The Joker (The Soldiers of Anarchy #3)

by Nikki J. Summers

Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. Ella Wheeler Wilcox

“You’re the same age as my youngest daughter.” She spoke on a whisper and then she took a deep breath, threw her head back and stated, “This isn’t happening. This… it’s not happening.” “What’s not happening?” I sat forward, willing her to shed light on what the fuck was going on. “Do you know why your dad brought you here?”

“Colton…” Grace’s voice broke through my reverie, and I blinked up at her as she stood over me. “I don’t know you, but I only have to look at you to see you’ve got a good heart, a pure heart. Too pure to survive a man like him for much longer. You’ve got to toughen up. Don’t trust so easily. Don’t give him anything that he doesn’t deserve. I can tell you’re a boy who feels things deeply, loves unapologetically; but I’m guessing that’s brought you nothing but hurt so far. Am I right?”

“You need to stop.” She sat down carefully next to me, her body hovering on the sofa’s edge. “Stop giving him power over you. Take back control. Own who you are and become someone you’re proud of, someone he can’t touch or hurt again.”

“No more fake smiles, or half smiles. You give a big smile, okay? The bigger the smile, the more you’ll feel it.”

“See? I bet you feel better already,” she remarked. “Smiles lead to laughter, and believe it or not, laughter can heal a lot of hurt. It makes you forget for a while.”

“Laughter is like the windscreen wipers on your car. It might not stop the rain from falling, but it does a damn good job of keeping you going forward… now, go. Tell him whatever you want to tell him, and then smile because you know the truth. He doesn’t control you and he never will. You’re your own man now, Colton.”

That smile worked, because my dad patted my knee and replied, “That’s my boy,” before starting the engine with a smug, self-satisfied grin on his face. Grace was right. Smile. It fools them. And my dad was the biggest fool of all.

Sometimes, crazy is the only way. Crazy is the best way, if you asked me.

“Ashes to ashes, motherfucker. Burn in hell,” I said with a grin to the ghost of my father.

“You either die a hero or you live long enough to become the villain,” Devon said, going all philosophical on us. “I think we’ve all lived through enough shit to know which ones we are now.”

The rule was no touching unless you were invited. No playing unless you were given permission from the other players. Consent was a big thing for me, for all of us, that made this club what it was.

“I’d agree with that,” Liv whispered, raising her brow at me as she spooned dog food into the bowl. “How could one girl be expected to cope with an ego your size?” “It’s not the size of my ego that’d impress her.” I waggled my brow. “You do know, when you say shit like that you give off small dick energy.”

“Only insecure men with tiny dicks would let that faze them. Me? I have no issues.” “You have more issues than Vogue,” Tyler quipped. “Even your issues have issues,” he chuckled under his breath, just as Adam and Devon stalked through the door.

The fact that there was so much anger and fight radiating from her did something to me. I was a sucker for a feisty woman, and she was the feistiest I’d ever met.

“You don’t have to like me, sweetheart.” I grinned. “And I don’t have to give a fuck.”

She didn’t like me being close. But just as I thought I’d gotten the upper hand, I felt something sharp dig into my side. Looking down, I saw a small flick knife, and I chuckled. “That’s cute. Are you flirting with me?” I glanced from the knife to her face, and gave her a sly wink. “I’d rather flirt with a viper,” she spat back, pushing the knife in a little further.

“I think you have more dick in your personality than you do in your pants.” She lifted her chin, defiantly. “Maybe I should aim my knife there?” I gave another low chuckle. This girl’s banter was giving me life. This shit was what I lived for. “Now I know you’re really flirting with me. You’re interested in what’s in my pants, and I’d be more than happy to show you.”

Suddenly, I grabbed her wrist, yanking the knife from my side to place it on my neck, right over my pulse, and she let me, her eyes narrowing as she looked at where I held it in place. “If you’re going to threaten someone, at least make it believable. Down there you might pierce a vital organ, maybe an artery if you get lucky, but I doubt it. Chances are I’d get a nasty cut, there’d be a bit of bleeding, and I’d live to tell people what I did to get revenge. But here?”

I reached up and ran one of her brown curls through my fingers, feeding off the hatred that flowed from her. She panted out her breaths, keeping her venomous glare fixed on me. “It’s cute that you think you affect us.” I released the curl then placed my hands flat on the wall either side of her head. “That you think you have any control here. But you don’t.” I pushed forward into her mass of soft curly hair, inhaling the scent of vanilla as I whispered into her ear, “You need to remember who you’re talking to. Respect is earned, never given.”

“Why would I have respect for a man who shows none for any woman he’s ever met?”

“Take it any way you want, sweetheart, but be prepared for the consequences.” She threw her head back and laughed. “You know…” She glanced at her nails nonchalantly, like this discussion meant nothing. “I googled who gives a fuck and I’m pretty sure my face didn’t come up on the search results.” Then a wicked smile crept over her face. “You should be the one preparing for the consequences. Karma’s a bitch… and she’s standing right in front of you.”

“Don’t invite the devil to dance if you can’t handle the steps.”

She set me on fire, made me feel alive, woke up parts of me that I’d buried years ago. She made me feel, and no one had done that. Ever.

“I know your type,” he said, making my back straighten in protest. “You’ll never be satisfied. I could burn the world down for you and you’d ask why I’d left the ashes.”

“You are the most infuriating, annoying woman I’ve ever met. You walk into a room, and I can’t even think straight. You make me want to punch the fucking wall, and I’ve always said, I’m a lover not a fighter.”

“Some people come into our lives as a blessing, but you? You’re a fucking curse. Even the devil himself will be begging for a break when you land in hell.”

He kissed me like he hated me, like he wanted to bruise me, but I loved it. I kissed him like I was giving him a taste of what he’d never get, all the time knowing I couldn’t get enough.

“Are you coming,” he asked with a sly sneer. “Or are you going to stay there in the dark replaying the best kiss you’ve ever had?” And just like that, my walls snapped firmly back into place. “If that was the best you’ve got, you need to keep practising.” I pushed off the wall and stalked over to the doorway where he stood. “You’re supposed to sweep a girl off her feet, not paralyse her with fear and disgust.”

Eric’s eyes flickered from her to me and back again. He dipped his head, and then pushed his glasses up his nose nervously. “I have a class to get to. But I’ll see you tomorrow, Shelley.” He peered over her shoulder to where I stood with my eyes burning holes into his soul. “Or maybe not. I’m kind of busy with finals.” And with that, he scurried away like the rat he was.

“What the fuck do you want, King? Isn’t it bad enough that I have to deal with you over the blackmail stuff? Are you intent on infiltrating every part of my life now and making everything miserable?” “On the contrary, I’m a ray of fucking sunshine when you get to know me. I’m that friend you can always call on if you ever need to hide a dead body, and we all know you’re not the best at covering your tracks. But remember, if you disrespect me or my brothers, I know how to hide a dead body.”

“Eric is a sweetheart,” she replied, glaring at me with contempt. “He’s more man than you’ll ever be. And the last time I checked, he’s one hundred percent gay. In fact, he’ll probably ask me for your number the next time I see him, and part of me wishes I hadn’t told you that. It’s fun seeing your ridiculous alpha bullshit, but I figure Eric deserves fair representation. He’s a good friend, and he doesn’t deserve to have you snarling at him.”

I kept in step with her, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed that we were dressed similar, like mirror images, yin and yang. Both wearing tight black skinny jeans, black T-shirt and black boots. Both of us fighting a war in our heads. The only difference was I was smiling, and she was scowling.

Has anyone ever told you you’re a drama queen?” “I’d prefer drama king, but whatever floats your boat, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, but she didn’t pull away. “Making sure you have my number, so you can message me if you need anything.” I knew she had my number saved somewhere, but this wasn’t about the phone number, I was making a statement. It was also a good excuse to touch her again. Maybe the fact that she wasn’t pulling away meant she liked it a little bit too, not that she’d ever admit it.

“Look.” He pointed at the screen as we stood next to the table. “Do you see anything?” He stayed behind me but reached around to click onto another image. It was much the same as before and I had no intention of scrutinising it to help him. But moments later, he rested his chin on my shoulder like a fucking dog, and in a low voice, he asked, “What do you see, sweetheart?”

“I might consider getting ‘Shelley Masters can kiss my ass’ here though. Do you think that’d work?” He slapped his ass cheek for effect, and I felt my hackles rise. “Do whatever you want with your body, but keep me out of it.”

“Can you not touch me, please.” I tried to pull away, but something inside was stopping me. I liked how he stroked my hair and looked at it like it was the greatest thing he’d ever seen. “You know,” he mused, biting his lip. “I don’t think I can.” He side-stepped until he was standing right in front of me and whispered, “I love your hair.”

“Do I need to remind you about my newly acquired knife skills?”

“Do your worst,” he replied, moving closer to me, his lips an inch from mine. “I’d die a happy man.”

“And I like pushing you out of your comfort zone. You’re beautiful when you fight me, but you’re fucking stunning when you submit.”

“Blue is my favourite colour,”

“We couldn’t give a shit which Joker you go as.” Devon interrupted. “They’re all the same.” I shook my head and gave him a pitying look at his sweeping misstatement. “No two Jokers are ever the same. I could write a thesis on the merits of each one, and they all bring something uniquely twisted to the table. But this year, I thought I’d go for the Jared Leto style. Ledger is my favourite, but I wanted to try a different approach.” “We didn’t ask,” Adam deadpanned.

“I hate him.” “Hate fucks can work too, sometimes they’re even better.” “I’m not going to hate fuck him,” I argued, but my heart skipped a beat thinking about what that meant.

You need more in your life. Colton can be a cocky little shit sometimes, but maybe he could be the one to give you more. Let’s face it, he’s hot and he’s made it perfectly clear he’s interested in you, so what’s the big deal? I say have a bit of fun with him. A girl has needs too.” “Needs that I’m quite happy to fulfil with a battery-operated boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“But can a battery-operated dick tell you what a good girl you are and spank your ass as it pulls your hair?”

Tyler was next to grace our presence, and he wore the scowl to match his outfit. “Nobody fucks with Tommy Shelby,” he said in a Birmingham accent, taking the pocket watch out of his waistcoat and adding, “I think the show’s about to start, lads. Let’s show these fuckers how it’s done, the Shelby way.” Then he pointed at Liv, Will, and me in turn. “Now remember you lot, no fucking fighting!”

“I think Colton’s waiting to see what his favourite brunette shows up as. Probably the girl from The Ring if I know Shelley.” Tyler laughed to himself.

“You’re the kind of girl that wants… no, needs a man to work for it. Make the effort. Because in the end, you are worth it. You’ve fought for everything in your life, you want someone who’s going to fight for you. Fight with you. To show you the kind of strength that proves he’s in it for the long haul. You need a man that’ll stick around, not a boy who runs. Someone who can handle the heat. And you know what? I’ve lived my whole life in the flames of hell.”

“Everyone leaves eventually,” I said, waiting to see what he’d say. He stopped in his tracks and spun around to face me. “What are you so scared of?” He took long, slow strides towards me and frowned, reached up with his thumb and forefinger, and tilted my chin so he could stare down at me. “You can kill a man, but you can’t trust one?” “Trust is earned.”