"Unless, what?" Asatira questions.

Don't know how this crazy shit popped in my head—oh yeah, Sherrell. "Unless you stay here and take care of Sherrell."

"No!"

"What do you mean, no!" Is this girl stupid or what?

"I...I... can't take care of Sherrell," she stutters. "She needs around-the-clock professional care."

"Looks like you got that handled, sweetheart." Asatira's quick action saved Sherrell's life because God knows I wouldn't know what to do besides call 911.

"B...B...But still. I don—"

I hold my hand up, stopping her in mid-stutter—damn, she's that afraid of me. "Sweetheart, either you take care of Sherrell or be Pablo's girl."

Once again, tears well up in her eyes. "Yes," she quivers.

I cup my ear. "What did you say?"

"Yes," she squeaks.

Damn, this girl is even quieter than the mouse roaming around Sherrell's place. "Where did all the bravery from earlier gone to? Speak louder, girl!"

"Yes! I'll take care of your grandmother," she explodes this time.

"Good." I advanced towards her, meeting her eye to eye. "And next time, don't let me repeat myself."

She bites her split lower lip and glances at her purple toenails. "S...Sorry."

"Clean up the place in the morning and see to my grandmother, understand!"

She nods her head.

The following morning, a loud whistling sound wakes me up. I stretch out my back. The couch's spring dug into my back the entire night, and whatever this shit sound is, it isn't helping me get back to sleep.

I hobble to the kitchen, holding my back. The smell of bleach and lemon creeps up my nose. No dirty dishes overflow the sink. Everything from the stove, counter, and cabinets is clear of any grime. Even my feet don't stick to the linoleum.

But what puts a smile on my face is my grandmother having a laugh with Asatira. I haven't heard her laugh so loud since grandpa. The two women sip on their teacups like old gossiping girlfriends.

"I remember my David would—good morning Nolan, did we wake you up?"

"You actually did. I haven't heard you laugh so loud since I was a kid."

"I was boring Asatira here with tales of a woman past her prime."

"Oh shush, Sherrell. I love your romantic stories," Asatira chirps.

"Child, there ain't nothing romantic what my David put me through."

I clear my throat. That's enough of the chitter-chatter.

"What is it you want, Nolan?" Grandma asks, but I don't like her haughty tone.

I ignore her and focus on Asatira. "Get me coffee."

Asatira springs to her feet and pours coffee into a mug.

"Asatira, Nolan can get his own goddamn coffee. You ain't nobody's servant."

I arch my right eyebrow. Sherrell may bitch up and down, but Asatira knows who she needs to obey. She ignores Sherrell and brings me the coffee.

Grandma shakes her head. "Asatira, what did we talk about? Don't be a pushover." But Asatira doesn't respond and instead sits opposite Sherrell.

"I see you put yourself to good use," I say to Asatira.

"No thanks to you," Grandma quips.

"If you weren't a stubborn hag, you wouldn't be living in filth," I return. God knows I tried getting someone up here to clean the house. But Sherrell is impossible to be around. The Mexican cleaning lady I brought lasted a few days, and the other that came after didn't fare well either. It's a miracle she's getting along with Asatira. Or the little girl put something in her tea.

"If I had a thoughtful grandson who gives a shit about me, I wouldn't have to."

"Grandma—"

"No, no, grandma, nothing. I spent countless years taking care of your ungrateful ass ever since you were in diapers. God knows that your mother wouldn't have done it.

"And I'm grateful, Sherrell, for what you and grandpa David have done for me."

Although Sherrell and I state again, is a major pain in the ass, I couldn't imagine a day without her annoying wisecracks. My mom hightailed it out of the hospital after giving birth, and my grandparents picked up the slack. Treating me like I'm their son.

"Yeah...but I had...to go through...that knucklehead of yours. You're just...like your grandfather. You never listen..."

"Sherrell, please calm down. You know it isn't good for you," Asatira begs as she puts the oxygen mask on grandma's face.

"You see. She's the one starting up shit," I say to Asatira. But, instead of seeing my point, she stares me down; LittleMouse has fangs.

"So, Sherrell, can you tell me more about the biker ladies?" Asatira continues the conversation with grandma.

"Oh yes, we ran the entire coastline. No man could tell us what to do. Until I ran up to this idiot's grandfather." Sherrell nods her head at me.

"Hey, I thought you loved grandpa."

"I still love your grandfather." Grandma's voice breaks, and she plays with the blue topaz ring grandpa proposed with. She gazes up at me, and her eyes twinkle. But all the tenderness disappears as soon as she opens her mouth. "But that don't mean that he wasn't a pain in my large behind." She stomps her quad cane.

A beat of silence lingers throughout the kitchen until grandma breaks it. "Asatira, please help me. I want to go outside and work on my garden."

"Sure thing Sherrell."

"Yo, Matthews, I need you to hold off on the Pablo deal," I say to my Secretary through the phone.

"What, are you fucking kidding me!" I hold my iPhone away from my ear. God, his loud ass mouth is gonna burst an eardrum.

"Watch yourself!"

"Pablo's dude is already on his way!"

Like, I don't know that already. Pablo is a stickler for time, aka don't let him do shit for nothing. "Deal with it. I have other plans for the girl."

"Fine. But Pablo isn't gonna like this."

I hang up the phone and lean back against the kitchen's backdoor.

The backyard is a mess. Old and new motorcycle tires pile up on the side of the fence; a grocery cart with empty plastic bottles blocks the backyard door; empty beer crates lie all over the mid-size backyard. Not to mention, the tons of weeds and tall grass make it impossible to spot the ground floor.

If you don't take Sherrell's breathing problem into account, she's a sturdy lady you wouldn't want to mess with. She's down on her knees, plucking out weeds with an oxygen mask and all. And Asatira is not far behind. Anyone in the girl's place would be in bed crying their eyes out instead of helping an old lady.

The two keep plucking and talking like old friends. After a while, Asatira slides beside me to get through the kitchen.

"E-Excuse me," she stutters.

"You're putting yourself to good use. And it better, from the deal I'm missing."

Her gaze wanders to every nook and cranny in the kitchen except my eyes. She nods her head up and down, black, flowy hair bouncing up and down. I whip around to look at her retreating frame. I rub my eyes, and damn, her curvy little ass swallows the entire sweatpants. Her swaying hips make my dick stir.

"Down, boy." I hold my crotch.

"Nolan, get your behind out here," Grandma hollers. Damn this woman. I love her, but she's a pain.

I take a deep breath." Yes, Sherrell, what do you want now."

"Boy, you better watch yourself before I tan your behind."

"I would like to see you try, old hag."

"Do you see what I deal with, Asatira?" Asatira comes back outside with a tall pitcher of iced tea and sets it down on the white metal table. "Good for nothing jackhole—"

"You wanted me for something?" I ask Sherrell.

"Yeah, we need you to clean this shit out." She points to the entire backyard.

"Hell no, that's why she's here." I nod my head towards Asatira, who finds the ice melting inside the jug more interesting.

"Young man, you brought this shit to my house. You clean it up. And you need to go to the store and grab the soil and other shit. Asatira is gonna plant me some sunflowers." Grandma smiles at Asatira and then stares me down. "And before you start whining, remember who cleaned up your stinky behind when you were a baby. Or the time—"

"Fine," I growl.

"Thank you, sonny, and take Asatira with you. She needs to get to know the place if she's staying."

"What! No!"

"Nolan," she threatens.

Goddammit, this woman is gonna put me in an early grave. "Asatira, come here." The girl stands up and saunters to the kitchen, and I follow behind. The plus side of having this little girl here is the unobstructed view I get of her thick behind.

She turns around, and she catches me ogling at her behind. If she didn't want me lingering, she shouldn't bounce that sweet ass up and down. Still, I make my point clear: "Listen, I'm taking you downtown. But if you tell anyone anything, even a single squeak, I'll cut your throat LittleMouse. And don't even think Sherrell can stop me."

She nods, and her eyes glisten in fear.

"Use your words. I'm tired of all the nodding."

"Y-Yes."

"Good. Clean yourself up in the bathroom, and I'll bring you a pair of my clothes. You reek of dirt."

She walks in front of me towards the bathroom and pulls the shirt down, well, attempts. No one can't hide that ass. I turn to my room, and the moment I open the door, my jaw drops to the floor.

I'm not a pig, but cleaning my room isn't a priority. The pile of dirty and clean clothes that lay in the corner is no longer there. And stepping further inside, I peek into the dresser and find my clothes folded and color-coordinated.

"Well, ain't this some shit," I whisper yell.

The old food stench no longer saturates the room. Not even the dirty dishes that I know for sure lingered under the bed have disappeared.

"Jesus, LittleMouse, what did you do all night."

I grab a clean pair of shorts, a shirt, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. Asatira's face still looks like shit, and I don't want people poking their nose in my business.

On the other side of the bathroom door, the rushing water hits the tiles. As soon as I step inside, Asatira's loud screams fill the tiny bathroom.

"Jesus, girl. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

She bends over, trying to cover her breast and hairy pussy.

"Don't take long. I got shit to do thanks to you." I throw the clothes on the sink and dart out of the bathroom.

Glancing down, my dick pitches a tent inside my gray shorts. I close my eyes, and the image of her trimmed pussy flashes before me.

"Damn."

As we leave suburbia, the remnants of old Kirikwell come into view—creaking wood and grinding metal of the abandoned buildings echo through the abandoned strip. The gold mines brought people from all over. When the mine ran out, the people left, and then the money. A big city conglomerate bought the worthless land under old Kirikwell and the bankrupt businesses, kicking everyone out.

Now, if you want anything, you need to ride further down south. The new Kirikwell has flourished throughout the years. Although it isn't as big as the other nearby towns, it's on the rise.

I park the van in front of Kirikwell's only general store, Harold's General store. "Listen here." I stare at Asatira. "Remember what I said. Keep your mouth shut, and don't talk to anyone. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. You're finally using that pretty little mouth of yours."

Instead of looking me in the eye, she focuses on the kids playing outside the hair salon. We hop out of the van and go inside Harold's.

"Good morning, welcome to—oh, it's you. Long time no see, Nolan. How's it with your grandma?"

"Hey, Harold. You know Sherrell. Same as always, a pain in my ass."

Harold releases a chuckle. "And who is the pretty young thing with you?"

"Someone grandma is hosting for a while."

"Alright." Harold saunters up to Asatira and sticks his hand out. "My name is Harold Johnson, and I'm the proud owner of this here establishment. What's your name?"

Asatira takes his hand but says nothing. Instead, she scans my face for permission, and I nod. Harold is one of the few people I trust in Kirikwell.

"Asa...Asatira."

"What a pretty name for a pretty young lady."

"Thank you," she grins.

"Yo, Harold, where's the gardening stuff."

"At the back and then take a right. Is Sherrell planning to do some gardening?"

"Yeah, she got a sucker to help her out." I lean my head towards Asatira.

"You know I offered to help, but she's as bullheaded as a padlock."

"Tell me about it."

"But let me get Jimmy to help you out. He's home from that fancy university of his."

"No, there's no need," I assure Harold.

"Nonsense, boy. You know we here at Kirikwill are here to help."

"Fine old man. Send the boy tomorrow morning with the supplies."

From wheelbarrows to rakes to soil and seeds, we got everything for Sherrell's fucking garden. Asatira shocked me while looking around the store. LittleMouse wouldn't stop talking—and didn't stutter—about the different flowers and vegetables that grandma can grow. How gardening could help with her health. LittleMouse even spoke about her desire to visit the Keukenhof in the Netherlands.

"Yo, gran, what's the Wi-Fi password in this du—?" A skinny guy with a blond unkempt comb-back burst from the backroom.

His gaze lands on Asatira, looking her up and down. And I don't like it one bit.

Harold introduces his grandson Jimmy and the kid tags along with the excuse of 'helping' us. He follows us around like a lost puppy, asking Asatira a bunch of questions. I let it go because LittleMouse isn't giving him any attention. But the young buck crosses the line when he asks for Asatira's number.

"Kid." I stop the kid in his tracks, poking my finger into his chest. "Back off, if you know what's good for you."

"Is she your girlfriend? She looks a bit young for you, old man," the little shit sasses. The disrespect with today's youth.

I stand toe-to-toe with the kid, who is a few inches shorter than me. My blue eyes staring down at his own pair. "If you weren't Harold's grandkid, I would have wiped the floor with your punk ass. Don't arouse my anger if you know what's good for you."

What has Jimmy boy gotten himself into?