Delivering His Heir by Jesse Jordan (36)

Andrea

It feels weird, looking around the apartment. So many of the things inside are still here. The plates, the silverware, the couch, even the television are all just sitting like I'm stepping out for a long weekend trip to Catalina or going out to Vegas or something, not leaving forever.

Joey comes out of the bedroom, a large military style duffel over his shoulder. When he showed up this morning, he had two of them in the back of his Buick, insisting that I pack them up. “There's no reason you should let Darren get a single thing from you that you can use. Besides, I happen to think you're hot as hell in everything I've seen. I'd like to see some more of it, too.”

I'll probably have to dry clean all the stuff I shoved in the bags to get out the wrinkles, but it feels good, and I'm touched when I see the faded marker on the side. Rivera, T L it says, and I realize that this bag belonged to Joey's father, carefully kept and taken care of for I don't know how many years. The marker's visible now on the side of the bag over Joey's shoulder, and he comes over, putting and arm around my shoulders. “You okay?”

I nod, giving him a squeeze. “Yeah. Just feels strange, walking out like this. And I'll admit, I'm a little scared. For most of my life, roughing it meant going to only a three-star hotel.”

“I can understand that. When Papa died and we moved to Los Angeles, I was scared too. I think it's normal to be scared when we're looking toward a future that we're not too certain what's going to happen,” Joey says softly. He squeezes my shoulder, and I turn to him, kissing him again. I've lost count of the number of kisses we've shared over the past three and a half hours, but each one is special, each one thrilling and reassuring. “To be honest, I'm a little scared right now.”

“Bravery is going on even when you're scared,” I paraphrase, giving him a quick kiss. “And with you Joey, I feel very brave.”

“Good, because we've still got three hours to kill off,” Joey says with a chuckle. “Don't ask me what or why, Ian made me promise this morning while I was eating breakfast, and he didn't give me any details. He said if we come home before three in the afternoon, he's going to beat my ass. So, I figure he's got some sort of party arranged or something. But I made him a promise, so how about we go find a movie or just go hang out on the beach again?”

I nod, my mood lifting. Still, it's weird looking at my keyring, the keys all serving as reminders of the ways my father paid for my lifestyle and just leave it on the counter, closing the door behind me. The angry, juvenile part of me wants to just leave the door open or to wreck things. I bet the flat panel LCD TV would make one hell of a crash when it hits the parking lot. I remind myself though, that's what Chad would do, and I'm not Chad.

We end up going to the beach, but with it being November now, it's getting too cold to really enjoy, although it does make the sand more or less abandoned. “So, what did Angel do for Halloween?”

Joey laughs, pulling out his phone to show me. Angel, in a total homage to his uncle, went as a rock guitarist, right down to the lipstick and eyeliner. He even had a little guitar, maybe foam and plastic, I'm not sure. “Wow. He's the coolest looking four-year-old trick or treater in existence. Don't tell me you wore stage gear too?”

Joey shakes his head and swipes left, pulling up a photo of him with the other guys from the band dressed up as horror characters. Joey's dressed as Michael Meyers, Rocky's got a good Pinhead look going, while the giant Jason Voorhies in the back must be Ian. “Jesus, I haven't met him yet, but he's huge. If Ian wants to stop being a rock drummer, I think he'd have a good future just as a horror character. You know, he's tall enough to play Darth Vader for the next Star Wars flick.”

“Ian's going to like you saying that, he loves those movies. We decided to take Angel and everyone to a neighborhood party up in Simi where Rocky lives. In return, we're going to be pulling off one amazing Christmas spread,” Joey says, putting his phone back in his pocket and taking my hand again. “Angel had a blast, too. It was good.”

“What about Thanksgiving?” I ask. “I've always loved that.”

Joey grins and kisses my hand as we start walking again. “Plan is for Rocky and Cora to get married then. That'll give them the marriage, a week for the honeymoon, then all the rest of December to chill out, do some practicing before we start up the tour on January tenth in Atlanta.”

“A Thanksgiving wedding. Sounds interesting, any guesses as to what the banquet's going to be?” I joke, and Joey laughs. “Or are you cooking for the whole thing?”

“No way, beautiful. They're not going overboard, but with my family, Ian and his family, and of course Rocky's parents, Cora's parents, and I think they invited some of their high school friends too, and a few folks from the record company. Maybe fifty people total. Well, fifty-one now. That is if you'll be my date for the wedding?”

I squeeze Joey's waist again, giggling. “Of course. It gives me a chance to catch the bouquet, right?”

Joey laughs but doesn't object to the implied meaning, and we keep walking, turning back when we get close enough to see the Venice Beach pier. There's a lot to do there, enough to take up three hours by itself, but I'm feeling too excited, I want to see what's being planned. I can see it in Joey's body language as well as we drive into Thousand Oaks. I don't feel weird at all as Joey pulls off the freeway and makes the turns towards his house, and once again I'm overcome with just a sense of fate moving me where it wants to.

That is, I feel calm until we pull up in front of Joey's house, and we see two trucks parked out front, one of them festooned with all the stuff that, along with the sign, tells us it belongs to a general contractor. “What the... Joey, what's this?”

“I don't know. Come on, let's find out,” Joey says softly with confusion in his voice, parking street side behind an SUV. We go around the trucks, both of us stopping short when we see what's going on. The door's open, but the inside of the place looks like anything but a garage. Four men are working intently, two of them putting up insulation while another two work on nailing wallboard over the studs. Another worker is running wire it looks like to an overhead ceiling fan, and I can see near the wall cases of track lighting ready to go too. “Guys?”

The two men working on the wallboard turn around, and I immediately recognize Rocky Blake and Ian Ivory, I probably should have picked Ian out just from his height. He is huge, his tousled mop top bringing him down from scary to just intimidating until he smiles, and he just looks like a huge, nice guy. Rocky, on the other hand, comes over, grinning his famous grin, looking us over. “Well, well, we'd hoped to get this done before you guys got here. Hi, Rocky Blake.”

Rocky offers his hand and we shake while Joey goes up to Ian, staring up into his friend's eyes for a moment before the two embrace, trading thunderous slaps on the back as Joey realizes what Ian's surprise was. Rocky watches for a moment before leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I was a little surprised too, but that's how Ian operates. We'd have probably have been done with the modifications, except the contractors showed up late. Then again, what do you expect when Ian just called them last night?”

“Why?” I ask, half amazed. “You guys... you're...”

“We're brothers,” Rocky says softly, giving me another one of his trademarked smiles. “And Joey likes you, a lot. So, if our brother needs help, we help him. Besides, he doesn't ask that often, he helps us at least three times as often as we help him.”

“Thank you,” I answer thickly, surprised when Rocky puts an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. He's not taking advantage, he's not trying to hit on me, he's just saying... welcome to the family. It feels good, and I feel close to being moved to tears when he lets go. “Uh, where's everyone else?”

“Oh, don't think that they're being lazy. Maria, Bella, and Angel are out shopping for a bed and that sort of stuff while Teresa and Cora are packing up Joey's stuff to move out here. If we can get a move on, we'll have his new temporary room all laid out by the time dinner's ready. We're doing the traditional Fragments moving meal,” Rocky says, raising his voice a little. “Right, Ian?”

“Damn right. Triple meat medley pizzas with extra bacon!” the huge man calls back, coming over. He looks me in the eye, stern at first, to the point that I'm starting to get nervous before he grins broadly, nodding. “Yeah. You'll do just fine for Joey. Come on, Rock, we've got work to do.”

Ian turns, but not before giving me another smile. Rocky chuckles and points to the house. “Go on, let Ian, Joey and me do the whole grunt work thing. We can divvy up the pizza later. Besides if you hurry, you might find Joey's old stash of Playboys.”

“Rocky!” Joey yells, horrified, but I can't help it, I laugh as I run towards the front door, leaving Joey torn between helping his friends and trying to figure out if Rocky's set a trap for him. Just as I go inside, I hear Joey turn back to the work in the garage, yelling. “Rocky, if you...”

I find Cora and Teresa in one of the bedrooms, clearly Joey's by the looks of the stuff in the closet. Teresa looks up as she takes clothes out of the dresser, smiling when she sees me. “Welcome, Andrea.”

Cora's just as beautiful as the pictures I've seen of her, and I'm surprised when she comes over and hugs me, actually picking me up off the ground an inch or two. She's strong for a pregnant woman, even in her petite body. “So, you're the one, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

Cora, whose hair is pulled back in high twin strawberry blond ponytails, grins as she sets me down. “You'll find out for yourself when the time comes. Come on, we've still got a long afternoon in front of us, the boys still need to wrap up before we put together the bed. Whenever it gets here.”

It's midnight before Rocky scoops up his daughter and everyone leaves, the work finally complete. We'd finished by toasting the whole thing with tall bottles of beer, Cora skipping since she's driving as well as pregnant, and Ian's going to stay overnight with them at their home. Maria and Teresa go to their bedrooms soon afterward, and I sit with Joey in his new 'apartment,' the walls still bare and the creases still clear in the brand new king sized sheets. “Where did she find this, anyway?”

“Knowing Maria, she probably went nuts over at Bed, Bath & Beyond. She loves that place, seriously. One of my biggest joys was the first time I got a good-sized royalty check and I took her and Angel over there to let Maria pick out a brand new bathroom set. I don't know if I'd have gone with the brown headboard though, I like black, but it's okay. Maria's happy, so I'm happy.”

“You've made me happy too,” I reply, sitting down next to him on the bed. “Joey, this is amazing. And I promise I'll pay you back for every cent of what you guys put out for this rush job somehow. Even if it takes years.”

Joey shakes his head, taking my face in his hands and stroking his thumbs over my cheekbones. “You'll do no such thing, Andrea. This was a gift. First from Ian, then from me. And you're going to keep accepting these gifts, no return or repayment or obligation required. I'm not your father, there are no strings attached in this offer. You are welcome to stay here as long as you want, my room is now your room. Not borrowed, not lent. It's yours.”

I blink, tears in my eyes, and I nod before yawning, exhausted by an afternoon and evening of hard labor. “Joey, thank you. Can I be honest?”

“You can say whatever you want to me, isn't that what being boyfriend and girlfriend is all about? I'll be honest first though, I was worried there for a few days that you didn't want that anymore.”

“I do, more than anything. And right now, what I want is to kiss you and see if this bed is as good for making love as it looks like to me. But I'm not sure if I can stay awake that long, and it'd feel weird to me to wake up tomorrow knowing that your mother might walk in on us.”

“We'll figure it out,” Joey says with a small chuckle. “Because I want to make love with you, too. But you're right, we'd fall asleep afterward, and I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with Mama walking in on us, either. For now, though, good night, Andrea. Buenas noches.”

“Good night, Joey. Buenas noches.”

His words help me fall asleep, but honestly, I think the main reason I can rest so quickly and so easily is that Teresa, probably in a case of forgetfulness but maybe not, didn't change the sheets on Joey's old bed. His pillow, the blankets, they all smell just like him, and I close my eyes enveloped in the warm glow of his essence, and the warm embrace of his blanket.

I do think I'm going to get rid of the rock poster on the wall.

* * *

I wake up to a nearly silent house. Other than the hum of the fridge in the kitchen I can't hear anything, but I feel comfortable, stretching languidly before I roll out of bed and head down the hall to the kitchen area. On the fridge, I find a note written in feminine script, the words touching me.

It's cute, it's innocent, and at the same time, it moves me to happy tears. I open the fridge to see exactly what Maria promised, a Tupperware with what look like two burritos inside. I close the door and think about what I want to do. I have freedom, I have a warm place to sleep and a family that is already willing to accept me with open arms. Ironically, I've never had less stress on me, but inside I feel a fire. I want to contribute, to give to these people as much as they've given to me.

It's not the money. It’s about the feeling, the effort that everyone just gave. As if I'd asked for them to lend me a pen, not their lives and their house. Ian never said much last night, but he worked tirelessly, outworking the contractors, not missing a single beat. Rocky was the leader, coordinating the guys and making sure that they worked well together, while Joey was moving all the time, providing the little touches that made sure everything went well. It was Joey who made sure that the switch cover plate was in place for the lights, and he was the one who double checked that the garage door was down and locked securely. It's a great setup. When Joey wants, they can lift the garage door still, but when it's down you can't really tell the difference from inside compared to the other walls.

No, I have to give to them as much as they gave to me. I just need to figure out how to do it, because right now I'm not sure how I'm going to even heat up lunch, I don't see a microwave anywhere.

Sighing, I go into the living room, I'll figure out lunch later. I glance at the TV, but I've spent too much time over the past ten days watching daytime crap shows, especially after I turned in my resignation. There wasn't much else to do in the hotel room after all. Instead, I leave the living room and go back to the bedroom, fetching my laptop. I connect to the home Wi-Fi to access my personal e-mail and I'm pleasantly surprised when I see I've got a short, to the point e-mail from Harry Bethlehem. Gimme a call. H.

Why not? Harry was always a good guy, and if he's asked me to give him a call, I'll give him a call. I dial his number, kicking back on the comfortable couch while the phone rings.

“Hello?” Harry says when he picks up, probably not recognizing the number. “Harry Bethlehem.”

“How's the baddest urban reporter from the mean streets of Utah doing?” I ask, feeling better just hearing his voice. “It's your favorite newbie.”

“Hey 'Dre!” Harry says, laughing. “Wow, I'd thought maybe you'd dropped off the face of the planet. You didn't pick up your phone for three days, and I wasn't sure if you were going to answer that e-mail or not. How're you doing, girl?”

“Much better than I was just two days ago, Harry. How're things around the office?”

Harry sighs, his mood darkening. “Honestly? Be glad you called me when I'm out of the office on a story. Right now, even mentioning the name Andrea Coates anywhere in the building is likely to get you crucified.”

I sigh and shake my head. “Is my father that angry about things? Harry, I did what I had to do.”

“I know, the rumor mill filled me in on some of the details I missed on what his 'proposal' was. You know, you could have fought it, legally. But I guess I know why you didn't. So, what're you doing now?”

“Now? I'm staying with a friend and trying to get on my feet. I don't suppose that sending my resume out to the LA Times is going to be any help at all, is it?”

“No chance in hell, not from what I've heard. Darren isn't just muddying the water, he's trying to burn your rep to the ground and piss on the ashes from what some of my friends in other places are telling me. Right now, the word on the street is that if any other media group even talks to you, Coates Media goes on a total war footing. I mean, editorials, scandals, investigative journalists, all of it leveled at whoever talks with you.”

“Then why are you talking with me?” I ask. “Harry, I don't want you getting in trouble.”

“'Dre, like I said I'm out of the office. Right now, I'm supposed to be headed to Long Beach to talk with some urban artist. I'm in my car, hands-free, stuck in traffic. Ain't nobody going to listen to me right now.”

“Honestly? Well, what do you think I should do? I mean, my friends are being really generous, but still, I can't just mooch off them forever. I don't want or need a sugar daddy.”

Harry chuckles, and I can hear him smirking. “Sugar daddy, huh? I bet this sugar daddy speaks Spanish and plays one mean-ass rock guitar, but I won't push there any further. Honestly, if you want my opinion 'Dre, what you should do is look non-traditional.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, curious. “Indie media?”

“Try social media, girl. Look, let me lay it out for you. You're pretty. You've got a name, a writing style, and the smarts to get lots of followers quick. So, start yourself a blog, a Facebook page, and an Instagram. You've got plenty of personal connections out there. Artists that your pops ignored, or celebs who want to get their real story out there. So why not work that angle? People want to know the inside scoop on celebs. Get some yoga pants gym selfies with all the people you know, and monetize, monetize, monetize.”

I think about it, nodding. It's a good idea, and I do have some people I can start talking to. Well, maybe not the yoga pants gym selfies, but the rest of it's dead on. “That's a great idea. Thanks, Harry.”

“No problem, 'Dre. Listen, I'm not going to be able to talk all the time, but let me talk to the people I know. There's a lot of people in entertainment who want that sort of underground exposure, who don't have the backing of the media groups. Let me see what I can dig up, and I'll call you or e-mail you leads.”

I swallow, touched. “Harry, thank you. Seriously, you're the best. Better than this town deserves. Watch yourself though, after some of the stuff my dad said. I'm sorry I didn't realize how flat out racist he is.”

“Maybe, but this town and your father pay money, and Utah don't. As for my skin, we can talk about it another time, when times are easier and hard discussions not so hard. Hang loose, work on some blog site design, and I'll be in touch in a few days.”

After we hang up, I think about Harry's idea. It's a good one, I can keep a bigger percentage of what my work generates, even if I have a smaller market. It's worth a look

, and I spend hours researching, so into it I don’t even notice the time pass until the front door opens.

“Hey beautiful, how's the day been?” Joey asks, coming in and giving me a kiss. His lips and body are warm, even warmer than the light sweatshirt he's wearing should make him, and I feel myself respond, pulling him tighter. “Mmmm, a good day then.”

I nod, biting his lip and tugging him towards the garage bedroom. I've never been this forward before, this willing to drop everything in the middle of the day and jump into bed, but Joey's not like any man in the world. “Joey... I want to tell you about my day, but first, I need you.”

The garage is perfect, quiet and huge, much larger than even my old bedroom, and the bed is massive. Joey picks me up easily and almost casually tosses me onto the soft, springy surface, making me squeal in delight as I go tumbling. I pull off my shirt, grinning as Joey gawks at my naked upper body. There are advantages to not wearing a bra, it seems.

“I need you too,” Joey rasps, pulling his sweatshirt off. He's gained a little bit of weight, but it's all muscle, his chest more defined, his tattoos standing out on his arms. “You have no idea what I was doing in this bed last night just to get some sleep, knowing you were just down the hall.”

“Instead of telling me, how about you show me instead?” I purr, sliding my shorts and panties off. “Or maybe you can just do what you wanted to do, instead?”

Joey nods, his smile growing as he pushes his pants off, his cock bobbing into view. “Last time, you started me with your mouth. I think a good lover should return the favor.”

I'm squirming, even the idea of Joey going down on me making me wet as he takes my knees and spreads them, lifting my legs up higher and higher until I'm nearly folded in half, my pussy open and exposed to him, my toes pressed against the headboard as Joey looks me in the eyes. “Do you want this?”

There's no question there, just a light bit of teasing, and a quiet, powerful demand for my obedience, for recognition of his strength and his masculinity. I nod, not smiling, shivering in anticipation. “Yes, sir. I want you, everything you have.”

Joey smiles, his dark eyes burning with emotion as he reaches out with his tongue, tracing it along the outer lips of my pussy and making me moan in warm heat. Oh God, it feels good, and my hands are already tugging on the bedspread, balling it up as he licks me again, his tongue slightly closer to parting my folds. Still, he takes his time, watching my every movement as he teases me, driving me insane with frustration and pleasure as he licks everywhere but inside my pussy or my clit. When his breath tickles my asshole, I clench, then relax, nodding. A deep hunger in me wants it, but I'm not sure I'm ready. But this is Joey. “Joey... if you want, it's yours too.”

“Another time, my beauty. For now, though...” Joey whispers before his long tongue finally slips between my pussy lips, my breath catching before it explodes in a long, deep groan of pleasure. It's amazing, waves of pleasure rolling one after another from my pussy to my chest and brain, and I can't tear my eyes away as I watch Joey lick my pussy. The feelings are doubled as my eyes drink in every caress, every lick, and I watch as his face starts to glisten with my juices, his lips shiny and slick with my desire.

“Joe, oh yes, oh please yes...” I whisper, running my fingers through his hair and grinding my pussy lightly against him. Joey growls and licks higher, circling my clit for a few seconds before he lowers his lips and literally starts sucking my clit. White sparks of pleasure overwhelm my eyes, I can barely see at all as he sucks and nibbles, my sensitive bud lovingly assaulted by his lips and tongue. I buck, my stomach tightening into a ball before my orgasm fills me with light, pure amazing light. I'm calling out his name, wanting to say more, wanting to say how I really feel about him, but I can't because at least for the moment my brain is overloaded.

I feel myself being stretched out, and Joey bringing himself up next to me, caressing my body as he does, his hands gentle on my skin. “Are you okay?”

I laugh lightly, turning to kiss his lips which are still shiny with my juices, tangy and fragrant with my own flavor. “Mmmm, you are amazing at that. And I taste good, although I think you taste better.”

Joey hums happily and our kiss deepens, our tongues caressing each other as I reach down and take him in my hand, stroking his cock slowly, keeping him hard while I rest and recover. He's wonderful, patient and strong, nibbling on my ear and licking at my earlobe until my body is ready for more, my nipples aching from his fingers stroking me teasingly. I pull back, stroking his face with desire. “How do you want me?”

“On the edge of the bed,” Joey says, pulling me to the edge and turning me over. He's able to slide off, his feet touching down on the carpet we hastily laid down last night and his hands taking my waist between them. “Hard or slow?”

“Hard, my love,” I whisper, the words out before I even know that I've said them. Joey pauses, and I look back, worried, but he smiles, blinking as the word hangs in the air. He doesn't reply, but instead lines his cock up with my sopping wet pussy, filling me with one long, hard stroke that jolts me all the way up my spine to my brain, which rings with ecstasy. Pulling back, he pauses at my entrance for a second before he thrusts again, and I suddenly realize he's not wearing a condom. I don't care, it feels so good, and I'm on the pill anyway. I trust him in the health area anyway, and it feels good, so good and right to just give myself to him, to be taken by his powerful hips as his cock drives into me again and again, unrelenting but not unforgiving, just right instead. Joey's always been a tender, considerate lover, but I asked him for hard, and he's giving it to me hard and fast, and I love it. “Yes, yes, harder! Oh Joey, fuck me harder!”

“Yeah, you want it hard?” he growls, tugging on my hair as his hips slam into my ass, my back arching as he fucks me deep. It's amazing, he's hammering my pussy without mercy now, but he's not tiring at all. Never has any lover been able to pound me like this, his cock splitting me open each and every time, my pussy on fire from the heat with his thick, heavy shaft demanding I give in to him. I squeeze him, his balls slapping into my clit and causing me to cry out each time, pushing back into him not because I want more, but now because I want to please him as much as he's pleasing me.

The energy builds between us until I swear I can hear it crackling in the air each time he smashes into me, purple white arcs of static electricity building between us. Joey's not tiring, but I can hear him panting too, sexy grunts as he gives me everything I've ever wanted in a man and more. I'm grunting just as much, begging him for another orgasm, wanting to give my body, my heart, everything to this man who's taking me. He takes, but I give myself to him because I know he's giving just as much to me and more. This is what love is, I realize, and the knowledge hits me like a truck, driving me over the edge. I come again, my pussy clamping down on Joey's cock just as he reaches his peak, his cock exploding and filling my pussy with his hot, sticky come. I feel complete, joyous, and I start crying, my body racked with sobs of ecstasy as Joey empties himself into me.

I feel Joey lift my body up, holding me close as his cock slips out, his come still staying inside me as I get to my feet and turn, wrapping my arms around his neck and sobbing harder, purging my fear. “Joey... Joey....”

“Shhh, my beautiful Andrea,” Joey whispers back. “I was so worried before you called.”

“Why?” I whisper, and Joey picks me up again, laying me on the bed and holding me close as he lies down next to me.

“I thought... I thought that maybe you had decided that the best thing to do was for me to leave you alone. I thought the same thing. It hurt, but I thought maybe it was safer, for the best. I thought I could take the pain. But, but Andrea, I can't do that. I've spent my whole life since my father died trying to take care of others, been focused on others. I need you though, Andrea. I need you as much as I need air and water. I... I love you.”

I stroke his beautiful face, kissing him softly. “Joey, you're the first person in my life who has ever cared about me more than they cared about themselves. Every other relationship in my life before you was someone trying to get more out of me than what they had to give. Until you. You've shown me the truth when you have given yourself, over and over again. You've opened your home, your family, your friends to me. You've shown me what a real man is, what real tenderness is. What real love is.”

Joey smiles and wipes at his eyes. “I feel greedy, wanting you this much Andrea. I love you, and I'm greedy because I don't want to let you go. I want you to be in my life and I've never felt this way before. I... this is more than just love. At least in the way that I know the word.”

I kiss him again, smiling. “I know what you mean, Joey. Love doesn't seem to be enough to contain everything I feel for you. And I want you to be greedy, I want to give myself to you and to give you every pleasure I can. I want to be yours, whatever demand or greedy expectation you have. I... just promise me, you'll keep being greedy about me?”

Joey laughs, nodding softly. “I promise. I'm going to be so greedy, you're going to be my treasure. For now, though... I think we need a shower. Before my.... our family gets home. I saw Maria's note, she cares about you too.”

“She's sweet. After our shower, maybe I'll find the ability to focus enough to tell you about my day. Can we share a shower?”

Joey chuckles and takes my hand, helping me up. “Only if you don't mind the shower ending being a bit cold. The water heater here only lasts about thirty minutes. And if we shower together....”

“A cold ending is fine by me. You keep me warm anyway.”

Joey

“So, what's it like having your girlfriend living with you?” James jokes when I get in the next morning, grinning in between practice sessions. It's the last recording day for my little side project, and I'm feeling amazing. Cora and Ian have made me feel special this session, and to be honest, I like it a lot. I'm not saying I'd like to split off on my own, but maybe there's something to doing my own thing sometimes.

“Amazing,” I reply honestly, and I know a foolish smile is stretching out my face. I had a hard time keeping it off my face all last night after Mama and Maria got back from their babysitting work, although I'm sure Maria kind of guessed what we'd been up to since we forgot to re-make the bed before they got home. Then again, I don't really want to hide either. “Seriously man, I'm sorry you couldn't help out a few days ago.”

“Don't sweat it, it was my day with my son anyway, I would have turned you down,” James says, shrugging.

He sips his coffee, wincing at the harsh flavor. “Jesus, I gotta get Larry to hire interns who know how to make coffee. This shit will stunt your growth. Back to your domestic bliss. What's Andrea going to do now? I mean, knowing you, she could be a sugar baby and you wouldn't say a thing, but I get the impression she's not that type.”

I nod, starting to set up my gear. “She was talking with a friend of hers from the Pulse, he recommended that she look at Internet media. Start a blog, social media, stuff like that. Indie talents or talents who are restrained by the corporate conglomerates from telling their real story. She was thinking, and I agree, that she could really make things work that way too. She showed me some preliminary design ideas she had for her own blog, a lot of it was really good looking.”

“The blog or the girl?” James jokes before he grows serious, stretching his arms up and putting his hands behind his head as he thinks. “Actually.... you remember how I was saying that the label wanted to upgrade the band's website?”

“Yeah, I remember. Why?”

James nods to himself, then looks up. “Let me talk to Larry. I can't promise anything, but what about we kind of kill two birds with one stone? Any human-interest stuff needs a good writer and journalist to do, and maybe if we can use that as a try-out.”

“Try out for what?” I ask, confused. “I'm not into publicity, James.”

“Imagine it this way. I told you the conglomerates don't always play nice. Well, what if Amanda Coates just happens to have a link to all the acts that work for George T or at least for Gashouse? She can do stuff for the Fragments' website, and keep some of it also for her blog. You said social media. So, her Facebook or whatever has her doing selfies with all the acts, stuff like that. George would love it, he hates Darren Coates, getting a jab in on him would make him happy enough to give us all a nice Christmas bonus, but also... well, it could be a win-win. Your girl gets a start at an income stream, and the acts get more exposure. I'm getting ahead of myself though.”

“I like it,” I reply, plugging in and warming up my fingers. “When could we start?”

“I'll need to give George and Larry a call, but if Andrea isn't busy we could probably get her on it tomorrow. Maybe have her start with Rocky and Cora? No offense to you, Joey, but with their wedding coming up a lot of people are interested. And it'd make a great blog story, a scoop really.”

“That'd take their permission. I'm not saying Rocky would say no, but he likes having his family life being at least a little private.”

James gives me a thumb’s up, letting me warm up while everyone else shows up. I can't hear while James talks to Ian and Cora outside the booth, but I can see their body language, and Cora gives a happy nod of her head, while Ian gives what passes for agreement, at least for Ian. When he comes in, he gives me a little smirk and a nod. “Blogging about us, huh?”

“She'll make you famous,” I joke, and Ian gives me a bark of laughter.

“I'm already as famous as I think I can handle. But... if your girl wants to talk with me for a website, I can do that for her. Come on, let's get a few more tracks laid.”

With there being no vocals, and Ian's drums being mostly there for providing a beat, I run through three of the riffs I've been working on before noon, happy when things finish. Cora gives me a huge grin, hitting the microphone. “Joey, you sure you don't want a solo track or even a solo album with this stuff?”

“No, we're a team one hundred percent,” I reply, before being struck by inspiration. “Cora, do you have an extra ten minutes? Just for a quick recording of a freestyle running through my head right now?”

Cora gives me a thumb’s up and in seconds the red recording light comes on. Ian sits back, curious as I start playing. In my mind, I'm seeing Andrea, the way she looked making love yesterday afternoon, the way her hair shone golden in the overhead lights, the passion and desire in her green eyes as we pushed each other to a level of sexual harmony that I'd never felt before yesterday. My fingers fly on my strings and the frets as I relive the experience in my mind, and when my playing reaches a climax, I'm gasping and aroused too, a dim part of me glad that I'm wearing loose pants today. I ease it down for a few seconds before tapering off, feeling the sweat trickle down my cheek.

“How was that?”

Cora's staring at me, her eyes wide and she says nothing for a second before she turns off the recording light, and gives me another thumb’s up. Ian's also silent until he clears his throat. “Jesus, man, that's a fucking baby-making song.”

I blush, and Ian shakes his head, getting up and leaving the booth. Cora sits silently for another minute before she comes into the booth, smiling. “I have it. And while Ian's being a bit crass with it, he's right. That was one sexy, amazing solo, Joey. You just did your Four Letters, bro. And I got all of it on high-def digital. Seriously, I've called you a guitar god before, but that transcended humanity, you truly touched the divine there. And you better be glad that you're in a relationship, and that I'm engaged, because after that... Rocky's getting rocked when I get home.”

I blush deeper, smiling. “Yeah... I'm kinda feeling the same way. Not about Rocky, though.”

Cora gives a bark of laughter, grinning. “That's good.”

* * *

Andrea looks around as we pull up in front of Rocky and Cora's home in Simi Valley, taking it in for a moment before saying anything. “So... I don't want to sound spoiled, but this place looks so normal.”

“That's because that's what they wanted,” I laugh, reaching for my camera. “Here, you get to do all the shooting today, remember? Gotta earn your keep, woman!”

Andrea laughs, taking the Canon EOS from me and sliding the strap around her neck. We spent two hours yesterday going over how to use the camera, she’s going to be fine with it.

“And you're sure that Cora and Rocky are cool with this?” she asks, chewing her lip. “I mean, I'm not a legit journalist anymore.”

“And I'm not a legitimate guitar player since I'm not in the Philharmonic,” I reply, taking her hand. “Andrea, it's not who you work for that makes you a journalist. You are what makes you a journalist. Besides, it'll give you a chance to really get to know the other half of my family more. The Fragments are part of my family, just as much as Mama and Maria and Angel. Besides, I'll be here. This isn't just a business thing.”

Andrea smiles and turns, looking at me. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Remind me, we've got to tell Mama and Maria that. Just so they know,” I comment, climbing out of my car. It feels great to say it, and I want to say it all the time, but I'd like to make sure Mama and Maria aren't caught off guard when we start using it around the house.

Rocky and Cora are inside, and Cora gives us both a hug when we knock. “Hey, we asked Bella to hang out in her room a little bit while we figure out what you want to shoot and ask about, Andrea. We trust you, but Bella's still little.”

“I totally understand,” Andrea says. “If you want to keep her out of all the photos, I'm totally cool with that. I understand if you want to protect her privacy. Oh, and I'll make sure there are no shots of your address, anything like that.”

Rocky nods, his face slightly serious. “Andrea, we trust you to be totally professional. And since this is for the website, we know you'll be putting things in a good light, which is fine by me. For your blog, I'd just ask that we get to read it first.”

Andrea nods, her face also serious. “Rocky, anything I put in my blog is going to be vetted through you guys first. If I can't agree to any edits you want, I don't run the entire piece. That's a promise I'll make to you now.”

Rocky offers his hand, and they shake, Rocky's seriousness disappearing immediately afterward. “Good. Now that we've got that settled, would you like to see Bella's playset? Bella!”

Bella Clearwater comes out of her room, running down the hall to hug Rocky in a maneuver that is almost identical to what Angel does to me when he and I see each other again. He might not be Bella's birth father, but he loves the girl very much and has been a father to her in every meaningful way since he and Cora connected. “Bella, would you like it if Andrea took pictures of you today?”

“Sure, Daddy!” Bella says, and I can see that Rocky's still moved by the word. It nearly brought me to tears the first time I heard her call Rocky that. “What do you want to see, Andrea?”

“How about your playset, like Rocky mentioned?” Andrea asks, smiling. “And can I ask you some questions about Cora and Rocky while we play?”

“You want to play with me?” Bella asks, her eyes wide and a grin forming on her face. “Cool!”

“How about we all play?” I ask. “I wore casual clothes for a reason, you know.”

“I thought it was so I could make you look bad in the garage,” Rocky lightly taunts, and I smirk. “What?”

“I signed up somewhere, Rock. You might find yourself looking bad on our website.”

Cora shakes her head, glancing at Andrea who's grinning. “Getting what you want?”

“For sure. And I'm looking forward to seeing the garage. What's in there?”

Rocky winks, punching me lightly on the shoulder. “You'll see. We've got ropes and chains now too.”

“Say what?” Andrea asks, then shakes her head. “Whatever it is, I've seen worse in Beverly Hills. Come on Bella, let's go have fun while Rocky grows up.”

We spend nearly an hour playing on the giant wooden set. Andrea gets plenty of shots, including my personal favorite, Rocky pushing Cora on the swing while she holds onto the ropes, her stomach just starting to show through the thin sweatshirt she's wearing. We go inside for lunch, Bella enjoying a peanut butter sandwich while she tells Andrea all about her life before meeting Rocky. As she does, I talk quietly with Rocky in the corner, both of us eating our own sandwiches. “Who's Lemondrop?”

Rocky laughs silently, nodding in understanding. Bella talked about someone named Lemondrop at least a half dozen times in the past hour, and I'm honestly confused. “Kid of some Hollyweird type, as Cora calls them. From her old daycare.”

I chuckle, chewing my sandwich. “So... boy or girl?”

“You’re not finding out early, Joey. Keep it up, we're going to name the kid something Hollyweird, too. I was thinking... how about Butterfly?”

“If it's a boy, you're going to get your ass kicked by me and Ian, in defense of our nephew,” I tease.

Just then, Andrea's phone rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket, glancing at the caller. “Excuse me, Bella, do you mind if I talk to my friend here? It's a work call.”

“No, thanks for playing,” Bella says politely. She might have been raised in a crappy apartment, she might have eaten welfare food, but Bella's been raised with politeness and class. Cora should be proud of her efforts. Looking over at her face as she eats her lunch, I can tell she is proud of her daughter, and I wonder if perhaps I'm getting sentimental. Or maybe, even though I love Angel very much, I'm starting to want children of my own.

Andrea takes her phone and goes into the living room, the door closing behind her as she talks to whoever it is. A minute later, the door opens again and she comes in, surprise on her face. “Say that again Harry? Hold on, I want to put you on speakerphone, I've got Joey here with me. Just a sec.”

Andrea puts her phone down, giving Cora a look which Cora reads expertly. She whispers in Bella's ear, and the two of them leave the dining area, Rocky giving her a look before Andrea waves it off and starts the speakerphone. “Okay Harry, so you were saying about the office?”

“Yeah, apparently, your father just read your resignation letter today. Who did you turn that thing in to, anyway?”

Andrea sits down, and Rocky and I come over, intrigued. Andrea taps her ear and pinches her lips, I get the point. Right now, I need to listen, not talk. “Harry, I turned it into the third-floor HR people, then told Carl. He's the editor, I felt I owed him that much.”

“Well, apparently either HR didn't notify the board room, or Carl didn't want to get his ass lit on fire, because nobody told your father, or that you'd moved out of your apartment. He comes storming in here at just after nine, screaming for heads. When poor Polly tells him that you'd quit, she escorted you off the property your last day, he starts tearing her a brand-new asshole.”

“Fuck, I'm sorry about that,” Andrea groans, closing her eyes. “Did he...?”

“No, Polly still has her job. Carl stepped up for her that much. Darren chewed Carl's ass pretty hard right there in the middle of the floor, too. He said that you didn't quit, that you're fired for cause, and he's going to demand HR change your status too. A lot of cursing, I didn't know people who wore suits like that knew so many variations of the word fuck before.”

“Yeah, my father's pretty fluent in fuck-in-ese,” Andrea rumbles. “So, what's the fallout?”

“Your father pissed off nearly everyone in the building with his rant,” Harry says. “My guess is that it's going to boomerang on him. Right now, a lot of people are scared, running for cover, but I've already had three people say that what he did was wrong. Carl's a good guy and a damn fine editor. To curse him out like a little bitch like he did... and then that grade school shit about you didn't quit, you got fired... no, your father hurt himself with that tantrum.”

“I'm not that upset about it,” Andrea says, opening her eyes and looking at me. “What do you say, Joey?”

“I say fuck 'em, the man wants to cut his own throat go right ahead,” I comment, coming the rest of the way over and sitting down. “You don't need Darren anymore.”

“Hey, is that really Joey Rivera? Wow, big fan, man,” Harry says on the other end of the line. “That's my point of view too, by the way. Listen, don't worry about Darren. I talked with a friend in HR right before I called you, he said that Darren doesn't know shit about HR law or procedures. Not only is what he's demanding illegal as shit, but he wouldn't know how to do it anyway. They won't do a damn thing.”

“Tell them thank you,” Andrea says, shaking her head. “How'd I miss him being so petty?”

“We're often blind when it comes to family, 'Dre. Hey, I've gotta get going, I just wanted to give you a heads up, and to tell you that literally, every person I've talked to has said they've got your back. I told them I'd pass it along, just to keep you safe.”

Andrea's got tears in her eyes, and I can understand. I speak up. “Harry, I don't think you need to put yourself at this much risk. Are you sure?”

“Hey, when he went off about 'that dirty fucking bean eater,' I was having flashbacks to some of the stupid shit I heard as the only black kid in my high school in Utah. So yeah... I'm totally sure, and so is everyone else. I’ve gotta go for now. Take care.”

The phone goes dead, and Andrea's openly crying now, wiping at her eyes. Rocky gives her a pat on the back before leaving us alone, and I take her hand, enveloping her in a hug. “I swear Andrea, you are safe and I will always be here for you.”

We hold each other for a minute or two until Andrea steps back, wiping away the last of the tears. “I love you, Joey. For now, though, let's go show the world how awesome Cora and Rocky are. I should be able to get enough to put together some awesome stuff tonight.”

* * *

“George T loves your work,” James says as he sits in the living room, looking around. Maria brings him a cup of coffee which he accepts gratefully, his eyes flickering over Maria for a moment before turning away. I don't fault him for it, he's single, Maria's nineteen, and she's still in the prime of her youthful loveliness in my opinion. Then again, she's my little sister, I'm always going to think she's beautiful.

“I'm glad to hear it James, but you didn't need to come over here just to tell us that,” I comment, sitting next to Andrea as she takes her laptop back after showing James the latest stuff that she's prepped for upload to the band's website.

“You're right, I didn't,” James says, sipping the coffee. “Maria, thank you. It's delicious.”

“You're welcome. I'll give you guys some privacy if you like. Angel and I are working on some reading lessons anyway. Take care.”

Maria leaves, James watching before he turns back and sets the cup down. “Okay, I didn't want to say it with your family around, so do you mind if we take a walk? Backyard even?”

I glance at Andrea, who nods, and we get up, leading James onto the back patio where we close the door. James looks around and nods in approval. “Nice back yard. Anyway, Joey, this is more you than Andrea, but it involves Darren Coates. I figured you both needed to hear it.”

“What's going on?” I ask, Andrea nodding in echo. James sighs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the November wind is brisk today. I've gotten used to wearing sweatshirts almost all the time, or jackets if I know I'm going someplace that will be warm inside.

“Darren… well, he's got his fingers in with some of the trash tabloids,” James says, shaking his head in disgust. “Anyway, after what happened earlier this week that you guys told me about, apparently, he's having some of those shitstains go after you, Joey.”

“What are they trying to say?” I ask. “I mean, I'm no choir boy, but I've never been arrested. I'm boring as hell for the most part tabloid-wise.”

“You're right, George T ran a full background on you before he called me up on this. He's getting personally involved, he's pissed. Basically, Darren told his tabloids to start spreading the rumor that... well, that you're an illegal alien.”

“What?” I ask, more shocked at the stupidity than the actual accusation itself. “James, that has to be the stupidest way to try and get at me... for fuck's sake, I was born in the Naval hospital on Camp Pendleton! Mama was born in San Juan, and Papa was born in New York!”

James nods, sighing again. “Hell, I know that. George T showed me your birth certificate, at least the publicly available one. The bullshit that Darren's putting out is that it was forged. But, George is already all over it. He already directed the legal team, not for Gashouse but his legal team, to ready a response. He's also got the PR team going overtime. Seems that the label's sort of overlooked until now that your father was a hero, I think they were worried that if they made an issue about it, you'd feel like they were milking a tragedy for dollars. But regardless of what else might happen, going after the son of a Silver Star hero is a stupid fucking move. George T has your back, and he's a powerful man to have in your corner.”

I nod, slightly shaken, but grateful. “Thanks, James. I'll need to tell Mama, but thank you. Pass it along to George too.”

“He’ll appreciate it. He had a suggestion that, regardless of whether this shit with Darren continues or not, is interesting. George knows some of the people in the area, and I already checked, Pendleton's booked... but what about you guys playing the Marine Corps Birthday Ball at Twenty-Nine Palms? It's short notice, but you guys could do a low key set easily, right?”

I think about it, then nod. “I think I'd like that. Tell George I'll talk it over with the guys. Even if I have to, maybe I'll play it solo if the guys can't or don't want to.”

James grins. “They'd like some of those songs you've been working on. Think you can figure out an electric guitar version of Halls of Montezuma?”

“It's actually officially called the Marine Corps Hymn, but yeah, I can play that,” I reply, nodding again. For some reason, the idea fills me with energy and strength, and I enjoy the thought. “I worked out how to do that years ago on the tenth anniversary of Papa's death. Thanks, James.”

After James leaves, I stay outside, watching the sky. Andrea stays next to me. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. Thinking about all this, the good and the bad... gimme a few moments? Then, well... I was thinking I'd like to hit the gym. You want to come with?”

“I'd like that. I'll go change,” Andrea says. She leaves, and I watch the sky, the wind pulling the clouds quickly from my right to my left until I feel a presence behind me, and I turn to see Mama looking at me with those dark, sad eyes of hers.

“Andrea told me what James said. I am proud of your reaction, hijo.”

“Thank you, Mama. I just... right now, there's a deep anger inside me, and I don't know how to get rid of it. I'm hoping that the gym will help me control it.”

Mama nods, coming over to stand next to me and watch the sky. “You know, Tomás had the same anger. When he first got posted to Camp Pendleton, before you were born, we were so young. He was just a Lance Corporal at the time, and his platoon sergeant was one of those old-style Marines. I wouldn't call him racist, he was just a pendejo to everyone.”

I chuckle, nodding. Even though I was less than ten years old, I remember a few of the Marines Papa served with. Some of them were hardly gentlemen. “I'm sure that made Papa angry enough to want to scream.”

“There were so many nights Tomás would come home, fuming. Gunny Allen this, Gunny Allen that. It seemed not a week would go by without Allen saying something that pissed off Tomás. But, he knew that if he did anything, Allen wouldn't hesitate to bust him and throw him in the brig. I got pregnant with you about that time, and Tomás, he was like you, a real man, verdad macho. So, he dealt with it, but the one thing Tomás never did was pop Gunny Allen in the mouth. Although Allen did get what was coming to him eventually.”

“Oh? What happened?” I ask, and Mama chuckles.

“It seems that Gunny Allen was as free with his foul mouth against black Marines as he was against Chicano Marines. One night, Allen found himself on the receiving end of a sleeping bag beat down out in the field. Afterward, not a single Marine in the entire platoon knew what the hell Allen was talking about. But Tomás bore the anger and the frustration, never raising a voice to me. If you need to work off some anger, do so. I trust your ability to direct the anger where it needs to go. Tomás never did as well on the PT test as he did during those years with Gunny Allen making him angry so often.”

Mama's quiet little story about Papa makes me think. She doesn't talk about him much, and when she does, it's with love and affection. To hear her talk about Papa going through some of the same challenges I'm facing now, and for Papa to come through it with his honor and his strength intact, it feels like a little bit of wisdom passed down father to son, even if it must come from my mother. If Tomás Rivera can do it if he can direct his anger safely... I can do it too.

“Thank you, Mama. I think I'll go introduce Andrea to the gym. We'll be back in time for dinner.”

“I hope so....” Mama replies, teasingly. “You're cooking.”

Andrea

My website looks great, and I'm working in another window, getting ready to check my upload of my interview with Ian about his favorite foods. It's a total fluff piece, but it allows me to do more than just copy and paste the same article from the band's website to my blog. I know that James told me that I can do just that, but I also know that one of the big things that drive website traffic is unique content. Selfies alone aren’t going to do that, even though my recent work with Joey at the gym makes me think I might just be looking good enough for a halfway decent booty-selfie. No duck lips though. Never duck lips.

Thankfully, Ian was glad to let me film us going out for lunch at a food truck in Huntington Beach, and the video is going to be the centerpiece of the article. The food truck was, of course, more than happy to let us film, and I even got a plug from them so that once it's uploaded to my website and it launches, the article will also include a link to their Facebook page. It's sort of a mutually beneficial relationship. I friend them, they friend me, I try to drive a little bit of traffic to their pages, they try to drive some stuff my way, and in the end, our network grows bigger.

I'm typing in Ian's comment about what he likes on his favorite burritos when my phone rings. It's a strange ring, and I realize with a bit of surprise it's coming in over my Skype app, I remember I used it yesterday to call one of the contacts that Harry forwarded to me. It's safer and more anonymous than using a regular phone number.

I open my app and see that the user ID is unfamiliar, but I figure I might as well, maybe it's one of Harry's contacts reaching out to me, although if that's the case I need to talk to Harry about being more careful with that. He said he'd notify me before he gave out my information to anyone. “Hello?”

“Well, well, I finally remembered you had a Skype ID.” Chad. Son of a... I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I'm sitting at the dining room table, with two other people in the house while Joey takes Maria out grocery shopping. Teresa is working on her paperwork in my bedroom, and Angel is content to work on some coloring pages next to me while the two adults do their work. Angel looks up when I start speaking, but shrugs, he's heard me talk to all sorts of people recently.

“What do you want, Chad? Wanted to ask what my plans were for Thanksgiving?”

“From what I hear, sucking on chorizo,” Chad taunts, and I pick up my phone, turning off the speaker to spare Angel any of this ugliness. Was I always surrounded by this much ignorant hatred?

“That's disgusting, even for you Chad. Now, one last time, what do you want?”

“Where are you living now, Andrea? I'd like to come by and see you some time, but the last time I went by your place, it was empty. I even went by to see your dad, and Darren tells me you've quit at the paper? So, what's going on?”

“Just what you've seen and heard, Chad. I left the paper, I moved to a new place where I have my freedom to be who I am, to spend time with the people I want to spend time with. Why got a problem with that?”

“Damn right I do. I mean, we've all played on the wild side, but dating a guy like that... what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I'm dating a man now Chad. Something I doubt you're ever going to be. By the way, how's the DA treating you?”

I really shouldn't, but he's gotten under my skin, and I'm this close to hanging up on him right now. The only reason I haven't is a lifetime of being taught not to be rude to people on the phone, and the journalistic instinct to pump a conversation for as much information as possible, even if it turns my stomach to listen to it. Still, I can't help but get some digs in on Chad, let him know how I feel.

“A man?” Chad scoffs. “Is that what you're calling him? He's a punk from the fucking barrio, and that's all he's ever going to be. I don't care if he outsells the Beatles and makes a billion dollars. You can take the boy out of the barrio, but not the barrio out of the boy.”

“He’s got Marine blood running in his veins, and if you keep it up, he might just introduce you to that. In case you've forgotten Chad, you and I are done, finished. We broke up months ago, back in June to be precise.”

Chad laughs harshly, sounding slightly unhinged. Or maybe drunk, he's never been someone who felt you had to wait until after five o'clock on the weekdays to start enjoying a good drink. “You mean you got your panties in a wad back in June, and you still haven't unclenched them. Like I said, I get it, he's giving you a tick on your bucket list, I did the same thing with a girl from Compton a few years back. But that doesn't matter. Where are you now?”

“I'm not telling you, Chad. And after this, I'm blocking this ID, going private. So, goodbye.”

“I'm not worried,” Chad says before I can hang up the call. “After all, between the P.I.s that work for my Dad, and those that work for yours, I'm sure someone's going to find you and your barrio boyfriend. Goodbye... for now.”

The call hangs up, and I resist the urge to slam my phone down on the table. Instead, I set it down, saving the work on my laptop before I stand up, forcing myself to stretch my arms overhead to try and calm myself down. Instead of going back to work I go into the living room, walking around for a full hundred count before I come back into the dining room, watching as Angel is working on a picture. “Hey, buddy, what're you drawing?”

“Mommy and me playing at the park,” Angel says, referring to the large brownish blobs on the paper. His imagination is a lot more advanced than his drawing skills, like most little kids. “I'd like to go there again.”

“Cool. So where is this park, anyway? I haven't really had a chance to look around town too much.”

“By the big kids’ school. It's a big park, with a play area, baseball fields, and basketball. Mommy takes me there if the weather's nice. I'd like to go have a picnic,” Angel asks, looking up at me. “That'd be cool. What do you drink?”

“You'd let me join your family outing?” I ask, touched. “Thanks, Angel.”

“Joey loves you, of course, you come! You're fun, too, you know. You make Joey laugh, even more than Mommy does.”

“I love him too, Angel. He's really a good man.”

Talking with Angel helps me feel at least better when Joey and Maria come home, and I help them unload Joey's car, bringing in the week's worth of food. I load up my arms with four bags while Joey goes Hercules and carries a staggering eight full heavy bags, and Maria carries another four. Just helping them unpack and put away all of it takes them nearly a half hour. “Okay, as soon as I've got some money I'm going to get my own car so that I can help with that. Joey, are you sure we're not going to be putting another fridge or a chest freezer out in the garage if this keeps up?”

Joey shakes his head, his eyes twinkling. “I can think of at least a hundred things I'd rather put in the garage.”

Maria rolls her eyes, and I guess he came out to her about our intimacy because she gives me a knowing look. Joey goes in to check on Angel, and Maria stays behind, giving me a look. “Maria....”

“He's my brother. So yeah, I'm the kid sister, but still, he's blood, he's family. I like you a lot, Andrea. Don't screw it up, okay?” she says quietly, then smiles. “And he said he really loves you a lot. I gotta give you props for that.”

“Thank you. Listen, something happened while you guys were out, I think I should tell you both. Can you get Joey in here quietly?”

Maria nods, her dark eyes full of concern, but she gets Joey and they come back in, Joey's face concerned. “What's up?”

“Chad called me via Skype,” I explain, recounting my conversation. “I'm just worried... Joey, they've got the resources to find us. I don't want to put you guys in danger here.”

“Uh-uh, don't even start with that thinking,” Maria interrupts me. “I saw how he was those days you weren't calling, and I didn't even know why. I saw the way you were when you came in that first night, you slept like the dead because you were exhausted, and I don't mean just from the work. We're a family, and we're going to stay family. And yes, that means you too, Andrea. Now, are we going to stop that, or do I throw you to both in the garage and lock the door until you two figure that part out again?”

Her voice is quiet but intense, fiery as she looks at both of us. With a strength that I've seen before. A strength built from years of working hard and sticking together as a family no matter what, and this time it's supporting me. I swallow, and instead of answering I give her a hug, squeezing her petite frame tightly. “I love you, Maria.”

“Te amo, Andrea. Te amo.” Maria hugs me back, wiping at her eyes. “Okay, now that we've had our little emotional moment, I'm going to go check on Mama. You two talk things over or something, figure out what you want to do this evening. I've got a babysitting job I'm doing near Moorpark, so I've gotta rush. You mind if Angel stays home? It's going to be one of those late jobs.”

“We're good,” Joey says. “I think Andrea and I might go for a walk though. You mind if we take off for an hour or so?”

Maria's cool with that, she'll prep dinner for everyone tonight, giving us time to be alone. Outside, Joey and I walk, holding hands for a couple of blocks before Joey has us turn down a side street, one I haven't been down before. “What's here?”

“A block up is an elementary school, it's one of the reasons I chose this house for us when we moved. It's close enough to the school that once Mama and Maria get their paperwork taken care of, they're going to have plenty of clients who are within walking distance, and it'll be good for Angel too. The school district is a good one. I don't know how long this music thing is going to last so I'm going to make sure my family is taken care of and set up while I can,” Joey says. “I... until I met you, I thought taking care of them was enough. But now, I want more. I want you too.”

“Joey, I don't know how to be a good girlfriend, or spouse, or mother, or any of that,” I admit, sighing. “I mean, I'm trying, but... my mother left when I was seven. And considering what I've found out about my father, I'm surprised I'm not as bitter and hateful as he is.”

“What happened?” Joey asks quietly. I see the school up ahead, and we climb the short dirt hill that's on the corner, going up into the parking lot where I see that school's still in session, the buses are idling to take their students back home. We sit on the ground underneath a big oak tree at the edge of the parking lot, watching the school as the minutes tick by. The bell rings before I can start, and soon students are coming out of the classrooms, bikes rolling, kids running, and some lining up for the bus. It seems to go so fast, but it can't have been more than ten minutes. Finally, when it quiets again, I start talking again.

“I don't really remember the details, I was young and my parents were both trying to keep it quiet. I do remember that Mom and Dad started taking dinners apart from each other, and sometimes I'd eat with Dad, but normally with Mom when she was around. The one argument I remember, Mom was yelling at Dad about a dress he'd bought for me. I don't even remember the dress, really. But Mom was yelling that it was totally inappropriate for me, and there was no way in hell that she was going to let me be treated that way. I didn't really understand it at the time, all I knew was that Mom and Dad were fighting and that it was somehow about me. I felt like hell, and I shrunk down in my room, trying not to listen. Not that it helped, they were both too loud this time to hold back. Dad yelled back that I was his daughter to raise as he saw fit, and that if he wanted to buy me a dress, he was going to buy me a dress. Mom then said something that I still don't quite understand to this day. She threatened him with going public about his habit, something about his tendency to order in. As a child, I had no idea what she meant, and even now, knowing some of the different meanings of ordering in, I can't quite peg it except that I think it was something illegal or at least publicly embarrassing. Darren Coates likes to drink, but he never did any sort of hard drugs that I know of, and I never saw him with anyone that could be classified as an escort. Besides, he had plenty of girlfriends after he and Mom got divorced, he didn't need to find an escort unless it was on business trips or something like that. I never saw anyone I'd classify as a call girl around the house, that was for sure.”

“So, your Mom left?” Joey asks, and I shake my head. “What happened?”

“Dad happened,” I reply simply. “I found out some of the details in high school by poking around in his home study, but basically he kicked her out. He had a team of legal eagles, including Chad's father, more or less bully her into accepting a no-fault divorce that kept to a prenup that she'd signed a long time back plus an extra ten million dollars. He kept full custody of me, and she was given enough money to keep her mouth shut. The agreement stated that if she contacted me, or tried to give even a single interview about the marriage, she'd forfeit all the ten million, and be left with just the prenup money, which wasn't much, barely a half million. Mom was a decade younger than Dad. I don't think she understood what she was signing at the time.”

“Did you ever try to find your mother?” Joey asks, and I shrug, shaking my head after a moment.

“Until I left for college, I didn't have the means. Dad showered me with stuff, but beyond a credit card that he had full control over, I didn't have any money of my own. And I was too angry, too. Until high school, I thought she'd walked out on us, not the other way around. At college, I thought about it, but a lot of things got in the way. I mean, I haven't seen her in fifteen years, Joey. What if she's moved on? What if she's got a new family, maybe even a new child? Like I said she was younger than Dad by a good margin too, she'd only be forty-three right now. That's still young, young enough to have remarried, had a new family, all sorts of things. What if she doesn't want to see me?”

“What if she does?” Joey asks quietly. “What if she knew that your father was a bastard, and has worried about you ever since? Even if just to tell her that you're free now too, maybe you might want to tell her that much.”

I think about it, then shake my head. “Maybe you're right, but not until this shit with my father is over and done with. I won't have him polluting any chances with Mom. Also, I've got to figure out my own feelings about some of the things Mom had to be aware of, things that I wasn't, like Dad's racism, and whatever this ordering in is. Besides, you've got a gig to get ready for, and then a wedding to do.”

Joey chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, tomorrow night out at Twenty-Nine Palms. I still can't believe the guys agreed to that, with the wedding just a week from tomorrow.”

“You guys are rockers. It's what you do, it's who you are. Besides,” I muse with a grin, “I've got one hot date for the Marine Corps Ball. Sounds like a lot of fun to me, and I already have something to wear. All that crap that you helped me move in from my old place? There's a dress in there for that, I'm sure of it.”

Joey

“Dude, looks like you're going to get dressed up normally. No stage makeup?” Ian asks as I help him load up the Gashouse van, putting the garment bag with my clothes for tonight inside, hanging it on the side wall. Gashouse maintains two vans that today are being used to transport a small performance kit to the Marine Corps Ball location.

Rocky's taking responsibility for making sure my family is safe so this evening Mama, Maria, and Angel are going to spend the night with Cora and Bella at Rocky's house, having a 'sleepover' for the kids. I figure with three grown women and both Rocky and Cora's parents being within a few miles of the house, they're safe.

Rocky, on the other hand, is escorting Andrea from his house to the ball in his personal car. We're going to be on the base itself, which I'm both dreading and looking forward to. It's been a very long time since I've been on a Marine Corps base. The Fragments have played on Army bases, Air Force bases, and even a Naval base... but not the Corps. I was just a little kid the last time I was there. I was so angry at the Corps, even though I know Papa chose that life. At the same time, I know he got a lot of his strength from the Corps and he taught me how to have that same strength.

“Tonight's not a night for going over the top. This is the Corps, and well… you know,” I explain to Ian as I pick up the biggest of the amps and lift it into the van. We don't know what equipment the Marines are going to have in the big ballroom that they're holding this at, after all. Better to be prepared to have to play with just these instead of banking on a sound system that may not be available.

“Good idea,” James says. He's helping us out and will be driving the van. “And not just from a publicity standpoint.”

James holds out a kit piece to Ian, but Ian doesn't take it from him. Instead, he's looking across the parking lot, his eyes squinting. “What the... who the fuck is that?”

James and I follow Ian's look, and I see a guy on the other side of the parking lot, poking around some of the cars. He's looking very intently at the license plates, and every occasionally, he's taking photos of cars too. With what Chad told Andrea yesterday, my alarm bells are ringing already. “Hey! Hey, buddy!”

I start walking across the parking lot, and the guy looks up. He recognizes me immediately and turns, taking off running. I chase after him, but he's off and around the corner before I even reach the sidewalk, and a moment later a dark blue SUV pulls out into the street, nearly sideswiping someone before pulling away. Ian comes running up behind me, huffing. “What was that?”

“I don't know,” I mutter. “I missed the fucking license plate, I really gotta work on my whole crimefighting skills.”

Ian laughs, catching his breath. “And I gotta work on running more. Jesus, how'd your little ass move so fast?”

“Little? I'm five ten, man. That's still above average. Not everyone's built like a Yeti, you know.”

Ian pats me on the back, his breath returning slowly. He's not much of a runner, but he's actually in decent shape. “Yeah well, starting tomorrow I'm going to start doing more cardio. Maybe I need to get me a bike or something because jogging kills my knees.”

“We'll figure something out for you, man. Come on, we've still got a gig to do,” I reply, walking back to the van with Ian. James has his phone out, putting it away when he sees us come back.

James sighs and picks up the piece of drum stand that he set down, putting it in the van. “Well, I'll give Larry a call after we get this loaded up, tell him to have the Gashouse people keep an eye out. Unfortunately, there isn't shit the police will do. You can't get a restraining order against someone just because you think they're a creepy bastard.”

“Which is the only way you survived your twenties,” Ian jokes to James, who snorts in amusement. “How many women did you perv on?”

“It was a very distinguished list, all fine, upstanding women.”

“Short list though.”

James snorts again, and even I grin at Ian's one liner. “You know Ian, you can be an asshole sometimes?”

“I know. Come on, let's get the rest of this loaded up so we can get out to Twenty-Nine Palms.”

It doesn't take us much longer, Ian and I have loaded up cars and vans for trips before. For the first four years the Fragments were around, we were our own roadies more often than not, and I haven't forgotten all the old habits, tying things down quickly and efficiently, making sure there's nothing that will slide around for James as he drives. It's just after ten when we finish up, and I slide the door closed, slamming it tight. “Okay, road trip time. Ian, are you driving, or am I?”

“I'll drive, my car's better for doing drive through burritos,” Ian notes, and I agree.

* * *

“You and Andrea....” Ian says as we pull up to a drive-through Mexican restaurant. I've learned to never discount anything this man says about wanting food, “you guys are looking more and more serious the more I see both of you.”

“It is serious, man. She's... Ian, I think she's my one,” I tell him, waiting while he orders. We've done this enough times he knows my order by heart, and after he gets four burritos (two for me, two for him) and drinks ordered, I continue. “I'm not saying things are perfect, I'm living in my garage for fuck's sake... but still, that's the way I feel.”

Ian nods, looking out the windshield at the taillights of the Prius in front of us, his eyes never wavering. I've seen him like this before, he's about to drop wisdom, and for a guy who's barely past twenty-six, he's got a lot of it. With a life like what his has been, even with as much as he's kept secret about his past, I can understand. “Good. She's good for you, Joey. You keep giving to others, and aren't taking anything for yourself.”

“Andrea needs things too, Ian. In case you forgot, I'm living in the garage that you helped me turn into a living space.”

The Prius pulls out, and Ian and I creep forward to await our food. When we stop, Ian speaks up again. “Real relationships are giving and taking on both sides. And I could see it as she and I did that little video interview for the website, she's giving to you as well. I don't know what, don't want to know what, but you two are good together.”

Our food comes, and Ian takes the bag, setting it in the console between us where the four paper wrapped burritos stand like slightly slumping trees. I take my drink and put it in the cup holder attached to the dash, thinking. “You don't mind? I mean Ian, Rocky and Cora... now me and Andrea, you're going to find yourself single and by yourself soon, things keep going this way.”

Ian laughs, taking a burrito out and tearing the paper, holding it in one massive hand while he steers us towards the freeway again. “Man, I'm never going to be the last single member of the band. In case you forgot, we've got James with us now too. If I can't find a girl before he does, I don't deserve to be in music.”

* * *

“Here's the beta on the website,” Andrea says, showing all of us her laptop. “What do you think?”

James looks it over, and I can tell already that he's impressed. “I like it. It's uploaded?”

“I've got it on the server, but it's not live yet,” Andrea says, taking her laptop back and closing it. “I wanted to make sure you guys approve before that happens.”

“I'm good,” Ian rumbles, wandering off to go set up his drum kit. He starts opening the cases and setting things up. He’s using an electronic kit tonight, which I know he hates, but it saves space.

“I'll take that as a rousing endorsement,” Andrea jokes as Ian walks away, looking at Rocky and James. “Guys?”

“It's good, really good,” Rocky says, smiling. “James?”

“I'm going to ask Larry to launch it live right around your wedding, Rock. It's a great way to combine real life good news with the relaunch, drive more traffic. Speaking as a publicist, of course.”

Andrea's smile grows, and she puts her laptop back in her bag, proud of her work. “Thanks, guys. Listen, my plan was to get some shots of you guys all setting up, maybe see if the Public Relations Office here will let me interview a few Marines about the fact you guys are playing the ball, and then cover the event itself.”

“In that?” I ask, surprised. Andrea's not dressed badly, but when she said she had something for the ball, I thought she was going to dress up more than a blouse and some slacks that make her legs look amazing, but at the same time are more daytime office work and not formal ball to me. Andrea raises an eyebrow, and I blush. “Sorry, you look amazing Andrea, but...”

“But the rest of my stuff is in Rocky's car, and I'm not showing any of you until it's time for the ball,” Andrea teases, winking. “Hope you have plenty of water for hydration, I'm planning on making you sweat Joey.”

Andrea goes over to Ian, taking my camera out of her bag and taking a few pictures before leaving the ballroom, Rocky, James, and I still speechless. “Was that the same casual, slightly shy, and the thankful woman I helped move into your house?” Rocky asks, snorting. “Looks like you woke up a fiery side to her.”

“All that Puerto Rican influence,” I joke, recovering. “I'm looking forward to seeing what she's got up her sleeve. James?”

“I'll escort her around the base if she's leaving here, I'm sure the PR Office won't mind if she talks to a few people, but you know Marines better than I do,” James says. “I agree, it's nice to see her blooming I guess is the best word.”

James leaves to follow Andrea, while Rocky and I start getting set up. Thankfully, a couple of guitars are nothing, and the ballroom has some people who are familiar with the sound system. We've still got three hours until the ball starts when we finish our sound checks, and Ian gives me a thumb’s up. Rocky is all smiles too, and I unsling my guitar, sighing happily. “Rocky, you don't mind playing a small ball like this?”

“You mean like playing my prom, or that impromptu bar job we did before Four Letters dropped?” Rocky asks, hopping down from the small stage that's been set up. “Man, this is what I got into music to do. Play for people who are going to enjoy what we're doing. Who cares if the crowd is twenty thousand or two thousand or two hundred? Hell, give me the right appreciation, and I'll play for a crowd of two that pays us in potato chips.”

“Good point,” I reply, setting my guitar aside. Other than me playing a version of the Marine Hymn, the set list we're going with is nothing hard, a few standards thrown in with a lot of our popular songs. We've played these songs at least a thousand times together, and I could play all of them nearly asleep. “I just hope I don't screw up my solo.”

“You'll play it with guts and balls, two things Marines appreciate,” Rocky reassures me. “You sounded fine in practice, you'll do fine tonight.”

The door to the ballroom opens, and Andrea comes in with James, still smiling. “Hey guys, how's setup?”

“Just finished,” I reply, hugging Andrea when she gets close enough and giving her a kiss. “How were the interviews?”

“Pretty good. I got an offer for you guys. General McClintock offered to have you guys poke around a tank if you'd like. What do you say?”

I glance at Rocky and Ian, who are both grinning. “As long as we've got the time to change and get ready for the ball.”

“Follow me then,” Andrea says, taking me by the hand. James is also nodding happily as we leave the ballroom and are met by a group of Marines, a Captain, and two NCOs. They introduce themselves as members of the 1^st Tank Battalion, and we jump in a couple of Humvees to ride over to the motor pool. It feels awesome, almost like I was a kid again on the days that Papa could let us into the actual Marine areas, and as I look around, talking with the Marines and being shows their Abrams tank, I must stop a few times to get control of my feelings. Andrea takes plenty of photos, Ian hamming it up a bit for her while I step away, collecting my thoughts.

“Excuse me, Mr. Rivera?” someone asks me, and I turn around, seeing a Lieutenant Colonel, his hair starting to go gray at the temples but still tremendously fit, a total Marine. “Are you Joey Rivera?”

“Yes, I am sir. Thank you for letting us see your motor pool. Your Marines should be proud.”

“Thank you. However, I had a question. We were just notified, and there's a lot of people with your name, but... was your father Staff Sergeant Tomás Rivera?”

I blink, trying to control the tears that are threatening my eyes. Dust, you can never fully get it out of motor pools, especially in the desert. “Yes... yes, he was, sir. Did you know him?”

The Lieutenant Colonel nods, offering his hand. “Sergeant Rivera was in my company back when I was a First Lieutenant. I even met you once, although I understand if you don't remember me, I wasn't his platoon leader, I was the company XO. Still, he was a good man, a good Marine. He used to talk about you constantly, I'm glad to see that you've grown into everything he wanted you to be. And I'm looking forward to the ball. My daughter has your songs on her iPod.”

“If you've got a CD at home, bring it by, I'll make sure all the guys sign it for your daughter,” I reply, shaking his hand. “Thank you, Colonel.”

“No, thank you, son. Enjoy the ball.”

* * *

“Wow, Andrea looked great,” Maria compliments as she goes through the photos on Andrea's laptop, looking over the shots from last night's ball. I'm still rubbing at my eyes after the ball went until nearly midnight, Andrea and I didn't get back home until after three in the morning, and I'm still sleep-addled. “You found yourself a knockout, big brother.”

“I know that,” I half yawn before draining the rest of the coffee from my cup. “It was hard to keep my focus on playing when she had Marines coming up to her all night asking her to dance.”

“And I turned every single one of them down,” Andrea teases, coming into the living room and kissing the back of my neck. “I'll admit, it was a bit much, but I thought you'd like it.”

“Andrea, the slit goes all the way up to your waist,” Maria says, pointing to the next photo. “You can get arrested in some places for wearing a dress that sexy.”

“It's yours then,” Andrea replies, coming around the sofa and sitting down next to me. She's got a plate with a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich on it that she's cut in half, and she offers me the slightly bigger portion, which I take gratefully. “Seriously Maria, we're close enough in size that you could wear it.”

“Maybe with eight-inch-high heels,” Maria jokes. “I'm a lot shorter than you.”

“Then we get it hemmed. You find a guy who you want to wear that dress for, and it's yours. Hey, check this out.”

Andrea reaches over me to the laptop and pulls up the videos, playing my guitar solo that started the ball. Maria watches silently as the video of me playing the Marine Hymn plays, and I can tell she's moved too. She doesn't remember as much about Papa as I do, but she still remembers him, and she's touched. When it finishes, Maria kisses me on the cheek and gives me a hug. “That was amazing, Joey. Papa would be so proud of you.”

Angel looks up from his coloring book, where he's been scribbling while the adults go over stuff that bored him by about the third picture, although he was slightly interested again when the pictures of us posing around the tanks were shown to him. “Andrea?”

“Yes, Angel?” Andrea asks, biting into her sandwich. “Would you like me to play the video again?”

“No... it's cool, but ….,” Angel says. “Do you know my Papa?”

Maria goes pale, and even I'm shocked at the question, Angel so rarely mentions his parentage. Andrea catches Maria's expression and sits forward, trying to maneuver the situation carefully. “No, I don't think so Angel. To me, Joey's your Papa, he acts like a father to you all the time.”

“Oh,” Angel says, sighing. “I just thought... well, we have the same color eyes. I thought maybe you knew my Papa.”

“Angel, hush!” Maria snaps before leaving the room. Andrea watches Maria go, and Angel follows her, upset that his mother was so strict with him. I can hear them both crying in the back after a moment, and I sigh, setting the rest of my sandwich down on the table, instantly forgotten. I'm not hungry anymore.

“I'm sorry if I handled that wrong,” Andrea whispers, setting her sandwich down as well. “I'll apologize to Maria when she's calmer.”

“There's no need to, you did your best,” I reply, taking her hand. “Just... Maria's got a lot of scarring from that. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“What happened?” Andrea asks. “I mean, I know the basics, so you don't need to tell me.”

I shake my head, standing up. “You deserve the story. Get changed into workout gear, I'll go make sure Maria and Angel are okay.”

“Workout gear?”

I nod, looking over my shoulder. “Every time I even think of this story I get so angry that I need to let it out somehow. The gym's a good place to do that safely.”

Andrea nods and gets up, going past me down the hallway to her room where she closes the door to her room silently. I check in on Maria, who's stopped crying while Angel hugs her, the two of them lying down on the bed. Maria looks at me with her eyes still rimmed in red when I come in. “Maria?”

“I'm okay, just surprised,” Maria whispers, obviously lying. “I heard what you told Andrea.”

“I won't tell her if you don't want. I just felt like she deserves to know a little more.”

Maria nods, blinking. “I love her too. Do it.”

“I love you, Maria. We'll be back,” I say, leaving her bedroom to meet Andrea in the hallway, her eyes full of concern. I nod, taking her hand and leading her out to my car. I get in, starting the engine and pulling out before I talk again.

“It was fall, Maria was fourteen and a few months,” I start, putting my car into drive and heading down the street. “We'd been back in school for long enough that the excitement of starting a new year had worn off, but before the grind got to us. I was in high school, a junior while Maria was still going to junior high, a weird trick of her birthday and the school calendar. It sucked for us, going to different schools. We'd spent so many years going to the same school or at least nearby enough that we could walk together.

“One night, it was a Wednesday, Ian calls me up. Rocky hadn't been with us long, in fact, those two were crashing together. There was a paid gig that Ian wanted us to really bust our asses for. Coming off the summer, where we could play more often, we had momentum going, so I said yeah, we could practice that night.”

“A Wednesday?” Andrea asks, and I nod, swallowing.

“Yeah, a Wednesday. Anyway, as I'm getting ready to go over to the Metro to catch the train that would take me close to Ian's, Maria asks if she can come along. I was going through a period where I was feeling like Maria and I lacked discipline, so I told her no. I said she had to stay at the apartment and left, not being a very nice brother when I did it either.”

“You were seventeen,” Andrea reminds me, and I know I’ve told her this before. “Most guys are jerks at seventeen.”

“Yeah well, I was a prime dickhead that night,” I sigh, turning onto Los Arboles and heading towards the gym. “Practice was practice, but when I got back, Maria was crying, sniffling and didn't want to let me near her. She started apologizing as soon as I asked her what was wrong, and she told me. She'd left the house, she had five dollars that she'd kept from a summer weekend job she helped me with, going down to the corner store. She got... she got trolled.”

“Huh?” Andrea asks, confused. “Trolled?”

“I'd heard the term around high school, I thought it was just an urban story, like the headlight thing or how on Halloween you couldn't wear Lakers gear at all since that was a signal that you wanted to be jumped into any of the sets around our neighborhood. It was one of those types of places,” I explain. “Trolling was supposed to be where girls, young girls especially, got picked up by guys for sex. The ones that found Maria... they'd work in pairs the stories went, always two white guys. They'd find a girl, the younger looking the better, and it wasn't her choice when they'd scoop her up. Later, after Maria calmed down enough, she told me what she remembered. She'd decided to go down to the convenience store a quarter mile from our apartment to get some ice cream. She was walking down the sidewalk when she noticed the guys, but she didn't think anything until they grabbed her, knocked her out with ether or something. Her memories of the rape itself are hazy she says. Thank God for small favors, but she remembers little bits. He was older she said, and she remembered that he had eyes like yours. She's never told me more, I didn't ask. When she turned up pregnant... I never asked her about it again. It doesn't matter. I failed, I failed as a brother and as the man of the family.”

Andrea sits silently, taking it all in. When she speaks again, she's quiet and I can hear the same anger and self-doubt in her voice that I've heard many times. “Did I... did I hurt her with my statement about the dress? I mean, talking about her finding a boyfriend. I was stupid.”

“No, that wasn't anything that hurt her,” I reassure her. “Maria's tried to have boyfriends sometimes, but once they see that she's got a kid, they jet. I don't know if she's been intimate since then, some things I don't ask, but I don't think she's scarred in that way. But no Andrea, you didn't hurt her with that. I was the one who hurt her, by being a bad brother.”

“No, you made a choice, not even a mistake. Maria didn't make a mistake either, and Teresa didn't make a mistake by working her job,” Andrea says, her voice stronger but still angry. “If anyone is to be blamed, it's the sick fuck who took your sister's innocence.”

We pull up in front of the gym, and I put my car in park, my pulse pounding. “Perhaps, Andrea. But still, I swallow a lot of that anger and blame. I can't help it, that's who I am.”

“And I'm here to give you a way to share that anger and blame,” Andrea says, taking my hand. “For now, though, I'm angry too. So... let's go work some of it off.”

“You're driving home. I probably won't be able to walk.”

We get out of the car, slamming the doors closed, and Andrea nods, holding out her hand for the keys. “Deal. Then we go home and hug your sister.”

“Our sister. She wants to be your sister too.”

“Our sister, then.”

Andrea

Despite my best efforts, Maria and Joey are still in major funks the next day, Teresa understanding when I explain to her quietly what caused it. Teresa says that she'll help Maria, but I'm more worried about Joey. “Teresa, he's still so angry at himself, this is something that's been boiling inside him for a while. Yesterday, I thought he was exaggerating when he said he wouldn't be able to walk out of the gym.”

Joey wasn't the only one who was angry though, I think to myself. Last night, I had nightmares, green eyes chasing me in the darkness while the words 'trolling' and 'ordering in' echoed around me. I woke up with a scream barely held behind my lips, twisted up in the sheets of my bed, panicked thoughts running around in my head. Ordering in? That's what Mom used to say Dad did and trolling... it's too horrific to think about. They can't be connected, they just can't. Even now an hour after waking up, having breakfast with Teresa who studies me with her sad, soulful gaze, the words gnaw at my head, and I have to do something to get them out.

Teresa sips her coffee and nods, her dark eyes glancing towards the garage door where Joey's lying in bed, still sleeping. “He was like this back then, too. Andrea, your heart and your beauty have captured my son's heart, but yes, your eyes have obviously dredged up memories that both of them prefer to not be reminded of. Of course, since Angel has those same eyes, I doubt they will ever be fully rid of them. I hope.... well, I hope that they will find peace with their pain.”

“Can that happen?” I ask, and Teresa nods. “How?”

“I would say through the grace of God, but I probably come off sounding too religious that way,” Teresa says quietly. “But I have my own anger and pain, Andrea. I have watched in the past thirteen years as my husband was taken from me, my son had his childhood ended far too quickly, and then my daughter became what some people would say is just another barrio statistic. I watched the pain my son and my daughter have been through, and I've been able to do little more than hugging them and make empty promises. This house, this coffee I'm drinking right now, that's from Joey's genius, not my hard work. Before you start, I don't discount my efforts, I'm saying all the effort in the world would not make a guitar player able to do what Joey did for those Marines two nights ago. That takes a genius that I was only able to.... perhaps the best word would be, assist.”

At the mention of music, I think, then nod. “I think I've got an idea, for sure for Joey, maybe for Maria too. Teresa, would you mind if I took them for the day? Can you watch Angel?”

Teresa's eyes sparkle as she nods. “Of course, Andrea. Grandmothers always have time to play with their grandbabies. We can spend the day making cookies. Are you going to tell me what the idea is?”

“I checked some of the arts and entertainment websites, I read a mention that the City Art Museum is doing a special on California Music. I know that Joey would like it, and from the online review I read, the Art Museum also has a big exhibit of natural photography, maybe he'd like that too.”

“That sounds very nice,” Teresa says, nodding. “Maybe sometime, I'd like to go too, but not today. It would be nice to have some private time with the woman who has captured my son's heart and has my daughter calling her sister. You are far from the guera loca that Maria teased Joey about you being before meeting you.”

“Guera loca?”

“Crazy blond, or hot tempered blond. It's Mexican slang. Don't worry, Maria was joking with Joey the whole time with that. But I would like to spend some time with you if you don't mind.”

“I'd like that, Teresa. Maybe we can give them another little break, cook dinner together? I'm not very good with recipes, but I can chop and mix and slice just fine if I have a good mentor.”

“I would like that very much. I can teach you how to make jibaritos, Joey has never gotten the plantains down correctly. And I'd like to speak some Spanish with you, I feel like it's going to be important in the future for us.”

After Maria and Joey wake up, they are willing to go with me to the museum, although I can tell that Joey's legs are still in serious pain. He walks like an old man as we cross the parking lot at the museum, his hand on his right hip as he groans, using the wheelchair ramp to the door. The walk pulls Maria out of her bad mood a little, and she smirks as we wait for him at the top of the steps. “Just what all did he do yesterday?”

“Timed leg press sets,” I explain. “He took six big plates and put them on the machine, then used a timer set to thirty seconds that kept repeating. He'd do thirty seconds of leg presses, then rest thirty seconds, then repeats. Basically, he fried everything, and that was before all the other stuff we did. Low back extensions, hamstring curls, in other words, he killed everything from the waist down.”

“Everything? Shame on you,” Maria teases, and I smile, seeing a bit of her deeply hidden sauciness come back. “Andrea... thanks.”

“You're welcome,” I tell her, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “Come on, let's help Joey, so he doesn't need a wheelchair to get around.”

“I heard that,” Joey grumbles, but despite the pain, I can see that he's happier to see Maria smiling a little bit as we go into the museum. It's fifteen of my last twenty dollars in 'my' name, but I don't mind as we go in, taking a flyer as we go.

“The history of music in California,” I read, handing it over to Joey. “See anything that might be interesting?”

Joey's eyes gleam as he reads, and we head into the big display hall. I had thought that the exhibit would be mostly a lot of old images or a few artifacts, kind of a pumped up Hard Rock Cafe, but instead, I'm pleasantly surprised to find that while there's plenty here to look at, there's just as much to listen to. There are at least a hundred different stations of headphones around the exhibit, each of them playing recordings on a loop of different sounds, different genres that have come out of California, and sometimes famous artists. Joey's quickly enraptured by the different sounds, giving Maria and me little insights on what makes each of the recordings unique and special.

Of course, we tend to listen more to the rock sounds, with Joey even air guitaring some of the different tunes for us while Maria and I listen in, impressing both of us with how quickly he adapts to the loops.

“Whoa, I didn't know Metallica was from Southern California,” I note as Joey fingers his way through Master of Puppets. “I seriously thought they were European or something.”

“Metal's been a European thing for about twenty years now,” Joey says, pulling the headphones off and setting them back, “but yeah, thrash metal started mostly here in California. Man, this place is awesome, I've gotta get Rocky to come down here with Cora. He'd be a kid in a candy store.”

“And you?” I ask, smiling. “It seems to me that you've air guitared about twenty different songs. Your forearms are pumped right now.”

Joey smiles, nodding. “Rocky's just so much more into music theory and history than I am. But yeah... it's just what I needed. Thanks, beautiful.”

“You're welcome,” I say, giving him a hug just as Maria comes over, hopping up and down.

“Hey guys, guess what's over on the other side of the room!” she says, pointing. “It's Brown Boy!”

“Who?” I whisper to Joey, who chuckles and leans back in.

“He's a Chicano rapper originally from Mexico City who moved to Los Angeles a few years back. Maria's liked him for a while now. Let's go say hi, maybe you can score an interview for your blog,” Joey whispers back. We go over, where Maria tries but fails to contain her excitement.

“Oh, my God, I'm like such a big fan!” Maria giggles, trying to shake his hand. Brown Boy smiles and shakes, listening as Maria babbles for a minute so quickly that even I can't understand her. Finally, he tilts his head, holding up a hand.

“Lo sentimos, pero no sé lo que estás diciendo. Te importaría desaceleración? Ah... slow down please?”

Maria blushes, and stops, looking at Joey who laughs. “Sorry, my sister gets excited. I'm Joey Rivera, this is my sister, Maria and my girlfriend, Andrea. Nice to meet you.”

“Joey Rivera?” Brown Boy asks in heavy accented English pronunciation, then his face brightens. “Los Fragmentos?”

“That's me,” Joey admits, shaking hands. “You know our work?”

“Yes, my sister like you very much. She will be muy triste you have a girl. Nice to meet you though.”

The conversation continues, Joey helping me with translation from time to time as we exchange information. Maria switches totally to Spanish, her voice lilting and musical, and even Brown Boy is smiling when Maria goes on for a minute, she sounds so sweet and innocent. I even get a promise for an interview with him after Joey explains the purpose of my website and blog, confident that if anything I can get Maria to act as translator for us. After we say our goodbyes, Maria's practically glowing, and that more than anything helps Joey as we finish up the exhibit, heading out to the car.

When we get close to the exit, Joey stops, putting a hand on our shoulders. “Wait a minute, guys.”

“What's wrong?” I ask, and Joey turns, pretending to be interested in a piece of artwork in the corridor. We turn, and while we're turned he points with his right hand held against his body.

“That guy, over by the poster for the music exhibit, I think I've seen him before,” Joey whispers. “He looks like the guy I chased out of the parking lot yesterday at Gashouse. The one I told you about who was poking around and taking pictures of the cars?”

“Jesus,” Maria whispers, fear in her voice. “How'd he get here?”

Joey shakes his head slightly, still studying the art in front of us. “I don't know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Still, isn't there a back door to this place?”

I look at the museum guide, nodding. “Yeah, over on the other side of the place. It says employee exit, but I bet if we say that a famous rock guitarist is being perved on by an obsessed fan, they'd let us slip out. What do you say?”

Joey gives me a tight grin, nodding. “I always knew you were smart. Devious, too? Sexy as hell.”

“Get a room, you two,” Maria jokes, her fears assuaged for a little bit. “Oh, wait. You've got one. A whole garage.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, we can loop through the exhibit and try to make sure he doesn't follow us,” Joey says, leading us away. As he does, he raises his voice. “No Maria, I'm serious, I am sure that was Ritchie Valens' actual guitar, not a fake!”

Maria catches on, giving me a wink. “No way, that went down on the plane with him!”

We loop through the exhibit, ducking out the side exit without being stopped, the sunshine feeling wonderfully freeing as we step outside on the other side of the museum. “So, what now?”

Joey thinks, then points to a park across the street. “Now, we chill. If he was trying to follow us, I don't want him thinking we knew about him and got spooked. So, let's kill some time. What do you want to do?”

“Hey guys, I'm starving, as weird as that sounds. Joey, do you mind if we go eat soon?” Maria asks as we cross the street to the park. “I promise, nothing too expensive.”

“Sure,” Joey says. “What do you want?”

“How about the food truck over there?” Maria asks. “We can enjoy the park after that.”

“Sure. Here, take forty and get whatever you think we'll like,” Joey says, peeling off the money for Maria and handing it over without a care. Maria squeals and runs off across the park's parking lot, Joey watching her before putting an arm around my shoulder. “Thank you, love. You broke our bad mood perfectly.”

“And you handled the creepy guy perfectly. Besides, I just wanted you two to feel better. I love you both. Joey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, it'll take Maria a while to get the food,” Joey says. He's a little less stiff as we go climb the steps that lead to the park, but he's still slower than normal, and we pause at the top, sitting down on the concrete steps. “Remind me, no more dumbass workouts like yesterday. Or at least none without a hot tub and a rub down from you.”

“Rubbing you down was exactly what was on my mind last night,” I joke, rubbing his knee. “But you were in too much pain to do much more than lay there in bed. But I was wondering, that talk with Brown Boy, it got me thinking.”

“What's that?”

“Well… where do you see yourself in five or ten years? The idea's been on my mind a lot recently.”

Joey hums, thinking. “Honestly? I like where I am career wise. I don't want to be a solo act, I like Ian and Rocky even if I appreciate the little side project that Cora recorded. They're family to me. We're doing what we do best, make good music. Is it always going to be pure rock? Probably not, but I'm fine with that too.”

“I can tell,” I reply, leaning against him. “You spent just as much time listening and jamming to the other stuff as the rock.”

“I know. So, what about you? Where do you want to be in five or ten years, career-wise?”

I shake my head, taking Joey's hand. “That's hard for me to figure out, Joey. I mean, two months ago I was totally single, and comfortable, if not exactly happy in my job. My biggest worries were telling Chad off and trying to get out from under my father's thumb. Then a month ago I meet you, and it has been very West Side Story in some regards. I've never imagined that I would fall in love with someone so hard, so fast.”

“Do you want to slow down?” Joey asks. “I know that living in my house makes things weird to some people. I bet if you asked, Rocky and Cora would be willing to let you crash in their spare room. Hell, Rocky's mom would probably let you sleep in his old bedroom if you wanted.”

I shake my head, smiling at his sweetness. “No, actually I've never been happier in that regard. Every day, spending time with you, with Maria, with Teresa, and Angel, I'm discovering new depths to the meanings of the words family and love. But when it comes to my work, I've been torn.”

“How so?”

“On one hand Joey, every day I feel afraid. I'm afraid that my blog is going to fail, that my reader list is going to be in the single digits and nobody's going to give two craps about what I have to say. I worry that I wasted the hundred and ninety-nine dollars that I spent to get the upgraded user interface and server size for hosting my site. But then I think of all the freedom I've had the past couple of weeks since moving in with you. And I don't mean anybody bugging me about when to get out of bed, but the freedom to tell the stories that I want to tell. To be able to make some connections, to stand on my own. Before I was ANDREA COATES, put it in bold if you want. Now, I'm Andrea, and that feels good.”

“What about the Coates part?” Joey asks, and I can hear a bit of nervousness in his voice.

“It's my name, but nothing more really,” I reply. “I'll use it to maybe help open doors, but I want to stand on my own, to be my own woman.”

“Stand on your own?” Joey asks. “And if someone, say, wanted you to stand with him?”

I glance over at Joey, who's looking more nervous than ever, and I squeeze his arm. “Joey, are you asking if I want to stand without you?”

“I guess I'm just asking if you'd like to…” Joey says before Maria interrupts us, bringing over two paper bags of food.

“Come on guys, I found this great spot we can sit down and I bet you can see the whole city from the picnic tables!” she says, grinning. “It'll be great!”

She walks away again, and I look back to Joey, who's using the handrail to pull himself up. “Joey?”

“Never mind, I was just being silly,” Joey says, shaking his head. “Come on, let's eat lunch.”

“Wait,” I say, putting my hand on his arm and stopping him. I look up into his eyes and give him a hug. “Joey, I love you. I love you, and I love living with you. And I love your family. Okay?”

Joey looks into my eyes for a moment, then nods, smiling. “Okay. I guess that answers what I was going to ask you. Come on, let's go eat before Maria noshes it all.”

* * *

Welcome to Andrea Loves Rock Cocks! Home of the music's world's biggest, dirtiest slut!

This isn't what I put on my website, and as I read the text, my face gets hotter and hotter as I try and figure out who the hell would do this to me. Check that, I know who did this to me, or at least I can narrow it down to one of two people who hired whoever did this to me.

“Chad,” I grumble under my breath, trying to log into my administrative panel. My password fails, and I blink, pissed. “What the fuck?”

Maria comes in, looking over my shoulder at the mess that's been made of my blog page. “Damn... you've been hacked.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” I sigh. “Glad I never did that sex tape the guy who I think hacked me wanted to do. But I can't get into my admin panel to fix it.”

“Whoever hacked you probably changed your password,” Maria notes. “At least, that's what I'd do if I got access to your system. I had a customer whose smartphone was ganked, she said that whoever did it changed her PIN code to totally fuck with it for her. She had to go to her service provider with like, five different pieces of ID just to get them to blank the whole thing and reset the PIN for her. Does your site host do the same thing?”

“I don't know, I can give them a call,” I say, reaching for my phone. “Thanks for the idea.”

“I want to help you interview Brown Boy, I figure the best way to do that is to help you get this site fixed,” Maria says with a smile. “Thank you, it was fun today.”

“You bought the food, so thank you,” I quip back. “Now, pass my apologies along to Teresa, I said I'd help her cook dinner, but...”

“But you've got a website to de-hack,” Maria finishes for me. “No worries, hermosa. I'll make sure if it takes a long time to get with the site guys, we'll keep something ready for you.”

'A long time' ends up being two hours as I call my website host, go through three levels of administration, waiting on hold each time as they wait to get their supervisor, each time giving my security information. At the third one, I finally lose my temper a little. “Listen buddy, I've been on hold with you guys for forty-five out of the last sixty minutes, and for most of the time I've been talking with your company, I've been recounting my name, my birth date, the phone number I used to register my site, and my security question, which by the way, again, the answer is Hawkgirl. Now, are you going to get your supervisor and risk my wrath, or are you going to actually help me fix my damn website?!”

Joey comes into the living room, chuckling as he sets a bowl of rice with some sort of gravy and vegetables down next to my laptop. “Risk my wrath?”

I chuckle, okay that was a bit over the top, and I cover up the mouthpiece on my phone and shrug. “Hawkgirl was my favorite cartoon character growing up, she kicked ass in Justice League. She tended to talk in that sort of language, so it put me in the same mood. Now... oh, you're back? You're going to reset my admin password. Okay, that's a start, now stay here and walk with me through resetting all my pages.”

I can't just reset my website, apparently, my cache was totally shredded by the hackers, whoever did it knew what they were doing. Thankfully I'd saved most my work as documents that I can cut and paste from. Joey sits on the end of the sofa, watching me quietly as I work furiously, copying and pasting my pages back together from data saved on my laptop.

“Remind me, I've got to get an external hard drive to save information if my host isn't going to keep this better,” I mutter to thin air, but Joey just hums, taking out his phone and typing away for a moment before putting it away. “And I might want to get a better host.”

“I understand,” Joey replies, typing on his phone again. My comment frightens Keith, the website server host on speaker who's been on the phone with me, and he squeaks.

“Miss Coates, please, we don't need to be hasty. Here, I'm adding in our Platinum Protection Plan to your website free of charge for the rest of the year. It has a couple of nice features that will allow you to prevent this in the future.”

“Like what?” I ask as I keep cutting and pasting, the main page is almost complete now.

“Eternal page memory for one,” Keith says as he gives me the details.

“There's a chance you might keep my site then, Keith,” I growl, finishing my home page. Great, now on to my biography page, which currently has several crude personal attacks. “If I need to call back, I'll ask just for you.”

I hang up and get back to work, going over every aspect of my site. Joey just stays by me the whole time, reading to Angel when it's time for him to get ready for bed, but other than that not interrupting me as the hours drag on.

The hard part is that, while I have a lot of my work saved as documents, there's still stuff I have to retype from memory. My biography and contact info have to be re-done. However, this time I take the time to save them as documents before I upload them. The clock in the kitchen chimes midnight softly when I finally get things uploaded, and I start the double checking everything, making sure all the pages are working, my hotlinks go where I want them to go, that my layout is exactly like I want it to be.

“Thankfully, my videos are hosted on YouTube under a different password,” I say to nobody, seeing that my interview with Ian is still untouched, although the comments section's become a total cesspool. I delete and disable comments on all my videos until this is figured out, then re-launch my website.

“There,” I huff, leaning back. My eyes burn, and my lower back is killing me from sitting hunched over for so long, the living room coffee table is just a few inches too short for me to sit comfortably. “Now let's double check social media.”

My Instagram is good, I'd made sure to list all my things as comments restricted, but Facebook's a total quagmire. The hackers were smart, instead of spamming my actual page they spammed each of my posts. Now, I have to go through each of the posts one by one, editing and deleting them as I go. It's nearly two by the time I get it locked down again, and I stretch my shoulders both popping. I look around, and see that Joey's stayed by my side, a book in his hands as his head's fallen back, snoring lightly in the light that the lamp next to the sofa throws.

I watch him quietly, moved by his dedication, and at the same time, I'm pissed off, not at him but at the situation. After the time at the museum, and the way things went last night at the Marine Corps Ball, all I've wanted is to find some private time with Joey, to make love with him again. Instead, we got home at two or three in the morning, crashed, and now it's two in the morning again, and I can barely keep my eyes open.

Still, I need him this morning, even if we can't make love. I shake Joey's shoulder gently, and he moans before his eyes flutter open, and the first thing he does is smile. “Finished?”

I nod, yawning before smiling. “Just now. I'm sorry I wrecked our evening.”

Joey shakes his head and sits up. “It's okay. So, what now?”

I bite my lip and take his hand. “Can I... can I sleep with you? Not sex, just sleep?”

Joey nods sleepily, getting to his feet and leading me to the garage. The heating sucks here, and even though it's Southern California, at two in the morning the garage is chilly here a week before Thanksgiving, but that's okay. The bed is soft and the blanket is thick, and when Joey gathers me into his arms, both of us still in our t-shirts and clothes from earlier, the warmth of his arms and body comforts me as I drift off to sleep.

Joey

Waking up, I'm in a fantasy world again, feeling Andrea snuggled against me. She's snoring lightly, her head resting on my arm as she sleeps deeply. I let her sleep, taking my arm out carefully and whispering in her ear when she groans and shifts around, her hands reaching for me. “I'll be back in a moment, I just gotta pee.”

“Mmm-hmmm. Love you,” Andrea mumbles before dropping back off, snoring again even before I cross the room and go into the kitchen. Mama's there, dressed for church, sipping a coffee before she gets ready to leave.

“Good morning, Joey,” she says softly as I close the door. “Did Andrea finish her website repairs?”

“Yes, Mama. It took her until about two in the morning though. I thought I'd let her sleep more.” I feel weird that Andrea slept in my room, but at the same time, I don't. It's where she belongs if that's where she wants to be. Mama sips her coffee, and I leave the kitchen to go use the toilet, coming back just as she finishes her cup.

“I'm going to go to Mass, Maria is taking Angel with her to a babysitting job. Apparently, someone has tickets to the Rams game today.”

I nod, reaching out to hug Mama. “Okay, Mama. When you get back, how about we work on the last of the paperwork together? There can't be much left.”

“Just some of the last of the inspection papers. With the changes we made to the garage, I need to update some of that,” Mama says. “You're a good boy. Enjoy your time with Andrea, I hope she sleeps well. And I was thinking, if she'd like, maybe it would be okay if she shares your room? We can use that back bedroom as a full-time office then. Or maybe Angel would like his own room instead of sharing with Maria all the time.”

I nod, hugging Mama tighter. “You're a wonderful woman, Mama. We'll see what Andrea wants to do.”

Mama leaves for church, and I check in on Andrea, who's still sleeping peacefully. I want to go to her, but I know if I do I'll probably wake her up, and she needs rest. Instead, I leave the door open and turn around, going to the kitchen where I find the flour, baking powder and butter, and I start making biscuits. I don't get a chance to make these often, my family normally eats Puerto Rican or Mexican food, but for some reason, I'm motivated to make buttermilk biscuits for Andrea. While they're baking, I can mix up some sausage gravy, I know I have some good sausage in the fridge right now.

I feel good kneading the dough, working in the chilled butter chunks, putting the cut pieces of butter back into the fridge to stay firm while I work them in piece by piece. When I'm done, I roll the whole thing out to an even piece and use a knife to cut the dough into six roughly equal rectangles. Not quite good enough for a restaurant, but it should taste good.

I hear Andrea stir just as I get the sausage going, the fat rendering out so that I can mix it into a good gravy, taking the time to mix the pork fat with another chunk of butter before making a roux base with some flour, then adding milk. It's better with cream, but I just need to reduce the gravy down longer to make it thick enough. Just as I turn the heat down to low to let the gravy do its magic on its own, I feel a set of gentle, loving hands wrap around my chest and a warm head on my back. “Are you making me breakfast in bed?”

“Only if you go back to bed,” I joke, Andrea, hugging me tighter. “Or not.”

“Thank you. I love you, and last night, staying up with me while I was going nuts... you're amazing.”

I push away from the stove and turn around, hugging Andrea closely. “You're amazing. By the way, Mama was wondering if you'd like to share bedrooms with me, she says that your room might be better for Angel to have his own space.”

Andrea smiles, purring. “And what do you say?”

“I say that waking up this morning, I could see the future. Many, many mornings with you right where you were, snoring the way you were.”

Andrea stands up on her tiptoes and kisses me, her tongue sneaking out to taste my lips and I open up to her, pulling her closer. We both wanted to last night, I'm sure of it, and now we've got the whole house to ourselves, and we're well-rested. I reach back and fumble for the stove and oven controls, Andrea letting go when she realizes I could hurt myself. “I'll just turn it all off. The biscuits can finish cooking and stay warm right where they are, and I can finish the gravy off later.”

I take Andrea by the hand, leading her back into the bedroom where we kiss again, hungrier now for more than biscuits and gravy. I lift her shirt up, slipping my hand underneath her bra to massage her breast even as she massages my cock through the light sweatpants I changed into last night. “Joey... mi amor...”

“You're sexy when you speak Spanish,” I tease, lifting her shirt up. She raises her arms over her head and I pull it the rest of the way off, devouring her beautiful breasts as soon as they're free and open to my eyes. I love her nipples, the way they grow tight and hard under my tongue and the sounds she makes when I suck hard, biting gently and licking the tangy taste of last night's sweat and essence from her skin. We fall onto the bed, our arms wrapped around each other as I keep licking, reaching for the button on her jeans to push them down her legs.

When I start to kiss down her body to her stomach, ready and willing to lick her tender pussy, Andrea shakes her head, grabbing my hair. “No, Joey. Not this time. I have something special in mind.”

“What?” I ask, seeing the gleam in her eyes. She's turned on, and she's feeling friskier than I've ever seen her, it's powerful and beautiful.

“Go into the kitchen, get the little bottle of olive oil and a dishtowel. Come back while I get ready, and I'll tell you,” Andrea says, smiling. “I promise, it'll be fun.”

I nod and get up, my cock making my sweats stick out ridiculously, but I don't really care as I walk into the kitchen and get the olive oil. I wonder what she wants it for? A massage? Sexy, I could spend hours just rubbing the golden oil into her flawless skin, but from the naughty look on her face, I don't think that's what she has in mind. I turn and go back to the garage, stopping when I see Andrea on her hands and knees, her ass in the air, smiling over her shoulder at me. “Andrea?”

“Can I tell you a story? Chad.... when he got me drunk, he got me to do some pretty freaky things. And I hated them. Not because of how they made me feel, but because of who I was doing them with. Joey, I want to feel pure about it all, and I want to give everything to you. So, I'm wondering... I believe the word is culo?”

I nod, shocked. It's not that I haven't ever wanted to, and Andrea's ass is amazing, but I'm... “My love, I'm a virgin in this.”

Andrea smiles and sits back, showing me just her back as she turns around, her breasts caught between her arms as she folds her hands in her lap and looks at me with love and devotion on her face. “Then I need to ask properly, don't I? Joey... I love you, and I want to give everything I have, everything I am to you. It would be a great honor to me if you would let me give this to you.”

I go over to the bed and kneel, kissing Andrea's plump lips. “Andrea, I love you too, with all my heart and soul. And if this gives you pleasure, I have only one request. I want to look in your eyes and have you on your back when I do this.”

Andrea smiles and shifts, laying back down and spreading her long, beautiful legs, her pussy gleaming with arousal as she shows herself to me. She raises her hips a little, and I can see the pink puckered bud of her asshole, inviting and so impossibly tight. How am I supposed to fit my cock in there, won't I tear her open or hurt her? Andrea seems to read my mind and takes my hand, putting it on the warm lips of her pussy and gasping lightly.

“You won't hurt me, Joey. First, take a little bit of oil and rub in around there, while my fingers take care of my pussy. It'll help relax me, and when you're ready, just slip a finger inside.”

I nod, uncapping the olive oil and drizzling a little on the cleft of Andrea's pussy, watching as it trickles over her skin. Andrea smiles, rubbing it around her pussy until her lips gleam and she's moaning softly, the oil running deeper between her legs to dip into her ass crack. I reach down, running my fingers over this most taboo of areas, shocked at the smile that spreads on her face as my middle finger finds her hole and I start rubbing. She mewls like a kitten, her hips shimmying as I rub carefully, putting slightly more pressure as I feel her relax, and suddenly the tip of my finger slips in, and I stop, surprised at how easy it was. Andrea was right, this is fun. Sexy and intimate and fun.

“A good start, my love. Now, just like if you were fingering me, go nice and slow, adding oil when I start to feel a little dry or tight. Remember, there's no such thing as too much oil right now,” Andrea moans, her fingers still rubbing her pussy, a blush starting on her chest and working up her neck as I slide in deeper until I'm fully finger-fucking her ass, her eyes rolling up as she clenches around my finger and I realize she's coming on my finger. “Joey... oh God yes.... mmmm, you're a natural at this.”

When she loosens up a little I add my ring finger, her breath catching at first but I remember what she said, going slow until her ass relaxes enough and I slide in, filling her even more until both of my fingers are deep in her ass, pumping in and out slowly. My cock is hard as steel at how naughty this feels and I lean down, kissing Andrea's upturned lips as her lust-drunk eyes look into mine, she's so lost in what I'm doing. “I love you, Andrea.”

“I love you... please Joey, I need your cock,” she moans, biting her lip as her body starts to clench again. I watch in amazement as she comes a second time, the flush in her chest turning deep pink and her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she opens them again, looking me in the eyes. “Please... one more time, with you inside me. Fill me with your cock.”

I nod, taking my fingers out and realizing what the dishtowel was for. I wipe my fingers clean and push my sweatpants off, my cock already oozing precum as I lube it up with the olive oil and get myself ready. Andrea's asshole has slipped mostly closed, but her fingers haven't stopped at all as I push her knees farther back towards her shoulders, bringing her ass better into alignment with me. “Andrea... are you ready?”

She nods, still smiling as I start to push. Her ass resists at first, and I'm worried I'm hurting her when suddenly her asshole relaxes again and I slide in, the head of my cock gripped tightly by the tight ring of her muscle. Andrea nods and I push in deeper, my cock gripped in a tight warm embrace it's never felt before. “What do you think?”

“I think you're perfect,” I whisper, relishing the feeling of my cock sinking into Andrea's tight, heavenly ass. I add a little more olive oil as I pull back, pushing in one more time to the hottest, most mind-blowing feeling in my life as her ass encircles my cock with the sexiest, kinkiest sensation I could imagine. “Andrea... my love...”

“Take me, Joey. I'm yours,” Andrea moans, her fingers not stopping as I start thrusting in and out of her ass. I can't believe it, this is the most beautiful, hottest woman I've ever known and I'm all the way into her ass, a fantasy that I've never imagined would happen. Andrea's perfect, intelligent, and smart, strong, tender, and loving, but also showing me a naughty, kinky side of her that stirs the deepest animal instincts inside me. She's whispering dirty, naughty things as my cock spreads her ass open over and over, the image of our glistening skin burning my brain it's so hot. I've never been this hard and I'm just thrusting faster and harder, my balls aching with the load that's building inside me.

I pound her ass, my hips slapping into her over and over while I consider Andrea's beautiful face, she's loving every shock, every inch of my cock going deep into her ass and back out, rubbing her pussy the whole time until we're both gasping, groaning with every stroke, we're both ready to come soon. “Yeah... Joey, that's it, fuck my tight little asshole.... oh papi....”

Her use of Spanish turns me on even more and I kiss her hard, my cock hammering her ass as I go over the edge, slamming into her so hard I hear both of us crying out, Andrea biting my lip while we both come, her ass clamping on the base of my cock and squeezing it painfully as I fill her with my hot cream, fully in this instant.

When she lets go, we're both smiling, Andrea purring happily. “Three times. You made me come three times. I owe you two.”

“You don't need to,” I reply, tasting blood on my lip. I lick it away, smiling. “That was better than I ever imagined.”

“Oh, I do owe you, Joey. But we should get cleaned up, that's the one bad thing about this. Cleanup. Thankfully the washing machine's in here.”

I laugh softly and kiss her lips again. “Go get showered, I'm sure that helps too, I'll strip the bed and start the laundry before joining you.”

“Si, Papi. I love you.”

I growl lightly and feel my cock twitch, still in her ass but softening. “Keep calling me Papi, and you may not be able to handle what you get.”

I pull out of Andrea and she gets off the bed, the dishtowel between her legs to make sure she doesn't cause a mess. At the door she pauses, looking back at me with a naughty smile. “I love you... Papi.”

* * *

Mama clicks the box, and I read over her shoulder as I look at the printout one more time. “Okay, so you updated the structural drawings?”

“Yes. Scanned and uploaded.”

“You have the contractor's certificate?”

“Scanned and uploaded.”

“Your PDF form?”

“Submitted.”

“A partridge in a pear tree?”

Mama smiles at my joke, leaning back in her chair. “Not until Christmas, hijo. But if you want, maybe we can get one.”

I smile, patting Mama on the shoulder. “I think we're good, Mama. Let's print out everything for your file folders, and we just have to wait for the men from the fire station down the street and the city inspectors to give us a call.”

Mama sighs, smiling and stretching. “Thank you, Joey. I know you must be tired of dealing with women and our Internet problems.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Mama, I love all of you. So, no, I don't mind helping you out with your issues.”

We're alone in the back room, while in the backyard I can see Maria and Andrea playing with Angel, who's still got plenty of energy after the babysitting job. Apparently, Maria's clients decided to 'treat' Angel with two stadium-sized churros. Just what a four-year-old needs, half a pound of fried dough and cinnamon sugar. So yeah, he's wired, and I'm glad they're playing outside with him in the fading evening light.

Mama turns and watches too while the printer starts spitting out paper, patting my shoulder. “Have I told you again today that I think Andrea is a fine young woman?”

“I know, Mama,” I reply, watching. I swallow, looking outside. “Mama.... what would you say if I told you I've started to think about Andrea as... well, I'm wondering if she'd become mi esposa?”

“Married, huh?” Mama asks, nodding. “What is stopping you from asking her now? You love her, she loves you.”

“I'm not sure,” I admit, watching. “Everything she does, everything she is, she feels perfect for me. I guess I'm waiting on a couple of things. One, I want to make sure that I'm not just caught up in the momentum, what with Rocky's wedding, the holidays, all of that. I don't want this to be a short-term thing for her, even though we've... well, never mind Mama. You don't want to know. And second, I don't want to freak her out, think we're rushing things. Aren't we supposed to, I don't know, take it slow?”

“Probably, but that's okay, Joey. My question is, do you truly love her? With the same sort of love that I still feel for Tomás?”

I nod, blinking as I watch her and Maria talk. “I do, Mama. But what about you? What about Maria and Angel? Who's going to be the man of the house when I'm not here?”

“We'll get by the same way that we got by the past three tours,” Mama says with a laugh. “Joey, we're not helpless. You've taken good care of your family, but that doesn't mean you have to sacrifice your future happiness to give Maria and me a roof over our heads.”

I laugh, nodding. “Okay Mama, we'll see how it goes. In the meantime, I have a plan to handle problem number two.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“Make enough money as a guitarist that I can buy a ten-bedroom mansion. Then you and Maria can each have your own wing of a house, all to yourselves if you want.”

Mama laughs and kisses my cheek, giving me a hug. “Te amo, hijo.”

“Te ama, Mama.”

I hug Mama until there's a loud knock at the door. “Hmm... wonder who that could be?”

Andrea

Watching Angel charge after the soccer ball that I just kicked across the wide yard, I feel an instinct building inside me that I didn't think would kick in for another few years. I wonder what it would be like to have a child of my own, and even though I know Maria has struggled as a teen mother, she looks happy as we watch her try to get the ball back. “Don't you feel bad that we're basically playing fetch with your son?”

“What do you mean?” Maria asks, kicking the ball after Angel brings it close enough, sending him running towards another far corner of the back yard. “He likes chasing the ball, it gets him running, and we're enjoying ourselves. What is there to feel bad about?”

“Good point,” I counter, kicking the next ball. “So how was babysitting?”

“Good, but I am looking forward to being open here instead. I'm getting enough of a client base now, that sometimes both Mama and I are at different houses, and I know I'm passing up clients. Unless I can talk you into doing babysitting for me too. What do you say, I can give you ten dollars an hour?”

I laugh, nodding. “Tell you what, keep me as an emergency third option, and I'll take it. But only if Teresa promises to teach me cooking. She was supposed to the other day but... well, you saw what happened to my website.”

“Your website comes first,” Maria says, kicking the ball. Angel's tiring from this game, and he doesn't chase the ball as hard, going instead over to the strider type bike that he has to roll around the yard on that. “I totally get that.”

I shake my head, thinking about the feelings going through me since this morning. My ass is still pleasantly sore, Joey was strong but not too rough, and honestly, it's the best anal sex I've ever had. Still, I'm not planning on doing any hard running until tomorrow at least... but if Joey wants it again, I'd let him back in my ass in a heartbeat. But the soreness has been a constant reminder of the other feelings I've had, the ones that have nothing to do with just the sexual release I had this morning. “I'm not so sure anymore, Maria. I think... well, I'm wondering if maybe Joey's supposed to come first to me.”

Maria stops in mid stride over to Angel's play area, giving me a deep look. “You are his one, aren't you?”

“Cora said the same thing when she first met me. What do you mean?”

“You're his perfect equal,” Maria says with a soft smile, so much like Teresa's it's easy to see their relationship. “Cora and I talked about it back when she and I got to know each other. Joey's a giver, a strong man, and someone who will devote himself fully to whatever and whoever he feels he should. The only woman who would be right for him is a woman who is just as much of a giver, a woman who is just as strong, and a woman who would give up any and everything to be with him. Because he'd give up everything to be with you.”

I blink, swallowing. “Yeah, something like that. Even though sometimes I feel like all I do is take from him. Part of being a giver means I can't ask Joey to give up everything.”

“Which is what makes you perfect for him. You know you could ask him. You could go in there right now and demand he gives up the Fragments, that he give up me and Mama and Angel... and I think he would, Andrea. For you, he would. You're his one, the one woman who can be both strong enough to resist the urge to demand everything from him since he's so wonderful and strong enough to share that wonderfulness with the rest of the world.”

I grab Maria and give her a hug, squeezing her tight. “Thank you. I love you, Maria.”

Maria hugs me back, then smacks my butt which makes me yelp. “That's a warning. Told you before, I'll tell you again. Don't hurt him, Andrea.”

“You know I won't! Ouch!”

Maria chuckles, her eyes full of knowing. “I may be a teen mother who's too busy to date often, I may be a survivor of... well, you know. But I'm also a Catholic girl who has had times when the Holy Father's demand that we don't use protection becomes mighty damn difficult. And you're walking funny.”

“You won't tell Teresa?” I ask, rubbing my sore right butt cheek. “Please?”

“No problema. I love you too. Don't tell Joey? He thinks I'm still more innocent than he is.”

We watch Angel, who's loving things outside, and I nod. “I promise. Maria... if Joey and I do become permanent, what's that going to do for you and Teresa?”

“What do you mean?” Maria asks. “We can take care of our house, you know.”

“Not that... I mean, the business, this house, all that. Do you want to stay here, see things grow, what do you think?”

Maria crosses her arms, nodding. “Honestly, Andrea? My dream is to open more than a daycare, but to run a small preschool too, maybe ten or fifteen children?”

“So, you want to grow?”

“Like you, I want to stand on my own two feet, Andrea. Joey's generosity and love of family are great... but I'm a woman who can stand up too.”

Angel laughs, swinging from the monkey bars on his play set, and I punch Maria lightly in the shoulder. “First time we met, you said you were a little jealous of me because I might take Joey away from you. But I think you're wrong. I might be his one... but you're his two.”

“True,” Maria acknowledges. “I’m a lucky little sister.”

“He gets two women who love him, a sister and a.... well, we'll see, but I've been thinking about Rocky's wedding later this week.”

Maria grins, she's been excited about the wedding too. “Amazing, isn't it? I'll admit, I had a bit of a crush on Rocky before he and Cora got together. Joey didn't bring Rocky around much, he tried to keep the two sides of his life more separated than he does now, but still... Rocky's a stud, Andrea. I'm happy for Cora though, she's better for Rocky than I'd ever be. And Bella... have you heard Angel say he's going to marry her?”

I laugh, nodding. “Yeah, he's got the wedding bug too it seems.”

Maria shakes her head, her smile fading. “Who knows, Andrea? Between Cora getting through to Rocky, and Joey and you having what you've got, I'm starting to think that maybe there's a guy out there for me. I'd like that, you know. No matter what, you've given me hope. And if you happen to take my brother because of that, I still love you anyway.”

I watch Angel, who lets go of the swinging monkey bar he's clinging to and going up the slide again. “You know Maria, there's going to be a lot of single guys at the wedding. Handsome single guys.”

Maria brightens again, laughing quietly. “Maybe. Any of them that are good enough for me?”

I shake my head, laughing. “Probably not. But if there isn't, you've got me and Joey still. Even if we might need to, you know...”

“Get your own place?” Maria asks. “A place where two young lovers don't have to worry if a mother, sister or nephew is going to walk in on them when they're doing what young lovers do?”

I nod, blushing. “Yeah, something like that.”

Maria laughs. “You're a trip, Andrea. No, it's not a problem for me. I've only got one problem.”

“What's that?”

Maria smiles and sticks out her tongue at me. “My brother's in love with a guera loca.”

“Sin más loco que su hermana,” I reply, making Maria do a double take. “I've been practicing.”

“Muy bien, hermana.” We hear a truck pull up out front, the doors slamming loudly. I glance at Maria, who looks at me worriedly. “You expecting pizza?”

“No,” I reply. I turn to Angel, a sudden sense of dread coming over me. “Angel! Come to your Mommy!”

Angel hears the sharp command in my voice and comes over, his big eyes flaring in worry. Maria also looks at me, worried. “Andrea? What's wrong?”

I shake my head, pointing towards the garage area, wishing we hadn't blocked the back door. “Go through the kitchen, take Angel to the garage and lock the door. I've got a bad feeling about this.”

Maria nods, staying behind me as we go into the living room. Joey and Teresa are coming down the hall from the back bedroom area, Joey's face filled with confusion when someone knocks, this time their fist booming on the front door. Joey's expression changes from confusion to worry. I shield Maria and Angel, pointing towards the garage. “Maria... go!”

Suddenly someone kicks the front door, the wood jamb cracking and the door flying open. The door goes bouncing off the wall in the hallway, and standing there are Chad and my father. Chad's holding a gun, while Dad just... grins.

“Hello, honey. Nice to see you again.”

Joey

When the door goes bouncing off the wall, I immediately grab Mama and pull her behind me, putting myself between whoever it is and her. We're at the edge of the hallway, and I can't see the two people outside, but the look on Andrea's face as she tries to push Maria towards the garage is telling.

“Hello, honey. Nice to see you again,” a smarmy, arrogant voice says, and two men step into the hallway. One of them I can see right away is Darren Coates, he's got the same nose and eyes as Andrea, except that his face is puffy, hidden underneath about an extra thirty or forty pounds of fat that hangs around his weak chin.

The other man is younger, maybe about twenty-five or so, with a big chest and a stomach that's starting to push past it, piggish looking eyes and a young executive type haircut that probably cost as much as the gun in his right hand. I learned some things in high school that wasn't on any exam, including the fact that the man's holding a forty-five, ugly as hell and all business.

“What are you doing?” I yell, trying to take attention from Andrea. I'm too far away to get in front of her, but maybe I can get their attention from her long enough that she can follow Maria, who I can't see right now. It's a strong yell, and part of me wonders where I'm getting this strength from. I should be scared, I should be acting panicked. Instead... I feel calm like we can handle this, and my yell is with a purpose, to get the two men's attention. “Get out of my house!”

“Your house?” Darren asks, turning his smirking, arrogant face towards me. “Chad, whose house is this?”

The other guy, obviously Chad Bronson, snorts, amused. “According to what I found Mr. Coates, this house belonged to Teresa Rivera, but since you just bought the note from the bank... I believe it's yours when you file foreclosure documents with the courts Monday. So, who the fuck is this guy?”

“You can't,” Mama says behind me, her voice quaking in rage. “You people can't do this to my family!”

Mama tries to push past me, but I grab her, trying hard to pull her away and keep her safe. After the way we lost Papa's life insurance to tax mistakes, she's never trusted the government or the rich, the type that she feels swindled us out of the money. Now, she sees it happening again, and she can't handle it. It gives her crazy, demon-like strength, and I'm struggling as hard as I can to keep her away from Darren and Chad. She works an arm free, going to claw at Darren's face when he kicks, his Gucci wingtip catching her in the belly and sending both of us tumbling.

“Gramma! No! Don't hurt my Gramma!” Angel screams, and suddenly he's running past Andrea, covering Mama with his tiny body and crying. “Don't hurt my Gramma!”

“Angel, get back!” I yell, letting go of Mama and grabbing them both, covering them with my body. Mama's gasping, I don't know if she's injured, but she's crying, I don't know if in anger, shame, a mix of both, or what. Angel though... I must protect Angel, and Chad's got a gun.

“What the...?” Chad says, and I turn my head away from Mama and Angel, who's squirming under me, to look back at them. Chad takes a half step away, into the doorway of the kitchen, his pistol lowering. “Nah... no, no, not like this.”

“What are you talking about you pussy?” Darren says, his eyes going wide when he sees Angel's face as he squirms under my arm. “This... this is my house.”

“You never said there'd be a kid here,” Chad says, putting the gun into a holster on his hip. “Guns and kids? No fucking way. Nah.... no way.”

Darren turns to say something, but whatever he wants to say dies on his lips as he looks behind Chad. I look up, getting to my feet slowly as I see Maria, her face different than I've ever seen before, a kitchen knife in her hand as she steps past Andrea, the knife held out at Darren. Darren's eyes go wide as she steps into the light, and it makes sense, hitting me like a punch to the head. The eyes. It was always in the eyes.

Maria's eyes right now are dead black, no emotion in them at all as Darren takes a step away from her. “Hello. My name is Maria Concepcion Rivera. Five and a half years ago, you took my innocence. Now, I take justice.”

“Maria... Maria, don't,” I whisper, stepping in front of her. I hate putting my body between my sister and the man I realize now is her rapist, but she can't be allowed to do this. Again, there's no fear, just a feeling that I must do the right thing, I have to protect Maria from destroying her life, regardless of the risk to me. “Maria, hermanita, this isn't the way. Think of Angel, you don't want to do this in front of him.”

“Chad, what are you waiting for, shoot her before she kills me!” Darren demands, but Chad doesn't move, instead, looking around in a confused panic. It's all too much for him, his mind's overloading. “Shoot her!”

“Wha... what's going on?” Chad says, his face going white as a sheet. “This is wrong, man. Wrong...”

“You have no idea,” I whisper, reaching out and putting my hand over Maria's. If she twists the blade, if she shoves, she could bury it in my body, but she lets me turn her hand away, the blade falling to the entryway door. Angel comes up, hugging his mother's leg and sobbing, and Maria snaps out of her almost trancelike state to hug her son, picking him up and holding him tightly. Darren tries to turn, but the rebound from the kick and all the other ruckus has caused the front door of the house to close, and he hits the wood with his shoulder, too frightened to pull the handle. “Maria... take Angel, go call the police. There will be justice.”

Maria nods, saying nothing as she retreats to the living room, Mama going with her. Chad's still looking like he's in shock, and Andrea's face is written in fury, shame, and anger. I look into her eyes, seeing the green gaze that should have told me the truth the whole time. “How long did you know?”

“Until Maria just said something, I wasn't sure. I was having nightmares though... but to think... my father.... a troller?”

“I was just ordering in!” Darren says pathetically, turning to us and trying to pathetically defend his actions. “I was... they're nothing but poor ghetto trash!”

Chad blinks, the horror dawning on his face as he starts to realize, and he looks at Andrea, swallowing. “Andrea.... is your father....”

“Angel's my half-brother,” Andrea says, stepping past me to confront her father eye to eye. “My father is a predator, not even human. He sickens me, you're a pathetic excuse for life. How many, Darren? How many... Dad?”

“As many as I wanted!” Darren laughs crazily, running his right hand through his hair, his eyes going wild. “Don't you get it? I'm rich! I've got power! I'm the one who has control here, not you, not these lazy pathetic idiots! I'm the one in charge, not that slu...”

Darren's rant against my family and my sister is stopped cleanly as Andrea punches him right in the mouth before kicking him in the nuts. He drops, cradling his balls and screaming in pain, the sound making Chad react, pulling the pistol to point it at us for a moment, before turning to point it at Darren. “Go call the cops,” Chad says softly. “I may be a horrible man... but at least I'm a man. Andrea... I'm sorry.”

“They're already on the way,” Mama says behind me, handing me the phone. “It's 9-1-1, Joey.”

“This is Joey Rivera,” I say into Mama's phone, looking at Darren as he squirms and cradles his balls. “Darren Coates broke into my house and is still inside.”

“Yes, Mr. Rivera. We heard part of the conversation, officers will be there in a few minutes. Is everyone safe?”

I look, but Andrea's backed off, her arms around her body as the full impact of what just happened rolls through her and the adrenaline starts to crash and she sits down on the floor next to me, starting to sob. Chad though, he's still got the pistol on Darren, his eyes not moving from the wounded businessman. “Hurry, please. I'm passing the phone back to my mother. Thank you.”

“You won't get away with this!” Darren wheezes, his face turning red. “Don't you get it? I've got the best law you can have, the golden rule! I have the gold, I make the rules!”

Chad's hand quivers, and suddenly he lowers the gun, reversing it and holding it handle out to me. “Take it. I'm going to shoot him if I keep this thing.”

I take the gun, but don't raise it as Chad kneels, his face attaining some sort of composure. Darren grins, looking up at me as he rolls to a sitting position. “Stay down, Darren. I won't shoot you, but I will beat you down if I have to.”

“Go ahead, you'll be the one in jail, not me,” he laughs. “Don't you get it, there's no proof, you can't pin anything on me.”

“Yes they can,” Chad says, shaking his head. “The exact same thing that my father's trying to get squashed in my case... the DNA. That boy, he's got your DNA in him.”

“And my sister was only fifteen when she gave birth to Angel,” I add. “No matter what Darren... you're going down.”

I see lights flashing outside the house, red and blue flashes that light up the kitchen window in horrible, terrible parodies of a rave to me for some reason. I hear voices approaching, and then someone outside. “This is the police! Is everyone all right?”

I set the pistol down on the ground between my feet and raise my hands. Better safe than sorry. “There's a man on the ground right behind the front door. It's Darren Coates. Please come in.”

* * *

The sun's rising when the last of the news vans pull away from the house, and while I hate it, I understand their desire, and at the same time, a cynical, harsh part of me knows that they will serve a purpose for us. Now, regardless of what else Darren's lawyers try to do, the damage to his reputation will be deep and maybe even permanent. Coates Media might control a lot of stations and papers in the Los Angeles area, but they don't control them all, not by a long shot.

The last cop, a detective from the Ventura County Sheriff's Department, stands with me outside the house as the last van pulls away. “You know Mr. Rivera, we could leave a unit here the rest of the night, keep the tabloids away.”

I shake my head, glancing over my shoulder. The splintered door jamb's the only really noticeable sign of the craziness tonight, everything else is quiet. “No... my family deserves to get some sleep now. We've got a wedding to go to tomorrow, my best friend's getting married.”

The detective nods, shifting from side to side before yawning. He's had a long night as well, most of the patrol units that were here cleared away at midnight with the end of shift and most the reputable newsgroups leaving. Only a few of the vulture tabloid types hung around after that, the detective and his partner chasing one asshole out of my backyard before arresting him for trespassing. “You handled it well if I can offer my opinion. Smart move to put the pistol down before the cops came in, you don't have a permit for that thing.”

“I didn't bring it in the house,” I reply tiredly. “I told that to the other guys.”

“I know. Just saying, cops responding to a gun-involved domestic violence... you handled it better than some of the cops I know. I wouldn't worry, the stuff that I know already, he's got no leg to stand on. Hopefully, the LA County DA or maybe even the FBI leans on him, they've been trying to get a crack in the whole 'trolling' ring for years.”

I nod, exhausted and not really caring. My family is safe, and I need sleep. “Thank you, Detective. Listen, if you don't mind, I'm going to check on my family.”

The detective nods and offers his hand. “Of course. One last thing. I noticed, just by chance you know, the folded flag on your living room. Marine family, right? I don't know who it was, you father, your brother, whoever... but what you did, you handled yourself as bravely as any Marine, and I'm speaking from experience. So, if you need help, Mr. Rivera, give us a call. In the meantime, I'd advise you to try the screen lock and whatever else it is you've got until you can get a repairman out here. Good night.”

“Good morning you mean,” I laugh tiredly as the sun first breaks over the house in front of me. “Thank you again.”

The detective leaves, and I watch him go for a minute before retreating inside, seeing Mama sitting on the couch with Andrea, while Angel and Maria are curled up under blankets right in front of the sofa. “They were both having nightmares, this was the only way to help them stop,” Mama explains in a soft voice. “They're gone?”

I nod, coming around Maria to sit on the floor next to where Andrea's curled up, her eyes haunted. She's sipping coffee, watching Maria and Angel with pain and love in her eyes. “I feel like I owe you all an apology,” she says, struggling to find the words. “When I started having nightmares, I should have put it all together. I should have put it together years before when I saw....”

“You have done nothing wrong,” Mama says, her voice strict but full of love. “You never knew. To expect you as a high school student to recognize from a few comments your mother said a decade before along with a groped ass six years later.... no, Andrea. You did nothing wrong. And I won't let you blame yourself either.”

Andrea's hand quivers, and I take the coffee cup away from her as the first tears start falling, her calm exterior finally starting to crack. I get up, and Mama and I hold her on the couch as Andrea cries, never screaming or sobbing, just crying softly. “I'm sorry... I love you all so much.”

“And we love you,” Mama says quietly. “Now, Andrea... Angel's going to need to learn that he has a sister someday. Not today, not for years to come, but some day. Until then, we do not need to speak about his parentage, outside of any courtrooms. But you are part of this family, Andrea.”

Andrea nods, hugging Mama before turning to me. “Joey...”

I shake my head, pulling her into my lap. “I love you, that's all that counts. We'll figure out the rest later.”

Andrea hugs me back, relaxing into my embrace. I can feel her head grow heavy, and Mama gets up, letting me stretch out my legs and ease myself down into a half laying down position, Andrea stretching out with me. “Mama... you mind if we stay here for a while?”

Mama shakes her head, going to the back long enough to get a few pillows and bringing them out, helping me arrange one behind my head before she lays down on the carpet next to Angel and Maria. Andrea's already starting to breathe deeply, and I shift around a little bit more until I close my eyes and let the darkness give me some comfort.

I wake up hours later, my phone ringing on the table, Andrea still in my arms, but Mama's gotten up, I can hear the shower running in the back of the house, and Angel's shifted around, he's laying with his head on Maria's hip like he used to do sometimes as a baby. I reach out and grab my phone, and see the call's from Ian. Shit, I forgot to tell the guys or James, and they've had to have seen the news by now, it had to have been on both the primetime and the morning news shows since last night. “Ian?”

“You might want to get up, brother,” Ian says. “We'd knock, but we didn't want to startle anyone.”

“What are you talking about, we? Where are you?”

“I'm at your front door outside your screen,” Ian replies, hanging up. I shift around, but Andrea sits up, rubbing at her eyes.

“I heard. Ian?”

I nod, still confused. I check the clock on my phone, it's nearly ten in the morning, and my brain's still fuzzy from everything that's happened. Still, I get up and go to the front door, undoing the chain lock and pulling out the doorstop that I wedged in this morning, the door jamb's too cracked for the deadbolt to work. I open the door and unlock the screen, stepping out to see Ian waiting for me. “Ian, what're you doing here?”

“Checking on our brother,” Ian says, stepping up and swallowing me in an embrace. “You stupid shit, call next time! You had Rocky and me scared half to death!”

Ian picks me up, pounding me on the back as I realize just how much I mean to the giant man. He doesn't show it often, but the saying still waters run deep is totally true in his case, and I hug him back until he sets me down. “Ian, you didn't have to come here and...”

“You mean we didn't,” Cora says from the driveway, and I turn to see her, Rocky, and Bella all leaning against their car, watching with a smile on each of their faces. “Ian got here first, he got to call. James is on the way too, just to let you know. He said he was going to take care of the cancellations, first.”

“What cancellations?” I ask. Behind me, the screen door opens and Andrea comes out, Ian grabbing her in an equally powerful but slightly more tender hug before she can say anything. I cross the front lawn to Rocky, who hugs me slightly less powerfully than Ian, I think my ribs are all still in one piece. “What cancellations?”

“Cancellations are a bit rough... let's say postponement,” Rocky says after he lets go. Cora and Bella go over to hug Andrea, Ian coming over to me and Rocky. “When the news broke last night, Cora and I discussed it, and we're delaying our wedding until after this is calmed down and everything blows over.”

“Rocky, you can't!” I protest. “You've put out so much, there's going to be people, I can handle it all....”

Rocky shakes his head, putting his hand on my shoulder. “No. Joey, we're family. All of us. Can I ask... are the things the tabloids said about Andrea's father true? About... about Maria?”

“Did they release Maria or Angel's name?” I ask, and Rocky shakes his head. “Still... some people will put the two together.”

“Perhaps. But we'll be there for you then, too. She's our hermanita too, bro. And it's not a long delay, just a few days. Cora and I talked, and Ian's on board with it too, we can still get it done in time for his surgery. The wedding's being moved, and we can't do that until after we know a hundred percent that your house has been fixed and your family's ready to travel.”

“Where?” I ask, still fuzzy in the brain. The screen door opens again, and Mama comes out, her hair still wet but she's pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt. Cora and Andrea immediately start talking with her, and I turn back to Rocky and Ian, who are grinning. “What?”

“We were thinking... well, it's a little late in the season, a week before Thanksgiving and all, but what about an early December wedding in the Florida Keys? I'm pretty sure we can find some hotel or another down there that might be able to host a wedding quickly.”

“I think we'd like that very much. But first, how about you guys come inside, have some breakfast or brunch or lunch or whatever with everyone? I'll let you tell Maria herself when she wakes up, her and Angel both,” I say. I look around, feeling something inside me finally let go, a weight lifted off my shoulders for the first time in what feels like... it's been thirteen years. “Come on. Mi familia es su familia.”

“Su familia es nuestra familia,” Rocky says, “en todos.”

My family is our family. I like that.

Andrea

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to celebrate...” the minister says, his voice both dynamic and comforting. I'm barely able to pay attention to what he's saying though, my eyes are fixed on Rocky and Cora as they stand side by side at the beachside altar. It took a lot of scrambling, but after what happened to Joey, once George T heard about it, he called in favors left and right, at no cost at all to Rocky or Cora. All George did was send a bouquet of flowers with a note of congratulations attached.

“They look beautiful,” Teresa whispers, for the first time I've known her not dressed in black but instead in a beautiful aqua bridesmaid dress. Somehow I've ended up the maid of honor while Teresa and Bella are the other members of the bridal party. Maria was invited, but she decided instead to sit with the other guests, watching and taking photos for us all. Across from us on the other side of the altar, Ian, Joey, and James are the groomsmen, with Ian and Joey being dual best men. Angel's adapted to his role as the ring bearer and is standing very proudly next to Joey, the rings on a pillow ready for him to play his part.

“They do, don't they?” I whisper back, glancing over at Joey who gives me a small smile. A week, just a delay of a week, but it's enough time that we're able to start getting back to normal.

“And now, the rings,” the minister says, waiting patiently while Joey has to urge the suddenly shy Angel up to the altar. Angel holds his pillow high above his head, making the small group of twenty or so chuckle fondly while Rocky and Cora exchange rings. The minister blesses the rings, then a final prayer before the kiss... and Cora Clearwater's become Cora Blake.

For the next hour, it's a little dull as Cora and Rocky take care of paperwork, signing the marriage license and changing for the reception. Cora still wore the long heavy dress that she'd originally planned since her mother wanted her to have a 'princess moment,’ and needs to change.

Inside the ballroom, I see the reception band warming up, all five of them looking scared stiff seeing some of the people coming in. I go over to the bar, where Joey's sipping at a fruit juice with Ian, laughing. “Come on man, he did fine! Maria's taking him up to the room to change so he can enjoy the party a little before his bedtime.”

“Is Ian saying something bad about my Angel?” I mock growl, coming up and punching the giant in the shoulder. Ian flinches away while Joey laughs, putting an arm around my shoulders and giving me a hug. “It was a great ceremony.”

“It was,” Ian says quickly, shaking his head. “And I wasn't saying anything except that he's cute and captured a lot of attention, that's all I swear!”

“You better, big boy. Nobody picks on my little brother,” I mock growl, smiling as Joey gives me a juice.

“So, you're going to tell him?” Ian asks unsurely. “I mean, you guys told me, but Teresa said that Angel didn't have to be let in.”

“Four-year-olds hear more than we think sometimes,” Joey says with an ironic chuckle. “We kinda had to talk about it front of him when Angel grabbed Andrea in a big hug the next morning and said he was happy to have a big sister. Apparently, he overheard enough that night, he figured it out. He's actually happy about it, he thinks it's cool that Andrea's his half-sister. We didn't go into the details of how that all happened, that'll come when he's older, but for now, we're trying to handle it.”

Ian hums, nodding. “Cool. Hey, Joey, I'm not trying to cause drama so... at the reception, you mind if I ask your mom and your sister for a dance?”

Joey laughs and drinks more of his fruit juice, nodding. “Go ahead. Maria's too good for your ass though.”

Ian nods in agreement, drinking the rest of his own drink before setting his glass down. I drink half my drink, watching as the room gets set up. “Joey, it might be good if you guys went and talked to the band. They look scared stiff, what with the famous rock stars and music people all around.”

“They do, don't they?” Joey says, laughing. “Hey, Ian, did we ever look that scared before a gig?”

“You mean like you did a month and a half ago? And the night before that, and the night before that?” Ian jokes, the two of them heading off. I watch them, Joey giving me a knee-weakening glance of desire, heading off across the ballroom while I sip my juice. James comes up, grabbing a juice himself, grinning.

“Whaddya say, Andrea?”

I grin clinking glasses with James. “I say it was a great ceremony, James. And I already talked with the professional photog, I'm getting copies of all the pics for the website as well as the stuff Maria took for me. But for the rest of the night, I'm just being myself, not a reporter.”

“That's good, even reporters should take a few hours off,” James says with a happy sigh. “It's gonna suck leaving early though.”

“What do you mean, leaving early?” I ask, somewhat surprised. “Rocky told us that we've got the hotel rooms for the next two days.”

“Yeah, you guys do,” James says with a smile and shrug, “but to do that, I'm going to make sure everything's set up back in L.A. Even Ian's flying back with me, I'm checking him into UCLA Medical Center for the septum surgery tomorrow at eight a.m. Cali time. Rocky and Cora get back from their honeymoon here, and it'll be time to get into swing for the next leg of the tour. You're coming with us, right?”

“That's the plan,” I admit. “I don't know how that'll work for my blog, but the band's website will look awesome. And it'll give me and Joey plenty of time without worrying about Maria or Teresa or Angel walking in on us. They got their license now too, they're going to be opening up just after January first.”

“They'll kick ass,” James says with a smile. “Larry and George T are making sure of it. George is working his network, just to let you know. It’s a secret, though. Let Teresa and Maria be surprised, but they'll have ten kids come January fifteenth.”

I whistle in appreciation, touched. “Thanks, James.”

“Don't thank me. You're going to be too busy for thanks soon. I checked with the lawyers yesterday on that.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, giving him a glance. “I'm planning on spending three months being nothing more than a reporter and girlfriend.”

“And as your father's gotten in trouble, his powers in the Coates Media Group have been suspended. And rule number thirty-nine A of the board rules states that in the event of a board member being arrested on 'egregious charges,' that board member's powers are suspended, and their voting rights transferred to their legal spouse or next of kin. It might be a while, but...”

“Holy shit,” I whisper, downing the rest of my fruit juice. “So... what's that mean?”

James shakes his head. “I don't know, you'll have to talk to a lawyer to be sure. I don't know what all your father might have done paperwork-wise after you two had your falling out. My advice is give them a call when you get back and enjoy your vacation.”

The reception gets started, and everything is great, just like a fantasy. Ian whips up a best man speech that leaves everyone in tears laughing while Joey's moves everyone to tears of happiness as he calls Rocky and Cora his true brother and sister. After the cake-cutting, the dancing starts, the band playing well as Rocky and Cora do their first dance as a couple.

When Joey asks me to dance, I'm happy to take his hand, going out to the dance floor with him as he pulls me close, again the perfect, strong gentleman that I've come to love with all my heart. His hand holds mine just right as he rests a hand on my hip, right where it's supposed to be. “Joey Rivera, don't tell me that you know how to actually dance?”

“Of course. Who do you think danced with Maria for her quinceañera?” he asks with a little smile. “It wasn't much, but Mama insisted, and I was honored to be her first dance. I haven't forgotten all of it. So, you're leading, right?”

I laugh as the music starts, and he leads me off in a perfect waltz, his steps calm and sure, his eyes fixed on mine. This might be Cora and Rocky's wedding, but I feel like a princess right now, and the man holding me is my prince. I feel like there's nobody else on the dance floor as the music continues, my pulse racing far faster than the effort of dancing requires, but because of Joey.

When the music stops, I'm breathless and starry-eyed as Maria comes over, tapping me on the shoulder. “Hermana, may I have this dance with my brother?”

“Of course, hermanita. Joey, thank you,” I respond, bowing slightly to Maria as she whirls off with her brother. I'm nearly moved to tears of laughter when I see out of the corner of my eye Bella and Angel trying to copy them, both of them not doing a very good job of it but still looking cute nonetheless. I sit down at our table near the front while I watch Joey and Maria until Rocky asks me for a dance, and the night continues.

Afterward, Joey and I go up to our room, my heart and body still soaring from the night's events. “What did you think?”

“I told the band they did a great job, I think the keyboard player nearly fainted,” Joey says, laughing lightly. “It was magical, the whole day. What did you think?”

“I think I'd like to make a little more magic if you're feeling up to it,” I purr, reaching down and pinching his butt. It’s hard to pinch, his butt's rock hard with muscle. “What do you say?”

Joey responds by sweeping me off my feet, carrying me towards our room, setting me down only to open the door before picking me back up and laying me on the bed. I laugh, stroking his face, kissing him tenderly. “I guess that's a yes.”

“Yes, my love. I very much want to make love with you tonight.”

I smile, sliding my hand under Joey's jacket to start easing it off his shoulders, taking our time. I kiss him again, loving the taste of his lips on mine. “Joey?”

“Yes, Andrea?”

“I was wondering... what would you say if I stopped taking my birth control pills?”

Joey stops, sitting up a little to look me in the eyes. “Do you want to?”

I nod, shifting over to let him lie down next to me. “I'm not saying we have to have a baby right away, but if we're blessed with one... you're already a tremendous father.”

Joey smiles, brushing a few hairs out of my face and shaking his head. “Guera loca.”

“The craziest. For you.”

Joey

“So where do you want it?” Rocky asks, the box in his hands. “I mean, where do you put a Cloisonné vase anyway?”

I shrug, looking around. “Kitchen table? That's Andrea's, not mine.”

“No shit?” Rocky says sarcastically, heading to the kitchen area. I've got a box of clothes in my hands, and I head towards the master bedroom, setting it down before looking around. Cora's working with Mama setting up the bed, which I think Mama is happy to have out of the garage so that she and Maria can expand their business into that area.

“How're you ladies doing?” I ask.

Cora looks up, grinning over her swelling stomach. A little under two months to go, and she's glowing still. “Doing well, jefe. Thanks for this idea, I didn't want to just sit on my butt all day today.”

“Oh, you're not doing anything Cora, you still get to call in the pizza order,” I joke, Cora, sticking out her tongue. “Mama, are you okay?”

Mama nods, smiling. “That's the third time you've asked me, Joey. I told you, I'm fine. I'm glad that you and Andrea are getting your own house, and the neighborhood is perfect. You're still close enough that I know you'll be there if we need you or if you want to come by. Relax, we're fine.”

I nod, setting my box down next to the dresser that Ian and I moved in earlier, and kneel, giving Mama a hug. “Gimme some time to adjust, Mama. Fourteen years is a long time, you know.”

“I know. And don't worry, I'll call you at least two or three times a week on the days you don't come over just to talk. I know mi hijo.”

We keep up the moving, taking things one by one off the twenty-six-foot-long U-Haul that I rented to help the move. It wasn't so much my things from the house a few miles away that's created most of the work, but instead the pieces from what used to be Andrea's place in Santa Monica. It's ours now, the judge not granting Darren Coates bail after investigators found evidence of his travels overseas to 'order out' as he called it in e-mails. Coates Media and the shareholders have granted Andrea full rights to all of Darren's controlling interests, naming her as a temporary board member. She's turned it over to the active board, having deemed herself a silent majority shareholder, which seems to have calmed the board for now. They've got a tough time ahead, but they're riding it out well enough.

What it does mean for us is that Andrea's found herself in control of all her father's personal property, and a one million dollar a year stipend from the share trust that is all legally hers. Between that and my quarterly payout from my contract, we paid off Mama's house and still could get this one set up.

We’ve got all the stuff from the garage apartment, my things, and some items from the Coates mansion that Andrea wanted before she had the house closed until Darren's case is finished. Maybe she'll sell it, I think she will. Maria isn't sure if it was the site of her assault, but we still don't want to be reminded of Darren in any way.

I find Andrea in the truck, helping Ian with more boxes, clothes that are actually mine this time. “Hey, you two, I didn't think we'd get through this so quickly.”

“Thank Rocky,” Andrea says, grabbing a box and standing up. “He thought of using the moving cart to take five boxes at a time. I think he's getting hungry.”

“Well, I'll tell Cora to place the order then, if we have to just dump a bunch of stuff in the garage until we can move it slowly into the house. We'll just focus on getting the big furniture into the house. By the way, have either of you seen the kids and Maria?”

“Maria went shopping for sides,” Ian says, grunting as he picks up a heavier box and starts moving it to the ramp on the truck. “I think Angel and Bella are in the backyard playing.”

I nod, grabbing a box and hefting it up before going down the ramp behind Ian and Andrea, who set their boxes in the garage before going back to the truck. I glance out the back door of the garage, seeing Angel and Bella playing. Suddenly, Bella picks up the frisbee they're trying to throw back and forth and gives Angel a kiss on the cheek before running off, Angel laughing and chasing after her. I laugh to myself and go back to the truck, stopping Andrea when she comes into the garage with another box, this one marked living room. “We're going to have to have a talk with Angel and Bella.”

“Oh no, what'd they do now?” Andrea asks, chuckling. “Did Angel push her again?”

“No, Bella kissed him. On the cheek.”

Andrea laughs and kisses me on the cheek. “I'll go tell Cora. I think her daughter's got a great idea, kissing handsome men.”

I pull Andrea in tight and kiss her tenderly until Ian yells from the truck. “Hey! Nookie later! Move sofa now!”

After we finish, all of us gather in the living room, where the four extra-large pizzas rest on the coffee table, mostly devoured after our traditional post-effort feast. Rocky burps then raises his bottle of Coke for a toast. “To a new house. And the end of a great tour.”

“Here, here,” Ian replies, raising his own bottle. I know both guys would have preferred our normal beers, but with two kids present and Cora being pregnant, it didn't seem right to have alcohol. “And to Rocky Junior.”

“I'm not naming the baby Rocky Junior,” Cora laughs, raising her bottle. “And to Joey, your album comes out in a few weeks. It's not a hiatus, it's a chance for me to have a baby. So, mazel tov.”

We raise our bottles again, drinking deeply before I lower my bottle and set it aside. “Hold on guys, save a little bit for what I've got to say. Just a second, I forgot something in the other room.”

I get up off the floor and dart to the kitchen, where I'd hid my little surprise for tonight inside the freezer. Unfortunately, someone's been nice and plugged it in, so the box is freezing cold when I pull it out, but that's okay, I'm sure it won't matter.

I see the twinkle in Cora and Maria's eyes as they see me come back in, I think they're guessing what I have to say, and I notice Cora slip her hand down to get her phone out of her bag, probably getting her camera ready. I have two sisters, one by blood and one by music, and they know me so well.

“So, what's on your mind?” Rocky asks, taking a drink as I come around. “Spill it.”

Rocky's grin freezes and his bottle stops halfway back when I get in front of Andrea and kneel, taking her hand. “Andrea... I have something I want to ask you.”

“What's Joey doing with Andrea?” Angel asks, Maria shushing him when I look over, trying not to laugh. “What?”

“Just watch, hijo. You'll see. Go ahead, big brother.”

I nod, turning back to Andrea who's already trying to control her tears of happiness. “Andrea... we have a new house, a family that loves us... but most importantly, I love you. For the whole tour we lived like this, but I'd like to make it official. Andrea Coates... would you do this man the honor of becoming my wife?”

Andrea nods, bending down and kissing me before a cheer goes up, only to have it cut off a moment later as Ian hushes everyone. “Hold on, hold on, she didn't say yes!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Andrea laughs, sitting down.

“So... where's the ring?” Ian asks, grinning. I look down and realize I didn't open the freezing cold box in my left hand, and I bring it up, my face warm from blushing. I open the box, and even Ian must whistle in admiration at the ring, a platinum double banded ring with a princess cut diamond gleaming in the middle. “Okay, that works.”

I take Andrea's left hand in mine, carefully removing the ring and holding it for a moment before sliding it onto her finger, where it sits perfectly. “I love you, Andrea.”

Andrea leans forward again and gives me a kiss, stroking my face. “I love you, my Joey. Forever.”

Mama raises her bottle, her voice choked with tears of joy. “To Joey and Andrea. Mi hijo y mi hija. Congratulations.”

The cheer goes up, and I pull Andrea into a hug, holding her tight. Forever. Together forever.

It must be fate again, it's the same name as what we decided for that last track I laid in the studio, the one Ian called a 'baby-making song.' I'll talk it over with Andrea later when we've got some alone time.