"Fuck you," Choyce seethed, stepping toward Honey. "You think my sister doesn't care about me… but who gives a fuck about you, huh?" Choyce taunted with the same twisted humor Honey used.
"I know all about you, Honey Daniels," she continued. "Born to Maple Daniels, father absent, but your stepfather stepped in and helped Maple teach you how to be a?—"
Choyce's words lingered as her eyes roamed over Honey in disgust.
"Whore," she finally finished. "I can't lie. Your resume is impressive. You've robbed a few big names out in Philly and even set a few of them up to die. But none of that is your greatest sin now, is it?"
The more Choyce spoke, the easier it was to understand why Honor might've been drawn to her. She was beautiful with chocolate skin that glowed naturally, slanted, catlike brown eyes that held a spark of mischief, and perfectly shaped lips. Her curves were prominent where mine were subtle, and her hair fell past her shoulders in loose curls. Choyce had beauty and sex appeal, but I knew Honor. A woman's physical appearance alone wasn't enough to draw him in. It had to be her mind. The way she crafted her thoughts and presented them.
When Choyce was in her element, she was intoxicating. This version of her delicately pulling Honey over the edge was a far cry from the Choyce who opened the door. She spoke with an eeriness I'd only ever heard from the men I grew up around. Starting off sweet, lulling you into thinking you have the upper hand, until she let your misstep stir her emotions. Only then did the venom in her words reach the tip of her tongue, and Honey was close to being poisoned.
"This isn't about Honey," I intervened, trying to defuse the situation.
"No, but she made it about herself when she spoke out of fucking turn." Choyce smirked. "Now, back to what I was saying. You've done a lot in Philly, but I don't think anything can top what you did to your first love. What was his name?" Choyce tapped her chin as if she were genuinely trying to remember.
"Don't," Honey warned.
"Too late." Choyce smiled cruelly, stepping further into Honey's space. Honey towered over her by a few inches, but that didn't stop Choyce. "Ryis was him name, right? I heard all about how your first love was also your first vic. Good ole Maple put you on to him. Taught you how to work that little Siamese pussy but forgot to teach you how to protect your heart. I couldn't imagine setting up the only person in the world who gave a fuck about me. I guess some of us are colder than others."
Choyce's voice dripped with malice.
Honey stood perfectly still, but the murderous glint in her eyes said otherwise. Her fists clenched at her sides. Every muscle coiled like a spring. Choyce, drunk on her own words and the illusion of control, didn't see it coming. Then Honey moved, shoving Choyce. She stumbled back, and before she could react, Honey's fist swung and connected with her eye.
"Bitch, do you know who the fuck I am?" Choyce heaved.
Honey didn't answer with words. She answered with her fists. Choyce did her best to fight back, but she was no match for Honey. Whatever happened between Honey and her first love ignited a different level of ferocity in her, one that left no room for hesitation.
"Ain't no way you got all that fucking mouth and can't fight," Honey grunted, sending Choyce crashing to the floor. Honey glared down at her, smirking, before reaching for the gun tucked in the small of her back.
I crouched beside her. Her effortless beauty was now marred by the crimson streaks across her face.
"I gave you two options," I stated, shaking my head, my voice tight with controlled anger. "This didn't have to happen this way. All I wanted to know was why you felt comfortable enough to kiss my man. Now? I don't even care because I see the type of bitch you are."
Choyce let out a low, mocking chuckle, tilting her head against the cabinet door. "Oh yeah? What kind of bitch am I… other than the bitch your nigga kissed back."
I dropped my head, laughing humorlessly, then straightened up, rising to my full height.
"You're the bitch who'll never be satisfied in life because you hate everything about yourself. You're uncomfortable in your own skin, so you steal pieces of those you envy, thinking it'll make you whole."
Choyce shrugged casually as if my words didn't bother her.
"Sounds like you more than it does me."
Reaching across the counter, I pulled a knife from the block and pressed the tip into my finger.
"Sharp," I murmured, watching with quiet fascination as a single drop of blood welled up almost instantly. "Stand up," I added.
Choyce watched me, humor swimming in her eyes.
"Am I a joke to you?" I innocently asked.
"This ain't you, Navy. You're not a killer. Your father made sure his little princess never got her hands dirty."
I looked toward Honey and nodded.
She closed the distance, pressing the gun to Choyce's temple.
"Laugh again," Honey quietly hissed, "and I'll show you how fast a joke can turn into a funeral."
