Page 1 of The Queen's Joker

Chapter one

Today is the day I have been waiting for my whole life. It has been years in the making, and finally, it’s my last mission. As strange as it is to say, I never thought I would make it to this point in my life. The goal that was set for us all seemed impossible. I should be excited. There should be butterflies in my stomach and a sense of accomplishment, yet all I can think is why I am filled with a sense of dread instead of excitement. It’s just like any other mission; you get the jitters. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it will sink in, and I will believe it. Dread has been all-consuming and every step I’ve taken lately has been with my death heavy on my mind. It’s been so bad that I debated leaving a note behind. Yet, I refuse to give in to the delusions that have been plaguing my mind. Then, why have you told them all goodbye?

It is true. I have said goodbye to all my brothers in my own personal way without giving them reasons to worry. Joker is the only person I haven’t and I don’t know how to begin that conversation. My fingers run absentmindedly over the thick fabric of the tactical gear I stuffed into my go-bag. With a heavy sigh, I zip the bag up and walk through my small apartment, ensuring I forgot nothing. My brothers always insisted on an over-the-top living space, but I needed little.

I have two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room combo, and one and a half baths. They act like girls are supposed to be the divas, but I’m pretty sure it’s the men in my life. One day, we will live in the upper levels of this place, but we have to earn it. Earn it, we do, from blood, sweat, and by cutting off most of our humanity. Each piece of myself I cut off or have to leave behind, I wonder if it is worth it. Everyone keeps assuring me it’s all worth it. There is a part of me that isn’t sure anymore. As I walk to the kitchen for a bottle of water, I scan everything, ensuring I didn’t set something down on one of the side or coffee tables.

Maybe it’s the weight of feeling like I always have something to prove to my family. Besides my mother, I am the only female who will become a future leader, which doesn’t help my cause. The woman hates me and seems to always be set out to punish me. It doesn’t matter how hard I push myself or how great I do; there is always more I could have done. Or better yet, something that I should have done. Maybe that’s why my hands are sweating and I feel like an ulcer is forming in my stomach. Walking into the bathroom, I grab some anti-acids and chew on a handful. I walk out the door, still chewing them, and their chalky taste leaves a residue on my lips. I run the back of my sleeve over them to remove the white substance as I push the button for the elevator. While I wait, I close my eyes, envisioning my mother’s smug face when she handed me my packet for this mission. If you could even call it a packet… She is so vague on the details, which leaves my mind running through all sorts of scenarios.

Whenever she looks at me lately, it sends a chill down my spine. Maybe it’s because she never thought I would complete all the obstacles that stood in my way. Or perhaps she doesn’t want to fulfill her portion of the contract she had us sign years ago. Whatever the reason might be, I want it to stop. She is making me have anxiety and clear signs of an ulcer.

The elevator doors open, and I stroll toward the exit of the building. I hope those anti-acids kick in before the van arrives. When I reach the glass doors, I pause as I peer outside. There stands Joker with his go-bag at his feet. As I hold on to the metal handle of the door, I debate about heading outside to join or watch him. This is my goodbye, or at least the only one I will allow myself to have. To watch him without his knowledge and to admire his body. Joker takes his silver Zippo lighter with a black skull out of his pocket. He flips it open and lights up a cigarette before closing it and putting it back in his pocket. When I open the door, he inhales his cigarette deeply, letting the smoke out in a stream. He must sense eyes on him. Joker turns his head slightly and locks eyes with me. He cocks his eyebrow up at me and shoots a grin that has butterflies invading my stomach. The man does something to my nervous system that I cannot describe. His tattooed fingers flip the ash off the top of his cigarette before returning it to his lips, shining a light on his face in the darkness. The hood of his black sweatshirt is over his head, and his whole vibe screams danger, yet all I want to do is embrace the threat of Joker. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t want that?

I push myself forward and stand beside the man who makes my brain short-circuit. “Queen.” His gruff voice hits my nervous system like a hit from a joint. With my anxiety lessening from his presence, I inhale his scent. He smells of tobacco, smoke, and fresh laundry, which calms my racing heart. I want to ask for a hug to have that scent envelop me, even for a moment. It is a moment that I wish I could feel grounded and secure. Maybe it would linger throughout my mission to help calm me. Don’t give into weakness; don’t show how weak you are for this man. He only sees you as a sister. Love is something you’re not allowed to have; after all, anything you care about will be ripped from you. Instead, I step closer so we stand shoulder to shoulder. The cold air has moved in, so seeking his warmth is not too odd.

“You’re going on a mission as well, I take it?” I’m stating the obvious, but I want to know his assignment. Since mine is unknown, I wonder if his mission might also be. Once you made it to a team, you knew your mission. With his go-bag in tow and no team in sight, I imagine he pissed off Mother once again. She is very crafty when it comes to everyone’s punishments.

He slips his fingers into his pocket and pulls a folded piece of paper, holding it out to me between two fingers. I reach out and graze his skin, wanting to feel his warmth momentarily. I know I stand no chance with this man. However, that doesn’t stop me from dreaming about the possibility of what could have been…if he didn’t see me as a sisterly type, the type of woman who needs protection. Who better to protect me than my brothers and himself? He is worse than my actual brothers at being overprotective. Hopefully, with this mission behind me, I can prove that I don’t need anyone watching me. That I am a woman and not a little girl anymore.

When our fingers touch, I swear I feel a current run through me. What would it be like to have his hands roam over my body? The thought makes me shiver. To be the object of his desires and have those dangerous fingers bring me to orgasm. My eyes blink, and I shake my head, trying to focus again. I unfold the paper, but his note only says “recon” and “mentally strenuous.” My head tilts to the side, looking up at him with confusion. “I thought you already completed all your training and only got sent out on regular missions now?” My finger wants to crumble the note because even when we complete the impossible before us, a new hoop gets brought out for us to jump through. We are her little puppets, and she is our puppet master.

A grunt is the only response I get before he takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Me too. I am being punished for my behavior.” His lips twitch with a ghost of a smile as he confirms my suspicions.

I bite my lower lip, thinking about all the punishments I experienced firsthand from Mother over the years. “Oh, fuck, what did you do now?” It terrifies me how much he likes to push my mother, yet there is a small part of me that finds it incredibly sexy. Clearly, I am stereotypical and want the boy from whom your parents want you to stay away. However, the terrified part of me wins out since I am so afraid she will make me watch as she has him killed. It wouldn’t be the first time she made me watch something I love die. Friends, animals, and even a few relatives. That’s why it’s easier not to love or show your emotions. To watch them from afar, and maybe it won’t hurt as badly when they’re gone.

Even if I wanted to stop her, I knew there would be nothing I could do. If I even tried, she wouldn’t hesitate to make me the next one to die. She is still in charge, and even though I’m her daughter, she wouldn’t hesitate. Growing up, she had a bullet for each of us in her desk drawer, the one she and our father promised would be the one to end us. At least it would be a headshot and over. Torture and pain are usually more her style, but the message was received either way. However, whatever she has in store for Joker, she will make him heel. I’m unsure if making him a leashed dog to carry out her plans and motivations would ever be possible. Maybe I hope that because if that happens, it will kill a part of the world I love. Having him become loyal to Mother would probably break my heart because that’s part of his charm–his wildness.

“Your mother needed to be put into her place and I was very honest about it.” He moves his hand to the side of my face, touching my hair before tucking it behind my ear, which causes my breath to catch. His eyes widened slightly, almost as if he didn’t mean to do that, but the look was gone less than a second later.

“Please don’t antagonize her. The punishment is usually worse than you think.” My hand reaches for his hand and gives it a light squeeze. He needs to hear my words and the warning. “I don’t want to see you get yourself killed because you can’t stop yourself from telling her off. Like it or not, she is in charge. Hang on a little longer because soon we will all run this place, then you can mouth off to my brothers all you want.” He should know this; I am not the only one who has said this to him. It’s different, though. He hasn’t seen everything she is capable of. Mother seems to have a way of figuring out what makes each person tick. She has plans for Joker. Even if he isn’t aware of the plans, she probably has his life mapped out to her liking.

Part of me wonders if my attraction to Joker may be because of our proximity. However, other men here at the Deck were equally attractive. None of them held a fraction of Joker’s dangerous bad-boy attitude. Why must bad boys be so panty-melting? There is just something about thinking that you could save them. Or perhaps we want them to be bad for everyone else but us. I know what he is capable of, and it should scare me, but it doesn’t. We are all capable of terrible deeds. However, there must be something about him for my parents to take him in. There is something about a man who is capable of such danger: to have his hands sliding down your body, knowing he could kill you in an instant, yet all he wants is to use his expert fingers to bring you pleasure. A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps spread down my arms. I have got to stop thinking about his hands on my body. My panties are soaked from this interaction, and the thoughts are running through my mind.

With that, he chuckles. I wish he would take this seriously. “Only mouth off to your brothers and not you?” He smiles before shaking his head. “Queen, she cannot do anything that I cannot handle. You don’t know my life before the Deck. I can handle myself.”

My eyes roll, and I give an unladylike snort because he also didn’t understand life before he got here. “I’m always right, and you know it. But you’re being foolish, underestimating your opponent. She studies each person to find their weakness, testing until she finds it.” I keep my voice to a whisper as a shiver starts in my spine before spreading to the rest of my body. She isn’t the bogeyman, but damn if she didn’t give him a run for his money. Mother has a way of chipping away anything you hold dear without realizing it. Then, suddenly, you’re holding yourself together in pieces before you finally drop away from anything important. There is a particular art to it in a way. It wouldn’t surprise me if she were listening and watching right now. The woman has a way of knowing things that leave you broken.

He looks lost in thought for a moment before returning to the present. He throws his head back as if considering my words, maybe? Or perhaps he is looking for a way to get out of this conversation. His cigarette almost burns down to the filter as he stares at it. “Too bad I don’t have any weaknesses.” He winks at me before adding, “I’ll be fine, Queen. You’ll see.”

I shake my head, knowing everyone has a weakness. Even I know mine, or at least the four in my life, who matter the most to me. My head turns as I hear gravel under the tires. Two black vans pull up and their side doors open, signaling it is time. We walk together to the vans before I turn to the one beckoning me. I look at Joker one more time. Needing to memorize his eyes one last time. “I hope that’s true. Be safe.” Not waiting for a reply, I turn away to go into my van. Feeling his eyes on me, I add more sway to my hips—one last look. My eyes meet his, and I give him a slight wave.

I set my bag down on the van’s back seat floorboard. When I go to grab my seatbelt, the door slides shut. A gasp leaves my throat when a needle jabs into my neck. My hands claw at the hand holding the syringe. I scream, hoping that Joker is close enough to help me. Missions don’t start like this. No, this is something else entirely. My body flies forward in an attempt to reach for the door handle. My limbs already feel heavy and my head smacks the passenger seat. When everything else fails, I let out one last scream for Joker while being pulled backward by my ponytail. The quicker my heart pounds, the faster the tranquilizer takes over my body.

Then my world goes dark.

Chapter two

My eyes struggle to open when I first wake. I hate being sedated. My body always feels heavy and my eyelids work against me. The memory slams into me, and the heavy reality of what happened sets in. Queen! That thought makes my eyes cooperate and open, even though my head feels like it’s being split in half from the headache forming behind my eyes. My eyes feel swollen in their sockets. All I know is that I have to get to Queen. Her scream for help continued to ring in my ears, and I could do nothing to stop it. I don’t stop pulling against the restraints, and my muscles don’t want to cooperate as I do a chin-up and drop my body, testing their strength. I look for any sign of weakness in them, but my eyes are still adjusting to the darkness.

The large TV turns on before me, causing my retinas to burn from the bright white screen. Then, Regina’s face stares at me. Her eyes seem bright and excited as she gives me a smile that shows her teeth. That sight alone makes my hackles rise. It is a rare sight for her to smile, but with teeth? She will be wrong about whatever she thinks she is about to win. At least, that’s the hope. She takes her time and takes a sip from her teacup, setting it down on her saucer. Regina loves a dramatic flair, but I haven’t seen her look at me like this. She usually looks annoyed and frustrated from dealing with one of my misgivings. I remind myself that this is just training and will be something I might experience in the field. The woman has been trying to break me since she got me and has never gotten far in her efforts. I glare at her. Seriously, were people going to come in and beat me with baseball bats? Am I the pinata? Is that the master plan?

“Joker, Joker, Joker. You’re one tough person to crack, but I figured it out. Let me also say how disappointing it is to find out your weakness is her.” Her nostrils flare, and her mouth twitches like she has a foul taste in her mouth. She leans forward, and her voice gets low, yet you can hear the threat behind them. “The whole thing makes you pathetic, along with delusional. However, I want you to remember that this wasn’t supposed to be this hard on her. I suppose two birds, one stone, as they say.” My blood runs cold, but I don’t let my face show any emotion. “I am sure you are putting it all together. You’re probably mistaken if you think you know what will happen. I love a good shock value.” Her lips thin, and she takes another sip of her tea. “Yes, she is my daughter, but she is a means to an end. Step out of line again, and I will have a repeat performance until I grow bored and make you watch as she takes her last breath and the light leaves her eyes.” I remember Queen’s warning about not underestimating her mother. All the blood drains out of my face, feeling like a fool.

With that, the screen goes blank before a camera feed turns on. Before my eyes is Queen, tied to a bed naked; she struggles against her restraints, which causes me to pull against mine. I have pictured her hundreds of times restrained the same way in my bed, and I get hard just looking at the sight. I take in the walls of the building, trying to place it, and I know the building she is in. One of my training sessions was there. All the addresses blur together as my thoughts race, and I try to think about how to get there. Maybe it’s my panic, but my brain doesn’t want to be helpful. “How the fuck is this training?” she screams. She doesn’t have any idea what is about to happen. Why would she? Her mother wouldn’t be so deprived to have her assaulted in more ways than one. I pull myself back up and drop my weight again, trying to get this shitty restraint broken.

My heart stills as the door opens, pausing as a masked man enters the room. He smirks at the camera as he walks over to Queen. He knows I am watching, and I scream before pulling myself back up and continue trying to get free. “Queenie, you do not know how much fun we will all have. How long have I thought about doing this very thing? Just know the more you resist, the worse this will be for you.” He chuckles as he unbuckles his belt, pulling it off with one swift tug.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she screams while fighting the restraints, her body pulling up off the bed with effort. Unfortunately for her, the restraints will not budge. She bucks and pulls but gets nowhere with them.

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