"You busy, Ang?" Skeeter questioned as he poked his head into their new shared office. The office had originally been too big for just his small desk, so he added a new one for her to use across from it. So far, he liked the set up, and the fact she could have her own computer to work on while he was using his desk for other things.
She looked up from her computer screen where she was looking at a few pictures Ellie had e-mailed her. "Nope. What's up, Skeet?"
Skeeter tossed her the newspaper, pointing out an ad. "New flower shop opened up downtown. Think you could go check it out? Thinkin' of makin' a deal with the owner, but I'm not good at all that flowery shit. Can you see if that'd be a good move?"
Angela laughed as she pushed away from the table. "You got it, boss."
The flower shop wasn't that far away which was awesome considering the place they usually got flowers from was in the next town over. This option would save a lot of money on gas in the long run. Pulling to a stop in front, she hitched up her black slacks and walked into the shop. It was a small place, but the arrangements in the fridge were spectacular. Whoever was the florist was definitely skilled at their job.
"Can I help you?" a voice asked from the counter.
Angela turned around on her heel and smiled at the woman behind the counter. "Oh hi," she greeted, approaching the counter. She extended a hand for the woman to shake. "Angela Ruiz. I work at Dubrowski's funeral home."
"Rita Roosevelt," the woman replied, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Ruiz. What can I do for you?"
"Angela's fine," she corrected with a wave of her hand. "My boss was interested in forming some kind of deal with you. We usually get our flower arrangements at Dario's over in Lodi. He was hoping we could change that."
Rita smiled at her as she nodded. "I'm assuming you're referring to funeral arrangements?"
"Yes. It looks like you've got a good eye for them, Ms. Roosevelt," Angela replied, her eyes glancing over at the pretty wreath hanging in one of the fridges.
"Rita is fine and thank you," she said, an enthusiastic smile on her face. " Do you get a lot of business over at the funeral home?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "It varies on a day to day basis. Our biggest clients are older spouses who always want the biggest and best in arrangements. Other than that, we have a ton of people who just visit. Once we start directing people your way, you'll get quite a few who just want simple arrangements to put on a loved one's grave."
"I like the sound of that. Not many people have come into the shop. I was beginning to worry."
"They're used to the crappy flowers from the market. When they see these, you'll get more customers, trust me," Angela said, gesturing at the brightly colored roses.
Rita smiled as she nodded. "I'm all for setting up some kind of business deal then."
Angela dug around in her pocket for the card she'd taken from Skeeter's desk. "Here's my boss's card. Give him a call, and I'm sure you can work something out."
"There a reason he didn't come himself?" Rita asked, a teasing look in her eyes.
"Skeeter said he needed a woman's eye for all that 'flowery stuff," Angela explained on a laugh. "He's basically colorblind."
Rita laughed in response, already liking the young woman. Angela had a warmth to her she hadn't been expecting when she first caught a glimpse of her serious face. "How about I make you an arrangement to show off? Do you think your boss would like that?"
"That would be great! Thanks!" Angela exclaimed with a wide smile. "Skeet's always looking for something to brighten the place up."
"No problem. I'll go see what I can do for you." Rita disappeared in back just as the bell over the door chimed just and the new lieutenant at the new Sheriff's office strode in.
He looked Angela up and down, his head cocked to the side. He'd seen the woman around town once or twice. Usually she was with Doctor Knowles or one of the Winston children; names he only knew because of his study on the Sons. Her name had never come up, but he was willing to bet she had ties with the outlaw MC. "Good morning," he said nodding to her.
"Morning Lieutenant," she greeted politely as she stood up straight. "How are you today?"
Roosevelt was a bit taken aback by her politeness. He'd never met someone associated with an outlaw MC that was so friendly with law enforcement. "I'm good. Thank you," he replied on a smile. "And you are?"
"Angela Ruiz," she said extending her hand to shake his. She knew he was planning to come down hard on the Sons, that he was there to help "solve" the crime problem, but she saw no use in giving him attitude; that would only hurt her in the long run. "I'm an undertaker over at Dubrowski's."
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Ruiz," he said on a nod. "Are you buying flowers for the funeral home?"
"Angela's fine," she corrected with a wave of her hand. She hated being called 'Ms. Ruiz'; it reminded her of her mother, and that was one woman she did not want to be associated with. "And yes, I'm getting some flowers for the home. Good for business. Both businesses, actually."
Roosevelt nodded, smiling at Rita as she walked back out with a huge bouquet. "Hey sweetheart," he greeted as his wife set the vase down on the counter.
"Hey honey," she replied with a bright smile. "Have you met Angela?"
"Just did," he answered on a nod.
"These all right?" she asked gesturing to the flowers.
Angela looked over the modest arrangement, smiling as she touched a very pretty pink lily; her favorite flower. "Perfect. Thanks." Her phone rang, filling the room with the sounds of Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze, the ringtone for the weed shop. She grimaced, mentally smacking herself for not putting her phone on vibrate. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she hastily hit reject. "Sorry about that."
"Never apologize for some Hendrix," Roosevelt said, smirking at her. "Important call?"
She shook her head. "Nope," she answered because she seriously doubted it was. The two other men who were helping start up the shop in Charming only called her for idiotic questions. The last one was to settle a dispute over the decorations for the waiting room. The man in charge of the weed half was insisting on a Bob Marley poster, the doctor in charge of colonics wanted something that looked like an ass. Angela had vetoed both and put a more kosher waterfall picture instead. "I should go, though. Nice meeting you two. Thanks for the flowers, Rita. Give Skeeter a call to set something up."
As she walked out of the shop and toward her car, she dialed the weed shop. "What's up, Angie?" the slow voice answered.
"Hey Hazer! You rang?" she asked as she strapped the flowers into the front seat. The fact the man's last name was Hazer and he was a self-proclaimed marijuana connoisseur never ceased to amuse her.
"Yeah, yeah. Can you come down to the shop? Me and Sergeant Butthole are having problems," he explained. She could hear their other partner, Simon, make a sound of protest at the rude nickname.
Angela sighed, pinching at her nose as she sucked in a deep breath. Sometimes the weed shop was more trouble than it was worth. "All right. I'll be right over."
--------------
Angela stared at the swatches of fabric in front of her. All of them in varying shades of green. She looked up from them to the two men sitting around her, both of them part owners of Clear Passages. The problem they were having was what color green they wanted for the scrubs the employees would wear. "I can't believe you called me over here for this," she murmured, fingering a particularly ugly looking swatch.
"I told him it wasn't necessary," Simon pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest, a smug look on his face. He was retired doctor who specialized in colons and such. Though he looked like a sensible old man with his stark white hair and little glasses, Angela was almost positive he'd been a hippy in the seventies; he knew way too much about weed for that not to be the case. "I like the mint green. Stoner likes the neon. "
"Mint reminds me of babies," Hazer explained, his hazel eyes red and hooded. He was only a few years older than she was, yet his dark hair was peppered with gray. "No one wants to think of babies when they're gettin' a tube up their ass."
"That's because it's the color the doctors wear in the maternity ward at St. Thomas," Angela explained with a smile. "The neon's a little...bright, Haze. Might hurt some peoples' eyes. How about the hunter green? It'll look good on everyone."
"Nice choice, Angela," Simon said with a satisfied smile. "How's Juice doing, by the way?"
She smiled back. "I'm going to visit him tomorrow, actually. Last time we spoke on the phone, he was doing well, though. Asked about the shop and stuff."
"Tell him we got some Crimea Blue in. He loves that shit," Hazer said with a big grin. "We also got some of that Lavender shit for you, if you're interested. Juice said you might like it. It's particularly girly."
Angela rolled her eyes, leave it to Juice to order a strain of weed he thought she might like. "I'm good, guys. I only smoke with him, to be honest," she said politely. Though she was interested as to what a "particularly girly" weed strain entailed. "Thanks anyway. We all good here?"
"Yeah, Angie. Thanks for comin' over," Simon said, standing up from his chair and shaking her hand. "Thought I was going to have to kick that kid's ass. Neon green. Ridiculous"
"No worries. Anytime Si. I'd rather have you call me than kill him," she assured him.
Hazer rolled his eyes and pulled her into a half hug as he led her back to the front door. He slipped a little baggy and a plastic card into her hand. She raised her eyebrow as she studied the medicinal marijuana card. "I didn't ask for one of these."
"Juice did. Just in case," he said, winking at her. "Guy wants to make sure you don't get in trouble."
She smiled at him, slipping the weed baggy and the card into her pocket. She loved the little things Juice did for her while he was inside. He'd even managed to send her flowers the other day; a beautiful bouquet of stargazer and tiger lilies. "Thanks, Haze."
--------------
Angela waited at the table in the cold visiting room. She made eye contact with Tara who was waiting at her own empty table a few rows down and smiled at her friend. They'd decided to visit together since the drive was long and there was no reason that both of them should drive separately. Jax had come in just moments before which left Angela anxious to see her own man. She drummed her nails on the metal table top, her knee bouncing up and down with nervous energy. The buzzer went off and her heart lurched in her chest as she glanced towards the entryway.
Juice paused at the doorway when he saw her standing there. He couldn't believe she was actually there. It seemed everything had been against this moment happening. She was busy, he had his privileges revoked, her Mom had butted in. But now, there she was looking stunningly beautiful in her simple black tank top and dark jeans, her dark hair falling over her shoulders in waves. Shorter than usual, but not enough for most people to notice. He didn't start walking until the guard nudged him, pulling him out of his study.
Their eyes met and for a brief moment, she couldn't breathe. She wanted to run to him, throw her arms around his neck and just hold him tight, but she was pretty sure the guards would have a problem with that. Instead, she stood and waited for him to get close enough. They stood in front of each other for a brief moment, both just looking at the other in disbelief.
Then his lips were on hers, one hand tangled into her hair while the other arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her in closer to him. She melted into him, her knees going weak as they usually did when he kissed her. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She tasted like she always did, like that hazelnut coffee she loved, and he couldn't get enough of it. Out of habit, his hand had just slipped lower down her torso, fingers barely brushing her ass when one of the guards cleared his throat.
Angela pulled away first, a frown on her face. She had expected the interruption, but that didn't mean she liked it. Apparently, Juice shared her feelings because he was sending death glares at the guard. She laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging on it so he'd sit down with her. He took a seat, still holding her hand in his, his thumb dragging back and forth over the ring he'd given her. "How are things?" he asked, studying her face, trying to note any changes.
"Good," she answered on a shrug. "Busy. Not a day goes by that I don't get a call from Si or Hazer asking me questions. I swear I play referee more than anything over there. But, it's slowly getting off the ground. We've been getting a surprising amount of buzz for a shop that sells weed and colonics."
He chuckled, proud of her for taking on his business endeavor in his absence. "I knew it'd be a good idea."
"Goof," she accused with a roll of her eyes. She reached out a hand to brush over the scruff on his jaw, smiling slightly. He was usually pretty clean shaven from his mowhawked head to his face, but it seemed he'd given up while inside. Not only had his hair grown in a little, but he was rocking the beginnings of a mustache. It made him look different, older and harder. "How are you? How are things in here?"
Juice shrugged a shoulder, looking back down at her hands. "Y'know...boring. Nothin'...nothin' too crazy," he lied. He wasn't about to tell her about the way he was constantly on his toes, afraid that the second he turned his back he'd get shivved again. Yeah, they had protection, but that hadn't stopped the Russians from stabbing Jax. His nerves were shot, and he barely slept. "Lots of basketball."
"Oh yeah? Your shot gettin' any better?" she asked, remembering playing an intense midnight game of strip "HORSE" with him in the back parking lot of the funeral home. It'd ended up with him in just his boxers and boots and her in her bra and jeans. She'd suspected he let her win because he knew the next piece of clothing she had to take off was her jeans, and he wasn't about to risk letting the rest of the world see the panties he'd spent so much money on.
"Actually it has," he said confidently, his thoughts drifting back to the same moment. He'd let her win, but only because he knew it'd help him get lucky later on. Angela always got turned on when she won. He suspected it was a dominance thing, and it didn't bother him one bit. He was no sore loser, especially when he got his prize in the bedroom. "I kick ass in here."
Angela grinned at him, leaning over to peck his lips. "That's my man."
He reached a hand over to cup the side of her face, swiping his thumb over the bag that was under her eye. Despite her bright smile, his girl looked thoroughly exhausted. "You sleep at all?"
"Not really," she answered, an embarrassed blush rising to her cheeks as she looked down at their fingers that were still entwined. "The house...it's too...quiet."
"Hap told me Koz stays the night every so often."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah. He loves that whole arrangement. Have sex in the clubhouse and then bounce on the poor Croweater to crash on our couch. He says it keeps them from clinging."
Juice chuckled at that one, shaking his head slowly. "Nice," he said, smirking as she rolled her eyes. "You sleep better when Koz is around?"
"Nah. I don't even notice he's there until I wake up and find him on the couch. I swear to God, he makes absolutely no noise. Just like Hap. I don't know how they do that," she rambled, her free hand gesturing wildly.
"I'm beginning to think it's my snoring you're missin'," he teased, smiling as a guilty blush colored her cheeks.
"Maybe."
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, grinning like a fool. "You miss my snoring!"
Angela rolled her eyes as she hung her head in defeat. "Honestly? I do," she admitted on a smirk. "I never thought I would but...I can't sleep without it."
"Yeah, well your cousin's not too fond of it. Said he didn't care if I was your man or not, he'd tear out my vocal chords if I don't shut the hell up. I can't tell if he's kidding or not."
She laughed lightly at that one. With most people, a comment like that would just be a joke, but coming from Happy, it had to be taken seriously; it wouldn't be the first violent act he ever committed. "You never know with Hap," she said on a smirk. She knew Happy wouldn't touch him because he knew how much it would hurt her if something ever happened to Juice. "How's the food in here?"
With that simple question, they slipped into a normal conversation. They talked for hours about the stupidest shit. As they talked, the walls of the prison seemed to fall away, and Juice felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Being with her, talking to her as if nothing had changed made him feel like he was home again.
It felt like no time had passed when the guard finally made his way over to them. "Visiting hours are over," he said curtly, taking a step back.
Angela was surprised to find the visiting center was completely empty save for the two of them and Jax and Tara. Juice glared at the guard as he got to his feet, holding out his hands to help her up. He brushed a stray hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her. He took comfort in her kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in just a little closer.
"Stay safe, Angel," he whispered into her ear before he let her go.
She nodded in response, swallowing hard at the lump in her throat. She didn't want to leave him. "Be good, Juice. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay, baby. See you soon," he murmured kissing her forehead. She held onto his hand until the last second possible. He squeezed her hand once more before finally letting it go. As he watched her leave, the heaviness of his situation settled back in. It was like a cloud had rolled in front of the sun leaving him feeling cold and lonely.
--------------
"Nice office," Angela said as she walked into Tara's new office. It was a few weeks after her visit with Juice and the doctor had called her to see if she was free to look some things over.
Tara smiled, remembering the last time the undertaker had said that about her old broom closet office. "Thanks," she said, closing the door behind her and locking it.
Angela raised an eyebrow at her. "You're not gonna kill me are you?"
She laughed and shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. I just don't want...interruptions," she explained before heading towards the desk. She took a seat and gestured to the papers in front of her. "I got JT's police report and death certificate."
"No shit," she commented, moving to stand next to Tara. Placing a hand on the edge of the desk, she braced herself with it as she looked down at the papers.
"I get most of it. There's just some lingo that I don't understand," Tara said, pointing out a few acronyms. "I would've looked online, but the hospital monitors its internet usage."
"And the club won't hesitate to check your history either," Angela said, nodding in understanding. "Even with Juice inside."
Tara nodded. "Can never be too careful."
She looked it over, her finger dragging over the path the truck made, the path JT was going before looking over at the death certificate. "Looks pretty standard. Coroner's have five manners of death to put on a death certificate: homicide, suicide, accident, natural, and undetermined. They ruled JT's as an accident, obviously."
"Based on what exactly?"
"The coroner looks at the police report and the pathologist's autopsy report before making his final decision," she explained, gesturing to the reports. "What you're missing here is the autopsy report, which is public. You just gotta request it. Your request will go on record though."
"Yeah. Don't want Unser seeing that request. He'll go straight to Gemma," she muttered on a frown. "Can an autopsy reveal if it was an accident and not a homicide?"
Angela thought about it before shrugging. "Depends on how good the pathologist is. If they took into account how fast he was going and whether he was accelerating or not, what state his shoes were in, his helmet, all these little details."
"His shoes?"
"If he was trying to slow down to avoid the truck, the rubber on his shoes would be significantly altered. If he was accelerating to avoid it, you could see by the RPMs. If he'd already laid down his bike in front of the truck, you wouldn't find either."
Tara nodded, a little surprised by all her knowledge on the subject matter. She was an undertaker, not a forensic investigator. "Is it standard for you to know this stuff?"
"Don't worry about it," Angela said on a shrug. It wasn't standard, but she was always interested in stuff like that. Mostly because, if it came down to it, she liked to have simple ways to cover up any of Happy's kills. So far, she hadn't had to use her knowledge, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
"Okay," the doctor drawled out, looking back down at the papers. "How easy are these to manipulate?"
She thought about it a little as she looked at the police report. "If anything was altered, it was the police report and that's easy to do if you have someone working inside the department. In this case, the coroner would probably base his choice off of that."
"Huh," Tara said, her thoughts on Unser and how he'd been on the Sons payroll for some time now. Could he have had a hand in John Teller's death as well? He owned a trucking company...a knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed, sliding the papers into the file cabinet and closing it up.
"Tara?" Gemma's voice came through the door. "The door's locked."
"We good?" Angela whispered. Tara nodded quickly, locking up the drawer. Sucking in a deep breath, the undertaker opened the door. "Hey Gemma."
Gemma gave her a weird look. "Wasn't expecting to see you here, Ang," she commented holding Abel in her arms.
"Oh, I had a pick up, figured I'd say hi to Tara," Angela lied nonchalantly. She grinned as Abel reached for her and easily took the little boy in her arms. "Hi Abie baby!"
"And you locked the door?" Gemma asked, looking between the girls in silent question.
Tara shrugged a shoulder. "Door locks on its own most times. I put in a call to maintenance; they said they'll take a look at it."
"Right," Gemma said, unconvinced. "Elyda had to leave early, so I brought him over. That okay?"
"Sure. Yeah, of course," she answered a little too quickly. "Thanks for bringing him."
Gemma nodded. "Heard you two went to visit the boys a few weeks back."
Angela's smile widened as she nodded enthusiastically. "It was really, really nice to see him. I'm actually heading over there to visit him now."
The queen smiled at the young undertaker, recalling visiting JT the first time he went inside for a long stretch. She remembered the feel of butterflies in her stomach, how her heart raced when they brought him out. "You're still in that lovey-dovey honeymoon stage, aren'tcha Little Miss Undertaker? Enjoy it while it lasts...it'll fade."
Tara hid a smile as Angela made a face at Gemma's back; clearly, the undertaker didn't appreciate that comment. "I don't think it will with them," Tara commented, smiling at Angela. Both Angela and Juice were so young at heart, so carefree she doubted anything really heavy could ever touch them. A slight feeling of jealousy twisted at her stomach; she wished her relationship with Jax could be that easy.
"That's because they both act like goddamn five year olds," Gemma commented.
"I can hear you, you know," Angela said with a roll of her eyes.
The Queen turned and smiled at her. "Oh, I know, sweetheart."
Angela sighed as she set Abel down on the floor. "Glad that got cleared up. I got to go get the dead dude then go visit my boy," she stated standing up straight. "As a five year old would say, 'see ya later, alligator'."
Gemma smirked at the undertaker's back as she sauntered out. Though she'd been skeptical about the undertaker at first, Angela had yet to make a wrong move. The girl was smarter than she'd given her credit for originally, and it was clear as day that she loved Juice and only Juice. She looked over at Tara. "She grows on ya, don't she?"
Tara chuckled as she nodded. "That she does."
--------------
Juice glared at the guard as he announced visiting time was over for all prisoners. His time with Angela always felt like it was too short. He hated that. Across the room, he watched as some of other prisoners hugged their visitors goodbye and noticed that one Mayan in particular could not take his eyes off of Angela. He even went so far as blowing her a kiss. Juice quickly turned away from him to look at her, wondering if she'd noticed. Her shoulders were tensed, her gaze set on their hands, still laced together on top of the table. Clearly, she hadn't missed it. "It's fine," she said softly, her dark eyes meeting his. "Don't do anything stupid."
"It's not fine," he replied, squeezing her hand. "You know that guy?"
Angela shrugged a shoulder. "Not really. Zo prospected with Esai. Not really sure what he's in here for; probably something disgusting."
Juice ran a hand over his face, shaking his head slightly. He hated hearing her talk about her past with Esai. Hated that the Mayan had her first. He was thankful he'd never gotten the chance to meet Esai; he'd have kicked that Mayan's ass whether he was the President's son or not. "Shit, Angel."
She smiled a bit as she stood to move around the table so they could hug and kiss one last time. "Don't worry about him, Juice. I never talked to him, honest. Marcus and E...they kept him away from family gatherings and shit. He's shady as fuck. Just...don't mess. You're up for parole in a few months," she reminded him, tugging on the front of his denim shirt. "Do not fuck it up because some idiot is drooling over what he can never have. Okay?"
Juice barely heard what she said, he was too focused on her lips now. He always was towards the end of their time together. He waited hungrily every week for her visit, thinking about her lips and the way they tasted. She tugged harder at his shirt, a knowing smile on her face as she asked if he was listening to her. "Sorry, baby," he said, grinning at her. "I got it. Don't want to lose visiting privileges anyway. You're the best thing I get to look at all week."
"Goof." Angela rolled her eyes before pulling him in for the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist as hers slid around his neck, holding him tightly. Long kisses were not allowed, but they still tried each week. Some prison guards would let them get away with it. Angela tried her best to make friends with a few of them, so they turned a blind eye, others...not so much.
"Ortiz!" the prison guard shouted, effectively drawing them apart. Clearly, this prison guard wasn't one of her friends.
She touched his cheek softly, a frown on her face. "That's always way too short," she said under her breath.
Juice nodded in agreement as he let out a long sigh. "Yeah. See you next week?"
"I'll be here," she said, giving him a smile that made him want to kiss her again. He didn't, though. If the guard wasn't flexible about length of kisses, he probably wouldn't be flexible about how many kisses he got in, and he didn't want to lose visitation. "Be good, Juice."
"I'll try," he said, walking away from her backwards so he didn't miss one moment with her. She winked at him, turning around and heading towards her exit, her hips swaying more than they usually did when she walked. She was putting on a show for him, and he couldn't help but laugh. God, he loved that woman. He hadn't told her in so many words, but he did. He really did.
He was barely out in the yard for a minute when it started. "Yo! How'd a fake beaner like you get lil' Angie Ruiz? What she doin' whichu?" Zo called from across the yard.
Juice ignored him, trying to walk by the Mayan table to go to the basketball court where Happy and Tig were already playing some one on one. Zo didn't stop, though. "Man, the curves on that woman. Goddamn. Bet she's tight as hell, huh? Esai didn't like to share pero a guy can dream, no? Pretty little Angelita! She looks good now! Grew into that body! Always knew she would."
Hearing her name from his lips stopped Juice's trek. His hands balled into fists as he turned to the table. "How 'bout you show some respect?" he asked, trying his best not to get physical.
The guy stood from the table, stepping up into Juice's face, his lips curled in a sneer that showed off several platinum teeth. "Some respect?" he spat on a laugh. "Man, that little bitch ain't gonna stay whichu. She bounced on E soon as she got the chance! The minute I get out, I'ma look her up. Sweet little pussy like that deserves a real man. I'd turn her out."
That's when Juice's fist went crashing into the guy's face.
--------------
Happy caught the ball from Tig and looked over towards where Juice and some Mayan were standing toe to toe. The two were evenly matched by the look of it. And the fact the other Mayans weren't getting involved meant the little punk wasn't very high up in the prison gang's food chain. If something went down, it wouldn't be disastrous to the relationship the Sons had built with the other MC inside. Tig moved to stand beside him, his crystal blue eyes on their youngest brother. "That can't be good," he stated. "Should we help 'im out?"
"Not yet," Happy replied, his dark eyes watching the scene play out. Out of nowhere, Juice was hauling Zo against the nearest wall, his arm pressed to his throat. The guy pushed back and pretty soon they were going at each other on the ground. The other guy pinned underneath him as Juice wailed on him. "Now."
Both he and Tig ran over, grabbing Juice around the waist and hauling him off. Juice fought to get back, blood pouring out of his nose. "Easy there, Cujo," Tig said, pushing him back. "The hell is going on?"
"He was talkin' shit about Angel!" Juice shouted, lunging to get back.
"Fuck that bitch, dude! You think a gash like that'll be around when you get home? Nah, she's probably sleepin' with everyone in town!" Zo shouted back, spitting out blood as he got to his feet. "Dumb puta."
That's when Happy threw a punch. One good hard hit that sent the Mayan punk to the ground, knocking him out. His buddies picked him up and set him on his feet, the head Mayan, Benny, nodded to Hap. "That deserved?"
Happy nodded. "Angela's my kid," he stated. By the look on Benny's face, he understood what that meant. Benny and Marcus Alvarez were brothers. He had no doubt in his mind that Benny knew exactly who Angela was.
Benny nodded, extending his hand to offer Happy a handshake. "My apologies. Won't happen again."
Happy shook his hand and turned to Juice, a proud look on his face. "What happened?"
Juice wiped at his face, spitting out the blood in his mouth as he glared at the guy over his shoulder. "He was eyein' her durin' visitation. Started disrespectin' her. Talkin' about doin' shit to her."
"You gotta calm down. Ain't gonna do you any good to get into shit while in here. Get you more time," Happy stated, noticing the irony of his statement considering he'd just decked the guy.
He shook his head slowly, clearly still mad. "No. That's not right. That's...that's my girl he was talkin' about!"
" 'n' that's all he was doin'. They'll take care of 'im," he said, his eyes dark with promise. "Last time I went inside, the kid was turnin' sixteen. Want to know all the shit they said about her? Remember, fuckin' with them means more time away from her. Right?"
Juice let out a long breath and nodded. "Yeah."
"You did good. Proud of ya," Happy said clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't do it again."
--------------
Miles watched Angela as she leaned over the bar talking to Phil. The rest of the boys had already gone off with the Croweaters of their choice, but since he was the newest patched member, he'd been left with the bottom of the barrel. A bunch of strung out woman with more silicone than brains. Yet there at the bar stood a beautiful, smart woman. He'd gotten hard the first time he saw Angela walk into the garage in her confident gait, dressed in some kind of suit that managed to hug every curve perfectly, her long dark hair shining in the sun. Juice had been working on his bike at the end of the workday, and she'd just come up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, her hand dipping into the front of his pants. Juice had spun her around and practically attacked her, lifting her up to let her wrap those long legs of hers around his hips. If the sound of motorcycles hadn't interrupted them, Miles was pretty sure they would've wound up fucking right there in the garage, unaware he was watching.
He'd been a lowly prospect then, and she was off limits. He knew better than to even try before he was fully patched. But now, not only had he earned his top rocker, but Juice was locked up which meant she was fair game. He was well aware of the prison clause. Had asked a few members from other charters about it countless times, careful not to ask his charter so as not to bring up suspicions. With Tara pregnant and Opie free, it would've been obvious who he was going after. The prison clause was his golden opportunity to get to Angela.
He walked over to them, nodding to Phil. "Get me a beer," he ordered the lowly prospect.
"Please," Angela put in, sharing a look with Phil.
"You want one, Ang? We got a case of Corona by accident. Got limes and everything," Phil offered, showing her the small Tupperware of limes.
"Yes, please," she replied, giving him a big grin.
Miles loved her big smiles, though they were usually reserved for Juice, Hap, or Kozik. Sometimes Phil would get one if she was tipsy enough like she was that night. He certainly had never received one. "How you holdin' up, Ang?" he asked, leaning against the bar next to her.
"Um...fine, thanks," Angela replied, the tone in her voice showing she thought his question was a little weird. "Same as last time you asked, Miles."
"Right, right," he said on a laugh. He nodded to Phil as he set down their beers, saying 'thank you' loud enough for Angela to hear. "Bet you miss Juice."
She took a long pull of her beer, not missing the way Miles' eyes were glued to her chest. "Mm-hm. I do. Lots."
"Can't be easy," he said, trailing the backs of his fingers on the bare skin of her arm. "All those lonely nights."
She pulled her arm away. Sure, she was tipsy, but not that tipsy. "That's the easy part," she said giving him a trite smile. "I'm not lonely. I just think of him, and I'm okay. I'm actually going to visit him again tomorrow."
"Ain't what I'm talkin' about," he said giving her a wicked smile. "You ever hear of the prison clause?"
Her eyes darkened in a way that was almost scary, her smile fading before she laughed. Really laughed, her eyes scanning the bar as if she was seeing if someone had heard him. She tipped her beer at him and pushed herself away from the bar. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. "C'mon babe," he said pulling her towards him. "Fourteen months is a long time as the clause makes it so you don't gotta be alone. I can take care a ya."
She wrenched her wrist out of his grasp. "No, thank you," she replied, doing her best to keep a smile on her face as she walked by.
"C'mon Angie." He reached out and grabbed a handful of her ass.
Kicking out her leg, she hooked her foot around his ankle and knocked him flat on his back on the floor. Quickly, she put her foot on his chest, holding him there. "I said no," she growled, her dark eyes glowing with anger. "Got it?"
Miles nodded quickly, looking around the room to see if anyone had caught what had just happened. Phil was still at the bar, watching Angela in awe as he dried off a glass. Luckily, none of the patched SAMCRO brothers were there to see it. At least, that's what he thought. "The hell?" Kozik's voice came from the hallway.
Angela took her foot off of Miles' chest, fighting the urge to spit on him; she didn't want to make a bigger scene than she already had. "Don't ask. You up for a pool game?" she asked Kozik as Miles scrambled to his feet, an embarrassed look on his face.
"Bitch," Miles muttered under his breath, glaring at her.
Kozik was on him in seconds, grabbing him up by the front of his cut. "What did you say?" he challenged, an eyebrow raised.
Angela rolled her eyes. "Leave it, Koz. Been called worse."
"Nah. That doesn't fly with me," he insisted with a shake of his head. He looked back at Miles, his usually light eyes dark with anger. "You think you can talk to her like that 'cause you got your top rocker now? I don't think so. That's my kid you're talkin' to. Apologize. Now."
"S-s-sorry, Angela," Miles stammered out.
Kozik let him go, pushing him back. "You ever talk to her like that 'n' I'll make sure her Old Man and her cousin find out about it, and Hap's not as nice as me," he threatened, his voice rough with promise. Miles nodded quickly, ducking his head down to head to back to one of the dorm rooms with his tail between his legs. Once he was gone, Koz turned back to Angela. "What was that about?"
Angela shrugged a shoulder, racking up the balls on the pool table. "Prison clause bullshit," she muttered, scowling a bit.
"With Miles? Really, kid?"
"No! Jesus! I can stay faithful for fourteen months! I'm not you!" she spat, regretting it the instant Kozik had his arm around her neck.
He pulled her into a headlock, digging his knuckles into her scalp as he gave her a noogie. "What're you tryin' to say, ya little shit?"
"You're a manwhore!" she replied, slapping at his arms. "Get off me!"
Kozik chuckled, letting her up before smacking a kiss to her temple. "Love you, Angie-pie," he told her, mussing her hair. "Don't take that kinda shit from him. You're better than that."
"I know, I know," she said with a roll of her eyes. She broke the rack before straightening up and looking at Kozik. "Thanks, though."
He scowled waving off her thanks as if it was no big deal. "I'm here for you, kiddo. Always."
--------------
Angela let out a long breath as she stared up at the prison entrance. The exchange she had with Miles was still bugging her. What gave him the right to touch her like that? Prison clause or not, that was no way to treat a woman. She definitely was not going to mention it to Juice. If he heard Miles had grabbed her ass and him and Hap teamed up, full patch or not, Miles was a dead man. With a sigh, she got out of the car and headed inside pleased to see one of her favorite guards at the security desk.
"Which boy are you here to see today?" the prison guard asked Angela as she walked through the metal detector. She gave him a big smile but before she could respond, he interrupted, "Oh I know now. That smile only comes out when its lover boy's turn."
She nodded enthusiastically, holding her arms out while he waved the metal detector wand over her. "You know it, Nate," she replied, unable to contain her smile. She was especially happy to see that Nate was on duty. They'd known each other before Juice had gone to prison since he used to work in the hospital wing and help her when she had to pick up a body. "How're the twins?"
"Growin' like weeds, the both of 'em," he replied with a proud smile. "Paul's gonna be a starting linebacker, Courtney thinks she'll make the all-star team for gymnastics. I'll show you pictures on the way over."
She walked alongside him, making conversation as he showed her picture after picture of his kids. Butterflies were stampeding through her stomach as they walked. Nate being on duty meant she and Juice could touch a little more, kiss a little longer especially since Juice himself had befriended Nate as much as their positions allowed. Nate showed her to a table tucked far in the corner, away from the eyes of the rest of the guards. "Here you go, Ang. I'm gonna go get your boy. You behave now," he told her with a wink.
"Scout's honor," she replied with a grin.
Nate smirked at that one. "Uh-huh, like you were a Girl Scout," he said, laughing as he walked away.
Angela snickered right along with him as she took a seat on one of the cold metal benches. She stared at the door she knew Juice would be walking through, her heart beating fast, leg shaking up and down with nerves. Then the buzzer rang, and she held her breath as Juice walked in. Her eyes widened when she took in his badly bruised face. "Holy shit, Juice!" she exclaimed when he was close enough, taking his face in her hands and turning it this way and that.
He dipped his head to catch her lips in a long, slow kiss, his arms sliding around her to hold her as close as possible, one hand moving down to get a good handful of her ass. She leaned into him, parting her lips just slightly so he could slide his tongue into her mouth. A throat cleared behind him, Nate's discreet signal that they were pushing it, so they pulled away, both a little breathless. "Sorry, couldn't wait," Juice said, giving her and impish grin.
She rolled her eyes at him as they sat down next to each other. This time when she reached out to touch his face, he didn't pull away. "You couldn't let it go, could you?" she asked, the smallest smile on her face.
He turned his head to quickly kiss her palm, inhaling the scent of the perfume that lingered on her wrist. "Gotta stand up for my girl."
She smirked at him, dropping her hand from his face to grab one of his hands, her thumb stroking over his bruised knuckles. "And how'd that work out for you?"
"You should see the other guy," he replied on a shrug.
"Goof," she said, laughing lightly. "Don't do that. He's not worth it, and I want you out as soon as possible. Zo's a skunk. Literally. That's what his name means. Zorrillo. Skunk."
Juice swallowed hard at the way she rolled the 'r's in the name. His girl speaking in Spanish never failed to turn him on. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind from all of the naughty memories that were currently rampaging through it. "Yeah, well, I take care of what's mine."
"Is that so?" she asked, a slow smile spreading across her face. That protective look in his eyes, the possessive tone in his voice had her feeling hot all over.
He could see the lust in her eyes as she looked him over, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He knew that look well, and it made all the blood in his body rush to one place. He groaned, squeezing her hands. "Baby, don't look at me like that."
A blush colored her cheeks as she looked away, trying hard to reign in her feelings. If it weren't for the prison guards watching them, she'd have jumped him right then and there. "Sorry. I just...its been awhile. I miss you."
"Miss you too, baby," he murmured softly. He looked over his shoulder quickly, making sure none of the guards were looking before sneaking in a quick peck to her lips. "You still got that...prison clause. Wouldn't blame you if you used it. I know...know a year's a long wait."
Angela laughed, shaking her head at him. "Do you know how tired I am about hearing about that dumbass clause?" she asked, incredulously. "Every day it's either Gemma baiting me about it or Miles reminding me of it."
"Miles?" Juice repeated, his eyebrows raised. "The fuck is Miles doing?"
She regretted mentioning it the moment she said it. "He is just...very aware of the prison clause. That's all."
Juice clenched his jaw as he tried to keep his anger at bay. He found anger came to him quicker now then it usually did. There was so much to be angry about while stuck inside prison walls. "He touch you?"
"No, of course not," she lied. She didn't want to get him any more riled up than he seemed to be. "He's just mentioned it a few times."
"Are you serious? Miles is pushing up on you?" he asked in utter disbelief.
Angela nodded, looking down at their entwined hands for a moment and sighing. "I think it might be Gemma's doing. Trying to test me," she explained softly. It wasn't a total lie. When Miles had first started dropping hints about the prison clause, she thought it was Gemma's doing for sure. After their last interaction, she wasn't so sure. "You have nothin' to worry about, Juice. I'm not interested in anyone else."
"I'm not worried, Angel. I just...hate that you have to go through that shit. I'll tell Ope to keep Miles in check 'til I'm out. Don't want him botherin' you anymore."
"It's all right. I don't think he's going to bothering me again for awhile," she said, a mischievous smile on her face as she thought of the way she'd laid him out the day before.
He raised an eyebrow, a smile already tugging at his lips. "What'd you do?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied simply. "I handled it."
Juice grinned at her proudly squeezing her hand and leaning forward to kiss her again just because he could. "How's the weed shop goin'? They still driving you crazy?"
She laughed, nodding her head before launching into her latest and greatest story. He listened to her as if he were hanging off of her every word, periodically squeezing her hand and leaning over to kiss her when he could. Her eyes met his after she finished her story, both of them falling quiet for a brief moment. There was a weird look in his eyes as he looked at her, his smile fading. "What?" she asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.
I love you, he almost blurted out, but he shrugged instead. "Nothin'," he said on a shrug. "Just thinkin' how lucky I am to have you."
"Goof," she said on a laugh. She brushed a hand over the scruff on his cheeks before her short nails dragged through the short stubble on the side of his head, a warm smile on her face. "You goin' hairy on me, dude?"
He smiled and shrugged a shoulder. "Tryin' to fly under the radar," he answered honestly. He'd told the guys it was just because he didn't have the right tools to make it look right, but it really was because he didn't want to stand out. Not to the other prisoners and definitely not to the guards. He just wanted to stay innocuous and do his time in peace so he could get back to his girl. "Tats make me stand out. Don't want to get in any more trouble than I have to."
She smiled a bit at that. "Good. I want you home."
Home. He closed his eyes at the idea of just being home with her, spending the rest of his life at home with her. "You have no idea how good that sounds, baby."
--------------
A few months later...
Kozik moved the boxing pads around, waiting each time for Angela to hit them. Since she had the day off, and things at TM were slow, he'd called her over so they could hang out. As usual, it ended up in a training session. After what happened with Salazar and with the boys being away, Kozik wanted to make sure she was in tip top condition should something happen again. "Harder, Ang! C'mon," he encouraged, grinning when she glared at him and punched just a little harder. " 'ey, you talk to any of the guys recently?"
Angela swung a hook at the pad, though her heart wasn't really in it. She loved Kozik to death, but he wasn't as good of a motivator as Happy was during training. Happy didn't do the little chit chat therapy session; he just yelled encouraging words and advice. The whole situation made her miss her cousin. "Yeah. I talked to Juice last night."
"Jab combo! Let's go!" he ordered, holding the pads up in the right position and meeting her punches. "How you holding up with him being gone?"
She scowled at him, getting in two quick jabs before brushing a hair away from her face with a gloved hand. "I really hate that question. I am perfectly capable of keeping myself together while he's away. I'm my own person who has my own life that's separate from his, and I am holding up just fine."
Kozik chuckled, shaking his head at Angela's little Ms. Independent speech. "Except for the whole not being able to sleep without him thing."
This time she moved on her own, aiming for his stomach. Koz knew it was coming and caught her punch with the pad before it could get to him; she always went for an actual hit when she was pissed. "Fuck you, Kozik," she murmured indignantly. "I sleep."
"Yeah, sure," he scoffed in response.
Angela swung for his face, but he easily blocked it. "Saw you patched in while the guys were in side. Smooth move, slick. Thought you told Tig you weren't going to do that."
" 'ey, I can't help it if SAMCRO needed more bodies," Kozik answered nonchalantly. He'd patched in months before, and she hadn't said anything about it. He knew she was only bringing it up to piss him off so they could talk about something else, and he wasn't about to let her get away with that. "Don't change the subject."
"Well look who it is," Chibs' thickly accented voice came from the doorway of the clubhouse. He climbed onto the side of the ring, just in time to distract Kozik so Angela actually landed a punch to his cheek.
"Oh shit!" she exclaimed, eyes wide as the blonde biker cursed at her. She never thought she'd actually hit him despite her attempts. "Sorry, Kozi!"
"Jesus, Ang! Really?" Kozik whined, blinking his eye as he tried to get it to stop tearing up.
"You usually block it!" she justified, trying her best to keep a straight face.
The Scottish man was laughing heartily at Kozik's expense. "She gotcha good there! Girl's got a nasty hook!"
Kozik glared at her with his good eye. "Don't you fuckin' laugh, Ang."
But she couldn't help herself. As soon as the first laugh left her mouth, Kozik had her in a tight headlock against his side. She struggled against him, trying to get him off of her. "Ow, ow! I'm sorry! Jeez!"
"Aw, c'mon, Koz. I bet yeh deserved it," Chibs put in. "Ope needs a word with yeh anyways."
Kozik let her go, ruffling her hair lightly as he pushed her away and effortlessly climbed out of the ring. "See ya later, kid," he called over his shoulder.
"Koz! You forgot to help me out of these damn gloves!" she shouted at his back, scowling when she heard the door slam loudly behind him. "Asshole," she muttered looking down at the beat up old gloves. If they hadn't been on loan from the club, she would've used her teeth to untie them but seeing as they weren't hers and she didn't know whose mouth had been on them last, she wasn't about to risk catching something from the boxing glove's ties.
Chibs chuckled as he tucked under the ropes. "Give 'em here, love." With a sigh, she put one glove in his outstretched hand. He got to work untying the gloves. "Didn't know you boxed."
"Only to entertain Kozik," she said on a laugh. "It's part of my self-defense 'training' because the first thing I think of when I get in a fight is if my feet are in the right position."
"I don't think that's what Koz cares about," he commented with a small smile. "The man cares that yeh can hit, and yeh can by the looks of it. Juicy boy better watch out if he ever thinks of layin' a hand on yeh."
Angela rolled her eyes. She knew that would never happen. Juice was no woman beater. "I'd be the least of his worries, trust me."
He chuckled in response, knowing that if the idiot ever hurt her he'd have Happy and Kozik to answer to. "I'd have to agree with yeh on that one," he said, watching as she picked up her jewelry from the ground. As she slipped on the rings, one in particular caught his eye. "Quite some bling yeh got there," he said, catching her wrist in his hands.
She laughed as she nodded. It had been a ring kind of day, and she was currently sporting a ring from each of her boys on the fingers of her right hand: a simple ring with the Harley Davidson logo outline that Kozik had given her on her pointer, the skull with wings from Happy on her middle, and Juice's claddagh ring on her ring finger. "Oh yeah. I usually only wear the two, but Koz was whinin' that I never wear the one he gave me so..."
Chibs nodded as he studied the Claddagh ring. "Who gave yeh that one?"
"Juice. He said your daughter's friend helped him get when you guys were in Belfast."
A look of surprise passed over the Scot's face as he let go of her hand. He wondered if Juice understood the meaning behind the ring when he gave it to her. Besides being a blatant claim on the wearer if it was worn right, each of the little symbols on that ring meant something different. "He tell yeh what that whole design means?"
"Nah. He couldn't even pronounce it," she admitted on a small smile.
He smiled at her, a faraway look in his eyes as if he was reliving a memory. "Gave one of those to my Old Lady a long time ago," he said, leaning back against the ropes. "Hands mean friendship, crown means loyalty, and the heart means love. But somethin' tells me you two haven't said those wee lil' words to each other yet?"
Angela shook her head. "Nope."
"Why not?"
"Dunno," she answered on a shrug. "Just haven't."
He studied her face for a brief moment. "It's there, yeh know. We can all see it. Hell, a blind man could see it. What's the hold up?"
She shrugged again. "He went to Belfast, I got kidnapped, he went inside. We got shit timing."
Chibs went to say something else when Kozik came bursting out of the clubhouse. "Let's go, Ang! Doc's poppin' out the kid!"
Angela ran to keep up with Kozik's long strides as they headed towards the waiting room in St. Thomas. She glanced around the waiting room at all the SAMCRO members who looked very uncomfortable. "Hey guys," she greeted, taking a seat between Piney and Kozik.
"Hey sweetheart," Piney replied, nodding to her.
"How long have you all been here?"
"Went into labor a few hours ago," Opie answered curtly. "Gemma's with her."
Angela grimaced. "Poor Tara," she muttered before she could help herself earning a few chuckles from the men around her. Her eyes followed Chucky as he paced back and forth. She'd seen him at the cemetery on more than one occasion, always visiting the oldest, loneliest headstones and laying flowers before them. He was kind of sweet in his own, odd way.
Tara screams from down the hall were audible, only succeeding to make Chucky pace faster. Chibs threw an opened can of soda at him. "Stop it!" he shouted in frustration. Kozik laughed as Chucky scuttled out of the room to find another corridor to pace.
"Holy crap," Angela cursed, wincing at the awful sound.
Kozik chuckled, slapping his hand on her thigh. "Don't have kids, kiddo. Hap'll kill someone if he hears you screamin' like that."
She rolled her eyes at him, pushing herself up into a standing position. "I'm gonna go get some coffee. Anyone want any?"
As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she was spotted Lyla with Abel in her arms. "Gee! Gee!" Abel exclaimed, stretching his arms out to Angela.
"I was wonderin' where big brother was," Angela said easily taking Abel from Lyla's arms. "How's it goin', Ly?"
Lyla smiled at her and shrugged a shoulder. "Good. Got Gemma on my ass about planning the wedding. I swear she shoots down every choice I make!"
"Like what?"
"I want to have a few bridesmaids, but she said I should just have one because if I have a few bridesmaids, Ope has to have a few groomsmen and that gets complicated with the club," she explained, looking frustrated. "I want to have Tara and you and maybe one of the other girls from the studio..."
Angela smiled, touched that Lyla would want her in the wedding. "Don't worry about me, Ly. I'm totally fine watching from the sidelines. I don't need to be a bridesmaid."
"Yeah? You won't be offended if I just have Tara?"
She shook her head slowly. "Not at all. Honestly," she assured the blonde with a wide smile. Another one of Tara's screams came from down the hall. "Is she supposed to sound like that?"
Lyla nodded, frowning slightly. "Having a kid hurt likes a bitch."
"No kidding."
They saw a nurse walk out of Tara's room towards the waiting room and headed that way. The nurse let them into the room before announcing, "It's a boy!"
The room erupted into shouts of joy and laughter as Opie handed out cigars to all the men; he'd even thought ahead to get Abel a chocolate cigar from See's. Angela watched the men slap each other on the back and comment on the whole affair from her place at the doorway with Abel perched on her hip. The little boy was contently eating the chocolate cigar, his fingers, lips, and cheeks covered in chocolate.
"Where daddy?" Abel asked, his gaze going from all of his pseudo-uncles up to Angela.
She gave him a small smile; the boy had to be confused. All of his uncles were here celebrating his new brother while his own dad was nowhere to be found. "Daddy's gonna come home really soon, Abie. Don't you worry about it. He wants to meet your new brother too."
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Gemma standing there. "Wanted to make sure Abel got in before they do," she said pulling her into the hallway. She looked over her grandson, briefly debating on whether to take him from Angela's arms or not. The undertaker already had two chocolate handprints on her white tank top. "How 'bout you bring him?"
"Chocolate doesn't go with your outfit, does it?" Angela asked teasingly.
Gemma smirked and shook her head. "Not this one, sweetheart."
With a laugh, Angela followed Gemma down the hallway and into the room where the doctors had just finished cleaning up after the procedure. As soon as he saw his mother, Abel squirmed in Angela's arms, reaching out for her. Tara smiled back at him. "Abel, meet your new brother, Thomas."
Angela managed to pry the rest of the now slobbery chocolate cigar from the boy's hands while Gemma cleaned each off gently with a wipey before taking the little boy into her arms. "Now you gotta be real careful with him, Abel. He's fragile," Gemma whispered to him as she set him on the bed next to Tara.
With a small wave to Tara, Angela excused herself from the room. This was a moment better left to family, and she didn't want to intrude. She found Chucky in the hallway and smiled at him; he was still pacing. "It's a boy, Chucky," she told him, just in case he didn't know.
"Is he okay?" Chucky asked with a wide eyed stare. "I mean, all that screamin'...sounds like somethin' went wrong."
Angela smiled and nodded. "Nah, he's fine. Got all ten fingers and toes."
"Lucky kid," Chucky said, wiggling his remaining two fingers. "You got handprints on your shirt, ya know."
She looked down to find one small chocolate handprint just over her breast and grimaced. "Awesome."
"It's kind of hot, actually. In a weird way. I mean..." he stammered out, fumbling for the right explanation.
Angela raised an eyebrow at him. "Just stop. You don't have to explain yourself to me, Chucky. I really would rather not hear it."
He grinned at her and nodded, "I accept that."