Page 130 of Joker

I keep going because I’ve come this far and stopping now would be worse than finishing. “When I finally tried to leave, he caught me. He’d been watching through the cameras. Watchingme hide money. Watching me plan.” The memory is so vivid I can taste the blood again. “He told me if I wanted to leave, I’d do it in a casket.”

The room feels colder suddenly. Or maybe that’s just me finally running out of whatever heat held this all together.

“He meant it,” I say. “That’s the part I need you to understand. He doesn’t bluff when it comes to me. If he finds us, he won’t drag me back and try to fix it. He’ll make an example out of me.”

There. Done.

The room goes quiet in a way I can feel in my teeth.

I wait for the fallout.

The judgment. The pity. The shift.

For Joker to look at me and see not a woman, but a complication. A mess. A liability with a child and a monster following too close behind.

I brace for distance because distance, at least, would make sense.

Instead, Joker goes still. Terrifyingly, completely still.

No movement. No pacing. No muttered curse. No explosion.

That is somehow worse. Because now I can feel exactly how much he isnotsaying.

The force of it fills the room anyway.

He doesn’t look shocked. He doesn’t look sorry for me. He looks like something in him just locked into place hard enough to crack bone.

When he finally speaks, his voice is lower than I’ve ever heard it. “Why didn’t your father know all of that?”

The question catches me off guard. Not because it’s cruel. Because it isn’t. It’s practical. Immediate. Angry in a direction that makes me feel sick and relieved all at once.

I swallow. “He knew some. Not all. Cal worked hard to keep me ashamed and quiet, and I…” I let out a breath. “I kept thinking if I could just get out, I wouldn’t have to tell anyone the worst of it.”

Joker nods once. He understands that too. “What about the cops?” he asks.

I almost laugh. It comes out brittle.

“He is a cop. His cousins are cops. His uncle used to be county sheriff. His family donates to campaigns. Hosts fundraisers. Knows judges by first name. Even if one of them wanted to help me, it would’ve been me walking into their world and asking them to believe I knew what kind of man one of their own really was.”

His face doesn’t change. But I see it. That little tightening around the eyes. The set of his jaw going harder.

“Would’ve been my word against his,” I say. “And he’s good at being calm when people are watching.”

That one feels important too. Like it explains a thousand things without me needing to say more.

The room stays quiet after that. Not because I’m done. Because I’ve run out. Out of words. Out of skin. Out of places to put the shaking in my hands.

I force myself to stand anyway. I’ve told him now. Enough of it, anyway. Enough to ruin any version of me he might’ve been building in his head. Enough to make walking away from me the smart choice.

So I brace for it.

For him to put distance between us. To tell me he’ll still protect me, still protect Lexi, but this changes things.

Instead, he steps closer. One step.

Nothing sudden. Nothing that makes me feel cornered. Just enough to make it clear he’s choosing proximity after all of that. Not despite it.

After it.