Chapter 10 Choyce Mancinelli
Choyce Mancinelli
"I told you to stop fucking playing with me, Choyce. And still you take me for some DC Young Fly comedy ass nigga."
"Honor," I forced through my clenched teeth.
"Nah, don't call my name like you tough. You pussier than what’s between your legs.
But me…" A low snigger followed his words as he jammed the gun further into my underjaw, causing my teeth to clash.
"I'm like that forreal Choyce. I'll kill you and won’t feel an ounce of remorse.
I'm talking move on with my life and drying the eyes of your daughter after she finds out she's a motherless child type shit.
I got mad fuckin' screws missing in my head, and all this shit you're doing is really gon' make me do some I'ma have to repent for. Do you fucking understand me?"
Honor's malicious rant burned in my ears.
It wasn't the first time he had threatened me, and it wouldn't be the last, but this time I believed him.
Maybe it was the way death clung to his every word.
Maybe I'm delusional for thinking this was love.
Maybe I wasn't in love with Honor, only captivated by the loyalty he reserved for a woman who wasn't me.
Maybe I was chasing the security Navy never had to question…
the kind of certainty I didn't have with Talon.
The kind that made you believe you're worth protecting, yet made you feel invincible at the same time.
That's what I longed for. To feel so protected by someone that even in the face of death, I felt bulletproof because the man who loved me wouldn't let me die without standing in front of the bullet first. I craved to know what it felt like to be chosen without hesitation, safe without asking, and loved without fear.
And I wanted to know it from the man with his gun pressed underneath my jaw.
What I felt for Honor didn't make sense, but a truth hovered between us anytime we were together.
Even now… That pull. That longing. That thing he and Navy just didn't have… I felt.
Navy stifled him. She grabbed the scraps of his past and stitched them into a leash, tugging him away from the man he was supposed to become.
The man Lucian raised. The raw, unpolished version of him wasn't worthy of her love…
at least not in her eyes. Piece by piece, she remade him until Honor was someone who deserved her love.
Only love wasn't meant to be deserved. Love was to be given freely through the good and bad, through breaking and building.
I didn't doubt they loved each other. I would be foolish to think two people who've known each other for twenty years didn't hold some type of affection between them.
Still, that's all it was. Two old friends clinging to history out of familiarity, instead of two souls choosing each other.
Navy was the woman he needed to survive.
Honor survived. It was now time for him to live, and in my humblest opinion, he would never truly live as long as he was with Navy.
"Choyce, do you understand me?" he sneered.
"I understand." It was barely audible, but Honor must've heard it because his hold on the gun loosened.
"Speak on my relationship again, and death will be the least of your problems," he harshly warned.
My breathing stuttered, feeling his spit hit my lips. I smirked, unable to keep the question that plagued my mind from coming out.
"When you look back decades from now, what do you want to remember? A life where you only survived… or one where you actually lived?"
Honor cocked his head, his stare slipping toward the water as he moved the gun from my chin. I released a shaky exhale, and my shoulders slumped forward as relief set in.
"A life filled with family and happiness is all I want.
Survival already robbed me of too many years.
" Honor's tone dropped. A calm washed over his features as his guard slipped.
"I wanna live screaming fuck regrets and be confident in the moves I make and not have to worry how three other people gon' feel 'bout what I do. "
"And you think you can have that life with Navy?"
Tipping his head back, Honor scratched his jawline with the barrel of the gun.
"You got a muthafuckin' death wish, huh?" he said, offering me a mirthless chuckle.
"Maybe." I shrugged, ignoring the nervous fluttering in my stomach.
"Maybe I'm just the person who questions the things everyone else ignores.
" I held his stare and caught the glint of curiosity before it vanished.
"I told you before, I'm not here to heal you.
This…" I looked downward toward the gun as his fingers twitched against it.
"…Is who you are. This brash nature is who you are.
You hide it and make excuses for your behavior because you know she doesn't like it.
I get it, but I'm not afraid. I want you, Honor.
In my arms… in my life… in my pussy. I want you, Hon…
ahhh!" I yelped as my head snapped back.
Honor's grip on my hair was merciless, making it impossible to tilt my head forward. My heart hammered as the barrel kissed my lips. Without hesitation, Honor shoved it forward, forcing my lips apart.
"Open your fucking mouth," he growled through clenched teeth.
Beads of sweat glistened on my forehead as the taste of metal coated my tongue.
"Fuck was all that?” Slowly, Honor twisted the gun, forcing my lips into the perfect circle. "Suck it," he hissed.
The gun's barrel crawled over my tongue, and for every millimeter he pushed into my mouth, an electrifying throb pulsed between my legs.
"You talk heavy like a nigga won't bust one in your oropharynx, blow out the back of your neck, then pick up Cherish and bring her home to Navy. Is that the type of shit you want a nigga to do?"
Every word strummed along my nerves like ice dragging across bare skin.
His threat shouldn't have excited me, but it did.
At this point, this was foreplay. Spit slipped from the corners of my mouth as I sucked.
I waited for sanity to snap me out of this trance, but it never came.
I gagged and stuck my tongue out, desperately wanting more of the way he watched me like I was the downfall he'll chase with open arms. A treacherous smirk curved across his face like lust with a loaded clip.
Honor leaned in close, sibilating into my ear, "Is that what you want from me, Choyce? To blow your fucking esophagus out?"
My eyes watered from how far back he pushed the gun. I couldn't answer him as heat soaked my panties.
"Choyce—"
"What do we have here?"
Caught up in the moment, Honor and I never heard Lucian until it was too late. My eyes shifted in his direction. Lucian stood dressed in expensive black Italian fabric as if it were someone's funeral.
"Do I have to repeat myself?" he asked in a tone void of emotion.
"Honor," I choked out, trying my best to take control of the situation.
Honor didn't flinch. His eyes didn't waver from mine. He was unbothered by Lucian's presence and was still making his point.
"Since Choyce can barely utter a name, why don't you spare us the silence and explain why my picchistore (enforcer) has a gun shoved down the throat of my number two.
And before you oppose, I'd rather not draw my own conclusion.
It won't be in your favor, and you won't have the chance to correct me. "
"I'm teaching a lesson," Honor responded. "A lesson learned with violence goes unrepeated. You taught me that, no?" His stare landed on Lucian, and he returned the look with a proud smile.
"And what lesson is being taught?" Lucian asked.
"It doesn't matter because I'm sure the lesson is learned. Isn't that right, Choyce?" Honor asked, sliding the gun from between my lips. He stared me down as I stepped back and ran my hands along my frame, smoothing out my clothes.
"Right." I nodded sharply, then angled my body toward Lucian.
"Sorry for the mishap. I'm sure Honor has other things to handle while we conduct our meeting," I said, doing my best to stop worry from flooding my face.
"Choyce," he eerily spoke, demanding my attention. "Non mostrare mai le tue preoccupazioni in facxia, perché la faccia è la prima cosa che un nemico studia."
My lips trembled, fighting the pull of a frown.
"Never show your worries on your face because the face is the first thing an enemy studies,” Honor translated.
Whenever Honor spoke, he did so with an arrogance that wasn't obnoxious yet held an undertone of dominance that couldn't be ignored.
Lucian nodded in approval toward his favorite but glanced in my direction with disappointed eyes. To appear unbothered, I rolled my shoulders back and let my face fall into a grimace.
"Correct my young prodigy."
Honor winced as pride filled Lucian's tone.
"I often wonder how I ended up with a son like Talon and not a son like you.
Yes, you were somewhat scrappy when we first met, but that was a small fix compared to the obedient man I knew you'd become.
You, Honor, could easily come from my loins.
Instead, the heavens saw fit to curse me.
It's unfortunate, but as you know, I'm currently in the process of correcting that mishap. Isn't that right, Choyce?"
"Yes," I quickly answered while cupping my hands in front of me. "Actually, that's the reason I called this meeting."
I paused, giving myself a second to swallow the nervous lump in my throat. The woman with the schoolgirl crush had to be shelved for the bitch to come out.
"Three months ago, you made it clear to both Honor and me that Talon needed to go. Honor agreed, but as of this very second, no progress has been made on the matter. As your number two, I took it upon myself to make sure Honor's head is where we both need it to be."
"Is that true?" Lucian asked. His eyes shifted toward Honor, who was aimlessly gazing at the water.