8. Queenie
My job now entails desk duty, training, and recruiting. I love training new people to be on the Hearts—one-on-one with girls and guys who need the pointers. Plus, I can cultivate relationships now and make the Hearts the best team at the Deck. All my people need to know a little of everything. I help other groups as well. We all do, but there is a bit of competition between all of us. That’s a lie. There is a lot of competition. There are a lot of girls on my team, and I want them to be badasses in their own right. Self-defense, combat, and weapons are now more of a core feature because I don’t want anyone caught off guard. My brothers were all supportive of me stepping back from fieldwork, at least the sex part of fieldwork. I think they were all a little relieved, nothing like watching or hearing about your sister having sex with marks. Not that any of them would slut shame me, of course.
It isn’t like the Hearts only do sex. Sometimes, it is listening, flirting, or even blending into the crowd to learn information when people’s tongues are loosened over drinks. Once, I had to have a pretend date next to another couple’s table to listen in. Our job is always changing, and no two missions are alike. I like to tell my recruits that we are secret gathers. Intimate doesn’t always mean sex. Attention from a beautiful man or woman is sometimes all it takes.
I wasn’t sure if I would enjoy desk duty, but I loved it. Plus, it isn’t all desk-oriented, but it feels like I get to make a difference in the lives of my people. It also thrills Ace about that aspect and takes some pressure off him. The man thought he had to shoulder all the Deck’s burdens alone. We all are capable. He doesn’t enjoy ordering us around unless he has to—especially me. That annoys me, but it pushes me to do more.
I didn’t play with Barbies when I was little. Mother wouldn’t have allowed that. Instead, we would run strategies with army men. She had members of cartels, the mafia, military generals, and officials who owed her favors that taught us everything. She created her own personal army generals with her children. We were the clay, and she molded us to how she saw fit. What she didn’t expect was how much we hated her. Yes, we competed, and she would reward those who did well and punish the ones that disappointed her. What she didn’t know was we took care of each other. We were all each other had while plotting behind her back. Nothing bonds people together as much as mutual hate.
Ace hasn’t been the same since Tess left. He got hit with a double whammy. My assault, then getting back home only to learn she left, she saw an opportunity to leave and took it. Her note stated that it had been fun, but she saw a way out, and she was taking it. She alluded that another man helped her leave, which hit Ace’s ego hard. He left for a mission right before I did, and he got back early, but then had to look for me. His head has been all fucked up since. He’s been trying to find her every free minute, and I keep wanting to tell him it’s a lost cause. Like the note said, she saw a way out and took it. She is too soft for this life. It isn’t for the weak. From what I saw, her home life was rough, and she deserved a happy one away from it all. I did like seeing the change in Ace. She was his sunshine while he was a dark, looming cloud promising destruction.
When I am not working, I am getting tattooed. Is it the healthiest form of therapy? Nope, but did I give a shit? Also, no. That is the only time I have seen or spent with Joker lately. I miss my friend. That’s what he is—my best friend, who has always friendzoned me.
I fucking hate the friend zone. Other than missions, he and I have a don’t ask, don’t tell policy about who we fuck. Honestly, if I knew who he was sleeping with, I would arrange their deaths. Any woman that he gets entangled with, it is safer for them to remain faceless. Thinking about it gets my blood boiling, and I want to stab someone.
Part of me wants to take advantage of him in a moment of weakness, but I can’t do that to him. Also, I don’t want to open that door, knowing firsthand how it feels to have it destroyed. I have things to distract me, at least. Hunting down Mother, it feels like she is always on the horizon, waiting to see a sign of happiness before she destroys it. I cannot help but wonder what it would be like to be like to say fuck it. I want to jump on Joker and tell him he is mine. Before running away, never to return. Ace walks into the room, pulling me from my thoughts. “I need a favor.” He throws his phone and keys on my desk.
“Well, hello to you too, brother. Yes, I am doing well.” I smirk while narrowing my eyes. “I appreciate you asking. Oh, how I love these little chats we have.” I lean back against my chair and stretch while putting my combat boots on the desk, crossing my ankles, and placing my hands behind my head. “It warms my heart right up. Do you need something?” I tilt my head, smiling up at his scowling face.
“First off, fuck you.” He pauses, and I flutter my eyelashes at him. His eyes roll before he shoots daggers at me. The man didn’t eat his Wheaties this morning.
“Oh, you’re trying to butter me up! Continue. I love the direction this is going.” I beam up at him like he has been paying me nothing but compliments for the last minute.
He shakes his head, not even cracking a smile. The dark circles under his eyes signal he hasn’t been sleeping again. “Second, it doesn’t matter how you are currently, because I need a favor.” He smirks, clearly needing to untwist his panties, which are in a bunch. I motioned him to proceed with his request because I didn’t have all day. “Joker’s card is in play currently. He won’t answer my calls, so I need you to call him. Then, I need you to accompany him on the mission. Be his handler for me.” I would love to have him tell Joker he needs a handler and how our most deadly assassin needs a babysitter on missions to keep him in line. Does Ace have a point? Yes. The man, no matter how much training, can’t sometimes stop. He needs someone to pull him back from the darkness.
He is only asking because Joker is my best friend. I usually can talk some sense into him. Either way, I pull out the phone and call Joker. It rings once, then twice. He sounds out of breath when he answers, and I hear crying in the background, along with water running. She even cries pretty. I close my eyes and just tell myself that he is torturing someone, not fucking them. Maybe one day, I will believe the lies I tell myself.
“Queen?” The onslaught of thoughts that flash through my mind makes me grip my cell phone tighter. “Queen?” Joker says again, a little louder this time.
“Yeah. You’re needed. Your card is in play. Ace wants us both to go,” I say, talking quickly, my voice having no emotion other than a slight edge. My brain is malfunctioning, and I wish he had sent me to his voicemail. When I hear more sobs coming from his end, I hang up the phone. The damn thing feels like a weight in my hand, and I almost launch it against the wall. Instead, I toss the phone onto my desk. Pushing my chair back, I reach into the drawer and pull out my pistol. Some targets will die tonight before I have to deal with Joker.