Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
“Whose jet is this?” Joy asked as they pulled up to the private air strip. A sleek black jet waited for them as Ray parked them beside it.
“Mine,” Ace said.
Joy’s eyes snapped to him. She knew the Kings had money but she didn’t think they had private jet money.
“You have a jet?” Joy balked.
“Yeah how else would we fly?” Ace shrugged. He slid out, waving Ray off and opening Joy’s door himself.
Joy scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. “How rich are y’all?”
“I think we hit a billion a few years ago,” he answered casually as he helped her out of the car.
Joy blinked. “Billion. With a ‘B’…”
Ace chuckled. “Yeah baby, with a ‘B’.”
Joy released a harsh breath. “Damn.”
Ace guided her up the plane stairs and they were greeted by the pilot.
“Good evening, Mr. King,” he said
“Evening Ernest.”
“Ms. Thibodeaux,” Ernest tipped his hat in greeting.
“Hello,” Joy smiled.
“Conditions are favorable tonight so we should land in Houston in three and a half hours,” Ernest informed them.
Ace looked over at Joy, bathed in the darkness of night but illuminated by the full moon and the flickering street light above them.
They stood together, leaning against the hood of the car that was waiting for them at the airstrip, in front of the warehouse on the south side of Houston that housed the Cartel’s regional product.
Ace smiled, seeing that they were dressed similarly. They donned the same black tactical pants and black long-sleeved shirt—a choice that Ace regretted in the summer heat of Texas—with bulletproof vests on top.
While Ace wore black Timbs on his feet, Joy wore high heeled combat boots.
“He’s in there?” Joy asked, turning to Ace for confirmation. Ace pulled his attention from her to look down at his phone, then nodded.
“Yeah. Remy said he was spotted on the traffic cameras and hasn’t moved since.”
Ace turned his phone around and showed her the black and white photo from a nearby camera showing Cleve walking across the street adjacent to where they currently stood.
Joy looked briefly, then confirmed with a nod. “Okay.”
Ace turned the phone back to himself and chuckled. “You really cut that nigga’s right hand off.”
Joy shrugged, too intent on her mission to feel ashamed.
“Okay so how you wanna do this?” Ace asked. “This is your show, I’m just backup.”
Joy grinned, turning to him and stepping into his space. “The King of New York… my backup? I like the sound of that,” she simpered.
Ace chuckled, dropping a kiss to her forehead. Her usually big hair was pulled tight into a bun at the back of her head giving him full access to the whole of her face.
“Just for you, Rose,” he said. “Just for you.”
Joy simpered, her eyes flicking down for just a moment before returning to his as she fought a grin.
She lifted on the balls of her heels, then placed a kiss on his lips before turning in the direction of the warehouse.
“Okay. Let’s go,” Joy said.
They walked across the street under the cover of the broken street light.
The street was still and quiet, the late hour meaning everyone was tucked safely in their homes for the night. But Joy knew that the day was just getting started for her men, and she’d find a bustle of activity inside.
The irony of being back here wasn't lost on her. It was the first warehouse Byron had put her in charge of when she turned eighteen and the first time she thought she was going to die.
She couldn’t prove it to her father, but Cleve had orchestrated a robbery, letting it be known that she was alone while accepting product shipments.
All of her men were placed elsewhere and Cleve had sent Glock on a solo mission that night, so Joy had no backup when 5 men kicked the front door in.
To this day, she still wasn’t sure what happened between the moment one of the men shoved a gun and his crotch in her face and the moment she called cleanup surrounded by mangled bodies.
Cleve’s shocked and disappointed expression the next time he saw her was all the confirmation she needed that he was in on it.
Joy and Ace slipped through the back door easily with the help of Remy disengaging the digital lock.
Joy walked through the pristine warehouse. The polished concrete floors, bright industrial lighting overhead, and loading bays marked with unmarked trucks was almost exactly how she remembered it. Only the guards stationed at every access point were missing but that worked to her advantage.
The familiar smell of cardboard, diesel, and gunpowder greeted her and she couldn't help but take a deep inhale to savor it.
“Y’all have a nice operation here,” Ace said, looking at the impeccably organized warehouse in admiration.
Joy beamed up at him. “Thank you. This was my idea.”
Ace raised a brow. “Word?”
“Mhm,” she nodded. “The whole distribution system. Staggered pickups by territory. Coded inventory. All of it.”
Ace sighed, shaking his head in disbelief with wonder in his eyes. “You built this shit, baby. I’m proud of you.”
Joy’s eyes prickled. He had no idea how long she’d been waiting for someone to acknowledge what she created rather than just what she’d destroyed. How much she’d needed that recognition. That acknowledgement of her work and sacrifice.
The back was silent save for the crackling of the CB radios, but the closer they got to the glass-walled office overlooking the loading bays, the clearer the voices carried.
“Three territories collecting on the same night defeats the point of the rotation,” a man’s voice said carefully. “Joy set the schedule for a reason.”
Joy stopped.
Through the glass, she saw Cleve sitting behind the desk that had once belonged to her. Two captains stood across from him, their drivers and guards waiting near separate trucks below, far enough away that they couldn’t hear the conversation.
“Yeah, I don’t understand why we’re switching up,” the other said.
“Because I said so,” Cleve’s distinct voice answered. “The real question is, who the fuck you think you are to be questioning me?”
“Ion want no static man. I was wondering why we fixing shit that ain’t broken.”
“I’m not slowing down because that bitch was scared of risks. We move more at once, we get more on the street, which means more money in our pockets. Anybody got a problem with that?” he asked, his eyes swinging between them.
The two captains glanced at each other, but shook their heads.
Joy’s blood boiled.
She’d spent years studying and implementing the distribution process that was most efficient but also kept them under the radar and out of law enforcement's radar. Less than a year of being gone and Cleve was already dismantling her work.
Erasing her from the world she’d helped build.
“That’s what I thought,” Cleve scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear shit about Joy or her process in my warehouse, or I’ll put you out like I did her.”
Joy’s heels echoed off the concrete floor announcing her presence.
“Oh you put me out, Cleve?” Joy asked, stepping deeper into the room.
Cleve went completely still at the sound of her voice.
The room fell silent as she emerged, Ace several paces behind her.
The Captains turned toward the sound. With wide eyes, they all watched her like a ghost who’d come back to haunt them.
“Was that before or after I cut off your hand for playing with me?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
“Get out,” Joy ordered the Captains without taking her eyes off of Cleve. “And clear the floor.”
Neither of the men hesitated. One lifted his radio and ordered his drivers outside while the other knocked on the plexiglass and motioned for his soldiers to follow.
“Anyone who speaks a word of this is next,” Joy added before they could get too far.
“Yes ma’am,” the retreating men said in unison before pulling the office door closed behind them.
Within seconds, engines were running and the warehouse had emptied around them.
“You’ve been really busy, Cleve,” Joy spoke once they were alone.
Cleve shrugged. “Plenty to do with you out of the way.”
Joy scoffed. “I’m sure that was just your plan.”
“Nah, it wasn’t, but your crazy ass made shit so much easier for me. Thank you,” he dipped his head in mock gratitude.
Joy’s nostrils flared and a snarl left her lips.
“What is this, Joy? Come crawling back from whatever hole you got banished to for forgiveness?” Cleve chuckled, emerging from behind the desk to step closer. “If so, you’re not off to a good start. Perhaps try starting on your knees.”
“How about you get on your knees?” Ace said from where he’d snuck up behind him, dragging Cleve out of his chair, and shoving him onto the ground with a firm hand on his shoulder.
Cleve hit the ground with a grunt.
“Much better,” Joy smiled.
Ace kept his hands on Cleve’s shoulders, sending Joy a wink over Cleve’s head.
Joy couldn’t help but giggle, her smile spreading and her stomach fluttering.
Cleve looked up at Ace then to Joy, his eyes bouncing back and forth between them.
Only then did Cleve’s smile fade as he looked up, seeing Ace with double his bulk and significant height on him standing over him.
His adams apple jumped with his thick gulp. “Who is he?”
“Oh him?” Joy asked, “He’s backup.”
She and Ace shared a knowing chuckle.
“What is it, Joy?” Cleve asked with an exasperated sigh like she was bothering him. Like a petulant child having a tantrum and now needing attention in order to be soothed. “You want my attention? You want to come back home?”
Joy scoffed. “That’s above your pay grade Cleveland. If I wanted to come home, you wouldn't be who I came to.”
“Then what do you want from me?” he asked.
“Blood.”
Cleve stilled, looking up at her with wide eyes. “You’re not serious. My fucking hand wasn’t enough?” he exclaimed, anger seeping from his tone.
“No, actually, it wasn’t. Not enough for the years and years of what you put me through. You were getting off easy with that. And you might have. But I have a problem with you changing shit up and talking shit like this isn't mine.”
“It’s not yours,” he gritted.
Joy scoffed. “No?” She sank into the seat – her seat – Cleve had once vacated, crossing one leg over her knee.