Page 53 of Joker's Ghost
“I left my phone by the tub in the bathroom.”
“He wants me to take you and Deana to the clubhouse.”
“Why?”
Derek follows close behind. “He didn’t say. I would’ve been here sooner, but I was on the other side of town.”
My mind flashes to whatever was in his end table, and the same ominous premonition envelops me.
I stop at Deana’s bedroom door. “I hate to wake her up.”
“He sounded pretty wired.”
“All right. Put some things in a bag in case we have to stay overnight. I’ll get Deana’s things.” I grab Derek’s arm. “Let’s make this sound like an adventure. I don’t want to scare her.”
“Right.” He disappears into his room, and I head for my room to change . . . oh, and to grab my phone.
Sure enough, four missed calls from Joker. I hit the speed dial, listen to the endless rings, then his deep rasp, “Too busy being an outlaw to answer the phone. Hit me up.”
I dial three more times, but no answer. I used to find his phone message funny, now I want to jump through the phone and strangle him for not answering.
I glance in my closet, then, in a moment of paranoia, I retrace my steps to check the locks on the doors. Satisfied, I turn toward the hall, the floorboards creak behind me, and a gloved hand clamps over my mouth.
CHAPTER 18
JOKER
I throw my leg over the saddle of my bike, hit the throttle, and wheel toward the road. I pull into our formation, determined to keep my head in the game and not focus on what could happen. My main objective is to get home and protect my family from whatever weird shit is going on.
I concentrate on the bike in front of me and the white line of the highway, but I can’t help my brain from flashing back.
“Fuck!” I howl, then cradle Daisy’s head, pressing my forehead to hers, willing her to open her eyes. Her pale, sallow skin burns my palms, clammy yet hot at the same time, and when my eyes skim down her body, I see … blood staining the sheets.
I remember the desperation and guilt, and this latest fucked-up situation has brought it all back to the surface. No matter what happens, I have to be there for Daisy.
We’ve had plenty of rivals over the years. Other clubs trying to take what’s ours. Even a street gang from Downtown tried to move in on our shit, but this enemy hides in the shadows. This enemy came at me personally when I least expected it. This enemy is my ghost.
DAISY
He drags me backward into the kitchen. “Do exactly as I say, and maybe I’ll spare your children,” the rough voice hisses in my ear.
I struggle to break free, but it’s impossible. Whoever’s holding me has incredible strength, and I’m no match for him barefooted in my maternity PJ’s.
“I’m going to take my hand away, but you better stay quiet,” the deep voice warns.
No problem since I have no intention of fighting him and putting my baby in danger or risking Derek and Deana coming into the kitchen before this person gets what he wants. I’ve dealt with crazy before, and crazy has no boundaries.
He spins me around to face him, gripping my biceps like a vise. He’s wearing a bandana around his face, and his coal-black eyes widen at the sight of my baby bump. His straight black hair is tied back with a leather tie, and a silver feather hangs from one ear.
“Take whatever you want and leave. I won’t stop you, and I won’t tell the police.”
“Of course you won’t ‘cause your husband’s a criminal too.”
My mind spins with his words. This isn’t a random burglary; this is planned, which makes it worse—way worse.
I search the patches on his cut. On the left side is the one percent patch and above that reads,Nomads, Lake Tahoe, NV. The other side where his name patch should be is ripped off, which means he’s been “thrown out bad,” and I’m dealing with someone who has nothing to lose.
“If you know my husband, then you know he won’t let this stand. Your best bet is to leave now, ‘cause he should be home any minute.” I pray my words are true.
