Page 150 of The Fire We Make

“Test me and find out.”

Ace only grinned. His eyes trailed over her face, taking in her features from the pretty lips to the eyes that still managed to take his breath away.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, moving a curl out of her face. His first thought when he saw her dressed up earlier that evening was that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Now, seeing her point a gun at him with promises of violence and fire in her eyes, he didn’t think she could get more beautiful.

“I need some answers, otherwise I’ma have to put a bullet in your pretty head and that would break my fucking heart.” He punctuated his threat with the barrel of his gun at her temple.

She stared at him unblinking. Unmoved.

“Talk to me, Rose,” he pleaded, his voice softening slightly, becoming tender for her, even now.

Slowly, she lowered the gun, placing it on the floor beside her with a thunk and Ace did the same.

Joy looked at him with glistening eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. She blinked and a singular tear slid down her cheek that she didn’t bother wiping away.

Her eyes fell to the dress at her feet and gingerly picked it up.

“I couldn’t burn it,” she whispered like she was making a confession.

“The dress?” Ace asked.

She nodded.

“The night we met, I killed someone. Two people. When I got home, I had to burn the dress I wore to get rid of the DNA. I hesitated… because it smelled like you.”

Ace froze, his mind warring with both her confession and the realization that their brief encounter had impacted her the way it’d impacted him.

She lifted the dress, running her fingers over the fabric. “I should burn this one too, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Joy smiled wistfully at it. “The way you looked at me when I came downstairs in this… like I was the prettiest girl in the world. You’re the first man to ever look at me like that and after what you saw today… I don’t know if I’ll ever see that look again.”

Joy was silent as she turned her attention back to the fireplace. She pushed her knees up, hugging her legs to her chest and resting her cheek against her knees.

Ace’s heart clenched. “Joy,” he exhaled, her pain so tangible it made his own heart ache.

“I thought I could prove I was normal so I could go home,” she whispered. “But I just fucking can’t.”

She dropped the dress and pushed her fingers into her hair with a frustrated growl.

Ace slowly lowered beside her, abandoning his planned interrogation in favor of comforting her instead. As soon as he sat, Joy turned to him with eyes full of tears as she met his gaze.

“How is anyone gonna love me like this?” A few silent tears streamed down her face but that was the only physical sign of her emotion. Her expression was blank with resignation and her voice didn’t shake or crack.

She wasn’t shattering, she was numb, and Ace didn’t know which was worse.

Without thought, he pulled her into his arms, offering a comfort she hadn’t asked for but he knew she needed. Giving her the space to break if she so chose.

"My daddy was my favorite person in the world…” she started. “Even before my mom died, we were inseparable.

“He would take me to the gun range on the weekends when I was little. My mom hated it but it was our thing. At first, he’d just let me watch him blow off some steam. Then, when he saw I was interested, we’d sit there after he was done and he’d teach me the anatomy of a gun while we cleaned them together. He told me about his past life and how he used to run the city. That he and Mel’s dad were building an empire but he gave it up, not wanting my mom to go through what Mel’s mom did.”

She chuckled humorlessly. “He said I would’ve made the perfect heir, though. Even then, he said I had the best parts of him and the best parts of my mom blended together to make something powerful. Something both beautiful and dangerous.”

“How old were you?” Ace asked.

Joy heaved a deep sigh. “About eight.”