Beyond Redemption

CHAPTER 1
Joker hated the heat. He also hated the blazing sun, sand, and humidity that surrounded South Beach. Like walking through water with your clothes on. A thousand miles and forty degrees hotter than his home in upstate, New York.

Not that he was a fan of New York winters, especially when the snow made it impossible to ride his Harley, but the smell of coconut suntan lotion and this constant heat drained his energy.

He slid onto a wicker stool at the poolside Tiki bar, and the bartender immediately appeared. His eyes swept over

Joker’s black T-shirt, full sleeve tattoos, and silver skull rings. Not even close to the skimpy, designer bathing suits and expensive, gold jewelry on both the men and women lounging at the pool.

“What can I get you?” The tan, smiling bartender looked way too happy.

“Jack Daniels.”

“We make a specialty drink with Jack Daniels, grappa and bitters. Would you like to give it a try?”

“Just Jack Daniels, neat.”

The bartender nodded, and Joker felt sorry for the guy. The management probably made them push these drinks, but who fucked with Jack Daniels? The faster he got outta this hellhole, the better.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. The Royal Palms was one of those five-star places right on the beach with a spa, celebrity chef restaurants, and enough bars to make an alcoholic cry out for mercy.

Supposedly, his connection, a guy named Charlie, and his Miami crew conducted their business in cabana number five and making this one last deal for his club guaranteed Joker’s freedom for him and his son. He’d called Derek when he hit Miami just to let him know he arrived. The kid worried way too much for a thirteen-year-old, but having a father who ran with an outlaw biker club would make anybody jumpy.

Yeah, Joker remembered how much those worries hardened a kid.

The bartender returned sliding the glass onto a fancy coaster advertising the hotel, as a steel band played in the background. Nope, this was definitely not New York.

Joker sipped the whiskey and gazed over at cabana five along the south side of the pool, but saw no one that fit Charlie’s description. Just three guys getting drunker by the minute. Loud, obnoxious, and sloppy. If this was the way they did business, no wonder the South American cartel wanted them out.

Joker stuck a Marlboro between his lips and just dipped his head to the Zippo lighter when the bartender appeared swallowing hard, eyes darting from side to side.

“Sir, I’m sorry there’s no smoking here.”

Joker slowly looked around the bar, then back at the bartender. “We’re outside.”

“Yes, but there’s no smoking in the entire hotel area.” His lips twitched into a nervous smile. “Inside and out.”

Joker huffed out a laugh and stuck the cigarette into the pack. The bartender didn’t make the rules, he was just trying to make a buck, but right now a lungful of smoke would’ve calmed Joker’s nerves and set him straight. He rubbed his hand over the scruff at his jaw, then pulled on the silver hoop in his ear.

He hated waiting. One of the only reasons he liked being VP of the Raiders. Everyone waited for him.

Him and just about every other guy with a dick zeroed in on a knockout brunette strutting her bangin’ body into the pool area. She stopped just long enough for Joker to admire mile-long tanned legs with a white Brazilian thong bikini showcasing a perfect ass and firm abs. He’d seen plenty of beautiful women in Miami, but one with that kind of confidence stood out and demanded his attention, especially when she stopped at cabana five.

Maybe the drunk assholes ordered some entertainment. What a waste on a bunch of idiots who were too trashed to appreciate her. If nothing else he could enjoy the show while he waited. Or maybe the sexy brunette was ordered to entertain the illustrious Charlie who would soon follow. That thought perked him up. Get this fucked up job done, and start his new life as a straight citizen.

He lowered his sunglasses to get a clearer picture. Too far away to hear the conversation, so he relied on body language. The girl was obviously smart because she surveyed the situation, then stepped back. Like him, she quickly assessed that these guys were a bunch of drunk assholes. And assholes usually had no boundaries, especially when a shitload of liquor and ninety-degree heat were involved.

Her wary smile gave her away, and when she tried to back off, Asshole Number One grabbed her by the wrist while Asshole Number Two grabbed her other arm. She shifted and attempted to break free, but the stilettos weren’t giving her much help.