21.
Jewel will go into criminal justice and work her way through the system until she’s eventually appointed warden of a large prison.
Once she’s in charge, she’ll corrupt the inmates even further, turning them into brainwashed minions who live to do her bidding.
As they’re slowly released back into society, they’ll become sleeper cells, lying in wait until the day Jewel takes the first steps toward global domination.
Tucker Martin
JEWEL
“How did Ziggy get hooked up with Papa Smokey, and who else is with him? Dad’s at home with Mom, but as far as I know, everyone else is in town.”
“It could be anyone,” I whispered, terrified, as I stared out the window at the street where I’d seen Robert’s truck parked earlier. “How did they get rid of his truck?”
“One of Ziggy’s guards drove it off, hopefully with Robert’s horribly mauled and disfigured body whimpering in the bed of it.” Petra scoffed. “Oh, I forgot. Out of all the people on this planet who are far more deserving of a long and productive life, you’ve chosen that path for your asshole ex.”
“When he finally dies a slow and horribly painful death, I want it to be at the hands of a stranger–or multiple strangers–and not by any family member’s hands.
I don’t want to cause strife between my boys and the family.
Somehow they don’t have the same bloodthirsty streak as the rest of us.
” Petra snorted in disbelief, and I glared at her before turning back to the window.
“They have a little one, but not an all-consuming rage like we do. I take pride in that.”
“Well, don’t pick out something to wear for the Parent of the Year ceremony just yet, because your boys are just as vindictive as the rest of us. They just keep it under the radar better than we do.”
It was my turn to scoff. “They’re sweet little darlings.”
“Mama honey badgers think their babies are sweet, too, but they’ll rip a fucker up if given a chance.”
I looked over at Petra, who was sprawled on my sofa with her bare feet propped on the arm while she waited for her freshly painted toes to dry.
As usual, she’d made a mess of my supply box, and there were polish bottles scattered across the coffee table.
No matter how old we got, my little sister could still piss me off just by breathing, but when she touched my things, it threw me into a rage that was very hard to control.
“Pick my shit up and put it back the way you found it.”
Petra raised an eyebrow, then slowly reached out and used the tip of her index finger to knock a bottle of polish off the edge of the table. It hit the rug with a dull thud. Her smile was malicious.
“After a lifetime of doing shit like that, you’d think a person might learn their lesson or get bored with the monotony of trying with all their might to piss someone off, yet you still practice the skill every time I see you.”
Petra giggled. “It never gets old.”
“If you keep fucking with me, you’ll never get old.”
As usual, Petra had no sense of self-preservation. Instead of apologizing or picking up her fucking mess, she jumped to a different topic. “When do the men of my future harem start arriving?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. Put my stuff back the way you found it!”
“I will as soon as my toes dry.”
“Someday, Mom’s going to give in and admit that one of us was switched at birth.”
“If that’s the case, then there’s another smart-ass woman out there who looks just like Mom.”
Petra had a point. There was no denying the family resemblance among our mom, Petra, me, and our older sisters, Summer and Willow.
Still, I kept hope alive by believing Petra was a stray someone left beside the highway and Mom took in out of the kindness of her heart.
And as everyone knows, once you feed a stray, they never leave, so we were stuck with Petra.
As the youngest child in our family, Petra was an absolute delight and always had been–said no one ever.
“Do you think they’ve killed him yet?”
“I don’t think Ziggy will do it, but Papa Smokey has been pushed to his limit by Robert’s antics time and time again, just like Dad has. Depending on who is with him, they might not be able to talk each other off the ledge.”
“Do you really want them to, though? Honestly?”
I thought about it for a second and tried my hardest to remember some of the good times with Robert during our marriage.
Unfortunately, those memories were tainted by his behavior during and after our divorce.
For years, he’d made it his mission to fuck with me, and the more miserable he made my life, the happier he seemed.
Robby and Max were well aware of the games their father played, and most of the threats he threw my way, because Robert had never hid his true feelings from our kids like I did.
Generally, I’m the kind of person who would step into the mud and start slinging it harder than the other guy, but I promised myself I wouldn’t put my children in the middle of our drama, and I stuck to that.
I had challenged myself to see it as some sort of test, a long game of willpower I wanted to see through to the end, or Robert’s horrible accidental death that left no trail to me or anyone I loved.
“I told Ziggy I love him,” I said without thinking.
“Duh.”
“How many thousands of dollars for college and years of experience litigating cases in front of juries, and the only word you can think of is that one?”
“Bet.”
I felt my face flush as my blood pressure spiked, giving me a horrible pain at the top of my head.
I hated that response so much it was going to give me a stroke or send me on a killing spree.
For months, that was the only response that seemed to come out of my boys’ mouths, and every young person I treated at the clinic said the same thing.
Petra knew how much I hated it, and she used it so often that any future criminal charges could only be premeditated.
As if reading my mind, she did what she’d always done best and pulled me back from the edge.
“Jewel, I love you, I respect you, and even though we’ve chosen different career paths, I’m still that little girl who wants to be just like you–in everything except the way you’ve handled the Robert situation.
You are not a doormat for him to walk all over whenever he feels like it, and you’re not the kind of woman who should ever step aside just so an undeserving person can have the spotlight.
But that’s exactly what you’re doing with Robert every time you let him get away with the shit he pulls. ”
Unaccustomed to compliments from my sister, I tried to inject some levity back into the conversation. “You want to be just like me?”
“Actually, I just want your house. Stop trying to change the subject.”
“I didn’t realize Robert was undeserving.”
“You didn’t listen to those of us who tried to tell you either.”
“I can occasionally be a little stubborn.”
“And molten lava is a little warm.”
“I don’t want my sons to grow up with memories of me as the bitter ex-wife who was dying to wallow in their father’s misery.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re bitter, but the rest seems accurate.”
“He hit Max, and I don’t believe that was the only time.”
“And what were your first thoughts when you found out?”
“That there’s not a chance in hell I’d let Dad and the others get their hands on him before I was finished.”
“So, basically, you’d just call them in for clean-up and disposal?”
I sputtered out a laugh. “Something like that.”
“Did you come up with any specific plans the night you found out, or has this been an ongoing daydream?”
“Ongoing. The night I found out, I was in New York and Ziggy brought dinner to my room.”
“And the rest is wall-banging, scream-his-name history.” I slowly nodded, and Petra sighed. “It’s difficult for me to look anywhere but at his crotch now that I know what he’s packing and how well he uses it.”
“Look at his mouth, then. Because that tongue . . . my, oh my, that tongue.”
“You never answered my question about my future harem,” Petra reminded me.
“Is the entire team going to be part of it?” I asked, incredulous.
“God, no. Can you imagine how horrible that would be?”
“Oh, poor Petra. Her death was caused by multiple orgasms. What will we put on her headstone?”
“Harder!”
“I’m gonna remember that, you know. I’ll wait until the rest of the family chooses the respectable bullshit they want–‘loving daughter’ or ‘decent human being’–and replace it with ‘Harder!’ in all caps, italics, and quotation marks.”
“I triple-dog-dare you.”
“It’s a done deal.”
“You’re older than me, so . . .”
“By like four minutes!”
“More like four years. I thought doctors had to be good at math.”
“And I thought lawyers were obsessed with details.”
“As long as they fit our client’s defense, we are.” Petra shook her head. “I’m gonna be the one who needs a defense attorney if this conversation goes awry.”
“This conversation? What’s so bad about . . .”
“Are you still in love with Robert?”
I recoiled in horror. “How could you accuse me of that?”
“It’s a serious question, Jewel. If anyone else behaved like that shitstain in the underwear of humanity, you’d be the first one to start plotting their death.
But you give him a pass every fucking time.
I’m worried that your feelings for him run deeper than you want to admit, and you’re using your boys as an excuse. ”
“I see what you’re trying to do here.”
“Is it working?”
“No. I’m not going to kill Robert just to prove you wrong, although I’ve used my meditation time to devise new and inventive ways to accomplish that task.”
“Aren’t we supposed to clear our minds and all that bullshit when we’re meditating?”
“What do you use that time to think about?”
“Usually my grocery list. It’s more calming than thinking about my cases, and it clears my head so I can focus on them when I’m finished.” Petra looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you think Mom really believed that would help us?”