Despite being outside, where birds chirp in the trees and the leaves rustle in the breezy sunrise, there is silence as Augusta stares back at me, with smoke curling from her mouth. Never in a million years did I think someone like her would offer me money for sex.

Or that I would be considering it.

“Can… Can I have a second to digest this?” 

“Make it quick.” 

Heading back into the room, I pull out my phone and dial Jackson, but he doesn’t answer. So I call Angie, and after a few rings, her groggy voice is on the other side.

“Angie!” I blurt.

“It’s too fucking early. I just fell asleep after having nurses fuss with me all night!”

“I’m sorry. I know you need rest but I, uh… I’m at Augusta’s and—”

“Does she have news on Alma?” 

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And I need to do something first.”

“Like?”

“Well, for one, she wants me to spy on Jocelyn.”

“What. Why?”

“I’ll explain later, but she also wants me to, um…” I scratch my head and peek over my shoulder at Augusta, but her face is pointed toward the sky, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth from the sun.

And her robe is still open, with her nakedness still on display.

“She um…” I blow out a breath. “Wants me to go down on her.”

“What!”

“Yeah…”

“That’s not funny, Miguel. Don’t fuck with me. What does she really want?”

“I’m serious. She says she wants to have fun because sex is usually a business maneuver for her. Or some shit like that, so this is for her, blah, blah, blah.”

“And if you do this, she’ll tell you about Alma?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Then why are you wasting time talking to me? Go.”

“Angie, but—”

“But what!?”

“This doesn’t bother you?”

“Why the fuck would it bother me? Go! And you better lick her good until every last bit of information comes out.”

“Angie, but what if this isn’t the end of it? What if she keeps having me do things for her, and it becomes this never-ending quid pro quo,” I say, but her line is silent, and when I look at the screen, she’s no longer there. “Shit.”

Sliding the phone into my pocket, I stare at Augusta again and swallow hard. There is no going back once I place myself between her legs. Any glimmer of hope in having a relationship with Mindy, even as friends, will be obliterated. I won’t be able to look her in the eyes anymore. Hell, I don’t even recognize my reflection in the mirror across from me. Gone is the man who used to stare back at me before this all began. Life for that man was far more straightforward. Now I keep stepping in dog shit.

But I take a deep breath and walk onto the terrace into one more pile of figurative shit.

“Have you decided?” Augusta peeps at me.

“I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.” She beams.

“And you’ll give me the information on Alma right after?”

“Of course.”

Nodding, I get onto my knees. This is a business transaction. Nothing more. But Augusta leans forward and cups my cheek with one hand, her eyes searching mine.

“This will be fun. I promise,” she says, her blue irises burrowing into my brown ones, and there’s something about how she gazes at me. 

I almost believe her.

This woman must be pretty lonely if she’s asking someone like me to perform a sexual favor. It has to be a desperate move—one from someone who was taught that what’s between her legs can be used as currency. 

Has she ever known genuine love?

Leaning back in her chair, she closes her eyes with her face pointing at the sun again, and she looks at peace with what’s about to happen. So I drape Augusta’s legs over my shoulders, the smoothest pair of gams I’ve ever touched, and run my fingers over them. The sensation leaves goosebumps on her flesh, and she probably eats baby placenta or whatever freakish thing rich people do these days to make their skin so soft. 

This is a transaction, I remind myself. I’m not getting off on this. So, I sink my mouth onto her, and Augusta releases a moanful sigh, but her eyes remain closed.

This is a transaction.

Ten thousand to make her come and to get the information about Alma. 

This is a cakewalk.

A business transaction.

However, I’m a few licks in and realize I haven’t heard another peep out of Augusta. The additional amount she will pay me depends on it, but Augusta is now staring at me as lazy curls of smoke drift past her mouth from the puff she just took. 

Even her breathing pattern is consistent with the steady rise and fall of her chest. She’s way too calm.

“You’re not into this. I can tell,” she says.

“I’m just warming up. I swear you’ll be begging for more once I’m done.”

However, she’s not impressed and shoves my head away, then closes her legs.

“Wait. What are you doing?” My eyes widen.

“This is supposed to be fun, but you clearly don’t want to do this.” She stands, and her thigh brushes past my ear as she heads back inside while I remain on my knees, like a failure.

“Augusta, please!” 

“No. You can go.”

“Wait!” I rush after her and fall to her feet, my hands prying her knees apart. “You said if I did this, we would be square, and you would tell me about Alma!” 

“Miguel, you had one chance…” She bats my hands away, so out of desperation, I lock my arms around her legs, my cheek pressed to her lower abdomen, and I beg.

“Please. You didn’t give me a chance. I need one more chance.”

Before she says another word, I kiss down her stomach to where her thighs meet with her perfectly waxed bikini area—my gaze locked on hers, begging. Smoke streams from her mouth as she studies me, but then Augusta rolls her eyes.

“Fine,” she says.

And Her knees part, so I dive back in, causing her to release a moan from deep in her belly.

I don’t stop.

Not even when she grips my hair so tightly that she might rip my scalp off to keep herself steady.

I keep going.

Everything else becomes a blur as I continue, and it’s as if I’m having an out-of-body experience where I can see myself pleasuring Augusta and what it’s doing to her, but I’m too far away to feel it. This is a transaction, and I’m not leaving until she tells me about Alma.

Time passes, but I’m not sure how long. I just know I’m getting the job done, and I’m doing it so well that Augusta’s legs can no longer hold her up, and I’m forced to back her up to the chaise lounger. When I’m finished, she stares at me like I’m her favorite vibrator, yet she remains quiet as a mouse while a limp cigarette dangles off to the side between two of her fingers, while her other hand remains tangled in my hair.

So, I pluck it from her, take a puff, and blow the smoke toward the painted sky on the ceiling. 

“Satisfied?” I choke out, the smoke exploding from my mouth with the word.

“Not a smoker, are you?”

“No.” I wipe my mouth.

“Now that was fun.” Her eyes gleam with a smile, and she spreads herself across the chaise lounger with a sigh. “You can use my bathroom to wash up.”

And like some hooker, I go in there, turn on the gold faucets, and wash my face, arms, and hands with soapy water until my flesh is scalding. Yet I don’t feel it. My body is still floating somewhere up there, watching me as I return to collect the stack of cash waiting on the coffee table in front of Augusta. 

“Looks a little short.” I fan through the bills. “Twenty grand for each orgasm. I gave you two. Where’s the rest?”

“How about I give it to you if you return this weekend?” Augusta eyes me, complete satisfaction stretched across her face.

“No.” I shove the money into my pocket. “I’m not a gigolo. This was one time.”

“That’s too bad. You’re a lot of fun.” Augusta rises from the lounger and grazes past me to the chest of drawers, pulling out more cash. “Here is the rest and a little extra for your troubles.”

“You have cash like that hidden next to your panties?”

“Perhaps.” Extending her arm, she holds out the money while walking back to me, but when I grab it, she doesn’t let go. “I’ll throw in a little more if you bend me over the chase lounger and finish me off.”

This can’t be real. “So you mean to tell me you’re not satiated after what I did?”

“I am,” she sighs, letting go of the money. “I figured it was worth a shot learning what else your mouth can do. Mindy is a lucky woman.”

I avert her gaze. “We aren’t together anymore.”

“Ah, yes. I recall you saying something about that last time you were here.” Augusta cocks a brow. “What happened?”

“I messed up. Had sex with my ex-wife on a really shitty night.”

“That’s too bad. Now she’s missing out on that mouth of yours.”

Shaking my head, I cross my arms. “So, about our deal.” 

“Yes. I’m not a monster, Miguel. I do keep my word. You’re free to go.”

“I meant the information on Alma. Or did you lie about that?”

“I’m not a liar.” Augusta pulls a long t-shirt from one of the drawers, slips it on, and heads back to the lounger. “She’s still in the area. Emilio’s men tracked a caravan of trucks awaiting departure at an abandoned building. One of his men on the inside reported that the caravan would begin moving tomorrow night. He confirmed the cargo is women.” 

“Is one of them Alma?”

“He thinks so.” Augusta reaches for her phone, and seconds later, mine chimes. “I just sent you a video. The footage isn’t the best because one of his inside men had to take it discretely, but he believes that’s Alma.”

My thumb brushes over the screen at the shaky video of a row of women gagged and bound to iron beams of what looks like an underground parking lot. One has dark hair and sharp yet soft features like Alma’s Latin indigenous ones. Her eye is bruised, and she flinches when a man approaches, then unties a woman beside her. The woman screams, but her cries are ignored as she’s dragged away kicking, and my stomach is in my boots as Alma looks around, her eyes wide in fear. 

“No,” I breathe when the video cuts out. “There has to be more!”

“There will be. Emilio is a man of his word. He despises human traffickers, so he will not let them leave the country, and his inside men have been instructed to do everything in their power to keep the women and Alma alive.”

“We have to go there. We have to rescue her!” 

“Is that what you want to do, Miguel?”

“Absofuckinglutely!” 

“I’ll speak with Emilio tonight. I don’t want a war on the streets, but we can see about a swift extraction.” Augusta lights another cancer stick, and I swear she’s a damn chain smoker.

“Good. Just tell me when.”

“It will cost you.” She blows the smoke toward me.

“Like what?”

“You already know…” Augusta rotates to straddle the chaise lounger, slides up her shirt to reveal her bare ass, then looks back at me. “Finish what we started, and tonight when I’m with Emilio, I’ll have him eating out of my hand and agree to whatever you want.”

“So, is this how you do things? You use your pussy to get your way?” 

“Only when I want to. I don’t allow any man inside me, and I’m allowing you, Miguel.” Augusta wiggles her bottom. “What’s it going to be?”

The wad of thousands in my pocket is heavy, but not as heavy as the conflicting thoughts I can’t shake. What if this is the beginning of her asking for more things like this from me? But the video of Alma replays in my mind. She looked terrified, her eye swollen and bruised. What else have they done to her?

So I step forward.

This is for Jackson.

This is to save Alma and their baby.

It’s a business transaction. Nothing more.

∆∆∆ 

When I exit the mansion, the taste of Augusta remains on my tongue, and the scent of her mandarin lotion is stained on my skin, too, but something else lingers. It’s something in my gut that twists. However, I can’t pinpoint why. It’s not regret. It’s something more profound.

Thousands of dollars sit in my pocket, and as the early morning breeze flutters through the eucalyptus trees, I hear my mother’s words: your heart is in the right place, but sometimes you scare me.

And these days, I scare myself too. 

If my ex-wife Celia were here, she would bitch me out about how impulsive I am. But this wasn’t impulsiveness, right? I had to do it. One of the points of contention Celia and I had was that she always needed time to digest before making decisions. Whereas I always wanted everything to be solved in the moment, and to her credit, my eagerness usually created adverse outcomes. 

But this is different.

I did this so Augusta can convince Emilio to extract Alma—to allow us to rescue her.

And I think about this as I hop into the black SUV that is taking me back to Penthouse to pick up my motorcycle.

I did the right thing.

I know I did.

*
*
*

Thanks for reading! I had to split this chapter. It was becoming too long, and I still wanted to post a new update for you❤️