Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
With one hand still gripping the handle of his gun, Ace wrapped both arms around Joy’s waist, bringing her flush against him as he deepened the kiss.
They kissed without a single regard for decency or the several pairs of eyes watching them.
For a moment, the world narrowed. There was no Cartel. No expectations. No past clawing at her back.
Just him. The heat of his mouth, the weight of his hands, and the peculiar way he made her feel both steady and off kilter.
Joy wondered how she thought she could ever live without this. She wondered why she’d ever force herself to.
She was ready to let Von wet up the whole room and have Ace whisk her out of there to make up for the week’s worth of missed kisses. She was about to suggest doing just that, when Jermaine’s voice ripped through the air.
“You don’t get to disrespect me and embarrass me again then ride off into the sunset. We had a deal bitch!” Jermaine roared.
Joy wasn’t moved. Because for the first time, his voice didn’t carry weight.
For the first time, she wasn’t expected to slay the dragons alone.
Jermaine lunged, but Ace moved instantly, stepping between them with his gun lifted, stopping Jermaine’s advancement with a screeching halt.
“If you lay a finger on her I will cut you open and scoop your guts out with a rusty spoon,” he warned through gritted teeth. “And I know ways to make sure you’re conscious when I do it.”
Jermaine’s light skin paled as fear replaced arrogance.
“You know, Jermaine,” Joy said, stepping around Ace. “I think I’ve had about enough of you disrespecting me.”
“Apologize,” Ace demanded, gun still trained on Jermaine.
Jermaine sputtered but one look at the two of them made him push the words out. “I’m sorry aight?”
“That was weak,” Joy pouted.
“Maybe he should try on his knees, love,” Ace proposed.
“I’m not getting on my–” Jermaine started.
Without looking away, Ace shot Jermaine’s two guards in their chests, making Jermaine and Byron both jump.
“On. Your. Knees,” Joy repeated with a smile.
Ace’s dick twitched, watching his queen's unrestrained venom.
Slowly, Jermaine lowered onto his knees. “I’m sorry Joy. Okay, I’m sorry. Really. Please.”
Ace looked at Joy. “Do you accept?” he deferred to her. He held the gun but she held the power and she grew drunk on it. She was damn near giddy as she continued the game she and Ace played.
She tilted her head. “No,” she answered.
Ace's lips turned up in a wicked grin that she was sure matched her own. He held his gun out for her but she waved him off, pulling her own desert eagle from beneath her dress.
She stepped towards Jermaine, her heels clicking against the hard wood in the silence.
“Joy,” Byron started.
“Shut up,” she hissed. Her voice didn’t waver or crack. She was completely unrestrained now. Completely free. Everyone in the room felt the wickedness oozing off of her.
Her eyes weren't vacant though.
She wasn’t far away or disassociated.
She wasn’t spiraling or slipping.
She was more present than she had ever been in her life. Somehow, that fact made her even more terrifying.
She stood before Jermaine and caressed the side of his face with the barrel of her gun.
“Joy–”
“Shut up,” she told Jermaine.
Her lips spread into a sinister smile before she spoke again. “You know I’ve done a lot of bad shit. But I’ve never killed father and son before,” she mused, staring into his eyes.
Jermaine froze. His eyes narrowed then darkened. “What did you just say?” he asked.
Joy put on a fake pout. “I guess he never got a chance to tell you we ran into each other in New York. He was so disrespectful. And violent.” She shrugged. “Guess the rotten apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
With a snarl, Jermaine lunged, wrapping his hands around her throat in the same fashion he’d done the night before their wedding.
Short bursts of that night flooded her memory.
The anger. The anxiety. The terrifying feeling of her autonomy slipping from her.
Joy was prepared for him this time though.
Her vision was clear and her mind was sharp as she took hold of his wrist, breaking it with a swift yank.
His cry of pain and the resounding crack of bone giving way filled the air.
Joy took that moment to knee him in his groin. He dropped to his knees and with a heel to his chest, Joy kicked him onto his back.
“Pathetic,” she spat. She stood above him, driving her heel into his chest, one foot anchoring him to the floor.
He reached to grab her ankle and she fired a shot into his hand.
He cried out again, cradling his mangled hand. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Evil fucking bitch!”
“Thank you,” Joy smiled. “If a nigga like you is calling me evil I must be doing something right.”
Without another word, she aimed, firing a shot at point blank range, the bullet going straight through his skull.
Joy released a heavy exhale. “I feel so much better,” she said to no one in particular. She did feel better. She felt lighter.
Finally she whirled on her father, the last man standing.
“This is crazy,” Byron said, his eyes frantic in a way she’d never seen from her father before. “You are fucking crazy.”
“Yes,” Joy nodded once. “I am.”
“Have a seat,” Joy ordered, gesturing to the conference table with her gun.
“I don’t th?—“
“I didn’t ask you anything,” she cut him off while taking a step forward. “I said sit. Down.”
Ace’s hands clamped down on Byron's shoulders, guiding him to the table and down into a chair.
“Thank you,” Joy smiled.
She leaned forward, placing both hands on the table.
“This makes twice now that you’ve offered me up to Jermaine for your own gain,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “I can’t even begin to count the amount of times you’ve put your ambition over my wellbeing, and made me do things no kid should do.”
“You wanted to,” Byron protested.
Joy slammed her hand down on the table. “I was a child,” she nearly growled.
The room went silent as Joy stared Byron down, daring him to continue to justify his actions.
“I built this cartel,” Joy straightened. “And yet the minute you couldn’t control me… The minute I scared you a little, you threw me away.”
Byron scoffed. “So what? You’re gon’ kill me?”
Joy smiled.
“No daddy,” she said softly, almost gently. “I won’t kill you.”
Relief flicked across his face.
“But you will be retiring,” Joy continued. “Effective immediately.”
Relief was replaced with rage as Byron bucked against Ace’s hold. “Like hell I am. This is my–”
“It’s mine.” Joy’s words settled final and heavy between them like they’d been dropped on the conference table.
She didn’t like that she kept having to remind people of that fact, but she realized she could no longer wait to be given the respect and power she was owed. She’d have to take it.
“I’ll let you walk away with your life,” she went on. “Consider it… mercy,” she said with a smirk. She giggled slightly as she used the same word he’d said to her in this very office not even a year ago.
She’d been a much different woman back then.
“Now you can either accept my offer and leave smooth or I can burn this motherfucka to the ground with you in it,” Joy said.
“You wouldn’t,” Byron seethed.
Joy grinned. “Wanna bet?”
He scoffed. “You’re bluffing.”
Joy stalked up on him with a sinister smile on her face. Leaning down she spoke into his ear. “Would you bet your life on that? Cleve did, and we see how that fared for him.”
Byron’s eyes ballooned as understanding settled over him.
She stood up fully.
“I’ve already mourned the loss of the Cartel and the loss of my father. I’ll be aight,” she shrugged.
Silence stretched.
Joy went into the safe behind his desk and entered the combination with ease. Just as he’d done, she pulled out stacks of cash then plopped them on the table in front of him.
“Go far, far away,” Joy urged him.
Byron looked up at her, hate shining in his eyes. “After all I’ve done for you–”
“Save it.”
“What about your brother?”
“He can visit you wherever you go. But if I catch you within Texas borders, I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Byron snatched up the money and stood with a deep scowl.
“You are evil,” he gritted.
Joy didn’t blink. “I am my father’s daughter.”
“Von,” Ace said, speaking up for the first time. “Make sure he leaves.”
Joy expected Von to protest but he simply nodded and escorted Byron out with a hand on his arm and a gun at his side.
“I’ll see you at home, Jane,” Von said.
Joy released a breath once the door closed behind them, left with only Ace, Glock and the littered bodies.
For the first time in her life, there was nothing left to prove. Nothing left to fight. Nothing left to survive.
Only what she chose next.
For the first time in her life, she was free.