I smoked half a pack of cigarettes outside the veterinary clinic before I was able to calm down. The anger bubbled under my skin like hot oil. Someone had done this to Joker and I didn’t know who. The nicotine helped me stay calm. If I didn’t, I was going to go home, load up a shotgun and shoot anything that looked like a threat.
And shit like that could land you in jail. I needed to be calm and collected about this if I wanted to avenge Joker in a way that wasn’t going to draw attention. A lot of the things I did were against the law, but I played by the right rules and the people who mattered didn’t find out. It was half of what made me so good at my job.
That, and the fact that I knew how to handle a gun. If it had a trigger, I could deal with it.
Jayna hung around me like I was something interesting. I was unsure about her. Maybe she was too stupid for her own good if she thought it was safe hanging around someone like me. She’d been there for me when I needed to take Joker to a vet, and she’d waited for me until she knew he was fine. That was sweet of her – the human thing to do. But now? She had no reason to be around me.
Still, she wouldn’t leave. I had to admit that I liked her company. Somehow, the control I had to enforce to be civil around her calmed me down more than any alcohol and cigarettes had done before. It was interested.
And fucking annoying. She didn’t want to get tangled up in my life. People who knew me either got hurt or dead. The women usually got hurt. And the ones that died… they left some kind of trail for the living to despise me or fear me. Or both. And neither of those emotions were something I wanted Jayne to feel for me.
It was ridiculous; I didn’t know her at all, but for some reason I wanted her to think good of me. Not that it would be possible. People didn’t look the way I did and have passers-by say ‘he looks like a nice guy.’ I’d built my look with intention – the tattoos all had double meanings – memories to me and a warning to others that I was bad news. The leathers gave the impression that I was force to be reckoned with. A classy lady like Jayna had no business with a thug like me. And still, she wouldn’t leave. In fact, she seemed to cancel some other plan she had for the night.
I had no idea why.
I didn’t want her to see my rough side. I didn’t speak until I had myself a hundred percent under control. She had one or two quips now and then which was endearing, but she kept quiet after I didn’t really respond.
Maybe it was because she took it as some form of rebuke that I was so quiet. Maybe it was a good thing that she didn’t think highly of me. She would only be disappointed. The fact was that no matter how good I wanted to seem for her, it wouldn’t change who I really was. I didn’t want her scared of me, so it was better just not to have too much contact with her.
I was a thug. There was a time when my dirty games had a place in the city. I was leader of The Reapers, a motorcycle club that I’d started riding with when I was just a teenager. I’d been with the club so long they were closer than my actual family had ever been to me. It wasn’t the respectable kind of job you wrote home about, but it was somewhere to belong.
I worked my way up in the ranks, and by the time I hit twenty-five I was the youngest leader the Reapers had ever seen. But they’d all respected me for it; they’d had my back, and they were loyal. You didn’t get that much loyalty even when you were a blooded brother or son to someone. I spoke from personal experience.
No, with the Reapers I’d earned my position and my respect. I’d been untouchable back then. No one would have crossed me when I was still the leader. But those days were long gone and few people knew who I was now. Or if they did, they knew nothing about what I was capable of now. At twenty-nine I was considered old and washed up. What a waste.
That didn’t mean that I didn’t know what to do with a gun, or how to deal with people in a way that would remind them not to fuck with me again. Or prevent them from doing it. It was very hard to piss someone off when you were dead, and there were a lot of ways to make that happen.
The only thing worth a damn in my life now was Joker. I trusted him. He would never betray me. He would never take the word of another over what he knew to be true. A dog loved unconditionally, and for that reason I returned the favor.
“Would you be able to drop me off again?” I asked her. Sure, I could catch a cab. My motorcycle was at home, but I could get around. I just didn’t want to. I wanted to spend more time with the woman that was brave enough – or stupid enough – to stick around me when my mood was as foul as this.
I knew what I looked like. I’d practiced long and hard to get the look of total danger just right, to make sure that the people I came across could see their fate in my eyes.
Either Jayna couldn’t read that sort of thing, or she just wasn’t scared. Either way it made me want to be with her. I wanted to be liked in some way or another, by something other than a dog.
She hesitated long enough that I thought she was going to say no. Why would a woman like her, a piece of work that was carved from integrity and purity, want anything to do with a piece of scum like me? But then she agreed. Next thing we were in the car, and I was eyeing that blood on the backseat, thinking that I really had it in me to leave lasting impressions.
Jayne was being very civil and very polite. She didn’t look down her nose or flinch when we drove through the crappiest neighborhood in town. I wanted to see how she was going to judge me. She didn’t. It made me think more of her, and scold myself for it. I couldn’t afford to start liking this woman.
When we stopped at my place she looked relieved. I didn’t take offense to it. I was, too. I left her at the car and thanked God I’d cut the grass on Saturday, at least, even if the rest of the place looked like shit. I preferred it that way – I was in an average area with an average house and not a target at all because of the amount of money in my bank account.
The blood reminded me of the time when I’d found him. He’d been in a bad state then, too. Just a little puppy, dumped in the garbage in a black bag. The whining and whimpering had drawn my attention, and I’d pulled out the most bedraggled little runt I’d ever seen. He was only ribs and ears, with fleas all over and hair missing in patches. I’d looked that pup in the eyes and seen the mess I was inside, and taken him home.
It had taken me two weeks to get him to eat properly and have his fur grown back until he looked normal again. He was still so small, so weak, but I loved him. Dogs weren’t scared to be what they were. They had no image to live up to or masks to show others.
And that puppy loved me. I was everything to him. I hadn’t intended on keeping him, but then he had gotten a name and started protecting the yard. Four years later he was still my shadow. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me. He’d been there for me when I’d been stabbed in the back by the people I used to call my friends. He’d been there for me when I had nothing, and I’d been there for him and he had nothing, and Joker had become my everything.
I found a bucket and cut up an old t-shirt so that it was just a bunch of rags before I set out to the car again. It was dark, but I flicked the switch that kicked on the outside light. When I got back to the car Jayne stood there, her hair like gold in the light, looking like an angelic vision.
“You really don’t have to do that right now,” she said, and she was trying very hard not to laugh. I shot her a glare. I was being courteous. But she was right to laugh at me. I wasn’t the kind of person that should have been with someone like me. This was a reminder. I had to remember she was a lady and I was a thug. I’d never been bothered by my status before – I’d always lived with the thought that I was who I was and everyone else could go fuck themselves. If they liked me they would spend time with me.
This was different. I wanted her to like me. It was ridiculous. I just had to make peace with the fact that a man like me and woman like her would never be. Maybe short term, but never in the long run. These were just facts.