Page 207 of The Fire We Make

He brushed past him, speaking to his peers on the way out. “You gentlemen have a good evening.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Joy felt like a zombie or a ghost haunting the halls of Thibodeaux Trucking as she walked in the office. She’d done all she could to lock in on her goal and her duty but her soul seemed to revolt against it.

This is where you belong, she reminded herself.

A voice in her head that sounded eerily like Ace’s spoke then.

But is it what you want? The voice asked. Or just what you think you deserve?

Before she had time to ponder it, a familiar frame leaned against the entrance to the back hallway gave her pause.

Long and lean, with locs pulled to the back of his head.

Arms crossed over his chest with a toothpick between his teeth.

“Wassup princess,” he said softly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“Glock,” Joy smiled as relief settled over her. The familiar face was grounding. Her partner in crime was a reminder of all she’d worked so hard to return to.

He pushed off the wall and held his hand out. Joy slapped and gripped it in a dap then initiated the handshake they’d created as children that sealed their bond.

“It’s good to see you,” he said with that crooked smile Joy was always immune to but seemed to make every other woman from Houston to Miami swoon.

“It’s good to see you too,” she replied with a smile of her own.

He pulled the toothpick from his mouth, his gaze assessing as his brows pinched. “You good?”

Joy blinked. “Y-Yeah… Yeah I’m good. Why?” she asked, blinking the uncertainty, fatigue, and overwhelming melancholy from her eyes.

“You don’t look like yourself,” Glock observed.

“I don’t feel like myself,” she admitted quietly. The woman she thought she’d snap back into when she returned home didn’t seem to exist anymore. She didn't feel like herself. She felt new in a way that no longer fit in this life and this place and the thought was terrifying.

Glock’s look of concern hardened. “You don’t have to do this. You know that right?”

Joy sighed. “This is mine,” she explained for the second time since she’d returned, trying to convince herself as well as Glock. “I can’t just give it up. I won’t.”

Glock nodded but before he could respond, Joy felt another presence join them.

She turned to find Jermaine standing there.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

“It was before you showed up,” Joy grumbled, looking Jermaine and his poorly tailored suit up and down. She couldn't help but compare how he looked in his off the rack suit to how Ace looked in his custom designer.

Stop it, she scolded herself.

“Hm. I thought we fixed this issue but I see we’re gonna have to work on that mouth,” Jermaine glowered down at her, the sick anticipation of what he planned to do to her shining in his eyes.

“You got bigger fish to fry, my nigga. You need to work on finding a barber that won’t push your shit back,” Glock commented.

Joy couldn’t contain the snicker that bubbled out of her mouth.

Jermaine turned his glare on Glock then. “You should really show me some more respect. I’ll be your boss soon.”

Glock grinned, removing the toothpick from between his teeth and flicking it at Jermaine’s feet.