Page 1 of Queen Of WildCards

CHAPTERONE

JOKER

"Itold you this was a bad fucking idea, you numbskull."

Acegrowled through the phone at me, his voice laced with a sigh that would make any dom trainer proud.Iwas beginning to think my kink was pissing him off by being a brat.

Wouldmake fucking sense.

Itossed the bag of jewels over my shoulder and slung a leg over the expensiveMaseratibikeI'dbought myself for a birthday present.Hey, it's not every day a man turns twenty-eight.Mightas well enjoy life whileI'mstill living.Thematte black paint on this metal beast cost me a pretty penny, but it gives me an extra layer of anonymity, a benefit for every successful thief.

Todaywas my biggest haul yet.

Acecould suck a dick; whenIunloaded these diamonds, he wouldn't be complaining asIstacked fat wads of bills in his hands.

"Listen,"Igrumbled into the receiver, "Iknow whatI'mdoing."Ijammed the key into the ignition, casting a careful glance around the parking lot.Ishot out the street lights whenIarrived, soIwas bathed in darkness for the moment.

Ace'ssigh was audible through the phone.Icould almost see the irritated furrow of his brows through the line, could practically feel the irritation radiating off him as he spoke slowly, likeIwas a child who didn't understand the rules of the house though they'd been explained a hundred times over.

"Joker, we have a system, and you can't just run roughshod all over it."Icould hear him typing furiously at his keyboard, probably preparing some boring memo for the bosses. "Whenyou deviate from the plan, bad things happen."

Ididn't bother contradicting him. "I'mleaving now.I'llbe home in a few minutes."Thesound of another bike echoed in the alley behind me, and my thighs instinctively clenched around the huge mass of metal between them asIslipped my helmet off the handlebar. "Hey,I'vegot company.I'llsee you at home."

Icould hear him sputtering some directive or another asIhung up and pocketed the little square that kept me so connected with the rest of the world.Iwasted no time slipping the helmet over my head, and the bike roared to life beneath me asIpeeled out of the lot and into the slow traffic of four in the morning.

Thecity slumbered at this ungodly hour, but not us criminals.Wenever slept, not in the underbelly of this festering slum.Youhad to be on your toes, even when you were some of the city's most prolific, infamous criminals.

Mybike purred like a dream and handled spectacularly asIwove in and out of gaps between cars, careful not to draw too much attention.Icould hear the bike behind me gaining ground, though, which was disturbing at best.

Atworst?Itcould be someone who'd been watching me, come to lift my haul from my shoulders and put it to good use elsewhere.Andwe couldn't have that.

I'dcased that fucking joint formonths.Countlesshours of work, and an infinite amount of patience asIwatched every little thing about the store.Daysof hunkering down in my car as if waiting for an imaginary wife to exit the nearby stores.Hundredsof dollars in coffee and energy drinks and takeout.Thousands, maybe.

Thepayoff would be worth it, as long asImade it home with my haul.

Iwove through another couple of cars and banked a hard left, slingshotting myself into an alleyway tucked between two buildings.Ipulled my bike into a dark alcove and killed the engine, counting slowly asIran my hand over theSigSauerat my hip.

One.

Deepbreath.

Two.

Soundslike they kept going.

Three.

Four.

Five.

AndthenIheard it.Thesound of my tail's engine grew louder, and suddenly it was nearly on top of me.

Irealized with a start that the fucker managed to loop around without me noticing and slip up behind me.Hehad me dead to rights; if he were armed,Iwouldn't make it ten feet without being shot.

Lookslike the only way out is up.

Iran directly at the rider, and in a split second of confusion, he bailed on his bike, giving me the openingIneeded to launch myself up onto the nearby dumpster, then up again, to the dangling fire escape ladder on the side of the building.Iscrambled up and around asIheard the ominous click of a safety switch, followed by the typical bad guy warning shout.

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