Page 111 of Jester

Crow, as per his and the sheriff’s usual agreement, fudged up the scene. The Unholy staged it to look like a robbery gone wrong, with Abel’s body the only one accounted for by the time additional law enforcement arrived.

I don’t know what happened to Rodney and Daniel, nor do I care.

They got what they deserved.

Mike, as predicted, is already running Davenport Trading into the ground, and it’s only been a couple of months. That’s a whole shitshow I should find amusing, but I don’t because it’s actually sad. In a pathetic sort of way.

The one good thing to come of that whole situation is that by “proving” her loyalty to the Unholy, Kerri isn’t considered an outsider. And thankfully, she visits—often. She and Havoc haven’t spoken two words to each other since July fourth, but I’ll keep working on them because I’m nothing if not persistent.

Jester and I moved into my place, with my office a bright area for me to work. After Zefra-D’s launch, I have a full roster of clients, with enough jobs lined up to keep me busy for the rest of the year. I’m finally where I always wanted to be, doing exactly what I want to be doing, and sharing my life with a person I love. My only regret is that my father isn’t here to share my happiness.

And he would be so proud of me. He really would. I can almost hear him sometimes if I listen hard enough to the silence. But his voice fades so quickly because it’s been so long since I last heard it. I know, though, if he were here, he would be happy for me, and when Jester steps into the office, that adorable, crooked smile on his face, I also know my father would love him, too.

“Hi, handsome.” As if that word is enough.

No man has any right to be this gorgeous. But here he is, in all his glory, walking toward me in those damn gray sweats and no shirt again. Begging me to climb him like a tree. To lick every letter of his Unholy tattoo. Kiss the scar left behind by the gunshot. Nibble at his Mayhem Forever—

“You’re finally going to let me see it?”

I blink up at him, completely lost. “Huh?”

“The logo,” he reminds me, laughing. “Or did all my amazing man-meat distract you?”

“Hell yes, you distract me.”

I would have to be blind not to be distracted by his incredible body.

He grips the arms of the chair, caging me in. “Good. It means I’ve still got it, Fizzle.”

Oh, hell yes, he still has it—in spades.

The kiss is hot and deep, his tongue doing terrible, wicked, amazing things to me. But the devious bastard ends it too quickly, leaving me breathless. He turns the chair, forcing me to face the computer. “So, show me your latest masterpiece.”

I see his raging hard-on and raise him my drenched panties.

I point to the screen. Of course, Jester makes a big deal as he examines the intricate Gothic L interlaced with vines. I hope my client loves the dark design as much as I do. If not, at least I have a solid foundation to work from.

“You like it?”

He spins me back around, takes my hands, and hauls me up. “I love it. Now come on.”

“Where are we going?”

He’s pulling me out of the office. “Your number is low, and I need to feed you before I fuck you.”

I eyeball his attire. “Is that why you’re wearing my favorite lingerie?”

His expression is beyond arrogant. “Now she’s learning.”

“You’re evil.”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But you love me.”

“Damn right, I do.”

“Love you, too, Fizzle. Always have.”

God, this man.

When we get to the kitchen, there’s a healthy feast laid out for us. Also, he has my shot ready.

I’ve learned a few things over the last few months. One is that life is full of uncertainties. Another is that I am loved, and I am safe.

But so is Jester.

Because if there is even one breath left in my body, I’ll do my part to love and protect him—even if it means saving him from himself. Because let’s be real here, thisisJester we’re talking about. He’s a criminal. A deviant. A clown. And let’s not forget, he’ll always be a lovable asshole.

But he’s also mine. And you know what? I’m finally okay with being his.

What a pair we make.