Usually, I would be annoyed listening to the mastication of someone eating. Especially in the dead silence of my apartment, but after the events of tonight, Jackson and Angie’s chewing is like a lullaby. It’s nice having company. Otherwise, I’d be forced to sit with my thoughts, which would lead to thinking about Augusta, and what we did. My stomach still twists. The sex was hot, but then there’s the sick reality of what it actually was. 

I still don’t understand her motive.

Perhaps I never will.

I reach across the table and snag the pepper shaker, then sprinkle some on my ketchup. Angie eyes me as I grab a couple of fries, then swirl them in the ketchup and pepper mix.

“That’s weird,” she says mid-chew. 

“No. It’s delicious.”

“No. It’s weird.”

Rolling my eyes, I take the pepper and shake it over her ketchup, but she’s too slow at smacking my hand away and I managed to get a good amount on there.

“Enjoy.” I grin.

“Oh, fuck off.” Angie steals a few of my fries, then dips them into the ketchup and takes a bite. She chews slowly, her eyes searching the table, but then she rolls them. “Ok, fine! It’s good with pepper.”

“I know.”

“So, Angie…” Jackson sighs. “What’s the plan to get your deadbeat ex to Alma’s extraction?”

“I’m thinking we come up with a different plan for Jeremiah. I’m still waiting for Franky to get back to me.” 

“What a crazy world.” I blow out a breath and run my hand across my head. “Who would have thought that your ex is connected to the Sisters and their world.”

Angie shrugs. “I’m not surprised. Once your eyes open up to their world, you see that everything is a giant sticky web.” The doorbell rings, so I look towards the entry, but Angie checks her watch. “It should be Chloe. She’s giving me a ride home.”

“I should get going too.” Jackson stands. “It’s been a long night. Even though I won’t sleep a wink, I gotta try and get some rest for tomorrow.”

“Me too.” I collect our garbage from the table. “I’ll text you with the deets for our meetup with Kay.”

“What are we gonna do if he accuses us of taking Richie?”

“Deny it, of course. He can’t prove anything.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Jackson claps my shoulder with a sigh. “I’ve got your back, just don’t get us killed.”

“I won’t. Plus, Sammy will be watching our six. He said to let him know when we meet with Kay, so he can be there just in case shit goes sideways.”

Angie’s attention darts to me. “Don’t get the old man killed.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll say my prayers tonight.” Jackson crosses over to Angie and motions to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

“I mean it, Miguel,” she says over her shoulder, reaching for the door. “Protect that man at all costs.”

“I will,” I laugh, and dump our trash into the bin.

Dusting off my hands, a yawn escapes my mouth, and the long day is hitting me like a brick. I’m ready to crash and forget about things for a while. However, when the door swings open, Angie and Jackson freeze. 

“The fuck?” Angie gasps.

Things rarely cause that woman to gasp, so my butthole clenches. I can’t handle any more surprises, and I’m expecting the worst when I step behind them, but it’s not the worst.

Nor is it the greatest.

In fact, shit could be better.

Chloe is standing in the hallway, but she’s not alone. Evan is with her, his hands in his pockets with his shoulders bunched up by his neck as he looks up at us. The last time Jackson and I saw this guy was at Chloe’s apartment when she killed her ex-husband Barry, and he threw a fit. He hasn’t been returning any of our texts, so why is he here?

“I, um…” Evan stares at his feet. “I want to help with Alma.”

Jackson and I dart our eyes at each other because how the hell does he know we’re planning something? 

“What do you mean?” I say, but he still won’t look us in the eyes.

“Listen, I know shit went bad the last time we all saw each other, but I want to help.”

I shrug. “Ok, then wait for the cops to do their investigation like the rest of us.” 

“Come on, man.” Evan glances up. “You expect me to believe you guys aren’t doing anything to find her?”

“Show them what you made,” Chloe says to him.

So, Evan bends over, grabs something off to the side, and when he rises, it’s a box. “I made missing person flyers…” 

“They’re really nice,” Chloe says, lifting the lid off the box, and removing a copy to hand to us. “See? And he picked a great photo of Alma from Gwen’s barbeque a few weeks back.”

“You did good,” Jackson’s voice cracks while staring at the flyer. “Fuck, I miss her.”

“This is why I want to help,” Evan says. “With more of us looking and putting up flyers… we can even put together a search party—”

“Evan…” I interject. “Alma was kidnapped. I don’t think a search party to comb the woods will help.”

“No, but we gotta do something!”

“We are doing something!” Jackson lashes out. “You think I’d sit by while my girl is out there? Gino took her, so I know he left a trace, but we gotta let the police do their job. They’ll find her.”

“Right.” Evan nods his gaze at his feet again. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re not doing anything. I just wanted to help.”

“And you can,” Angie says, her eyes flicking to me, then back to Evan. “Tomorrow, me, you, and Chloe can go around putting up the flyers. I’m stuck dog-sitting since Miguel and Jackson have to work, so we can take the mongrel for a walk while we’re at it.” 

“Just tell me when and I’m there.”

"Sounds like a plan," I say, glancing at Jackson.

We still can't trust Evan after his reaction at Chloe's apartment. He knows we got rid of Barry, so we'll have to keep our plan to save Alma to ourselves, for now.

∆∆∆ 

My body must be telling me that I need to take it easy. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out cold. Hell, I don’t think I rolled over once, so when my eyelids peel open from the incessant knocking at the door, I’m all sorts of perplexed. 

What time is it?

Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, the time on the screen says seven AM. Jesus. Did I sleep through the entire night? Throwing the covers off, I flop out of bed like a fish since my body doesn’t have a chance to connect with my sleepy brain and I land on the floor with an oomph. 

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck,” I groan, but the knocking continues. “I’m coming! Hold your damn horses.”

Getting to my feet, I tug on a pair of sweats from a pile on the floor and make my way to the door yawning. Would Kay be here this early? I double back and grab the gun under the bed. It’s best to be safe than sorry, but I keep it behind my back when I open the door.

“Good morning,” Augusta greets me with her eyes scrolling up my bare torso. 

She looks like she just came from a board meeting with her hair slicked back into some fancy ‘do, and a tailored suit with the blazer cinched at the waist to show off whatever lace thingy she has on underneath. 

“Uh…” I click the safety on the gun and shove it inside the back of my pants. Although, I should point it at her head knowing how she manipulated me. “What are you doing here?”

Without answering, she steps into the threshold, forcing me to step aside. “Bernard, this will take a while…”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nods and grabs hold of the doorknob, but I don’t let go, so we play tug of war with it.

“No, Augusta. How about you tell me why you’re here!” 

She takes a seat on the couch and crosses her legs. “Miguel, don’t act like a child. It’s unbecoming. Release the door.” 

“Are you fucking serious!” I shout, and step toward her, which is a mistake because the door shuts behind me. Bernard wins. “Bloody hell!” 

“I have news.”

“On with it then.” I fold my arms but remain across the room.

“You’re adorable when you’re upset.” Augusta eyes me, lighting a cigarette.

“There’s no smoking in here.”

“Too bad.” She blows a cloud of cancer toward me. “Emilio has agreed to let you do a swift extraction for Alma, which is why you will be meeting with Kay today to go over the plans. Has he contacted you yet?”

“So, I guess you fucked him good last night then,” I huff. 

“I did.” She blows more smoke toward me. “Business is business.”

“Sounds more like prostitution,” I grunt.

“I call it taking control.”

“Is that what you did with me?” 

“No. What we did was fun.”

“Fun for you.” I widen my stance and stare her down. “You took advantage of me.”

“And you accepted my money like every other greedy scrum of the earth.” She cocks her brow. “If it was so terrible, why did you take it?” Augusta leans forward with elbows on her knees, and smirks. “I think deep down you enjoyed it. Perhaps even felt empowered by earning so much money for something so pleasurable.”

Clenching my jaw, I continue staring her down. Maybe there is a tiny part of me that got a little dopamine hit from bending such an influential woman over the chaise lounger and making her moan so hard she lost her voice. But it isn't real. It was a game to her.

“I don’t want any more of your slutty money. So don’t even think about it.” 

“We don’t need to involve money to have fun.” She winks, but I look away.

“So are we done here?” 

“Well, I was thinking we could…” She unbuttons her blazer and shrugs it off her shoulders. So I turn away again, shaking my head.

“No.”

“Come on, Miguel. This time really is just for fun.” She crosses over and reaches up to cup my face. “I think if you relaxed, you’d realize we could have a great arrangement.”

“I’ve got things covered in the sex department, thank you.”

“Last I checked, Mindy dumped you.”

“And my hand is an amazing replacement.”

“But not the same as a woman’s touch…” She drags her hand down my waist, so I pluck it away.

“I’m still not a gigolo you can wave money at to lick your cunt.”

“Feisty.” She grins. “Which is why I’m not paying you this time.” She slides down my legs into a squat, pulling my sweats with her, and this is all too familiar. 

“Augusta, no.” 

“Just a little fun.” She tugs my undies down, and my morning wood betrays me as it proudly stares her in the face.

“I said no—”

Then her mouth is on me, and it feels too good. I tilt my head toward the ceiling, doing my best to ignore the amazing sensation. Yet, I can’t bring myself to push her away. 

∆∆∆ 

Two hours later, we’re laying on my bed, both of us on our backs, and staring at the ceiling as Augusta blows smoke rings. I absently run the tips of my fingers up and down my sternum to soothe the crackling confusion sitting in my chest. 

We’ve been laying here post fuckery for about thirty minutes, chatting. It almost feels normal, and not like I just let my dick do the thinking with a woman that views me as a human dildo.

None of this feels right.

“That’s why Jocelyn can be such a brat." Augusta takes a drag of her cigarette. "She didn’t get as much time with our mother, so in a lot of ways she’s still this lost little girl wearing pigtails.”

“And you said it was breast cancer?”

“Yes. Our mother was so young when she passed, and because of how much older I am than Jocelyn, I ended up taking on the mother role. But I was still a teen. I wasn’t ready for that.” Augusta turns on her side, her elbow propped. “Last year I had a scare. My doctor felt a lump in my right breast. It ended up being a cyst, and they removed it. This is why I have a scar. See?”

She takes my hand, moves it to the side of her boob, and traces my finger over the ridge where the sutures left a mark. But this feels too intimate. Why is she being vulnerable with me? I don’t like it. So I pull my hand away.

“What is the point of all this?”

“What do you mean?” she laughs.

“Seducing me. Why are you really doing it?” I sit up and glare. “And don’t lie to me.” 

“Are we not having fun?”

“Tell me, damn it!”

“Fine…” Augusta rolls away from me and hops off the bed.

“Where are you going? Get the fuck back here!”

But she ignores me as she exits the room, so I scurry after her naked backside down the hallway, and into the living room. She bends to snatch her purse from the couch, and fishes out her phone. Mine is on the kitchen counter and pings multiple times in a row.

“There.” Augusta cocks a brow. "You asked for it."

“Ok…” I go over to my phone and open the messages to a slew of pictures. 

I scroll through them, and all of them look like paparazzi or a spy took them of me being intimate with Augusta on her balcony. Another is of her handing me money, but the last few photos are from today. Something about seeing myself in a third-person point of view while performing sexual acts, has my stomach churning. 

Augusta taking advantage of me was already awful, but this is a complete violation. My gaze rises to meet hers, and lava floods my veins with rage as I clench the phone in my fist. “What the fuck is this!?”

“I’ve been getting death threats.”

“And!?”

“And I can’t trust anyone. So if I turn up dead, and you had something to do with it, those photos will go straight to my lawyer who will then take them to the police.”

“And what the fuck do these photos prove?” 

“You’re a smart boy. Put it together. Sex. Money. One could argue that you were a scorned lover extorting thousands from me. The truth doesn’t matter as long my lawyer can make sure you pay for killing me.”

“I can’t believe this…” I rest my hands on my head, the gears spinning in my mind as I try to digest what she said. “You can’t be serious. This is blackmail. This is a lie.”

“It’s necessary.”

“No. This is insane. Why would I want to kill you?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Miguel. Why does anyone of your meager means want to kill someone? Money.” 

I throw my head back with a scoff, “I have two jobs. I don’t need extra money.”

“But you did come to me for permission to kill your spouse. So I can’t rule you out.”

“I was never going to actually do it!" I throw my hands in the air. "I was there for Angie.”

“Right. We’re done here.” She grabs her clothes, and heads for the door, so I slide in front of her and block it. 

“Oh, no you don’t!”

“Bernard!” she shouts, and the door bangs against my spine, but I push back, and it’s now round two, as Bernard tries to shove his way inside, while I try to keep him out.

“You know, for being a smart woman who’s always a step ahead, you sure are fucking stupid and can’t see what is right in front of you.”

“Move, Miguel!”

“No. Instead of sniffing around me, and taking photos, maybe you should turn your sights on Jocelyn!” 

“Excuse me?” Augusta reels back. “How dare you.”

“Little sister isn’t so innocent,” I breathe in her face as the door continues to bounce against my back from Bernard trying to barrel inside. “She’s had Richie this whole time, hidden in the basement of her secret fuck house where she and Kay do all sorts of pervy shit to each other.”

“What?” Augusta’s breath hitches, and her mouth falls open. 

“Yeah, Jocelyn isn’t this lost little girl. She’s had Richie for a while, so you should be asking yourself why. Maybe she’s the one who wants you dead.”

The door finally flies open, and I’m sent stumbling toward my dining table. Bernard charges over, ready to turn me into dog meat, and this is about to be an ass-whooping of a lifetime, but Augusta cuts in front of him. 

“No! It’s fine. Let’s go, Bernard.”

He halts mid-stomp and whirls around. “But, ma’am. You’re naked…”

“I’ll get dressed in the car,” Augusta shouts as she exits the apartment. 

Bernard nods at me, then follows after her, removing his coat. “At least take my coat, ma’am.”

I’m still so caught in the cyclone of the last few minutes, that all I can do is walk to the door and shut it. But then my phone beeps and it’s Kay. We’re meeting at noon.

Guess I better prepare for the next storm.