Valiant: Joker's Wrath MC

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Valiant: Joker's Wrath MC Page 3

by Bella Jewel


  Leaving me feeling damned afraid.

  CHAPTER 4

  NOW – BAYLEE

  “Order up, Baylee!”

  I spin on my heels and rush over, taking the two plates the chef slides towards me. I lift them and glance at the table number on the small slip of paper beneath them, then hurry towards the table. I place the meals down, smile my best smile, and keep moving. It’s busy in the little Italian restaurant tonight, and I’m run off my feet.

  I worked all morning at the deli down the road then came straight to this job once my shift ended. By the time I’m done tonight, it’ll be well past ten, and I’ll have worked over fourteen hours straight. I’m exhausted and praying the tips tonight are good, because it’s getting harder and harder to feed Rae and her growing baby and food cravings.

  The bell above the door jingles and I glance over to see who has entered. I’m also on door duty, because our usual girl, Theresa, is away so I’m doing two jobs tonight. I wipe my hands on my apron, pull it off quickly, and rush over to the counter by the door. I don’t look at the couple that has entered for a few moments as I check the books to see how we’re doing with seating.

  “Well, well.”

  I jerk and look up at the smooth, husky voice. I come face to face with the man from the bar the other night, and for a moment, I just stare at him.

  “Are you stalking me?”

  I press a hand over my mouth, horrified that those words left my mouth. He’s got a woman with him, a very attractive woman, and I just accused him of stalking me after having met him only once. His eyes dance with laughter, and I can see him fighting it back. Great. He thinks it’s funny. I’m mortified.

  “Actually,” he says, voice smooth as silk, “I wasn’t. But if you’d like me to, that can be arranged—” his eyes dip to my name tag, and he grins “—Baylee.”

  Jesus.

  The man is smooth.

  My eyes dart to the girl with him, and she’s giving me a less than pleased look. Probably because she thinks I’m hitting on her ... boyfriend? Surely he couldn’t be her boyfriend, because he’s openly flirting with me. If he was her boyfriend, she needs to do herself a favor and give him a swift kick in the ass, and then move onto the next guy. Pronto.

  “Ah,” I say, clearing my throat. “Have you got a reservation?”

  His eyes keep dancing with humor as he purrs, “Yeah. We do. Under Jack.”

  Jack.

  Such a simple, yet incredibly masculine name. It suits him. Really, really suits him.

  “Okay,” I say, studying the names. They all seem to blur into one as I try to stop my hands from shaking.

  Why does this man make me so nervous? I don’t even know him. Get it together, Baylee.

  “I have you on table eight, if you’ll follow me.”

  I pick up my pen and paper and take them down to the table in the far-left corner. It’s a booth. Cozy. I inwardly roll my eyes at the thought and step aside, putting on my best smile as they slide in.

  “Can I get you a drink to start?”

  Jack looks at me, and I swear, his eyes get lusty. The man is intense. The worst part? He knows it, and he uses it. Jerk. Pretty jerk.

  “Yeah, give me a Jack and Coke,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to my lips before turning to his date, who he has clearly forgotten about. “You?”

  She glares at me, then smiles sweetly at him. “Same as you, honey.”

  Honey.

  Gag.

  “Coming right up,” I say, forcing another pathetic fake smile and turning on my heel, disappearing to pick up my apron again.

  I can feel Jack’s eyes on me as I move around the restaurant. Occasionally, I glance at him, and he gives me a lazy half grin. God. He’s so bold. Shaking my head, I keep focused on my work. I head back over to their table when they’ve finished their meals and notice that the girl is no longer there. Great.

  “How was your meal?” I say, picking up their plates.

  “I don’t know, maybe next time you should try it with me and we can see.”

  My eyes dart to him. “That’ll never happen.”

  His brows go up. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, it’s so. I’m not interested. At all.”

  “Oh,” he murmurs, eyes twinkling. “You’re interested.”

  “Firstly,” I snap, standing straight, “you’re on a date with another woman.”

  “She’s a friend,” he points out, cutting me off.

  “Friends don’t call each other honey,” I hiss under my breath.

  He grins.

  “Secondly,” I continue, “I’m not interested in you. Not even a little bit. If the other night didn’t tell you that, then this most certainly should.” I lean in closer. “Not. Interested. So seriously, go away, or I’ll be forced to ...”

  “To what?” he challenges, a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Hurt you,” I say, and then inwardly slap myself for that childish remark.

  Get it together. You’re a professional.

  I straighten, put on my fakest smile, and say, “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal, sir.”

  Then I turn and walk off.

  The man just can’t take a hint.

  I’m not interested.

  Not at all.

  Not even a little.

  Right?

  ~*~*~*~

  “Come on, Rae,” I sigh, picking up the empty pizza boxes and stacking them beside the bin. “You’re pregnant, not crippled.”

  Rae shoots me a look from the couch and kicks her swollen feet out. “You don’t know, you’ve never been pregnant. Oh, wait, and you never will after what he did to you.”

  My insides twist, and I stare brokenly at the girl I’m trying my best to help, who is trying her best to push me away. I don’t understand why. I know she’s hurt, I know she’s angry, I know she’s scared, but why she’s doing this to me, I’ll never understand. This isn’t my fault. It’s his. It’s York’s.

  “Don’t,” I whisper, my voice broken and shallow. “Don’t you use that against me.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Stop with the pity party, Maddie. Nobody cares.”

  “Baylee,” I growl. “And you’re walking a fine line.”

  She rolls her eyes again. “We both know I’m not. Kick me out. Go on, I dare you. You’d last five minutes before you came running for me. You can’t help it. It’s all that good in you. York used to love it, until he didn’t ...”

  My chest tightens again, and I continue picking up her mess. “Everyone has a breaking point, Rae. Remember that. I won’t put up with this forever. If it wasn’t for the fact that I saw what he did to you, to me, then I wouldn’t do any of this for you. I loved you like a sister, but even that’s wearing thin.”

  She grunts. “We’re not sisters, we’ll never be sisters. You just can’t let go, that’s the only reason I’m here.”

  “You’re here,” I grind out. “Because I want to help you and your baby.”

  “Who cares about the baby?” she snaps. “I don’t. I wish it would just fucking leave.”

  I flinch. “That’s your child, Rae.”

  “Yeah, and I didn’t want the damned thing. Another reason not to like you.”

  I shake my head. There is no point arguing with her. It won’t help anyone. I take a deep breath and turn, walking down the hall to my bedroom and closing the door behind me. I press my back against it, close my eyes, and take a staggering breath. It’s only until the baby comes, when I know the baby is in a safe home, I’ll help Rae into a shelter and get my life together.

  I press a hand to my stomach.

  The painful reminder that I can never have children right there beneath my fingers.

  My phone rings from my pocket, and I pull it out, glancing down at the screen. Shania. Thank God. She’s the only one who can talk me out of going out there and smacking some sense into Rae, possibly committing a murder. I press my finger to the green key and answer it with a whispered, “Hey.”

 
; “What’s wrong?” my best friend asks, her voice immediately concerned.

  “Rae. Again.”

  She sighs, and I can feel it right down to my toes. I know that sigh. It’s the sigh she always gives when we talk about Rae. She wishes I’d remove her from the picture, she doesn’t understand why I help her. Sometimes I don’t understand why I help her either. But, really, Rae is the only family I have left. She might not be my sister, but for many years she was close enough.

  I don’t have a mom and dad. They both died when I was only eleven. It’s just me. No siblings. A couple of aunties and uncles I don’t talk to often, and grandparents in another state that are now in a nursing home. I’m the only thing I’ve got, and Rae is the only thing she’s got. I can’t just give up on her. That would make me no better than him.

  And I’ll never be him.

  “What did the little brat do now?”

  I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “Just mouthing off, being lazy, the usual Rae games.”

  “You can’t keep putting up with this,” Shan says, her voice soft yet firm. “How long are you going to keep giving in to this girl?”

  “She has nobody else, Shan. You know that.”

  “Yeah, neither do you, but guess what? You’re still putting it all out there for her. She’s not doing that for you. She’s doing nothing for you, actually. Nothing but ruining your life. I know you care, honey, but there has to be a limit.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I say, my voice a little higher than I’d like.

  “Stand up to her. Stop giving things to her. If she’s going to be a pig, don’t give her food.”

  “She’s pregnant ...”

  “Yeah, and she’ll step up really quickly when you take the benefits away. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to keep giving so much, you can have her there without letting her walk all over you.”

  God.

  My head hurts.

  I can’t think with this kind of pressure. Honestly, I can’t.

  “Listen, I’m going to go,” I say, my voice strained.

  “I’m not trying to upset you, sweetie. I’m just ...”

  “I know,” I say softly. “I know you’re not. I love you. I just need some air.”

  She hesitates. “Okay.”

  “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” she says again.

  I hang up the phone, and a tear rolls out and tumbles down my cheek.

  I just don’t know if I can do this anymore.

  Shania is right. How much can one person take before they break?

  CHAPTER 5

  NOW – BAYLEE

  It takes me a moment to realize someone is calling my name.

  I’m walking past a bar, head down, purse clutched close, heading back home after a long, dragged-out walk to clear my head. I look up, confused. I don’t recognize that voice. I glance around, wondering who the hell is calling my name when I see him. He’s jogging towards me, a grin on his perfect damned face.

  Jack.

  Great.

  Just what I need. How is it possible for him to keep running into me? I mean honestly, what are the chances of that? Maybe he is stalking me, it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s persistent. I’ll give him that much.

  “Fancy running into you here,” he says, coming to a stop.

  My eyes drop to his boots—unlaced black biker style, all scuffed and sexy. I slowly move my gaze up, over his faded blue jeans and up over the dark tee that clings to his chest far too perfectly, finally settling on his eyes. Those eyes. Breathtaking.

  “Do you like what you see?” he drawls.

  I flinch and take a step back. “Are you stalking me? Seriously? How the hell do I keep running into you?”

  He grins. “Good way to avoid the question, and no, I was at that bar when you came galloping past.”

  “I wasn’t galloping,” I snap. “I was power walking.”

  “You were pissed off walking.”

  I raise my brows. “And you can tell that how?”

  “You had this cute as hell scowl on your face, and you were practically breaking the pavement you were slamming your feet down so hard.”

  I meet his eyes, then I roll mine. “I was in a hurry.”

  “You’ve also been crying, which means I’m right and you’re wrong. Want to tell me why?”

  I blink at him.

  “Firstly, how the hell did you know I was crying?”

  “Your eyes are glassy.”

  His answer is matter of fact. Straight down the line.

  “And secondly,” I manage, thrown by how right on the money he is, “why would I tell you what’s wrong? You’re a perfect stranger.”

  He winks at me. “I love when you compliment me.”

  Oh. My. God.

  Cocky bastard.

  “Answer the question; your head doesn’t need to get any bigger than it already is.”

  “Well, sometimes it’s good to tell a perfect stranger what’s wrong. They can’t really judge you.”

  I snort. “I don’t see how your logic works. Sorry.”

  “Give me a try,” he says, crossing those muscled arms. “You might be surprised.”

  “No, thanks, I’m thinking I’ll pass on that one.”

  “Like playing hard to get, do you?”

  I blink again. “This isn’t me playing hard to get. It’s me not being interested. I’m sure there are plenty of other women out there who would happily throw themselves at all that—” I wave my finger around “—charm and good looks.”

  “So you do think I’m good looking?”

  Jesus.

  “Bye, Jack,” I say, turning and continuing my path home.

  “Let me walk you home,” he calls out after me, following behind.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Right, well I’ll just follow you then.”

  “That’s stalking,” I say over my shoulder.

  “It’s a public sidewalk, I’m allowed to go wherever I want when I’m on this sidewalk.”

  Creeper.

  But a smile tugs at my lips. I make sure he doesn’t see it.

  “Well, you can do just that,” I say. “But you can stop talking to me while you do it.”

  “I’ll just talk out loud then.” He chuckles, and I can hear his boots stomping along behind me.

  “Go right ahead, talk away,” I mutter, picking up the pace.

  “Walking faster won’t make me go away.”

  “It would seem nothing would.”

  He laughs. “We both know you don’t want me to go away.”

  I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see.

  I say nothing, I just keep walking.

  “When can I take you on a date, Baylee?”

  I keep walking, shaking my head. “You can’t.”

  “Yeah, I can. When?”

  “No. You can’t.”

  “Can.”

  “Can’t!”

  I have no doubt he’s grinning right now. The shit stirrer.

  “I’ll win you over.”

  I reach my apartment and spin around. “Keep dreaming, and while you’re at it, keep walking. I’m not interested.”

  He looks up at my apartment, then glances back down at me and winks. “I know where you live now.”

  Dammit.

  “There are five other apartments in there, perhaps a nice girl in one of those will put up with your terrible stalker-ish behavior.”

  He grins bigger. “Now I know there’s only five, it’ll be easier to find you.”

  One day, I’ll learn when to close my mouth.

  “Goodbye, Jack. If you come to my apartment, I’ll pepper spray you.”

  His booming laughter follows me all the way into the building.

  And he’ll never know just how big my smile is.

  Never.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Come on, Baylee,” Ellis, my co-worker from the deli says, putting her hands together. “Please? It’s my birthday.” />
  I grind my back teeth together but stare at the pretty dark-haired girl bouncing around in front of me and know I can’t say no. Dammit. I can’t say no. It’s her birthday and her mom has been so good to me, letting me move my shifts around whenever I need to do something with Rae.

  “I’m coming,” I say, inwardly crying as my aching feet scream at me.

  “Yay!” she chirps. “Go and get cleaned up out the back, you can get a ride with me.”

  Forcing a smile, I walk out to my locker and pull out a dress I keep in there for occasions like this. It isn’t the first time we’ve all gone out after work, but it is the first time I’ve had to do it when I really, really just want to curl up in bed and sleep for a week. I slip into the toilet stall, get changed, and then come out and wash my face, run a brush through my hair, and re-apply some basic makeup.

  That’ll do.

  I head back out and Ellis is standing by the door. “Everyone is there. Come on.”

  I follow her outside to her car, and we climb in, heading to the same bar I went to the other evening with Shania. With tired feet, I slip out and we line up, Ellis chewing my ear off about her boyfriend the entire time. When we make it into the club, we find the rest of the staff from the deli standing by a booth and head over.

  “There’s the birthday girl!”

  Ellis is whisked away. For a while after that, I mingle, talking and laughing with a few people from work. I relax a little, but my feet are begging me to just sit down. I glance around the crowd, and my breath is sucked out of my lungs when I see Jack coming towards me. The way he walks, his confidence—it’s out of this world.

  It’s hard to look away.

  He obviously likes this bar.

  I notice a group of girls and guys behind him, all staring over at me. God. Did he tell them about me? This is awkward. He looks incredible as he comes to a stop beside me. Gone is his usual humor. Instead, he leans in and says, in a low husky tone, “You in that dress would drive any man fuckin’ wild. You’re beautiful.”

  Then he straightens and keeps walking to the bar.

  I blink.

  My mouth drops open slightly.

  And I turn and watch him for a little while before I’m distracted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn and see our youngest staff member, Drake, smiling at me. He’s only just turned twenty-one and is funny and charming, and I’m sure he’ll grow up to break hearts.

 

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