by Nicole James
“It’s okay, Joker. I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Her voice was soft.
“Babe, look at me.” It took her a minute, but finally she met his eyes. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“Pretend?”
“You don’t have to play the hard-ass chick to cover up your insecurities. I’m not gonna use them against you. I won’t do that. I promise you.”
“You…you knew?”
“It’s a pretty common defense mechanism, but I’ve found it’s hardly ever the truth. If a chick’s pretending to be tough, I mean really tough, underneath she’s usually a mess.”
“Is that what you think I am? A mess?”
“I think you’re fragile and vulnerable and a little scared. And you don’t want anyone to see any of that so you get angry and bluff your way through. You may be able to fool everyone around you, Hol, but I know how much the past still hurts you.”
“Your psychoanalysis is all very interesting, but I already have a therapist.”
“Babe—”
She stood abruptly. “Can you take me home now?”
He studied her face a long moment and finally replied, “Sure. I’ll take you wherever you want.”
She paused in the doorway. “Joker?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your real name?”
He gave her a half smile. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“No.”
He chuckled. “Right. Johnny. Johnny Ray Decker.”
She repeated. “Johnny Ray Decker.” Then nodded, smiling. “I like it.”
“That makes one of us, doll.” He rubbed the top of her head. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Chapter Ten
February gave way to March and things with Holly settled down. She hadn’t pulled any stunts like the last; in fact, she’d become downright studious. Joker supposed the approaching mid-term exams were the explanation.
It was after one a.m. as he crossed the long bridge over Lake Ponchartrain, heading home from the club. Coming across on Hwy 11, he rolled into the first gas station leading into Irish Bayou. He was only about five minutes from home but wanted to pick up a pack of smokes and an energy drink for the morning.
He was at the counter, paying for his purchases when his phone rang.
The clerk dropped his change into his gloved fist, and he smiled and grabbed his items, pushing through the door. He jammed them in his saddlebag and pulled out his phone, catching it on the last ring.
He frowned, seeing it was Holly’s number.
“Babe, you okay?”
A man’s voice came on the line, and Joker could hear the unmistakable crackle of a police radio in the background. “This is Officer Reed with the New Orleans Police Department. I’ve got a woman here by the name of Holly Randall. Says you’re her emergency contact.”
Joker’s stomach dropped. “She okay?”
“Her apartment was broken into tonight. She’s fine. We apprehended the suspect. She’s shaken up, though.”
“Tell her I’ll be right there.”
He disconnected and fired his bike up, roaring out onto the highway. He took I10 and kept the throttle wide open, making the twenty-two minute trip in fourteen.
There were two squad cars still on the scene, their blue lights flashing against the buildings in a strobe effect of light as he dropped his kickstand and jogged up the walk. Neighbors stood out in front of their homes.
A cop met him in the entryway.
“Officer Reed called me,” Joker stated. “I’m a friend of Holly Randall.”
The uniform motioned him inside. “Upstairs.”
He took the steps two at a time. The door was open, and she was sitting on the couch, looking scared and shaken. He paused when he saw her, his heart in his throat.
A middle-aged officer stood over her writing notes on a pad. He glanced up when Joker entered, his eyes sweeping over his cut. “You Johnny Ray Decker?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes with her. I’ll be downstairs.” He moved past and out the door, leaving it open.
Joker went down to a knee in front of Holly and took her hands. “Baby, are you okay?”
She nodded, then grabbed onto his leather vest with both hands and buried her face in his neck, bursting into tears.
His arms went around her and he stroked her hair, letting her cry. “It’s okay. I’m here now. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to you, honey.” He continued stroking her head as she shook in his arms. After some time, he pried her grip from his vest and pulled her closer. Her arms slid around his neck to cling to him. “It’s okay, baby. Cry it out. I’ve got you. Hold onto me, just hold on.”
Eventually, she got herself together. He caught her face in his hands, trying to meet her eyes as she wiped the tears from her face. He reached over and grabbed some tissue from the box on the end table, handing them to her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that. I was doing so well for the officer.”
“It’s okay, baby, you can fall apart on me if you need to. I wasn’t here, and I should have been. You can get angry and blame this all on me. If that’s what you need, I can be that for you.”
She tried to laugh, still wiping the tears. “I don’t blame you.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I was here by myself. Chelsea’s at her new boyfriend’s, and Miranda went home for the weekend.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were alone tonight?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that big a deal. I was studying. Anyway, I heard someone jiggling the doorknob. At first I thought it was Chelsea and maybe she was having trouble with her key. But then, I don’t know… This feeling just came over me; the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I grabbed my phone and went and hid in the back of the closet. I heard a bang, and the wood by the door splinter open. That’s when I called 911.”
“The neighbors across the hall or downstairs didn’t hear anything?”
She shook her head. “Officer Reed said he checked; there’s no one home in any of the other three apartments in the building.”
“What happened?”
“I hid in the closet, and I could hear him moving around the apartment, opening drawers, and I was just hoping he wouldn’t know I was there. It was like time stood still, and I was afraid he’d see my books open on the table and my glass of tea with the ice cubes still in it and know someone was home. I worried he’d hear me on the phone with the police or that my phone would ring, and he’d fling open the closet door and find me. I was shaking so bad. Then it got quiet. I didn’t know if he was still in the apartment. Finally, I heard the police arrive.”
Officer Reed came back in the apartment, and Joker let her go to stand.
“Guy had rummaged through two rooms and took off. Kicked in the door.” Reed nodded to Holly. “She was brave and did everything right. We caught him coming down the stairs. Nineteen-year old kid, just out looking for anything he could pawn for drug money. He’d already hit the two apartments downstairs. We took him in.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
“I’ve got her statement. I think we’ve got everything we need here. You gonna stay with her?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of her.”
Officer Reed eyed his MC patches again and nodded. He looked at Holly. “Ms. Randall, will you be all right?”
She stood and extended her hand. “Yes, sir. Thank you for everything.”
He shook it. “You take care now.”
When the last of the squads pulled away and the neighbors all returned to their homes, Joker shut the door. “Lock’s busted.”
She nodded. “I’ll have to call the landlord in the morning.”
“You gonna want to move out after this?”
“It was just a teenager looking for easy stuff to steal. Luckily they caught him, and I’ll get my laptop back.”
&n
bsp; “You got anything important on it?”
“It’s all uploaded to the cloud, so I’ll manage.”
“You want to come back to my place tonight? Or I could take you to the clubhouse.”
“No. I need to stay here. There’s no lock on the door. What if someone steals the rest of our stuff?”
“Babe, five minutes ago you were holdin’ onto my vest so tight your knuckles were white, now you wanna stay?”
“I’m fine now.”
“No you’re not, but you will be. And if you want to stay, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Sleep? I won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight.”
He laughed outright at that. “Exactly why I should take you somewhere else.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”
He studied her, the smile fading from his face. “Hate seein’ you like that— nervous, shaking, scared. When I came through the door and saw you sittin’ there…”
She walked into his arms, hugged his waist, and laid her head against his chest, tucking under his chin.
He stroked her back. “Cry it out, baby girl.”
And she did.
“I think about how he was in the same room with me and what he could have done, but then I think about what he didn’t do and what didn’t happen,” she whispered.
Joker noticed a framed picture sitting on a table. It was of her and Cat when they were kids. Holly was young, smiling, carefree—how he imagined her before she was taken. He pointed at it. “This girl—this girl is still inside you. You need to get her back.”
“I’ll never get her back.”
“Babe, don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“You can be happy again. You have your whole life to live.”
She got quiet.
“You made so much progress, and there’s so much road ahead of you, girl, you don’t want this thing draggin’ you back.”
She nodded against his chest and then tilted her head up to look in his eyes. “I won’t let it.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips run along the delicate edge then let his fingers trail down the skin of her neck before he dropped his hand.
Her eyes had closed at his soft touch and when it fell away, they fluttered back open, the pupils focusing on him. He glanced at the spot where his fingers had last touched and her breath caught. His eyes flicked up to hers again. She was beautiful and fragile and vulnerable.
“Something like you’ve been through can bring out hidden strengths you didn’t even know existed. You’re stronger than you think you are, girl. You’re a survivor. You’re going to do great things some day.”
He lifted his hand to her cheek, and she nuzzled into it, her eyes closing.
“You know what’s wrong with you, Holly?”
Her eyes opened. “What?”
“Nothing. Not a damn thing.”
Chapter Eleven
Joker waited on his bike outside the building where Holly had her four o’clock class. Students trickled out, and soon a stream of them poured onto the walk.
He spotted her among the throng and stood. It was a warm mid-March day. She wore a cute little cotton sundress that shouldn’t be sexy, but was. Her legs were beginning to show a golden brown tan from all the time she’d spent sitting on the quad in shorts or little dresses like this. Her riotous blonde ringlets fell around her shoulders.
The look when her blue eyes hit his didn’t seem happy. He frowned, studying her body language for some clue to the source of her anger. After the other night, he’d thought they’d turned a corner.
She stopped in front of him with an arched brow. He braced for whatever tirade she was about to throw. “Babe.”
“Did you do it?” her voice snapped.
What the fuck? His head jerked back. “Did I do what?”
“Miranda is in media communications. She’s interning at The Times Picayune. She said the guy they arrested for breaking into my apartment was released on bail. The next night he was beaten and dumped in the parking lot of University Hospital. He’s in critical condition.”
“And why exactly do you care about that piece of shit?”
“Did you do it?”
When he remained silent, her mouth fell open. “You did, didn’t you?”
“Didn’t say that, babe.”
“What did you do? Track him down, pay a visit, and beat the crap out of him? Did you go alone or take the whole damn club with you?”
It was just So-Cal, but he wasn’t about to admit it. The little punk deserved everything he got. He was on the road to a life of crime; next break-ins the kid made he’d probably graduate to rapes, robbery, and murder. The kid wasn’t even sorry. He was lucky they dumped him at the hospital. Joker felt not one iota of regret. He left that dude with a message delivered with brass knuckles—a message he wouldn’t soon forget. No one messes with anyone connected with the club, and never someone under their protection.
“You done chewin’ my ass out? Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I thought we were goin’ to the park.”
“That was before I knew what you were capable of.”
He stepped closer to her. “What I’m capable of is protecting you and making sure anyone who hurts you learns. Not because it’s my job, but because I give a damn about you. I don’t ever want to see the look I saw on your face when I walked into your apartment that night. No one, and I mean no one, is ever gonna hurt you again; not while I’m breathing.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but for once she kept her mouth shut.
“Now get on the bike.”
He climbed on and was surprised when she settled behind him, her arms clinging tight to his waist.
He rode to City Park, a place he would sometimes come to when he first got to town years ago. He parked the bike, took her hand, and walked, giving them both some time to cool off.
Big oaks draped in Spanish moss provided a canopy over their heads and walking paths meandered under them. They crossed an arched stone bridge over a pond as a pair of white swans swam past. At the top she paused, watching. She stood in a beam of sunlight that shown through her pale yellow dress, giving him a view of the outline of her legs.
Every muscle in his body tensed as she leaned over, her palms on the stone, the scoop of her neckline dipping low to reveal the top of her breasts. If that wasn’t enough torment, the fabric of her dress tightened, outlining her perfect heart shaped ass.
If she were any other girl, he’d already have his hands around her tiny waist pulling that sweet ass against his growing erection, giving her a bump or two to get those breasts bouncing. He’d sink his hand in her shimmering ringlets and pull her head back as he pulled her upright, exposing that long neck and giving him a look down her dress at that pretty cleavage.
But she was forbidden, and God help him, if that didn’t make him want her that much more.
She twisted, looking over her shoulder, and his eyes bore into hers. For a moment, he thought he saw those blue orbs heat with desire. Her tongue came out and wet her lips; if she’d been another girl he’d have pulled her into the bushes right then and given her something to put those wet lips around.
“You look so intense. What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“You want the truth?”
“I don’t know, do I?” She turned her gaze back to the pond. When he said nothing, her curiosity got the best of her and she glanced back. “Well?”
“You. Naked.”
“Really?” A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Do you have this fantasy often?”
“Every damn night.”
“Tell me more.”
“You’re on your knees with your lips wrapped around my dick, and you’re loving every minute of it.”
She smiled, twisting to lean back against the stone and cross her legs. “I’m sure I would. And in this fantasy of yours is there any orgasm in it f
or me?”
He grinned. “Of course. Ladies first.”
She let out a tinkle of laughter. “Perhaps we should give it a try. See if it’s as good as it is in your mind.”
“You know we can’t.”
“And why not? Because Undertaker said so?”
“Exactly.”
“He wouldn’t have to know.” She stood and approached, stopping right in front of him to tilt her head back. “I wouldn’t tell him. One little taste; what harm would it do?” Her hand slid up his chest.
He caught it in his grip.
“One taste wouldn’t be enough. Wouldn’t be near enough.”
“I think you may be right.” Her lips were plump and wet and begging to be kissed, but Undertaker had laid down the law, and Joker had to rein in his blind lust while he still could.
“A half hour ago you were pissed at me.”
“Yes, well, it’s exhausting being mad at you all the time.”
“Right. Maybe you’re tryin’ to get me in trouble. That it? This payback?”
“No.”
“What are you tryin’ to do to me, little girl?”
“Get you wound up so tight maybe you’ll actually do something about it.”
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
She let out a huff and turned away. “Why do men make everything so complicated? It’s just a kiss.”
“Said Eve to Adam.”
She gave him a sly smile over her shoulder. “Well, we are in a Garden of Eden. If only we were naked.”
“You’re killin’ me, babe.”
He watched as she lifted the hair up off her neck.
“It’s hot in the sun,” she said. Then he watched as she pulled a hair tie from her wrist and gathered her hair in a messy bun, somewhat taming the curls and exposing her graceful neck.
He stepped behind her, drawn against his will, and his hand slid up her neck, his thumb brushing the soft skin of her nape where the tan was almost non-existent.
She moaned, tilting her head down. “That feels good. Don’t stop.”
It was then he noticed them; small and barely visible just at her hairline; three letters tattooed into her skin. BJB.