Ride Steady (Chaos #3)(99)

“What’d you mess up?” he asked slowly.

I took in a deep breath and shared, “I’ll preface this by saying that I was upset.”

I stopped talking.

Joker didn’t say anything.

I kept going, “And I’ll also say that I’m very aware that you’re a man.”

His face got a little scary.

But he still remained silent.

“A manly man,” I went on.

His face got scarier.

“A manly man biker,” I kept at it.

“Jesus,” he bit off. “What’d you do?”

Oh well.

The faster the better, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

“I kinda went to Tack, and Hop, High, Hound, and Tyra were there, and I, well…” I paused then finished hurriedly, “Asked them where your dad lives.”

He looked to the ceiling.

“I was upset,” I reminded him.

He looked to me.

“He needs to pay,” I whispered.

“Yeah, Carrie, and how you gonna make him do that?”

That was a good question.

“I hadn’t gotten to that part of the plan yet,” I admitted.

“Right,” he stated, crossing his arms on his chest. “You do know that Tabby went behind Shy’s back and hired a private investigator to find the guy who murdered his parents.”

No. I didn’t know that. I didn’t even know Shy’s parents had been murdered.

How awful.

“That didn’t go down too good,” Joker continued to inform me.

Wonderful.

“Um… did the investigator find him?” I asked, curious for more than one reason, wondering if Tabby used Elvira’s boss.

“Yeah. And shit came to a head. They worked it out. But it was ugly.”

I pressed my lips together and felt my eyes go round.

Joker shook his head.

“Butterfly, you’re cute all the time, cuter some times more than others, and it’s f*cked up because right now you’re bein’ a pain in the ass and this is one of those times that you’re cuter. But you gotta get this so you can get over it. My old man doesn’t exist for me. I left him and that life behind, and I don’t want it back in any way it can come back.”

“He burned you,” I whispered.

“Yeah, Carrie, he burned me. I took it. I survived it. I got outta that shit. And he’s there. I know where he is. The same house. The same broads he’s bangin’ on the couch. The same beer he’s guzzling, vodka he’s shootin’. An empty life full of bitterness and anger at absolutely nothing. Every day I walk into that Compound knowin’ I got my patch, which means I got my brothers. Every day I walk into the garage knowin’ I got nothing on for my day but usin’ my hands and brain to create things I like. And now, with you a part of my life, every day I got somethin’ more. Somethin’ he’d never get. Somethin’ he couldn’t hold on to. Somethin’ he doesn’t have it in him to earn. I don’t know if my ma was a good woman. I do know she left his ass and left him empty. That is not me. I got brothers. I got work I dig. And now, I got you and your boy. He lives a life of pain. I don’t. I don’t need to expend effort to get revenge, to give him pain. All I got that he doesn’t is my revenge, baby.”

That was so huge, so profound, so smart, so amazing, coming from a man who I was beginning to think really, truly had no flaws (at all), and he was mine, I couldn’t hold it back.

“I think I might be falling in love with you,” I blurted and watched his face change to an expression I would have rushed to my phone to capture if I wasn’t captivated by it, not wanting to miss an instant.

“Then quit thinkin’, Carrie, because I know I’m fallin’ for you.”

I stared at him a moment, feeling all that made me feel, before lifting my hand and waving it in front of my face, announcing, “I’m gonna cry.”

“Then for f*ck’s sake, get over here so you can be in my arms while you do it.”

At that, I burst into tears.

When I did, not moving an inch because he came to me, I was in his arms.

I wrapped him in mine.

In the middle of it, I reared back and looked at his face through watery eyes, crying loudly, “I wish I had that flat tire. I’d bronze it!”

“Shut up, you f*ckin’ goofball,” Joker returned, his body shaking, his voice vibrating with his humor, his arms tightening around me.

“Don’t call me a goofball,” I sniffled, pushing closer.

“Don’t act like one.”

“I’m not acting like a goofball,” I snapped. “I’m sharing with you I like you…” I got up on my toes to get in his face, “a lot.”

“You haven’t made that a secret.”

“Maybe I should start doing that,” I retorted, taking one arm from around him so I could swipe at my face.

“Butterfly, advice. Don’t start playin’ new games when you’re already winnin’ the one you’re in.”

That made me shut my mouth.

I know I’m fallin’ for you.

His words filled my head so full I couldn’t hold it up and therefore pressed my face in his chest.

“I don’t feel like cookin’,” he announced matter-of-factly, like we weren’t having a hugely important conversation, the kind that changed lives, the kind that changed the world. “You’ve been on your feet behind a register all day so you’re not cookin’, either. We’re goin’ to Beau Jo’s.”