Page 167 of The Fire We Make

Ace’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him forward so hard the chair legs screeched across the concrete.

“I asked you a question,” Ace said, his voice low deathly low.

“I–I thought⁠—”

Ace smashed his fist into the man’s face, then sent an uppercut under his chin.

He hit him only twice – clean and precise – but that was enough to make blood spray across the front of Ace’s shirt.

“You thought?” Ace echoed, releasing a sharp laugh that bordered on manic.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out? You thought taking me down would be easy?”

The man was silent. He sagged in Ace’s grip, holding onto consciousness by a thread.

Disgusted, Ace let him drop.

He plucked another man from his chair and without asking anymore questions beat him until his face was swollen and a few of his teeth had scattered across the floor. One or two landed at Joy’s feet.

Joy watched it all.

The violence.

The darkness.

The evil glee in Ace’s eyes as he doled out his punishments.

The pure, unfettered power flowing from him.

Her thighs pressed together slightly, trying to control her breathing and inappropriate thoughts as she watched him work.

She should have been repulsed, or at the very least, afraid.

But those were the last things she felt as she watched the man before her. He stood over three bloodied bodies, his chest heaving and blood covering his clothes like a dark angel of death. He was shameless, wielding his power in a way that was so beautiful, it made Joy want the same.

Her pulse spiked, not with the fear, anger, or anxiety that usually preceded one of her episodes, but with excitement and, if the warmth pooling low in her belly was any indication, arousal.

Ace paused his assault, wiping the sweat that had accumulated above his lip and the splatters of the men’s blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.

He locked eyes with Joy, and a smile spread across his lips.

He could see the interest lighting her eyes. The borderline hunger and desire for her own pound of flesh.

He held his hand out.

“Come here, Rose,” he summoned her, and she walked over to stand beside him.

“Do you want to?” he asked, his voice low.

Joy nodded sincerely. It was fucked up, but she did want blood. She did want retribution on his behalf and her own. She wanted the release that came with violence. That had always come with it.

Ace nodded, a small smile on his face like he was pleased with her answer.

“Then go ahead. No one is stopping you and I won't judge you. If you want to, you don't need to hold back. Not here. Not with me.”

Joy bit her lip, still a bit unsure. She didn't speak but she was sure her fear shone through her eyes. He was always able to decipher her through them.

The fear of going too far. Of doing too much. Of showing too much and going to that place that made people see her differently and not being able to go back to the way things used to be.