Bent, Not Broken(5)

The hit that came from his right cracked his head to the side. Ears ringing and head fuzzy, Joker let the pain further fuel his rage. This asshole was about to feel some fucking pain of his own. He knew how to fight dirty, and in fact, loved it, reveled in it. Joker was really fucking looking forward to this. He let them have the first hit, but that was all he was getting.

The guy came after him again, started swinging like he was on fucking speed, and Joker smelled the alcohol coming from his pores. He was drunk, probably fucking high, too, so he moved slower. His punches were sloppy, and his hits were off the mark. Joker slammed his fist into his nose, grew even more excited when he heard the sound of bone crunching from the hit, and immediately went after him again. He tossed him against the side of one of the wall, and the assholes watching cheered for more. The guy went down like a rag doll when his head cracked against the wall.

“You motherfucker. You broke my nose.” The bastard slowly stood and spit out a mouthful of blood. Blood poured from his nose, flowed over his lips and chin, and covered his white shirt like a grotesque painting. “I’m going to kick your ass and piss on your body.” He charged forward, but Joker was ready. A man that wanted to win never lost control and never took his eyes off his opponent.

The asshole came swinging like a damn freight train, but his anger was a cloud of amateur movements that Joker had seen a hundred times before. He swung out again, but Joker caught his fist midair and used his opponent’s momentum against him. Slamming his fist into first his right side, and then his left, he kept his composure when the guy doubled over and grunted in pain. He’d be pissing blood for a week after those punches. Joker stood there and waited for him to come back for more or turn the other way and end the fight.

“You’re not going to win. You can either get your fucking ass out of here or you can come back for more and get your ass handed to you again.”

He lifted his glossed over eyes and snarled.

“I can make you really hurt.” It wasn’t a threat, but a promise. And then the guy spit once more, straightened as much as he could, given the fact he was clearly in pain, and turned away. Yeah, that was fucking right. He wasn’t about to throw down the white flag and lifted his hands for the next motherfucker to get their ass kicked.





Amy walked into the home where her step-father, David lived. This was the place they had all shared growing up, she and Reese. No, he wasn’t Reese anymore. He belonged to a biker club, Soldiers of Wrath and he was called Joker. Nothing she knew about Reese made her think he was a Joker, anything but someone to be laughed at. He was always serious, never pretending about anything.

Pushing thoughts of Reese to the back of her mind, she walked into the kitchen. Staring at the cupboards, an image of her mother, Brenda appeared before her.

“It’s going to be okay, honey; you just forget about him.” Her mother would tell her constantly to forget about her real father. She had forced the memory of him out of her mind so long ago that she couldn’t even think of what he looked like, refused to remember what he looked like. Before her mother met David, she would sit with Amy, crying and holding her, telling her how sorry she was. Her mother had always been so sorry for not being able to protect her.

Brenda was dead now. Closing her eyes, Amy counted to five and when she opened them again, the image of her mother was gone. Tears filled her eyes, but she forced them back. Nothing good ever came from crying.

Putting the bag of groceries down, she made her way toward the fridge. David was her real father. He’d treated her like one of his own. Reese should have been her brother, yet after all the years together, Amy felt anything but sisterly toward him. For the longest time, she’d felt like a freak for not cutting off thoughts of him that were anything other than brotherly.

Then their friendship had changed; he’d changed. There was something in his eyes when he looked at her, something akin to yearning. After witnessing him with that woman on his bed, she’d tried to find whatever she could on the Internet to understand what it all meant. She hadn’t found anything that had given her any clue as to what it meant to be controlled by someone like that sexually, at least not where she had been looking. Amy couldn’t bring herself to look deeper into website or books. Everything about that scared her. Until one day, she decided to take the next step to understand exactly what Reese was.

In a bookstore in the city, she finally understood what Reese was: a Dom. There were so many books out now about Doms. She’d been so embarrassed that she hadn’t even purchased the book from the store. Instead, she went online, ordering it for a speedy delivery. Ever since then, she’d been trying to find everything about what it meant to be a Dom. When she first started out, she’d not had the courage to look, whereas now, she wanted to know it all. Her intrigue about the subject grew and sent her searching for more details until she’d found everything she needed.