Page 199 of The Fire We Make

She walked through the Thibodeaux Trucking building, her steps sure though her heart wasn’t.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again. She looked down expecting to silence another call from Mel but saw April’s name flash across the screen instead. Her heart clenched but she silenced the call.

They’d be okay. They’d forget about her soon enough and their lives would be better for it, she was sure.

Or at least that's what she told herself to see it through. She could do this if she was the only one who suffered.

She clutched her tote bag in one hand and the other fidgeted with the hem of her blouse. She wished she had Ace’s lighter. The blunt in her purse was calling and though she had to wait, the rhythmic sound of the lighter flicking open and closed would soothe her. It wasn’t until that moment did she consider if that’s why he did it.

Stop thinking about Ace, she told herself.

She forced herself to put him out of her mind, and reminded herself to bury the version of her she’d become in New York. The version that Ace had pulled out of her and embraced.

That girl wasn’t welcomed here.

That girl was a liability.

She shook off the thoughts of him and everything she’d become.

She donned the impenetrable armor that once fit her perfectly but now felt a bit heavier. With her shoulders back and a strut that betrayed her shaky nerves, she entered the back hallway that led to her father’s office.

This was what she wanted, she reminded herself. That reminder is what spurred her on, despite the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach as she knocked on the office door.

It swung open immediately and Byron stood there. “Welcome back, princess,” he smiled.

Joy blinked, waiting for the sense of calm and accomplishment she thought would come with those words, but they never came. She’d dreamed of hearing those words from him but now that she had. they didn’t hit the same. Still, she forced a smile and entered the office.

The moment her pumps crossed over the threshold, she wished she hadn’t.

Sitting on the other side of the desk, looking like privilege and evil incarnate, was her ex fiancé.

Jermaine turned around in his chair and a salacious grin spread across his face.

“Hello Joy.”

Joy sneered at him. “What the fuck is he doing here?” she asked. She took a step back and turned to her father.

He placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from backing out of the room and nudged her towards the desk. “Have a seat princess. I’ll explain everything in a moment.”

“No, you’ll explain now.”

His soft face sharpened into hard features that let Joy know she was dancing on the line of his patience.

“Watch your mouth. Mind your manners, and have a seat,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

Joy’s first instinct was to snap back with a challenge.

Instead, she obeyed.

With a deep breath, Joy moved to do as she was told but Jermaine’s hand lifting stopped them both in their tracks.

“Frisk her for weapons before she comes near me,” he ordered his security standing beside him. “You know my girl has a lethal temper,” he winked, flexing the shoulder that had a Swarovski crystal covered pump buried in it the last time Joy was alone with him.

The burly security guard stepped forward to follow the command and Joy turned her glare on him. “If you touch me, you’ll be pulling back a nub.”

“Yes, you do seem fond of that method aren’t you?” Jermaine antagonized her.

“Joy. Hand over your weapons so we can get this over with,” Byron ordered.