When I asked Mindy to meet me, I didn’t anticipate her to accept, but when she did, an immense relief exhaled from my lungs, and my entire body relaxed right along with it. I even slept soundly. The last time she and I spoke, things were left unsettled, so I have no idea how things will go or if my deal with Richie is a fool's errand. 

But at least she said yes. 

There’s fog on the mirror when I step out of the shower and wipe it off with my palm. Angie stares at me from the doorway. However, it’s nothing like how she used to gaze at me. There’s no hunger in it to devour my body. Instead, it’s relaxed, and I think we’ve reached a place of mutual understanding and respect. I’m no longer a human dildo to her, and she’s no longer a manipulative thorn in my ass cheek.

“Here. Let me help you,” she pushes off the door frame and steps into the bathroom. “You need a haircut.”

“Or maybe I’ll let it grow down my shoulders like Antonio Banderas in Desperado.”

“Would that make me Salma Hayek?”

“I wish. She’s a baddie,” I laugh.

Rolling her eyes, Angie slaps my chest with her hand, then grabs a gob of gel from the tub on the counter. She stands on tip-toes, her uninjured arm stretching to reach my head and twisting the gel through my hair. 

“Here…” I sink onto the toilet seat to make it easier. There’s a serene smile on her face as she smooths the sides of my head with her fingers, and of course, I have to ruin the moment by poking her belly. "Boop.” 

She slaps my hand, getting gel on the knuckles, but returns to styling my hair. This is nice. It’s like having a girlfriend without her being my girlfriend, and it’s been a while since I’ve received genuine tenderness from someone I’m attracted to. Then, I remember how weeks ago, I yelled in Angie’s face and used her scars against her.

Resting my hands on her abdomen, I murmur, “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” she asks, her fingers twisting through waves.

“For what I said about the scars on your stomach.” I swipe my thumbs across her lower belly. “How only someone who is crazy and hates themselves would do that.” 

“Oh.” Her fingers pause, and she retracts her arm.

“It was a shitty thing for me to say. You’re not crazy. Only wounded. Like me.” 

Angie’s gaze has gone to our feet, but her hand goes to the hem of her shirt, pushing it up toward her chest. This is the first time I’m seeing the scars this close-up. We’ve always had sex in the dark or early morning dimness. I could ignore them—even forget they were there, but now I’m digesting how bad they are in the bright bathroom light. The chaotic lines stare back at me as if a cat used her flesh for a scratching post. A rogue tear rolls down her cheek, so she captures it with the back of her finger, and her voice is quiet when she speaks.

“I was a little crazy when I did this to myself. I lost baby after baby and felt damaged. I hated my womb for being broken. I hated how it changed Jeremiah’s love for me. So one day, I grabbed one of his razors, and…” 

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I want to.” She closes her eyes, causing more tears to spill. “Doing this temporarily removed the pain I was feeling internally, and I hated myself anyway for losing my babies, so I punished myself for being broken.”

“You’re not broken.”

“But I can’t have kids.” She shakes her head.

“It means you can’t carry them, but you could try a surrogate or adoption.”

“Surrogates are for rich people, and I doubt anyone would let me adopt a child with my history. Thanks to Jeremiah.” 

“Never say never.” I lift her chin, and she opens her eyes. “There’s still plenty of time to figure out how to become a mom if you want to. In the meantime, maybe you should get a puppy.”

“A puppy?” she snorts.

“Yeah, there are tons of dogs out there needing a home.”

“Ok.” She smiles and wipes her cheeks. “Maybe tomorrow we can check out the shelters?” 

“Absofuckinglutely.”

Laughing, she returns to styling my hair, but I pull her in close by the waist and gently kiss her stomach. Her abdomen tenses, so I press another kiss, then another, figuratively healing her scars with love, and Angie’s arm wraps around my head, pulling me into her chest. We stay like this for a moment, holding each other in silence, and I feel like we’ve been doing this a lot lately.

Mending what is broken.

∆∆∆

The sun is setting over Golden Gate Park, and it’s wild to think the Abramovitz mansion is nearby while I sit here at the Beach Chalet Brewery waiting for Mindy. I snagged an outdoor table with a view of the park, and around me is the scent of fried food as laughter floats across the breezy atmosphere. Heating lamps glow every few feet, and above them are shades of pink cotton candy tinting the sky. 

On any other occasion, this setting would make for a perfect date, but it doesn’t get passed me that behind the brewery is the historic Great Highway, and Richie happens to live down the street in his house facing the ocean. 

What a small, small world.

Yet, this meetup isn’t a coincidence since Mindy chose this place. She’s finishing up with the Sisters about their damn party, so the brewery is conveniently close. However, it’s not the only reason she picked this place. I allowed Richie to text her before I got here. He asked her to come over, and just as I anticipated, Mindy took the bait. It makes me sick to my stomach how much power he has over her. She hasn’t heard from him in weeks, but as soon as he comes calling… she’s there at the snap of his fingers. 

As soon as we’re done here, she’ll drive down the road, back into the fuckers arms, and I hate myself for enabling it. 

But it had to be done.

The chair across from me shifts, so I glance up from texting on my phone, and Mindy is finally here as she eases down. Damn it, she’s beautiful. There is no denying it, with her dark hair cascading in chocolate waves down her creamy brown shoulders and the black liner bordering her hazel eyes in perfect sweeps. Maybe I’ll always find her stunning. 

“Hi.” I smile.

“Hi.” She smiles back, tucking some hair behind her ears, then grabs the menu. “Did you order?”

“Yeah. I got me a beer and that pink cider you like.”

“Double fisting?” 

“No, silly. The cider is for you.”

She laughs, “I know.”

“How’s work?”

“It’s going great.” She beams but fusses with the multiple bangles on her wrist, causing them to clang. “We finalized the menu and table arrangements today. They’re going to look spectacular. I want everything to look like twinkling fireflies, you know? Like little flickers of gentle light.”

“Sounds dreamy.”

“It will be. Plus, the Abramovitz mansion already has such lush scenery, so I went with a romantic indoor-outdoor vibe so guests can have champagne inside or cocktails in the garden. It’s a lot of work, but as of this evening, everything is complete. Now we sit back and wait for the big party.”

“Which is when?”

“Next weekend.”

“Are you going to be there?”

“Of course. I have to make sure the night runs smoothly. Thankfully, Nadia and Neil will be there as my assistants.”

“I’m proud of you.” I reach across the table, placing my hand over hers. “I knew you could pull it off.”

“Thanks.” She flashes a smile but retracts her hand. 

How can she still be upset with me yet ready to return to Richie after this? I will never understand it. Then again, this is the last time I will see or speak to her. So it doesn’t matter that she’s meeting with his abusive ass or that I will always worry if she’s safe. I made a deal with the devil to protect myself, like a selfish dick, and now I have to sleep in the bed I made 

“Sorry,” I say. “We never got to finish talking about what happened between us, and I shouldn’t expect things to return to normal.” 

She shakes her head. “I’m not upset anymore. I think I’m more disappointed with how things turned out. You seemed like the answer to me being happy again.”

Fuck. That’s a lot of guilt to throw onto my shoulders.

“I think we jumped into things too soon,” I say. “We are great as friends, so tossing sexual benefits in there was bound to go wrong. We still have a lot of shit we need to work through, and two damaged people can’t heal each other without patching their own wounds first.” 

“I’m not damaged.” Mindy furrows her brows. “For the first time, things are going great, and my career is flourishing.”

“I’m sorry. I just meant that we still have things to work on before a relationship could ever work.”

Mindy narrows her gaze. “No. The problem is you slept with me hours after sleeping with your ex-wife, and you didn’t tell me until afterward. Do you know how dirty I felt? You, of all people, should know how triggering it is since Richie used to screw everything that walked behind my back and then would come home and sleep with me. You broke my trust.”

“You’re right. I should have told you beforehand, and I regret it completely. I’m not making excuses. It was a shitty thing to do to you. I am sorry.” 

“It wasn’t just that you didn’t tell me until after we had sex. It’s that you slept with Celia at all. How could you do that to me?” 

“I know it’s hard to hear, but my actions had nothing to do with you, Mindy.”

She reels her head back with a gasp, “We were sleeping together! How could it not?” 

“Have you not sat beside me during group therapy for the past few months? I am one fucked up individual, but I’m trying to become a better person. My mistake was about my triggers regarding Celia and my childhood, which are connected in really fucked up ways. You got caught in the aftermath of my messiness, which wasn’t fair, and I am truly sorry it happened. So I understand if you can’t forgive me, but I hope you can at least understand me, too?”

Mindy stares back at me, her eyes glossy as she fusses with the bangles on her wrists. It’s an anxious tick, and she probably doesn’t know what to feel. I’m not Richie, but my actions triggered her, so I must understand her lack of trust in me now. Maybe I can bring this conversation back to a positive one because, yes, I am a complete mess of a person, but I’m trying to be better. That counts for something, right? 

“How about when the waiter comes around, I order a plate of chicken wings, and we can forget about this argument. Enjoy the sunset instead.”

“I don’t know…” she finally whispers. “Everything is going so well for me lately, and I think it’s because I’ve stayed away from the group and Richie. Nadia thinks our group is a toxic environment, and I think she’s right. Maybe one day we can be friends again, but for now, it’s best if I keep my distance.”

Mindy’s words are like bricks in my stomach, but it makes letting go easier. It’s a clean break, and in her mind, this was all her idea, when in reality, we’re parting ways because of my deal with Richie. She just expedited the goodbye. 

“It was great seeing you, Miguel.” She checks her phone. “But I do have to get going.”

The chair scoots out, and she gets to her feet to leave, but on impulse, I grab her hand. Her gaze flashes to me, so I plead with my eyes while rubbing her knuckles with my thumb.

“Whatever happens, don’t give Richie another chance.”

“What?” She furrows her brows and tugs her hand away.

“You can do better than him. He never deserved you, and neither did I. You deserve a man who will treat you like a queen, put you first, and never lay his hands on you unless it’s to massage you. Richie will never be that person. Don’t fall for his charisma.”

With a slight head shake, Mindy steps back. “Bye, Miguel. Take care of yourself.”

She walks away, and I’m left alone at the table as her silhouette disappears from my peripheral vision. The waiter finally arrives with our drinks, so I might as well order some wings and wallow in my defeat. However, as I wait for them to come, I sip my beer with something throbbing in my gut like a tsunami siren warning me about the impending danger.

Mindy isn’t safe with that fucker.

How could I shake hands with the devil, agreeing to sacrifice a lamb to a vicious wolf? What the hell was I thinking?

This was a mistake.

Downing my beer, I grab Mindy’s pint of cider and chug that, too, then toss a few bills on the table to cover the tab. My idiocy has put her in jeopardy. Who knows what Richie will do once he’s alone with her? Hopping onto my motorcycle, I call Angie. She’s with Sammy at Richie’s place, keeping surveillance for anything fishy, but the phone rings and rings until going to voicemail. Roaring the engine to life and tear out of the brewery parking lot and onto the Great Highway. There’s always traffic, thanks to commuters and tourists, so I weave around the cars stopped at the red light and take off as soon as it turns green. 

For the entire short drive, I think of all the scenarios that might occur and pray that everything will be fine. When I’m close, I park a block away, hop off the motorcycle, and sprint up to Richie’s home while sending a voice text to Angie that I’m going back on my word. Richie is obsessed and views Mindy as a possession. She’ll never be safe. 

Mindy’s car is in the driveway, so I creep around the perimeter like last time, searching for the cat door in the kitchen. However, I'm tackled to the ground. I don’t know who I’m fighting, and we tussle in the grass momentarily. Then Sammy’s gray head of hair registers, so I stop. For an old man, he’s pretty strong. I should start calling him an Italian Stallion. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses. 

“I can’t do it. Richie will hurt her again, and I’ll hate myself.”

“Stupid kid...” Sammy shakes his head but rolls to his feet. “This could make things worse for her.”

“I don’t know what else to do.” I roll to my feet too.

“I can have my men watch her in the coming weeks. If something don’t feel right, they’ll intervene.”

“But for how long?” 

“As long as it takes. This is bigger than all of us now. Whatever is going to happen at that party could be the chance to take back what’s ours.”

“And what’s that?” 

“The territory. My crew had it for a while, and those years were peaceful until the Abramovitz double-crossed and incarcerated us all. Imagine if the old gang were the ones calling the shots again?”

What in the hell is this senior citizen talking about? Shaking my head, I mutter, “I can’t with this right now. I need to get inside.”

“Fair enough. But we should talk about it later.” Sammy nods towards the door. “After you.” 

I reach through the cat opening to unbolt the lock on the door, and the hinges release a groan as I push it open, but I could give a flying wet shit if Richie hears us. We enter the kitchen, and murmurs float toward us from the living room as we tiptoe through the hallway. I'm ready to barge in on them, but Sammy grabs my arm and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Right now, they're just talking."

"Fine," I whisper, and we pause to listen.

“I don’t care, Richie. Now that you’re back, I need you to sign the papers. Your lawyer already has a copy, but here is another one.” The documents slap onto what sounds like a solid surface, and then there's the tap of Mindy's high heels. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?”

“Home. I told you this meeting was to deliver you a copy of the documents since you’ve been dodging my lawyer.”

“You’re not leaving!”

“Let go of me.”

“I’ve been on a business trip, and this is the shit you bombard me with now that I'm back? Not even a hi or hello.” 

“There is nothing else to say.”

“This is about Miguel, isn't it? You let him put his gonorrhea dick inside you, and now you think you’re hot shit.”

“Let go of me.”

“You’d rather fuck that dirty Mexican like a little whore begging for attention. Don't forget you are mine.” 

“Ouch!”

“This is mine,” he says, and I peek around the corner to see his hand between her legs. 

“Stop!” She shoves, but he doesn’t let go and clutches her privates harder. 

"You used to love this.”

“Richie, that hurts,” she wails when he squeezes her breast.

“You are mine. Do you hear me?” He tears her blouse open, and she shrieks.

“No.” Mindy blocks his hands, manages a hard shove, and runs for the door.

Every muscle in my body is tense as I emerge from the hallway, ready to dismember this asshole, but Richie pulls a gun from his waistband, and I'm not fast enough to knock it from his hands.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bullets shoot from the chamber with a piercing screech, striking Mindy, and she collapses.