn’t enough liquor in the State of New York to wipe away that image.
The sweet smell of cheap perfume and sweat singed his nostrils seconds before he heard the voice.
“Hey, honey, didn’t I see you here last week?”
Not quite nails on a chalkboard, but close. Real close.
Joker focused on the mangled coaster. “Nah, must’ve been somebody else.”
She squeezed in alongside him, which wasn’t necessary since it was just him and another guy at the far end of the bar.
“No, it was you.” Her hot pink nails raked up the sleeve of his leather jacket, and he shifted his arm, worried that her sharp claws might scratch the leather.
“I just wanna drink my beer.”
She had one hand on his arm while the other grazed his denim-clad thigh. Joker never expected to find an octopus this far from water.
“C’mon, let’s you and me get out of here.” She leaned in closer, and he shifted away from her. “I’ll bet you’re packing at least nine inches.”
She palmed his dick, and he grabbed her wrist and held it up between them. “I told you, I’m not interested.”
He flung her hand away and she straightened. “Well, fuck you!”
Yeah, more like a dog’s squeak toy.
“Not tonight, baby.”
The bartender and the guy sitting at the other end howled with laughter, which caused her face to turn from red to purple seconds before she stormed toward the door.
That was the last time Joker stopped at the roadhouse. He spent the next week emptying the minibar while binge-watching How to Get Away With Murder until he realized he wasn’t going to find any legal loopholes for gunning down Digger in cold blood.
His mind spun in an endless loop, but nothing made sense. He missed the hell out of Derek, but if Digger was still alive, he couldn’t bring Derek home. And if he murdered Digger, it made him no better than that bastard.
Then there was Daisy. Those thoughts fuckin’ wrecked him until he did the only thing that made sense: throwing his fists and getting bloody in the worst brawls he could find. Underground fighting eased the pain in his chest, and the right amount of blow and Jack made complete thoughts impossible.
Good times.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“This puffy shirt has got to go.” Daisy pulled up the voluminous material of her themed waitress uniform. “These stupid sleeves keep getting in the food.” She wiped ketchup off the cuff of the blouse.
Sheena stepped back and eyeballed Daisy. “Big tits, skinny waist, and long legs. I’d be hating you if I didn’t love you so much.”
Daisy tightened the lace of her peasant shirt and made a face into the mirror. “And these strings are definitely not enough to keep the girls harnessed in.”
Sheena met her gaze in the mirror of the cramped ladies’ room at the Pirate’s Cove. “At least you have something to harness.” She reached into her blouse and rearranged her modest breasts.
“Believe me, with your ass, no one cares about your tits.”
“Why, thank you.” Sheena did a little booty shake.
“These costumes are ridiculous.” Daisy pulled down the uber-short skirt and slipped her feet back into the black high-heeled boots. She was supposed to look like a female pirate, but right now she wanted to jump ship.
One month of slinging drinks and bar food while listening to every dumb pirate song blasted day and night throughout the bar was a huge step down from the A-list clubs she frequented in Miami. If one more idiot asked Daisy if he could “shiver her timbers,” she might lose her mind, but at least her life and limbs were safe since she’d dedicated herself to living the straight life.
On the upside, she was over two thousand miles away from Miami and definitely off the radar working in Las Vegas, the adult Disney World, where anything could happen and usually did.
Sheena had come to her rescue with this job and a place to crash until she made enough tips to afford her own place. She even babied her with Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream and homemade brownies the first few days, when getting out of bed turned into a major accomplishment. Leaving Joker hit her harder than she could’ve imagined, and it still hurt like hell.
“The only thing more ridiculous than our uniforms are the guys.” Sheena leaned into the cracked mirror again and applied lipstick, then checked for smudges on her teeth.
“True.”
As if on cue, Seth barged into the bathroom with a huge grin on his face.
“You do know you’re in the ladies’ room, right?” Daisy said. “Like this space isn’t tight enough.”
Seth pushed his tall, lanky body between them. His shoulder-length brown hair went with the whole pirate theme, although his wrinkled shirt and crooked sash said disheveled, not dangerous.
He dug into the pockets of his black pirate pants and held out three men’s leather wallets. “I couldn’t help it.” His grin widened. “I get so fuckin’ bored.”
“Have you forgotten you’re still on parole?” Sheena used her mama bear voice.
“Chill. I’m giving them back. I just like to stay in practice.”
“And how exactly are you going to explain why you had them in the first place?” Sheena asked.
“If I really want a challenge, I try to get them back into their pockets, but it’s pretty busy tonight, so I’ll just do the old, you-dropped-your-wallet-on-the-floor bit.” He shrugged. “Sometimes they’re so happy, they reward my honesty with a tip.”
Sheena turned to Daisy. “You’re awfully quiet.”
Daisy bit her bottom lip and pulled out a man’s watch, a woman’s wallet, and a pack of Marlboro’s from the front of her blousy shirt. “He’s right, serving beer and hot wings is so freakin’ boring.”
Sheena threw up her hands. “Am I the only honest one here?”
“I’m giving the stuff back too.” Daisy slung her arm over Sheena’s shoulder. “But not the cigarettes.” She pitched them into the trash. “That guy has been a jerk all night. In a way, I’m saving his lungs.”
Sheena rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah,” Seth said. “I’ve seen you give away free drinks to the cute guys.” Seth drew himself up to his full height. “That’s stealing, you know.”
The door opened, and Tobias wedged his wide body into the tiny space. “You guys having a meeting without me?”
“This is really stupid.” Sheena shifted, plastering her back against the tiled wall. “Shouldn’t you be bouncing at the door? Keeping all the lowlifes out.”
“Too late, they’re already in.”
Daisy’s phone vibrated, and she wiggled it out of her pirate sash. She’d gotten a new phone when she hit Vegas, and her only contacts were standing in front of her.
“Hello.”
“Daisy?” The low rasp stopped her heart.
“Yes.” She swallowed hard, and three pairs of eyes bore into her.
“It’s Eddie. Joker’s friend in New York.”
Her heart went from zero to sixty, slamming her chest so hard she feared she’d broken a rib.
“Yes.” She wanted to say more than the stupid three-letter word, but her mind wouldn’t work properly with her mouth. A zillion questions zoomed through her brain, but her throat closed up, making it impossible to speak.
“Joker’s
not doin’ too good.”
“What do you mean? Did he have an accident? Is he hurt? Is he in trouble? Is he—”
Daisy pushed past Seth and squeezed herself into the one and only stall. She sat on the toilet and willed the room stop spinning.
“Nothing like that. He’s messed up. Taking crazy chances, drinking, fighting.” Long pause. “Doin’ stupid shit.”
Daisy crouched over so she could hold her head with her free hand. After one month she thought she’d handle this better, but no, just the mention of his name set her off.
“I was thinking maybe you could come up here. Talk to him, straighten him out.”
“I don’t think that would be—”
“I’ll send you a first-class plane ticket, pick you up at the airport, and put you up in a five-star hotel.”
“It’s not about the money.” Although it was, considering she was still sleeping on Sheena’s pullout couch. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“He’s in bad shape.” Daisy heard the flick of Eddie’s cigarette lighter. “You’re the only one he’ll listen to.”
The main reason she snuck off was to avoid this very thing: hashing their feelings out, explaining why they would never work and then a horribly long, drawn-out goodbye. No, she couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t do this.
“Are you still there?” Eddie’s voice snapped her back to the tight cubicle where her life was imploding around her.
“Yes.”
“So, will you do it?”
“Yes.” Her response shocked her. Who gave her mouth permission to speak?
“Cool. I’ll text you all the info. I got you on a flight to JFK tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay.”
She sat crouched over, holding her head. What had she done? Why had she agreed to this? And how had Eddie known she’d say yes?
She forced herself to stand. She couldn’t sit on the toilet forever. She fantasized about being alone when she exited the stall, but no such luck. The same three pairs of eyes stared at her.
“What was that about?” Sheena was unsuccessfully controlling her grin.
“Nothing.”
Beyond Redemption: Joker (Serpents MC Las Vegas Book 1) Page 20
