by Nicole James
“Nope. We’re ridin’ on fumes.”
“How’d you let that happen, shithead?”
“You were the last one driving, asshole.”
Blood pointed down the road. “There’s a place up ahead right before the on-ramp. Pull in there.”
Joker slowed and turned in. He wasted no time as he jumped out to pump the gas while Blood kept his eyes on the passing traffic.
Two bikes rumbled up to the light. Joker couldn’t see their backs from this angle in the streetlights, but it looked like they were wearing cuts. He dipped his head, peering in at Blood.
“I see ‘em,” Blood responded. “Let’s go!”
With the tank half full, Joker yanked the nozzle and hung it back on the pump, then slid behind the wheel. He drove around behind another set of pumps and waited until the light changed and the bikes gunned down the road, then he pulled out and took the entrance ramp up onto the interstate. Fifteen minutes later, they were out of town, rolling through open land.
A full moon shone down, washing the Texas countryside in silvery blue. Everything about it should have calmed Joker’s frazzled nerves, but it didn’t. He looked over at Blood once, a deep searching gaze, his spidey sense alerting him to danger. They both sensed it—a prickly feeling skating up their spines, telling them they weren’t out of the woods yet. It kept Joker’s shoulder blades tight. Neither of them spoke.
Five miles later a distant rumble broke the silence. The sound bore down on them from the west as a line of headlights came slowly into sight over the hill behind them. Joker checked his mirrors every two seconds as they barreled up. He tightened his grip on the wheel as Blood quietly drew his gun and rested it along his thigh.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joker hissed.
“Just maintain your speed and look like a civilian,” Blood replied.
The bikes thundered up behind them. Then slowed, keeping pace with the Impala. They stayed back two car lengths, and that was way too close for Joker’s liking.
“They don’t leave Texas, not if they can help it, and we gotta be close to the state line,” Blood surmised.
Watching his mirrors, Joker kept the Impala at just over the speed limit.
The riders hung there, almost as if they were studying the car and its occupants. Perhaps Joker was being paranoid. Perhaps they were just giving their line a minute to tighten up.
“What mile marker we at?” Blood asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve been watching my mirrors.”
“This goes sideways, don’t fuckin’ stop the car, whatever you do.”
“Not my first rodeo, Blood.”
The two lead bikes made a move, swerving to the passing lane and then blasting past.
Holding his breath, Joker glanced at the faces and patches, as they blew by. He counted ten—all of them Death Heads. Their taillights raced on down the road, but neither Joker nor Blood were ready to relax just yet.
Joker eased up on the gas, increasing the growing distance between them and the horde.
As they neared the state line, the taillights darted up the last exit ramp before they crossed into Louisiana. Joker and Blood gave each other a look and breathed a sigh of relief as the Impala rolled on past.
“You drive as long as you can. The more miles between us and them, the better I’ll feel,” Blood said.
With the roaring Harleys long gone, he and Blood soothed their jangled nerves, lighting up cigarettes.
They drove until almost midnight.
Cat called Blood’s cell phone, telling him she was too tired to drive any farther and was pulling off at the next exit to get a motel room for the night.
The boys followed.
As they rolled into the motel parking lot, the marque proclaimed the free amenities. Joker glanced up. “Wifi and Waffles, what more do we need?”
Blood rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Just give me a damn bed.”
They circled around a pool and parked.
Blood slumped against the door and looked over at Joker. “Since I hold you responsible for this trip, you can pay for the rooms.”
“Gee, thanks.” Joker climbed out and headed inside.
Chapter Thirty
“It’s too hot to sit in this car,” Holly said, reaching for the door handle and climbing out. Joker was in the lobby getting them all rooms. She glanced around and spotted the pool. There were chairs, so she walked over.
She was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, and the water, all lit up at night, looked so inviting that she tossed her bag to a chair, kicked off her shoes, and dove in.
The water felt amazing on her hot skin. She swam underwater, surfacing on the far end. Then she swam the length of the pool in smooth strokes, turning in a roll and kicking off the wall to swim another lap. When she reached the far end and surfaced, Blood and Cat were sitting in chairs next to the one she’d dropped her purse on, and Joker had come back out with the key cards.
Even from this distance, she could see that his gaze was locked on her, watching every movement of her body. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. She swam back. He sat in a chair, bent forward, elbows on his knees, his boots spread wide, his hands clasped. His head was dipped, his eyes spearing hers.
She knew she had him completely off balance. Good. Tables turned—check.
She supposed, to be fair, he was worried about her, maybe even a little freaked out, but she was still pissed at him. He’d made his choice, and it had been Whitney. He wasn’t here out of any love he had for her. This was just a job; hadn’t he told her that so many times in the beginning?
The only reason he’d come for her was because Undertaker sent him. Holly didn’t need anyone to tell her that, and she certainly didn’t need him, either. Putting her palms on the edge, she hefted herself up and out of the water, then walked dripping wet over to him and held out her hand. She stared at him with no expression at all.
“Can I have a key? I want to get a towel.”
Blood grinned and teased her. “Not sure what that stunt was supposed to prove, but, congratulations. You wanted to shake him up, you did.”
Her eyes moved from Blood back to Joker. He did look shook up and that made her happy.
Cat stood before Joker could respond. “Come on little sister. I’ve got one.”
Holly grabbed her small purse and went with her.
***
Blood kicked Joker’s boot, drawing his attention from the girls as they walked away. “You better go say whatever the fuck you’ve gotta say to make things right between you, because I didn’t get two rooms to spend the night shacked up with you.”
“You didn’t get two rooms, asshole. I did.”
“And you owe me. I plan to spend the night wrapped around my ol’ lady, so go fucking fix this.”
Joker stood and looked toward room #128, suddenly feeling like the conversation he and Holly were about to have may be the most important conversation of his life, and he hoped to God he got it right.
As he headed toward the room, Cat walked out. She met him halfway, and he stopped. “She okay?”
“I don’t know. She’s quiet and distant.”
“Did she say anything about what happened in the trailer? That guy—”
“Raymond Ortiz.”
Joker nodded. “You took Holly and fled when she was younger. Why?”
“I walked in and found him in her room on top of her. He had her pinned to the bed. Mom was out buying booze. I hit him over the head with a lamp, and we stuffed a bag with some clothes and ran. I had some money saved up, and it got us to New Orleans.”
“Him doin’ that… Was it the first time?”
“Yes, thank God.”
Joker’s jaw tightened as he thought of six different ways he could end Ortiz’s life. Whichever way he chose, one thing was for certain: the son-of-a-bitch would never see it coming.
“She needs you. She doesn’t want to, and she may never admit it, but she does. I’ve seen the way she i
s around you—happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. If that other woman is what you say she is, nothing but a ghost from your past—”
“She means nothing to me, Cat. I swear it to you. She’s the past. Holly… She’s my future.”
“I don’t know if Holly still wants you, but if she does, you better be good to her, Joker.”
His eyes moved past her to the door. If she still wants him…
Now he just had to make sure she still did.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… good luck,” Cat murmured.
“Thanks.” He watched Cat walk toward Blood who still sat by the pool. Then he turned and moved to room #128. He knocked on the door, and she must have looked through the peephole because he heard her muffled voice ordering him to go away.
“Holly, let me in.”
“No. Go away, Joker!”
He rested his palms on the frame, frustration growing inside him. It had been a long day and an even longer night. “Open the fucking door, Holly.”
No response.
“Fine. You want the entire motel to hear our business? It won’t stop me.”
The door flung open, and he was face to face with one pissed off woman. “What do you want?”
He pushed past her, put his hand on the door, and swung it shut with a bang. “I want to talk.”
“We’ve nothing to talk about.” She paced away.
“Babe, you just take off without a word? I called you a million times. What the hell?”
“You weren’t answering my calls. Why should I take yours?”
“Holly, what the fuck?”
“Is that all you’re concerned about? Why I didn’t answer my phone?”
“No, it’s not.” He blew out a breath to calm himself down. He knew he needed to handle this right. “Tell me about Raymond Ortiz.”
She whirled on him then and huffed out a laugh. “Good old Raymond? What of him? He’s just a man who taught me a lesson once. Taught me what it’s like to be a victim, to feel helpless and afraid. And he taught me well.”
“Then what the fuck were you doing there? Why in hell would you go back?”
Her hands landed on her hips. “Well, I wasn’t there to steal from him like he told you, that’s for sure.”
“I never believed that. You know that.”
“I went to get something—something that belonged to me!” She pressed her fist to her breastbone.
“What?” he asked softly. “What was worth putting your life in danger?”
She bent over the bed, dug through her bag, and took something out. It was a small frame. She held it up, showing him the photo. “My father. I wanted the only picture of my father and me. He walked in and caught me. I would have made it out, I almost did…”
She broke off, and he heard his own voice, thick with emotion, as he admitted, “I thought he was going to kill you… take you from me forever.”
Her expression softened at his words.
He ran his hand through his hair, stepping away, before pivoting back to her. “When I saw that place and everything in it—the empty booze bottles, the guns, the drugs… hell, and then your mom, what a piece of work she is. But do you want to know what the kicker was? Your room, and DREAM spelled out in letters above your bed. I thought about what dreams a young girl growing up in that hellhole must have had, and I wanted to kill them both.”
“Stop!” she snapped, her face angry. “Just stop. Do you think I wanted you to see that? To see the shit-show that was my home life? To have you look at my life and think how pathetic it was? I hated it. And I hate that you saw it.”
“Why? Do you honestly think you’re any less in my eyes because of it? That was your past—a past you had no control over. It was horrible, and I hate that you went through it, but you survived it, and look how strong you are now.”
She paced and rubbed her hands over her upper arms, edgy and nervous. “I’m not strong. I’m not. I just fool everyone, including you.”
“Baby…”
She whirled on him. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby. I’m just a job. You came and got me. You’ve done your duty to the club and Undertaker. I’m going back; you don’t have to worry. Congratulations, your job is finished. Now go.”
“Babe, you know I’d come for you, every single time, and it has nothing to do with Undertaker.”
“Do I know that? I’m not sure that I do.”
“You’re stubborn as hell, do you know that?”
“Get out!” She pointed at the door.
He ignored her order. “You still think that’s all you are to me? A job? After everything we’ve been through these last few months and after everything we’ve come to be to each other?” Joker was dumbfounded.
“What I thought I was to you was corrected for me when I walked in and found Whitney staying in your place.”
“She wasn’t staying at my place, Holly. I don’t know what bullshit she told you, but she shoveled it and you bought it. She means nothing. She told you a pack of lies.”
“Don’t give me that crap. Cat and Blood saw you two having dinner—the dinner I bought for us.”
“You bought?”
“Yes, I bought all your favorites. I was going to cook us dinner. It was going to be a celebration of… Hell, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“When I walked in, Whitney was cooking.”
“The food I brought over!”
“Holly, I had no idea she was coming. I was shocked as shit when I rode up and saw her car. And I had no idea you’d been there. She didn’t tell me.”
“Why would she? She wanted you all to herself.” She whirled. “You know what? I don’t even care. And if you’re not leaving, then I am.”
She was halfway to the door when he caught her around the waist with an arm. Her breath went out of her in a whoosh as he pulled her backward and spun her around then hauled her body flush against his, so tight she had to tilt her head to look up into his eyes.
“I forgot how fast you were.” She shoved against his chest, but her voice was a little breathless when she said those words. Good. It meant she wasn’t as immune as she pretended to be. He searched her eyes.
“No you didn’t. You remember. You remember everything about me.”
She flushed, pushing against his chest again. “What do you want?”
Her voice was exasperated, and he knew she was trying to cover the bit of response she’d just shown him. His brows lifted. “We’re not done with this conversation.”
“I am.”
“Well, I’m not. And you’re gonna listen, little brat. You’re gonna listen all the way to the end.”
She pushed out of his arms. “Fine. Say what you have to say and get out.”
He huffed out a breath and ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what game Whitney was playing, but it didn’t work. And do you know why it didn’t work, Hol? Because she’s not the one I want. You are.”
“Right.” She folded her arms and looked away.
“Yes, right. After all these months and everything we’ve been to each other, how could you think I want her?”
She shrugged but didn’t respond.
“What Whitney and I had—that’s in the past. This is now. I don’t love Whitney, Holly. I’m not in love with her, and do you know why?”
“I haven’t got a clue!” she snapped back, leaning toward him.
“Because I’m in love with you, you stubborn little brat. Not her. You!” He walked her back until she bumped against the dresser, and he settled his hands on her hips, his fingers clenching.
“What do you want from me, Joker?” She tried to twist away, but he held tight.
“The truth. Tell me the truth,” he ground out. He pressed his forehead against hers in frustration, and a moment later his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was rough and raw and filled with everything he’d tried to say. He broke off and lifted a hand to stroke the side of her head tenderly. “Don’t you know
how beautiful you are to me?”
***
Holly’s eyes slid closed at his gentle touch. She wanted to believe his words. He made it seem easy to believe. Everything seemed easier when he was holding her, touching her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him. And then Joker was kissing her again—kissing her like she’d wanted him to since she saw him come through that trailer door.
His fingers tangled in her hair. “Say it. Say it, little brat. Three little words.”
Three words, but oh-so-life-changing.
“Holly,” he growled her name, his face intense as he watched her, waiting for her to say I love you. When she hesitated, his face changed, it was almost as if the light went out of it as she watched. He stepped back. “You want me gone, then? You’re really done with us?”
When she stayed quiet, he took another step back, and she felt her heart breaking with each step.
He sank his hands in his hair. “Christ, you mean it, don’t you?”
“We’d never work out, Joker.”
“You want me to leave? You think I can stay gone?”
“Can’t you?”
His jaw ticked. “If you don’t want me, it’ll take everything in me to walk away because you’re all I think about, and nothing you say or do is going to change how I feel about you. I’m always going to love you. I’m always going to want you. And if you walk away, that’s what I’ll live with from now on.”
“I— I’m not the person you think I am. I’m a mess. What if I told you there is no fixing me? Are you still going to love me when it doesn’t get better? Because if I give you my heart and you walk away, it will destroy me.”
He studied her. “You brazen your way through situations, you pretend you’re hard and tough and that none of it affects you—your shitty mom, Raymond, what happened to you before Undertaker found you… all of it. But I know the truth. I know it. I know the pain you feel, I know the demons you struggle with, but I also know how much you fight to overcome it and have the life you deserve. I know how much love you have inside you. I know the real you, Holly. And I like you just the way you are.”