34.

It was close to noon when I woke up all warm and comfortable, curled up in the blankets in our little bed. If someone had not been poking me in the face I probably would not have woken up.

Not that it was a bad thing since I had things to do. But I was so comfy.

I opened my eyes to see Annette with a blonde bob in jeans and a white wife beater and suddenly remembered we were supposed to go to the mall off base.

Whoops.

She wasn't mad.

Quite the opposite actually.

She sat on top of the covers inches away with a coffee mug in hand, a huge grin plastered across her face. "You know, Ang, if you had just slept in wit'out any good ole reason I would have been upset. However! Your apartment shows clues of sexual activity."

Clues of sexual activity?

Was she serious? She had to be taking Hoot's place as head overseer of who was sleeping with whom, and when their girlfriends would be single. She was a mirror image of her brother in more ways then one.

When I didn't answer she sipped whatever was in her mug. Then informed me of these clues. Holding her fingers up one by one with each clue, "First of all, the couch is a mess, congrads. Second, Jimmy could hear y'all through the wall at bout three. He told me to tell y'all to get busy against the other wall, he was tryin to sleep. Thirdly, there be clothes skattered all over out yonder. Good for you girl. And number four, you got a big ole hickey on your neck."

A hickey?

I reached up and felt around my exposed neck.

Annette's finger pointed it out for me, "Right there sweetie."

Oh good.

Annette clapped, "My baby girl is all dun growed up. On our way to the mall you can tell me everything. Now hurry and get up, I make you lunch."

Lunch?

I looked up at her, "What's for lunch?"

"Fatback," she told me.

What on Earth was fatback?

"And that is?"

She bounced on the mattress. Where all the energy came from was a mystery to me. She then clapped, "Fat from pork fried up wit salt an you put it on a biscuit wit honey or tomatoes."

Oh my Jesus.

Pig fat?

That sounded nasty, "Can you make anything else?"

She thought about it, "Chitlins?"

"What is that?"

"Pig intestines. I fry them up real good."

Oh dear God, I sat up, holding the blankets to my chest, "Anything else?"

"Grilled Cheese?"

I could eat that, "Make me one of those."

That sounded edible.

I watched her get up, careful not to spill her drink, and cruise out of the bedroom. At that I dropped back down into the bed. A huge smile grew over my face. I rolled onto my stomach, on Gordon's side of the bed, and smelled his pillow. I curled up in the small groove left by him. Unable to stop smirking. I was slightly curious as to what Gordon had done to my neck. Just not curious enough to get out of bed.

"Angela!"

I looked up, Annette stood in the doorway, a hand on her hip.

"What," I asked.

She thrust her hand toward the bathroom door, "Our money ain't gonna to spend itself."

That was true.

"Ok, scat, I'm not dressed."

Grinning, she strolled back into the living area.

I waited, then rolled across the bed, further entangling myself in the blankets and getting to my feet. At that I maneuvered into the bathroom, closed the door, and dropped the sheets. I wrapped myself in a towel and then peeked up at myself in the mirror.

Sure enough there was a purple hickey on my neck.

I touched it and wondered just when I got it. Curious, I opened the towel and peeked downwards. No other hickeys.

From outside Annette shouted, "Angela! Today!"

I was ready to kill her. I really was. That was until she added, "There are some MP's here to see you!"

Shit.

I had completely forgotten about them.

I peeked out the bathroom door and shouted, "I'll be right out."

In the towel I ran out to the duffel bags and pulled some unmentionables, a pair of jeans, and one of my button up shirts. Then I scurried back into the bathroom and pulled all of them on. It wasn't until I had the white shirt on a buttoned did I realize I had a black bra on.

Then I decided I didn't care.

I left my hair down to hide the monster scar on the back of my neck. Then I hurried out into the living area before Annette got too chatty. Sadly, I was too late.

There were two MP's.

One stood at the table inspecting my court papers.

Annette was talking to the other, and I caught the tail end of what she was telling him. "Gordon would never lay a hand on Ang, he's well trained. You wanna know who's beaten their woman, I give you three names. There be three men here on base who be beaten the livin hell outta their wives. No lie."