Page 6 of Joker's Ghost
I usually didn’t pay much attention to what people said. I’d learned at an early age growing up with an abusive junkie for a father, it’s easier to ignore the negative shit people spew. Except today. There was something about the way the old man looked at me. Freaky on some level like he could see right through me, sussing out the bullshit I tried desperately to hide.
I pull into the garage of our condo and drop the kickstand, determined to shake off this weird sensation. I enter the kitchen and smile at my son, Derek, who is leaning into the fridge. At nineteen, he is taller than me and basically eats nonstop.
“Hey, Dad.” He continues to peruse the food selection.
“Hey.” He pulls out the makings for a sandwich, and I nod to the pot of sauce Daisy has simmering on the stove.
“I know, we’re gonna eat soon, but I’m starved.”
Nothing kills his appetite, and no matter how much he consumes, he never gains an ounce.
“How was school?”
He’s a freshman at UNLV, which makes me extremely proud, coming from a family of dropouts, including myself. After high school, he wanted to continue working as a mechanic in my garage, but Daisy and I insisted he further his education. He’d been coming to the shop since he was a kid and could rebuild a bike almost as good as me, but he is crazy good with numbers, and even if, after college, he stays in the shop, at least he’ll have the opportunity to do whatever he wants.
“Good, but the food sucks.”
I shake my head as he makes himself a huge sandwich. “Where’s Mom?”
Derek’s biological mother committed suicide after a rival club back in New York kidnapped and raped her. At only eleven years old, the kid lost his mother, and I lost my first love. It was a tough time for both of us, but in the end, it made our bond unbreakable. Having him young, I wanted to be the best parent I could be, so I stepped up as both mother and father, got us away from the toxic club in New York, and in a crazy set of circumstances, met Daisy.
She basically saved both of us, and although she never tried to replace Derek’s mother, she welcomed him with love and understanding—so much, he began to call her Mom.
“She’s in the bedroom cleaning out her closet or something.” Derek shrugs. “What is it about pregnant women and cleaning?”
I clap my son on the shoulder. “I don’t know, buddy, but I also don’t know what’s it like to carry around another human being inside me for nine months so . . .”
“Yeah, I get it. It’s just so funny, I remember her doing the same thing when she was pregnant with Deana.”
When Daisy and I had Deana, Derek welcomed her like a big brother, and the fourteen-year age difference between them made Derek her idol, and he loved it.
I saunter down the hallway, and as I get closer to the bedroom, I hear shifting and movement. I open the door to see my seven-months-pregnant wife perched on a chair reaching for the highest shelf in our closet.
“What the fuck are you doin’?”
“Oh, hi,” she says over her shoulder. “Just trying to get this box down.”
“Get off that chair,” I order, then come up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist and lift her down.
“I’m fine. I almost had it.”
I narrow my eyes and cock my head. “You do remember you’re pregnant, right?”
“Yes, and if I forget, the constant indigestion is a nice reminder.”
I spin her around in my arms. “Sure hasn’t knocked the wiseass outta you.”
“And you wouldn’t want it any other way.” She leans in for a kiss, and, of course, my hands roam to her ass, nicely molded into her denim maternity shorts.
The minute my hands touch my beautiful wife, my dick hardens, so I pull her closer.
“You do realize Derek’s in the kitchen,” she warns.
“He’s occupied with his favorite thing—food, so I don’t think we have to worry.”
I lower my lips and nuzzle the tempting valley between her breasts, which have filled out to very tantalizing proportions. Gotta love a pregnant woman’s body.
Daisy nudges my shoulder. “I have to go get Deana at dance soon.”
