Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,24

rising tide of panic. “I don’t need all that,” I said sharply. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, sure,” Jonah said with a wave of his hand. “But these numbers will help us figure out how big the actual piece of wood needs to be. You’ll want some breathing room, so I’m thinking six feet wide and maybe three feet high?”

“I said I don’t need that,” I snapped.

From the corner, Grace whimpered a little at the noise.

I cringed and rubbed my temples briefly. I stood up and kneeled by Grace, smoothed the dark curls off her forehead. “Sorry, Gracie. I know, I’m too loud.”

Grace settled down and went back to rattling her ring of keys. When I stood up, Jonah was watching me carefully. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“What?” I said curtly. I just wanted to get out of here. I grabbed the designs but left the sketch with the dimensions on Jonah’s desk. “It’s fine. Thanks for your help. I can take it from here.”

“What about this one?” Jonah asked, waving it at me.

“Won’t do me any good,” I muttered, and opened the door to his office.

“Joker, wait.” Jonah stood up.

I paused and glanced over my shoulder. Jonah had a soft look of understanding on his face. “Close the door,” he said.

I closed it again. “What?”

“It’s the numbers, isn’t it?” Jonah asked. “The calculations?”

I froze. Panic rose in my throat. I tried to say something—to deny it, or make some snide remark, but the words wouldn’t come. Like a deer in the headlights I was caught. It was one thing for the kids at the hospital to know about my secret, but if a member of the club knew… It was my worst nightmare.

What if he told everyone else? What if everyone found out? I’d never hear the end of it.

I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I couldn’t stand here under Jonah’s careful, curious gaze. With the design in hand, I rushed out the door of his office and out of the shop without so much as a goodbye to Nix and Heath.

Fuck. Fuck. All I could hope was that he wouldn’t bring it up again. Even if he suspected something, I hadn’t confirmed anything. So maybe he’d just let it go. I’d gotten what I needed, anyway. The designs.

I just had to focus on the job at hand. I had to prove to the club, and maybe myself, that I was good for something.

10

Brennan

I swung the sledgehammer heavily into the drywall. Demo was a lot of work, but there was also something satisfying about it. Even though it was exhausting, it always felt a little good to slam a hammer into a wall a few times. I grimaced and lifted the sledgehammer again, striking the drywall again, making the hole I’d punched even bigger.

It’d been a few days since I’d shown Joker around my workshop, and I was getting started on the renovations to the gym, with a few guys from my crew. This part was easy—we just had this one wall to take down, and then we’d clear out the locker room before we started stripping the floors. We had music going quietly, but it didn’t do much to drown out the thud of the hammers hitting the wall. Surely the guys in the clubhouse weren’t enjoying it, either, so I was doing my best to work quickly and get this part over with.

I worked hard and fast, swinging the hammer over and over until my arms ached with the effort and sweat trickled down my back. At least that was a good part about construction work—never had to go to a gym when you were doing demo like this.

After a solid block of work, and the wall almost completely demoed, I set my sledgehammer down.

“Take a break, guys,” I said to my crew members. I needed some water myself, and honestly, a good toweling off. I was drenched in sweat from the exertion, my white t-shirt sticking to my skin, and my forearms were pumped from lifting the hammer.

I turned around to get my water bottle, and saw Joker standing in the stairwell, watching me with dark, interested eyes. I glanced over to my crewmates—they were busy rooting through their own bags for their phones, and probably some snacks. I crossed the room, drawn to Joker like a magnet.

“Hi,” I said.

Even though we’d parted on odd, tense terms last time I’d seen him, there was nothing subtle about the way he was looking at me