This shower wasn’t built for two people. Angie and I kept cracking elbows, fighting for the water. So we made a compromise. I can stand under the showerhead while washing her hair. That way, the water can flow off me and down onto her, but I have to massage her scalp. Apparently, a willy-nilly lather of her curls isn’t good enough.

“Switch,” Angie says.

So we rotate, allowing her to rinse her hair while I freeze my ass off. I grab the body wash, squeeze some onto a loofah, and coat my skin in suds. 

“Don’t forget me,” Angie says, her eyes closed so she doesn’t get shampoo in them as soapy water runs down her face.

“I gotta wash myself, too, you know.”

“I’ll scrub you down as soon as we’re done with me.” Angie wipes her eyes and peers at me. “I promise.”

“You also promised an epic BJ…” 

“And I haven’t broken that promise. It’s coming. In fact, it’ll be a surprise when it happens.”

“You kill me,” I groan, watching the suds stream down her breasts and legs. “Little Miguel is getting excited.”

“I see that.” Angie grins, taking my girth into her hand and stroking the tip. “OK, fine. Epic BJ coming right up.”

She smooths her hands around to my ass and squeezes it, then slides down my legs. I’m so ready for this. Having Angie’s mouth on me is like transport to another dimension where I see stars and the whole damn universe. I don’t know what she does with her hands and tongue, but it’s amaz—

Shit. 

At the most inconvenient time known to man, I recall the photos of Evan.

“Fuck!”

“We’re not fucking again. My vag needs a break.” Angie closes her mouth on me, and hot damn, that feels good.

But I need to concentrate.

“No, not that. It’s Evan,” I say.

Her voice is muffled, thanks to my dick, “Evan?”

“Yeah.”

She drags her lips off me and looks up. “Are we inviting him for a threesome?”

“Fuck no!”

“Then why are you distracting me from this epic BJ?”

I step back. Reluctantly. “Gotta tell you something.”

“Well, you’ve already ruined this epic moment, so on with it.” Angie staggers to her feet against the slick shower floor, so I steady her.

“We should get dry.”

Opening the curtain, I grab one of the towels on the hooks and step out. I don’t even care that I still have body wash running down my skin. “Augusta showed me photos of Evan talking with the cops. She called him an informant.”

“What? No.” Angie shakes her head and turns off the water. “What could he possibly know.”

“Gee, the fact that Jackson and I covered up Barry’s murder for Chloe and got rid of the body.”

“Oh, yeah… that.”

“Exactly.” I dry myself, then wrap the towel around Angie and begin drying her, too. 

“I just don’t see Evan squealing to the cops about it. Chloe is one of his best friends. He wouldn’t rat her out like that. Exposing you means exposing her.”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” I exit the bathroom.

“How?” Angie trails after me.

“I need Sammy. Maybe he can do an old-fashioned Mob interrogation.”

“But it’s Evan. I’m sure if you talk to him, he’ll tell you the truth.” 

“Yeah… maybe.” I pause while reaching into a dresser drawer for undies. I have no idea what to believe, and I’m starting to understand why Augusta has become paranoid about who she can trust. “There is one more thing I haven’t told you yet.”

Angie exhales a long breath and leans against the door frame, folding her arms. “Like what.”

“Earlier, I began telling you about an offer Augusta made me, but then we got distracted.”

“Well, I hope the distraction was worth it! Now hurry up and tell me what that ratchet woman offered.” 

“Protection.”

“What kind of protection, and in exchange for what?”

“She wants me to work for her. Be her eyes and ears. My first gig would be the gala, with a fifty-thousand dollar sign-on bonus.”

“Shit…” Angie’s expression drops, along with her shoulders. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah.” I finally tug on a pair of boxer briefs, but Angie remains in the doorway, wrapped in the towel. “One thing she said is that we’re already exposed. The cartel knows who we are. There is no going back to a normal life, but under her wing, we’re untouchable.”

“We? She would extend this protection to me, too?”

“There is no way I would negotiate without us being a package deal.”

“Wait.” Angie pinches the bridge of her nose and then looks up at me. “You’re not considering this, right?”

“No...”

Although I did stay up all night mulling it over. What if Augusta could help Angie remove the conservatorship and regain her sister? Sure, Gwen offered to help, but she doesn’t have the power to sway a judge the way Augusta can. It might be worth it just for that. 

“Miguel!” Angie stomps her foot, and it’s kind of cute. 

“I mean, shouldn’t we at least weigh the pros and cons?” 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“She’s giving me a few days to decide.”

Angie’s expression turns deadly serious as she narrows her eyes at me. “It’s been decided. The answer is fuck no!” 

“You should put some clothes on before you catch a cold,” I mutter.

“That’s not how you catch a cold! And don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not.” I toss one of my shirts at her, and she snatches it out of the air.

“Yes, you are. We’re talking about something so serious I forgot I was standing here naked. Yet, you want to brush off the conversation because you’re concerned I’ll catch a cold.”

“Well, you might, and it’s pretty distracting seeing you naked. How can I think with your tits on display?”

“This is bullshit.” She throws her hands in the air. “You’re deflecting.” 

“Maybe.”

“We don’t need her or her help. Besides, we have Sammy. I know he’d help me if I ask.”

“Speaking of that old Italian man. I should call him.” I brush past her and head for the living room.

“About Evan?”

“Yeah. I need advice.”

“Fine, but this conversation isn’t over, Miguel.”

“Fuck me running!” I stop dead in my tracks, my head falling back as I groan at the ceiling. “I forgot what a headache it is to have a girlfriend.”

Angie’s footfalls pause behind me, but then the taps of her bare feet resume as she circles me, arms folded.

“Girlfriend, huh? I thought you told your mom we’re not together.”

“I guess I changed my mind.” I shrug and brush past her again as if I didn’t casually slap a label on our relationship. 

I snatch my cell phone and the TV remote off the coffee table and sink onto the couch to dial Sammy. Angie gets in front of me, blocking the telly, and she's still only wearing a towel. Her arms are no longer folded, and there’s some weird expression on her face like she’s trying not to smile.

“So, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Yeah.” I lean to the side and click the TV on, but she blocks me again.

“I need you to ask me properly.”

“Huh? What are we in high school?”

This time, she folds her arms and raises her chin. “No, but how do you know I want to be your girlfriend unless you ask.” 

“Fine.” I toss the remote aside, slide off the couch like my spine is jelly and land on the floor like a pile of goop. I take her hands and look up at her with puppy eyes. “Angelina Mendoza, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend so we can continue cohabitating, having wild sex, and being toxic together?”

"I can't with you!" She yanks her hands away. “We’re not toxic. Sure, we have our bullshit, but at least we acknowledge we’re not perfect, and we’re working on it.” 

“Whatever you say, honey.”

“This isn’t a very romantic ask.” She pouts, so I peel myself off the floor and get to my feet.

“Will you be my girlfriend or not? The offer expires in two minutes.”

“Fine, but you better take me out to dinner every week. None of this minimal effort shit most men do.” 

“Sure, I’ll take you to dinner and buy you flowers and all the romantic shit you deserve. Happy?” I sink back onto the couch.

“Not until you deliver on your word.” She wedges her knee between mine, a smile teasing the edges of her mouth. “I’m about action, handsome. So I’ll believe it when you sweep me off my feet.” 

“Sweep you off your feet, huh?” I grab her by the ass and yank her down onto my lap. She giggle-yelps. I’m starting to like the sound of her contentment, so I brush a few wet curls away from her face to digest how her smile lights up her eyes fully. “I know I’m not good at expressing how I feel, but one thing I know how to do is be romantic to show that I care. You’ll become so sick of how sweet I am to you.” 

“Doubtful.” She slides off my lap. “Anyway, I need to get ready to leave.”

“To where?”

“I get to see Ana today. Remember? I texted you about it last night while you were at your mom's.”

“Right…” I scratch my skull, but I don’t recall shit.

“I need to get ready. I just hope Jeremiah doesn’t show up. He likes to do that.” 

“Then I’m going with you.” I rise from the couch and follow her.

“You don’t have to. Besides, don’t  you have that Evan situation to tend to?”

“That can wait! I’m going with you.”

“You don’t hav—”

But I scoop Angie into my arms, her legs kicking, and toss her short ass over my shoulder. She yells at me to put her down, but there is no way in hell she’s facing that dickhead, Jeremiah, alone. I give her booty a soft spank and flop her onto the bed. The towel falls open, and little Miguel likes it too much.

“Do you honestly think I’ll stand by while my girlfriend goes off to face her abusive ex-husband alone? No ma’am. See, with me, you also get a fierce protector.”

Angie bites back a smile. “OK, fine, boyfriend. You can come.”

"Good." I kneel in front of her and push open her legs, grinning. "I think this deserves a celebratory feast."

"We don't have enough ti—"

Angie goes quiet the second I bury my face between her legs and make the first stroke with my tongue.

But she doesn't remain quiet for long.

∆∆∆

The garden at the care home Ana was placed in is just as peaceful as the last time I was here. She and Angie hold hands while strolling past beds of flowers, and I keep a few paces behind. Every once in a while, Ana will glance back at me and smile. I think she approves of me being here, and I must admit, it’s a great feeling to be accepted.

“How about here?” Angie says. “This spot is perfect.”

Ana nods. “Ok.” 

The two of them spread a small blanket over a patch of grass circling the koi pond, where flashes of fish swim beneath lily pads. I’m holding our lunch in both hands, so I wait for them to get comfy, then kneel and set everything down. Angie jumps right into pulling out Ana’s food.

“I brought your favorite.”

Ana’s eyes widen. “Shrimp tempura sushi?” 

“Of course.” Angie carefully arranges everything in front of her sister, then pulls out more food. “Got crab rangoon, too, since I know you love it.”

“And mango ice cream from Mitchell’s?”

“Yes,” Angie laughs. “I just hope it hasn’t melted.”

“Nope.” I peek inside the cooler we brought. “Still frozen.”

A look of relief sweeps over Ana’s face. “I’m so happy. Jeremiah had them put me on a diet, so now all I eat is boring and tasteless food.”

“A diet?” Angie’s fingers freeze from opening a soy sauce packet. 

“Jeremiah said I’m getting fat.”

“Fat?” 

“Yeah…” Ana looks down. 

Although Angie maintains a neutral tone, her tense shoulders and the change in her breathing say she’s ready to find Jeremiah and claw his eyes out. “When did he say this?”

“Earlier this month. I gained five pounds, but that’s only because I was about to get my…” Ana’s eyes flash to me, then she looks back down and whispers. “My period. And then I gained another five pounds because there were a few parties, and I had a lot of cake, but you know I rarely eat sweets.”

"I know, and there's nothing wrong with having cake."

"But I had a lot..."

Angie shakes her head and rests her hands over Ana’s. “You don’t have to explain. Ten pounds is nothing. You aren’t fat. Eat all of the desserts you want."

“Jeremiah said if I don’t get on a diet, I’ll just gain more weight.”

“Ana…” Angie closes her eyes, trying to compose herself, then opens them and strokes her sister’s face. “You’ve always been petite. You’re my flaquita, and you’re beautiful. Who cares if you gain more weight?”

“Jeremiah said—”

“I don’t care what he said!” Angie finally snaps, and Ana’s body becomes small like a scolded puppy. So, I try to lighten the mood.

“Hey, let’s be rebels and eat the ice cream first. Ana, you go first.” I hand her a plastic spoon. 

“I’m sorry,” Angie whispers and wipes the corner of her eye. “I just hate that Jeremiah has made you think you’re fat. You’re not, Ana.”

“But when I sit, I have a roll now.”

“What roll? Are you kidding me?"

"My face looks rounder." Ana touches her cheekbones.

Angie pulls her hands down. "Stop. There is nothing wrong with your body. In fact, I wish I had your body. Mom blessed you with all the right curves. Meanwhile, I’ve got these saggy tits and a droopy ass.”

“Hey, I like your tits and ass,” I blurt, and that causes Ana to burst into laughter, her hand covering her mouth. 

Angie glares at me, but she can’t fight the smile. I steal a kiss, making her smile grow brighter and Ana laugh harder. And just like that, the stinky Jeremiah energy has lifted.

“Ooo, Angie is in love,” Ana teases.

“Am not!” 

“Angie isn’t a good liar,” Ana says to me. "I know when she's in love."

“Plus, she’s too blunt to lie," I add.

“The bluntest person ever.” Ana shifts to Angie. “So when can I go home with you?”

“Soon.”

Ana’s gaze drops to our food. “That’s a lie.” 

“It’s not.” Angie takes Ana’s hands. “I’m trying really hard. I promise.”

“I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home with you.”

“You know I want you with me. More than anything.”

Ana’s voice cracks, her watery eyes pleading. “Please, Angie. Please don’t leave me here.” 

“I’m not. I have someone who is going to help me get you back. It’s just going to take time.”

“How long?” Ana cries. “I’ve been here for almost two years. I want to go home. I don’t want to see Jeremiah anymore. He’s mean.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“No!” Ana stands. “You don’t know. I’m all alone here, and I want to go home.” 

“Ana, wait.” 

Angie runs after her sister and throws her arms around her, embracing her from behind. Ana tries to break free, and they struggle for a bit, but Angie manages to hug her again. This time, Ana doesn't fight it, and both of them are sobbing. I can tell by the way their bodies shudder.

“I hate him,” Ana's voice floats through the garden back to me. “I hate him.”

"So do I," Angie says.

And I do, too. I hate what Jeremiah has done to Ana. I hate what he’s done to Angie.

Suddenly, it's clear what I have to do. There is only one way to ensure he can never hurt them ever again.

*
*
*
Last time I gave you the sexehhh. This time I give you the cupcaking. I almost don't recognize Miguel and Angie anymore with all this sweetness... well, their version of sweetness lol.