Jester

by Lilly Atlas

  Snake laughed and Emily’s world crashed around her.

  “I told you that you’d get Johnny back after my business was done.”

  “No. No please, you can’t.” She took two steps toward Johnny, but halted when she caught the look on Snake’s face. He’d have no problem ending Johnny right now.

  Casper gave Johnny a nudge and, to her amazement, her brother stood and stumbled toward the door. He hadn’t uttered a word, or even looked in Emily’s direction. The boy she knew was gone.

  “Count to sixty before you leave the house, Emily. You go running out of here making a scene and I’ll shoot Johnny right in your driveway. Got me?”

  She nodded. Speaking was impossible. She was too busy screaming at the top of her lungs inside her head.

  What the hell was she supposed to do now? She stood frozen, staring at Snake. If she told him she’d lied, he’d kill Johnny, probably kill her and he’d have the information about the No Prisoners’ plan. If she didn’t tell him, he’d find out tomorrow, after his money was gone. He’d kill Johnny for sure and probably hunt her down.

  Either way, Johnny ended up dead.

  There was one final option. She had to come clean to Jester. Come clean and beg him to help Johnny. He’d never forgive her, and she wouldn’t ask him to, but there was a chance he’d be willing to help rescue Johnny if he knew she’d tried to steer Snake off their trail.

  Snake disappeared and she started to count. When she hit sixty, she wiped at the drying tears on her face and raced out of her house. There wasn’t enough time to think about what a bad idea confessing to Jester really was. She was out of hope and would get on her knees and beg if need be.

  Jester rolled his bike to a stop out of view from the quaint house Emily disappeared into. Who the hell lived there? The quiet street reminded him of a nineteen fifties movie—or at least it would if any of those had taken place in the harsh desert climate.

  Grateful it was the middle of a work day, and no one seemed to notice the large biker slinking down the street, he made his way toward Emily’s house. Questions came in rapid fire succession.

  Who owned this house?

  Why was Emily keeping secrets?

  Was she in some kind of danger?

  The vibe Emily had given since the previous night screamed trouble. For some reason she didn’t trust him enough to share her burdens. Maybe it made him an asshole, but he was a man of action and felt compelled to follow her today.

  Jester stepped around the side of a house diagonally across the street from the one he spied on. The house had a raise porch with a wooden railing he pressed himself against. Hidden from view, he waited.

  Of course Emily didn’t trust him with her problems. They’d known each other for two weeks and he’d given her no reason to believe she was anything more than a passing fuck. He shook his head at himself and refocused on the house.

  After just a few minutes the door swung open and his stomach dropped to his booted feet.

  Christ, no.

  His first instinct was to charge across the street and wrap his hands around Snake’s throat for daring to be in the same space as Emily, but he gripped the wooden rail of the porch and held fast. Snake wasn’t stupid, he’d have back up stashed somewhere.

  “Load Johnny in the car then go back to the clubhouse. I’ll be there soon,” Snake instructed his bastard VP, Casper.

  Jester’s entire body vibrated with a rage he hadn’t known was possible. He gripped the rail so hard his hand ached, but the pain was welcome. Physical pain to match the emotional.

  After Casper shoved a man who looked like he’d been worked over good into the waiting car, they sped off. The door to the house flew open a second time and Emily raced down the walkway to her own car. She gunned the engine and peeled out of the driveway. She wasn’t here under duress. No gun was pointed at her. No one held her down. She walked in and out of that house of her own free will.

  Emily was working with Snake.

  He let the words roll around in his head, but they were hard to comprehend. Jester’s vision blurred as his world crashed around him. A loud crack startled him out of his trance and he glanced down at the broken porch rail in his hand.

  With a primal roar he threw the splintered lumbar toward the street and ran, full speed toward his bike. Blood seeped from a small shard of wood embedded in his palm. The sun scorched him, and sweat poured off his body like rain. He ignored it all. Nothing mattered beyond getting to the clubhouse before Emily could destroy what was left of his life.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Emily slammed her car into park and shoved the door open. Desperation and panic overrode her fear of revealing the truth to Jester.

  A bike peeled into the parking lot spraying dirt and gravel all over her car. Inconsiderate asshole. “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled as she climbed out of her car. “Jester?” One look at his face and her thoughts froze. “Wha-what’s wrong?” Her voice trembled.

  He didn’t answer and dread washed over her.

  “I need—” She swallowed. “I need to talk to you.” Her eyes darted around, unable to make contact with his.

  Fury like he had never known erupted from within him. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Emily stumbled and stopped moving toward him. Her mouth turned down and her eyes were as wide as bike tires. “What do you mean? You know who I am.”

  “I don’t know shit. Snake, Emily? Really? He send you here?”

  She paled and her arms dropped limply to her sides, her purse hitting the ground with a thud. “Oh my God. Jester, please let me—”

  He cut her off again, so furious he could barely tolerate her presence. “Are you fucking him?”

  “What? No! God, no, never.”

  “And who the fuck is Johnny? You fucking him too?”

  “Johnny? H-how do you know about Johnny?”

  He stared at her, letting all the hatred show in his glare. “What have you told him, Emily?”

  “Lies. I’ve told him lies to protect you. To protect your club.” Emily bit her bottom lip, something he’d teased her about countless times. Now the memories made him want to vomit.

  “Does he know about tomorrow?”

  She shook her head, opened her mouth then closed it again. Tears flowed down her face.

  “I asked you if he knows about tomorrow?” Jester screamed, unable to tamp down the rage and feeling of betrayal. Christ, he’d fallen in love with this woman and she’d played him for a fool. The internal admission only made the gnawing pain more intense.

  “No! No! He only knows enough to make it believable. I lied to him, to throw him off track. I swear it on my life.”

  “What was that last night then, Emily? Did you forget we had plans and invite Snake over so you could have a good laugh while you fucked him? Or maybe you were just going to suck him off? With all that I was fucking you, I can’t imagine you needed any more.”

  Emily trembled. “No, I could never…he’s horrible, Jester. Please listen to me.”

  A crowd had gathered. Club members stared at them in horror and confusion. Striker and Lila stood at the periphery. Lila appeared to be crying, though not nearly as hard as Emily. Her tears did nothing to soften him.

  “You sure played me, didn’t you? I fell hard for your little innocent act. You’re good, babe. I’ll give you that much.”

  “Jester, no! Please let me explain. Johnny is my brother—”

  He held up a hand, unwilling to listen to another of her lies. “If you think I’d believe anything that came out of your lying mouth now, you’re stupid as well as a traitorous bitch.” He shrugged. “I suppose it wasn’t a total waste of my time. At least I got a few mediocre fucks out of the deal.”

  The last of the color drained from Emily’s face, and Jester felt a millisecond of guilt for causing the look of complete and utter devastation that stared back at him. Then, like a physical slap, an image of Snake’s hands on her body popped into his head, and
he hoped that she felt at least a fraction of the horror he was feeling.

  Emily’s heart shattered into a million pieces. She’d been trying to prepare herself for this moment for two weeks, but the pain she’d anticipated was nothing compared to the reality of Jester’s contempt.

  “Jester, I…” The three words died in her throat. She couldn’t say it now. He’d never believe her, and probably hate her even more, if that was possible.

  “Don’t say it. Don’t you fucking say it! Get out of my face, Emily.” His tone was poisonous.

  “Jester,” she whispered, trying one more time to get through to him. Tentatively she reached a hand out, and placed it on his chest.

  He jerked back as though she’d burned him. “Do you have any idea what I should do to you right now? Do you realize that if you were a man I’d have killed you already?” He charged his six-foot-five frame toward her. “I’d have killed you!”

  A sob burst from Emily, and her legs gave out. She crumbled to the ground. The pain in her heart was so severe, death had to be preferable.

  “Get her the fuck out of my face.” Jester’s boots crunched over the gravel until the sound of a door slamming shook the air.

  Striker took charge of the spectators. “Everybody go! That means you too, Lila. Get in the clubhouse.”

  “But, Striker, maybe I should help you with her.”

  “Don’t push me on this, babe. Get in the clubhouse.” He turned and pressed a kiss to his fiancé’s lips. “Please.”

  Lila nodded and walked off.

  Emily’s sobs had abated and she leaned against the car, her breath coming in choppy gasps. Striker loomed above her, the look on his face only one notch down on the anger scale from Jester’s.

  “Let’s go.” He wrapped a surprisingly gentle hand around her arm, and helped her to stand. The touch was so in contrast with his hard voice, it made her head swim.

  “What—” She cleared her arid throat. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “No questions.” He propelled her forward, but she tensed and rooted her feet to the ground.

  “If you’re going to kill me, I’m not going to go willingly.”

  Striker rolled his eyes at her and chuckled. The asshole actually laughed at her.

  “I’m not going to kill you, Emily. I’m not even going to hurt you. But I can’t risk you having any contact with Snake for the next twenty-four hours. We’ll sort this out then. Move.”

  She walked next to him as he steered her toward the garage. Once inside he pointed toward a door at the back of the room. “Go.”

  She pushed the door open and peered inside the tiny five by five empty room with a cot in the far corner. One bare light bulb hung from the ceiling and cast a dim light into the room. It could be worse. There wasn’t a bed of nails or any other torture devices.

  “Make yourself comfortable. A different prospect crashes here each night, so someone’s always on the premises.”

  Emily stepped into the room and turned back to Striker. “Where will they stay tonight?”

  He smirked. “Right outside this door, darlin’.” He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb.

  She supposed she should be grateful he wasn’t making someone sleep in here with her.

  “One question, and God help you if you lie to me.”

  She looked him right in the eye. If there was any chance of making him believe her, she had to hold it together. No more falling apart like she did in the parking lot. Johnny still wasn’t free. “What’s your question?”

  “Does Snake know that we will be waiting for him at the mountain pass tomorrow? Truth, Emily.”

  “No.” Her voice sounded strong. That was good. “He knows that you know about his deal tomorrow.” She told him word for word what’s she’d said to Snake.

  One of Striker’s eyebrows rose and he looked at her as though she was a puzzle he couldn’t decipher.

  “That’s the truth.”

  He nodded. “For your sake, I hope so.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

  “Striker, wait,” Emily called after him.

  He stopped but didn’t turn to look at her.

  “Snake has Johnny. He was supposed to let him go today. He lied to me.” Fresh tears flowed down her face. “Please, can you—”

  “You can’t ask me to rescue your lover.”

  Emily gasped. “He’s not my lover. He’s—” The door closed, cutting her off. She ran forward and slammed her palm against the metal surface. “He’s my brother! Striker, he’s my brother!”

  Met with silence, Emily sunk to the floor and buried her face in her palms.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jester stood in the meeting room, his palms down on the table, head bent, bowed between his shoulders. He ignored the sound of the door opening. Striker had ordered him to wait in here when he entered the clubhouse. A strange mix of shock, heartbreak, and betrayal, made him feel somewhat detached from reality.

  He rubbed at an unfamiliar ache in his chest that throbbed in time with his head. The only thing he could think of to ease his pain and sorrow would be to lose himself in Emily’s sweet softness. It was sick, and made him only one tiny step away from being as much of a traitor as she was.

  The door flew open and Striker burst into the room, a dark scowl on his face. “Emily is stashed in the closet in the garage, and my woman is upstairs freaking out. What the fuck happened, brother?”

  Jester laughed, a defeated sound of self-disgust. “Snake sent Emily here.”

  Striker remained silent.

  Jester stood and looked Striker in the face. After he’d nearly brought down the club, the least his VP deserved was the straight up truth delivered with respect. “I followed Emily to a house out in Sandy Springs today. She met with Snake. She wasn’t there under duress. She walked in and out willingly. Only thing I heard was something about some guy named Johnny. Snake sent her to us to find out what we were planning. She admitted that much to me.”

  Saying those words out loud was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Admitting his failures and admitting his shame.

  Striker rubbed a hand over his face. “Holy fucking shit. I did not see this coming.”

  Jester grunted. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  “Christ, man, I’m sorry. I know she was coming to mean something to you.”

  He didn’t know the half of it, but Jester just shrugged as though it was no big deal, as though the pain in his chest wasn’t all consuming. “No matter. I’m done with her now.”

  Striker folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the closed door. “She claims she threw Snake off our trail. Told him we knew about the drop off, but made up a story about our plans.” He filled Jester in on what Emily had relayed to him.

  With a heavy sigh, Jester shook his head. “Don’t be as stupid as I was, brother. She’s good. Knows just how to get you to believe what she needs you to believe. She’s probably been fucking Snake this whole time. This Johnny guy too.” Nausea rose at the thought of another man’s hands on his woman.

  “You really believe that, man? She’s been with you every fuckin’ night. Says Johnny’s her brother.”

  Jester dropped into a chair and banged his forehead against the table. Physical pain was preferable to the emotional anguish. “Christ, she’s got my head so fucked up, I don’t know what to believe.”

  Striker pushed off the wall and sat across the table from Jester. “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but it’s possible she’s telling the truth. You’ll get your chance to find out. Snake is bringing Johnny to the mountain pass tomorrow. We snag him, we get some answers.”

  Jester sat back in his chair, and gripped the edge of the Sergeant at Arms patch on the left side of his cut. With a jerk, he ripped it off in one swipe, and tossed it on the table in front of Striker.

  “What the fuck are you doing man?” Striker’s voice was full of outrage.

  “There’s
no fuckin’ way I deserve that. I brought her here, to the club, to your woman. Christ, Striker, do you know how many of us could be killed tomorrow if Snake is ready for us? And we aren’t certain he won’t be.”

  Striker shook his head. “You need to pull your head out of your ass, brother. This is not on you. If she’s lying, then we all fell for her act. Every last one of us liked that woman. There was no reason to suspect anything. And like I said, we don’t know anything for sure yet.”

  “What the fuck would Lila do if you’d been killed because of some conniving bitch I brought to the club?” Jester yelled.

  “She’d survive, Jester. She knows what the hell our life is, what the risks are. She’s a strong woman, and she’d survive. Put that patch back on. We leave in fifteen minutes. I don’t want to hear fuck about it again or I’ll kick your ass, no matter how much of a giant you are.”

  Striker held up his hands as though surrendering before he spoke again. “Don’t knock me out, but you’re not thinking straight right now. All you see is a betrayal from the woman you love. You need to step back and think about it objectively.”

  “Are you kidding me with this shit? What? You go and get engaged, now you think you’re fuckin’ Dr. Phil or something?”

  Striker wisely kept his mouth shut.

  Jester gripped the edges of the table with enough force to dent the metal, letting out a deafening male growl of frustration. “When I saw Snake walk out of that house, it felt like someone reached in my chest, pulled out my heart and ran over it with a semi. I’d take a bullet over that kind of pain any day.” His voice was a croak, thick with suffering.

  He shook his head, picked up the patch, and stormed out of the room. He needed to be alone. Well, maybe not totally alone. Jack Daniels was certainly welcome to join him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Acer slapped Jacko on the back and inclined his head in the direction of the clubhouse. “Take fifteen. I need to ask our guest a few questions.”