Page 123 of The Fire We Make

“They are,” Ace asserted. He took a step closer and his chest brushed hers, making her nipples pebble beneath the dress and her neck having to extend upwards to meet his eyes.

One of Ace’s large hands came up to rest softly on Joy’s cheek. His thumb swiped lazily over her lip once, then twice.

“You’re hiding from me, Rose.” His hand trailed down, off of her face and grasping her neck in a gentle but firm grip.

Any other man would’ve had her knife buried in their gut for the action, too close to what Jermaine had done to her all those months ago.

But Joy didn’t get flashbacks of the past. Ace’s intentions were clear to her and the look in his eyes made her mind conjure fantasies and promises of the future rather than the violence of her past.

“And every reason you’ve come up with in that pretty head of yours why we can’t act on what I know we both feel is bullshit,” Ace said, his face so close that his breath fanned Joy’s lips.

Joy swallowed hard against his palm.

“It’s late,” she repeated. “I should go.” Joy abruptly pulled away from him, snapping herself out of the lull of his touch and the warmth of his words. His hand fell away easily but she could still feel the ghost of it.

She didn’t dare look at him again before she pushed through the glass double doors and stepped into the night air.

Not for the first time since she arrived in New York, Joy felt a burning of hatred creep up her throat.

Yet another thing the men in her life had stolen from her.

Ace was perhaps the greatest man she’d ever known and thanks to the men who raised her and the men who’d broken her, she didn’t know if she had the could ever let Ace in.

Being away from him was safer. Keeping her distance was smarter. She’d do well to remember that, even when his eyes called to her and his hands secured her.

“Excuse me!”

Joy was so caught up in her head, she didn’t feel the presence trailing her or hear the footsteps contrasting her own until the voice calling out to her was too close for comfort.

Joy kept walking, increasing her speed in the opposition direction of the beckoning voice.

“Ms. Thibodeaux! Can I speak to you for a minute?”

Joy slowed at the sound of her name but didn’t stop. She turned, finding a man trailing closely behind her with an aura that screamed cop.

Her assumptions were confirmed when the man’s face came into view, and he pulled a badge on a chain from beneath his wrinkled button down.

“Detective Harris. Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Not without my lawyer, you can’t,” she declined, turning to continue her trek.

“You’re not in trouble Ms. Thibodeaux,” he chuckled, jogging to catch up until he fell in stride with her.

“I’m apart of the task force investigating the King family and —“

“I can’t help you,” Joy cut in. “Goodnight, detective.”

She increased the pace of steps but skidded to a stop when the detective’s cold hand wrapped around her wrist.

“I suggest you let me go,” she warned through gritted teeth. Joy’s pulse quickened and she was sure he could feel it beneath his fingertips. He likely thought it was nerves or fear that had her heart racing, little did he know that only one of them had reason to be afraid.

“The firm you work for is run by a bunch of thugs in expensive suits. They’ve been terrorizing our city for a long time and we’re close to bringing them down. You seem pretty close to the younger Adonis King. Help me take him down and I’ll ensure you stay out of the crosshairs.”

“For the last time, detective, I can’t help you. Please let me go,” Joy said calmly. She silently prayed that he’d heed her request as the warning that it was. She was a hairs breath away from an episode, and killing a cop wasn’t exactly laying low. If her father ever got wind of the incident, he’d never allow her back.

“So you mean to tell me that you’ve been working closely with Adonis and know nothing.”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”