Beyond Redemption: Joker (Serpents MC Las Vegas Book 1)

by Barbara Nolan

  He threw it on the bed, then pulled a clean pair of jeans out of his duffel and tugged them on.

  “Geez, that was disappointing. I thought I might get a little show.”

  “What put you in such a good mood?” he grumbled. In his opinion, mornings should start at noon. Joker had always been a night owl and rarely got to the motorcycle shop until one or two in the afternoon. Doing his best work at night fit the biker lifestyle perfectly. Another change he’d have to make as a citizen—that or get a job as a night watchman.

  “My headache is gone, and the bruising has faded to a yellowy green. Plus, I get amped up before a job.” She smiled. “Best high without a hangover.”

  He grunted as he shrugged on a clean t-shirt, thinking part of his bad mood centered around knowing their time together would soon be over.

  “Mmmm, so you’re one of those grumpy morning people, shaking for that first cup of coffee.”

  “Don’t mention coffee unless you’re hiding a cup behind your back.”

  “Sorry, no, but I do know a place we can get some.” Daisy patted his ass as she headed toward the shower. “Be out in a minute.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  An hour later they sat in the Camry and sipped hot coffee while parked across the street from the Green Parrot, a local dive bar owned by Esteban Sandoval.

  “I thought Miami was hot and humid, but this place is like a tropical jungle.” Joker pulled at the neck of his t-shirt.

  They’d shut off the car for fear of it overheating, and even Daisy wiped her brow a few times because of the oppressive heat.

  “I wanted you to get a feel for the place and be familiar with the entrances and exits so that everything goes smooth tonight.”

  Joker nodded, and she pointed to the rear of the building. “You’ll enter through the back, where there’ll be one guard who’s usually distracted with his phone. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble overpowering him.”

  “This guy is some big drug runner, and he’s only got one guy guarding his door?”

  “He’s got more men in the main bar, but that’s the beauty part. Esteban’s so sure of his own power, he’d never imagine that anyone would cross him. He’s a narcissist who’s been ruling the Keys for so long he’s gotten cocky.

  “Until Rico screwed him outta two hundred thousand bucks.”

  That’s why Rico’s scam has him so twisted up. It’s as much about the loss of face as it is about the money.” Daisy leaned to his side of the car and pointed. You’ll go around to the back.”

  He squinted against the sun. “Looks a little sketchy.”

  The Green Parrot’s front entrance was street level with the rear of the building held up on stilts that sloped down over the marshy, stagnant water.

  “Local gossip and DEA agents agree that many of Esteban’s enemies spent their final days in the reptile-ridden waters.”

  “Snakes?”

  Daisy smiled at his unease.

  “I’ll just blast them.” He patted the gun in his waistband.

  “About that.”

  “What?”

  “No guns. I mean, no guns with real bullets.”

  “There’s no way I’m going in there without a loaded gun.” Joker shook his head. “No fuckin’ way.”

  “After going down for a weapons charge, I would think you’d be worried about your parole.”

  “Not gonna matter too much if I’m dead.”

  “You’ll easily overpower the guard with your fighting skills. Then you barge into Esteban’s office and grab the money.”

  “The first thing he’s gonna do is pull a gun on me.”

  “Not if I’m distracting him.” He didn’t like the gleam in her eyes.

  “What exactly do you mean by distract?”

  Daisy tilted her head in a what-do-you-think-I-mean look.

  “Fuck, no.”

  “If you’ll stop being so stubborn and listen, you’ll see that it’s the perfect plan.”

  Joker wasn’t used to listening. He was used to people listening to him and doing what he said. This back and forth debate was bullshit.

  “You’ll tell him you’re one of Rico’s guys and that he sent you to take back the money. It’s an old con: stealing back your own money while I make Esteban think I’m on his side.

  “I don’t know.” This plan of hers sounded fucked up with enough holes to get them both iced.

  “Esteban’s ego is his downfall, believe me.” She shifted in the seat. “Then I stay behind and tell him how Rico is getting out of control. If my guess is right, he won’t even involve his other goons because he certainly wouldn’t want to admit that Rico scammed him twice.”

  “I don’t like leaving you there.”

  “It’s so easy.”

  “What’s easy is grabbing the two hundred thousand dollars and disappearing.”

  “And keep running and hiding for the rest of your life? I thought you wanted something better for your son.”

  He stilled, and she reached out to him. “I’m sorry. What you do with your son is your business, but I know these people, and they will not let all that money go. Esteban will have to take it out on Rico, and we’ll be free and clear. After all, I tried to return the money, and you’ll be another one of Rico’s lackeys. Esteban has no idea who you are.”

  “Or I tell Esteban I’m Darius.” Joker rubbed the back of his head. “Let him go after that asshole.”

  “I think I’ve done enough to him already. He’s not a threat, and he doesn’t deserve that.”

  “Right, he just clocked me on the head with a fuckin’ tire iron and then slashed me with a blade.”

  “You can blame me for that, not him.”

  Joker curled his lip. “Whatever.”

  He looked into her brown eyes long and hard. What a sap he’d become. At the club, the guys answered to him, and now he was letting her call the shots and make the plan—a plan he didn’t think had a chance in hell of working. But it wasn’t about being the boss, it was about coming out of this shit show alive and keeping her safe, because if anything happened to—

  “You like pizza?”

  Daisy changed the subject as if they hadn’t been talking about a heist that would probably end both of them.

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Great place around the corner. We’ll bring it back to the room. Don’t want to chance running into anyone I know before tonight.”

  Joker and Daisy sat cross-legged on the bed and ate the pizza right out of the box. It was pretty good—not as good as New York pizza, but better than he thought it would be.

  After that, they went over all the plans for the night. Things that would go right and things that could go wrong. She made sure they looked at every angle until his head spun with details.

  Daisy seemed totally energized while an edgy tension jumped through him. Part of it had to do with the outfit she’d pulled out of the garment bag for him to wear. It was exactly the same as those worn by the guys who’d shadowed her in South Beach: super-tight tailored pants, a button down fitted shirt, and shoes that would probably pinch his feet.

  “You seem tense.”

  “Back in the bad, old days when we did big jobs with the club, I’d shoot some Jack and hoover a few lines, then take a few hits off the pipe and be a crazy combination of chill and wired. Kinda like, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m gonna mess you up.’”

  “This isn’t a smash and grab—you have to be sharp.”

  “A great theory, but hard as fuck to sit around all day straight and amped up at the same time.” Joker pulled out his cigarettes. “I’m going outside. No sense in making this room smell any worse.”

  “After tonight, you’ll never have to see this room again.”

  After tonight, Joker hoped he’d be seeing anything again.

  “When you come back in, we’ll go over our meet-up place one more time.”

  Outside, gnats and mosquitos swarmed around the light over the door, and the sticky night air sm
elled of fish and stagnant water. He leaned against the peeled aluminum siding, which seemed to be holding the place together, then lit up and dragged in two puffs at once. The Camry was the only car in the lot. Made sense since most drug deals and shady business transactions happened on the weekends, and even the most economical tourist wouldn’t venture into this dump.

  A still, eerie darkness surrounded the area beyond the motel lights like one of those horror movies with the slasher waiting in the shadows. He flicked on the burner phone and studied the address she’d entered: Seacoast Marina. Boat slip number five. The Shady Lady. Appropriate name for a boat they were going to use to hide out in and make their escape.

  Daisy poked her head out the door and swatted away the mosquitos. “I told you those things are going to kill you.” She pointed at his cigarette.

  He laughed at what was becoming their inside joke. Somehow smoking didn’t seem to be as deadly as going up against a drug kingpin. He glanced at his phone again. “So, what’s your connection to the owner of the Shady Lady?”

  She paused like the question was too hard or the answer was too complex.

  “Lizbeth is a friend, a confidant … motherlike.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “She came to Florida from Columbia with her son ten years ago, looking for those streets paved with gold. What she found was prejudice, minimum wage, and poverty until she hooked up with Esteban. Her hidden talent of piloting boats came in very handy for moving Esteban’s product up and down the Florida coast. No one suspected the heavyset middle-aged woman of any wrongdoing until a deal went bad.”

  Joker knew he wasn’t going to like the rest of the story.

  “Esteban let her take the blame, which resulted in the disappearance of her teenage son.”

  “Disappearance, like they never found him.” Joker flicked his cigarette.

  “Hard to find someone after they’ve been dropped in the Everglades.”

  “Shit,” he mumbled. He could relate to that brand of pain.

  “Time to get ready.” Daisy smiled brightly. “Getting close to showtime.”

  Joker followed her into the room. She’d laid out his clothes on the bed, and something about them gave him a bad vibe. Just like that wonky feeling he’d gotten while sitting outside the Green Parrot this afternoon. All this sneaking around, double backing, and double-crossing was a long way from knocking down a door and grabbing whatever the hell you wanted. But Daisy had been right about one thing: Esteban would never give up his search for them if he thought they’d screwed him, and Joker couldn’t take that chance with his son’s life. So he’d let her plan it out, and he’d play it out even if it killed him not to be in charge.

  She’d packed up the hooker outfit and wig and had already changed into another version of her Miami attire: cream-colored pants, loose enough to be classy but hugging in all the right places, topped off with a white silk blouse, strategically buttoned so just enough cleavage showed. Daisy had combed her hair in a soft, loose style with a deep part, so it swooped over one eye. Again, classy but sexy. Every square inch of her was made for a man to wonder what might be available.

  “You’re beautiful, but I gotta say, you rocked that blonde hair.” He licked his lips.

  “Fooled the desk clerk into thinking you were entertaining a hooker and got us out of Miami.”

  Joker pulled on the pants, then zipped and buttoned them. They fit fine, but he wasn’t used to wearing pants so tight. It felt weird, same with the shirt. If he ever had to throw a punch, he’d pull the seams right out of the arm. These clothes were definitely not made for action. Next came the shoes, which were another brand of hell as he squeezed his size fourteens into the narrow Italian leather. Tight and uncomfortable.

  “You act like you’re being tortured.”

  “Just about.”

  “Manny did a great job with the sizes.” She smirked. “Just so you know, I think he has a little crush on you. When I told him what I needed, he said he’d put your measurements to memory.”

  “That’s creepy and flattering at the same time.”

  She waved him over to the chair. “Sit down so I can fix your hair.”

  “My hair?”

  “Right now, your clothing says Miami cool, but your hair still says hard-ass biker.” She pointed to the chair. “Sit, I’ll be gentle.”

  Joker reluctantly sat down and peered up at her. “What’re you gonna do?”

  She squeezed some of her hair product into her palm. “Just a few tweaks.”

  Daisy massaged the product into his hair, which, if they weren’t going on a suicide mission, would’ve felt pretty damn good. When she turned on her blow-dryer, he was glad not to be facing the mirror.

  After a few minutes, Daisy turned it off and admired her work. “You have beautiful hair. She tousled it a bit. “So soft and shiny.”

  “Thanks, I think.” Joker had never given his hair much thought. When it got too long, he had one of the girls at the clubhouse cut it, or he did it himself.

  She stood in front of him and examined her work. “You’re very handsome.”

  “Stop bullshitting me.” Most times, he hated looking in the mirror, but that might’ve had to do more with his conscience than his looks.

  Daisy pulled Joker out of the chair and dragged him over to the flimsy mirror attached to the bathroom door. She squeezed in next to him and smiled. “Very sexy.”

  All he could think of were those magazine ads where they try to make the pretty boy appear tough. Only, in his case, it came off like the complete opposite. He remembered how they’d laughed at one of his buddies when he'd put a suit on for a wedding. All dressed up, and he still looked like he could murder somebody.

  “We look good together.” Daisy gazed into the mirror.

  “We don’t even look like we live on the same planet.” He pushed her in front of him. “You’re beautiful and sleek and so damn classy, and I’m about as far away from that as you can get.”

  She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Your eyes are such an unusual shade of brown, dark with little flecks of gold. Beautiful. And your body is firm and streamlined like a cougar in the jungle. Sleek.”

  “Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? I walk into any convenience store, and the clerk has his hand under the counter, getting ready to push the silent alarm. Most times, when I go in for a pack of smokes, I tell the guy straight out, ‘Hey, I’m cool, not here to jack you up.’”

  “I don’t need a man with some fancy manners and dressed in designer clothes.”

  “Did you see the look on that kid’s face at that convenience store yesterday? That’s pretty much the look I get on the regular.”

  “You were also shirtless with a bloody t-shirt wrapped around your arm, and I was dressed like the hooker from hell.”

  Joker smiled at the memory. “I bet that kid had pleasant dreams that night.”

  Daisy smashed her lips together, trying to look annoyed, then smiled. “The way you protect me and make me feel safe is very classy.” She ran her warm hands over his chest, and he lowered his lips to her neck.

  “As much as I’d love to do this, I always make it a rule. No sex before a job.”

  “You’re like an athlete.” He joked.

  “All the more for us to celebrate tonight.”

  Joker hoped they’d be celebrating and not scoping out the nearest hospital—or worse. He wanted to put his trust in her, but trusting anyone came hard, and not being in charge came even harder.

  Chapter Twenty

  Joker sat on the edge of the bed as Daisy arranged the money in her oversized Gucci. When she was satisfied, she closed the clasp and checked her phone.

  “The Uber is six minutes away.”

  He rubbed his hands against his thighs and wished they could get this going.

  “Our meet is for midnight, but Esteban will make me wait.” Daisy’s voice snapped him back. “A power play of his, so you show up at twelve thirty. That should give
me plenty of time to set him up and get him to believe me.”

  “When does the distracting part start?” He couldn’t help the sarcasm in his voice.

  “About five minutes before you storm in. I’ll have my phone on vibrate, so call after you park the car.”

  “Right.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt.

  This time Daisy picked up on his sarcasm. “It’s going to work, just stick to the plan.” She practically bounced with excitement.

  “Meet up at Seacoast Marina, slip number five.” He paused. “Just like cabana number five.” He twisted his lips. “Let’s hope slip number five has better luck.”

  She cocked her head. “I think cabana number five was very lucky. I met you.”

  He pushed off the bed, then pulled her to him and inhaled her scent. Clean, citrusy. He didn’t know how she did it, but she always smelled like an orange orchard.

  “We need a safety word if things go south later,” she said. “Like a code word or phrase, a way for us to tell each other that we have a plan of action.”

  He screwed up his lips. “Don’t worry, baby, if things turn to shit, I’ll get you outta there.”

  She smiled at him. “That’s it—‘Don’t worry, baby.’”

  He furrowed his brow.

  “If things get crazy, one of us will say, ‘Don’t worry, baby,’ and the other will know to be alert.”

  Daisy adjusted the Gucci bag on her shoulder, and he pulled her in for one more kiss.

  “Nothing’s going to go wrong.” The optimism and determination in her voice blew him away.

  Her phone buzzed. “All right, the Uber’s here.”

  He cupped her face with his palms. “Be safe.”

  “Always.” She kissed him on the lips. Hard. Like she wanted him to remember.

  Joker grabbed her hand and squeezed. “See you on the other side.”

  She nodded and was out the door. He watched her slip into the Hyundai and slam the door. When the headlights faded away, he pulled out his phone and punched in Derek’s number.

  “Hey.” That one word from his son made his chest ache.