6. Joker

Chapter 6

Joker

"What is up with you tonight?" Breaker asks.

"I don't want to be here," I mutter. "I have shit to do."

"Man, you can leave after we eat. It's the club opening. Besides, my kid sister is looking forward to this dinner, so suck it up."

"What's Joker sucking now?" Killer asks as he walks up. I roll my eyes and throw up my middle finger at him.

"Asshole," I growl, as Breaker laughs.

"Dad and Dragon are motioning for me. Killer, make sure Joker doesn't run out of the dinner like a little bitch."

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "If he knew how much you want to bone his little sister, he wouldn't be trying to keep you here," Killer mumbles, leaning against the bar.

"Why did I think I could talk to you?" I mutter. Killer recognized that I had gotten to the point I was drinking heavily at night so I could pass out. One night, drunk off my ass, I confessed to him I couldn't get Skylar off my mind. I wanted to claim her for my own. When I sobered up, he tried to talk about it. I told him it was nothing, explaining that I was drunk. I played it off like it was just stupidity that I spouted and thought that would be the end of it. I should have known better. The bastard realized I was pushing the twinkies away more and more. Hell, these days, I can't even touch them unless I'm drunk.

It's pathetic.

"Cause I'm a fucking delight to be around," Killer laughingly answers me, and I force my thoughts away with a growl under my breath—which just makes him laugh harder.

"Don't you have some woman to annoy or something?"

"You're more fun," he counters with a smirk.

"I always knew you looked at my ass the wrong way."

"You wish. Your ass couldn't handle my dick," Killer responds.

"My ass has a no entry sign on it. It's permanent. Don't get any ideas, idiot."

"Seriously. If the bitch is in your head that much, go grab some chick and fuck her out of your mind, so you can get through the party. Easy-peasy."

"Don't know why I didn't think of that," I answer, drolly. Fucking other women hasn't helped to get Skylar off my mind in the last year. It's to the point I've just quit trying. Any fucking I do is from behind, with eyes closed, and thinking of the one woman I want but can't have. It's pathetic. Hell, I'm pathetic. I should not be fantasizing about a damn teenager. I should just tell Bull so he can put me out of my misery.

"Damn, Joker, you need to snap out of it. She's just a kid—" he stops talking to let out a whistle. "Holy fucking hell."

"What?" I ask, forcing myself to look up at him.

"Forget everything I just said. That chick is anything but a kid."

I follow his gaze and see Skylar and her sister Thea following the hostess and walking this way. Jesus Christ. She was fucking spectacular the night I met her, but tonight she's breathtaking. Her red hair is still cut to her shoulders, and she's straightened out her normally loose waves and curls. The effect is so fucking tempting that my fingers are literally itching to bury themselves in her soft tresses. She's wearing a dress that hugs her body like a second skin. It's a cream color that's so close to the color of her actual skin that at first glance it makes you think she could be naked. The dress is damned tight too. It looks like she was poured into it. I doubt Skylar's wearing anything underneath, either. The thought of her being bare is enough to take me to my knees. Somehow—and I don't know how—I remain standing. As she walks this way, every man in here is staring at her. I have to fight the urge to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her out of here—away from any other man's eyes. Christ, if she was mine, I'd chain her to my bed and not allow another man to look at her body ever again.

I see the exact moment she finds me. I can tell what she's thinking just by looking at her face and the slight blush that rises on her cheeks. She wants me . She has always wanted me. I'm the same when it comes to her. That one kiss we shared a year ago still haunts me. It should never have happened. If I had known her age, it wouldn't have. Fuck, if I'd known who her father was I would have run in the other direction—before I got a taste of her. But I didn't. I did taste her lips and now I can't forget it. My body won't let me. Even now, surrounded by my brothers and Skylar's entire family, I can feel my dick stand up at attention. The fact that her father, our club Enforcer, is here should be enough to make me turn around and leave. I don't. I just keep looking at the woman who haunts me.

This is an impossible situation. If Skylar knew what I truly wanted from her, she'd take off running. Hell, maybe I should let her know. That might be the one way to scare her away permanently—before I take what I want and get myself killed.

"Here comes trouble. Make a break for it now and I'll take one for the team. I could use some good eye candy," Killer croons.

"If you want me to cut out your eyes, go ahead," I growl under my breath at the cocky bastard.

"You're awful touchy for a man who swore he'd never touch the woman currently begging him to fuck her."

"She's not doing that. Knock it off, Killer."

"She is with her eyes," he argues, and fuck me, he's not wrong.

"Hi Killer," she says first when she gets close.

"Hey, Little Red. Happy Birthday."

I grunt at the nickname the club has dubbed Skylar. I don't like it at all.

"Thanks," she answers before her gaze moves to me. Her beautiful eyes are stormy and dark as they look at me. I could always lose myself in them. They hold secrets, and I can't help but feel that every last one she hides belongs to me. "Hi, T—." She pauses and for a second I see the pain in her eyes. I know that I'm the one that caused that pain— it kills me . "Hello, Joker."

I nod. It's fucked up, but I don't talk to her. She probably thinks I'm doing it because I'm being a bastard. The truth is, I'm not sure I can talk to her. If I tried, all the words I have managed to hold in the past year would slip out.

"Hey guys. You seen Dad?" Thea adds and I force my eyes away from Skylar to look at her sister. She's almost as pretty as Skylar, although she takes more after her dad. The girls have a few similar features on their face, but mostly, you wouldn't even know they're related.

"He's over there by the entrance to the kitchen talking to Dragon."

"Thanks, Joker," she says with a smile. "You coming, Skylar?"

"I want to talk to Mom before dinner." Thea looks back at her sister and then at me before leaving.

"I got to go see a man about a horse," Killer mutters, walking off and leaving me with the one woman I shouldn't be anywhere near.

"Don't you want to run away like you always do, Torin?"

"I don't run. I have no reason to," I lie, letting my voice sound cold. I fucking hate hurting her. I should have begged to take patrols tonight or, hell, even to clean the bathrooms at the club—anything but this.

"I'm eighteen now. You can't really call me a kid."

I laugh, but there's no humor in it. It's mostly mixed with disgust—all directed at myself. "I'm thirty years old, Peaches. You're still a baby, trying to play at being a woman."

"Don't do this, Torin. It's not what you want."

"The name is Joker. You need to forget you even know the other name. I believe I've told you that before."

"Why? You told me your name. You once liked me using it. Did you forget? Because I haven't. I remember that night all the time. Sometimes I wake up remembering how it felt when you kissed me—how you touched me."

"You need to forget that, too. It will never happen again."

"I've been waiting for you, Torin. One of these days, you'll push me away to the point I give up on you."

"One could hope. Go find a kid your own age, Skylar. I'm out of here. Got a date with a twinkie. That's my kind of woman. They know exactly what they want. They're not little girls playing at being an adult."

"I never played with you, Torin, and you've always known what I wanted."

I close my eyes. Ever since our first kiss, Skylar's not backed down. Every single time I see her, she makes it clear she wants me. The woman has no idea what it costs me each time I turn her down. I've tried to lose myself in woman after woman, but it never works. Fuck, maybe that's why I've mostly given up trying. The damn woman has branded me. I can't get her out of my mind.

"What you want can't happen, Skylar. Forget it— forget me ."

"Are you that afraid of my father?" she asks, and I shake my head. She has no idea. It's not her father I'm afraid of at all. It's her.

"I'm out of here," I snap, turning to leave.

"You keep pushing me away, you'll regret it. One day I'll give another man what is yours and there will be nothing you can do about it. You're giving up what belongs to you. You're giving me up without a fight."

Her words hit me like bullets tearing through my skin and wounding me in ways that can never be healed again. It takes everything in me not to jerk from the impact. Skylar doesn't understand that my hands are tied. What I'm doing, I'm doing for her. She deserves much more than a broken-down biker that's too damn dirty and old to touch her. I've got nothing to offer her.

Not a damn thing.

That's the only reason that I walk away. I don't look back either. I know how I'm hurting her, and I can't stand to see the pain in her eyes …