Virgin (The Henchmen MC 16)

More upscale than the other buildings that had been in the area.

Luck I never had in the past shined upon me as a woman came to the door with a stroller in front of her and a toddler on her hip, struggling to open the door for it. I rushed up, holding it open, accepting her thanks, inwardly giving her my own as I slipped inside, making my way to the elevator to ride it up to the fourth floor.

Unexpectedly nervous, I stood in front of the door for a long moment, trying to find the guts to knock.

Then I did.

And there he was.

Thaddeus.

In a gold, white, and blue thigh-skirting kimono and a gold sequined turban on his head. Despite the fact that he didn't even have any friggen hair.

"Bitch, you don't tell your brother you're getting out? You make me find out when I call the prison to talk to you? That's how we do things now? Christ, this hair," he said, grimacing as he reached out to stroke the admittedly dry tresses I had pulled back because I had given up on it years back.

Thad and I looked a lot alike. The same deep skin, the same high cheekbones, full lips, sleepy-lidded, golden brown eyes. But where I was only maybe five-five on a day when I was standing up straight, and slim if perhaps a bit thick of thigh and back end, Thaddeus was about six feet of solid muscle, making his black wifebeater look like it was holding on for dear life over his strong chest, leaving his impressive arms on display.

"Come on, get your pretty ass on in here," he demanded, stepping aside to invite me into the apartment.

It was what I would expect from Thad. The walls were a warm golden color, peppered with giant art prints in bright, crazy primary or neon colors. The living room to the left was full of plush, tufted creme furniture, a sleek oversized coffee table with a marble top that matched the countertops in the mostly-white kitchen.

Thad was neat by nature, save for a chair that was undoubtedly still in his bedroom where his discarded wardrobe choices would be piled, awaiting the day some months in the future where he would feel motivated to steam and hang them all back up again.

Everything had a place and was in it.

Except, of course, for the completely out of place black leather hairdresser chair sitting butted up against the kitchen sink.

"Um, Thad, why do you have that?" I asked, waving a hand toward it, watching as his eyes went to my hand, his head shaking as he grabbed my wrist, inspecting my short nails, my overgrown cuticles.

"Girl, I know they have emery boards and nail polish in there. This is a disgrace. And I have the salon chair because when a bitch hears his sister is getting out of federal prison after a decade, he makes sure he gets what she might need when she comes in. Like food in the cabinets. Fresh sheets on the guest bed. And the basic fundamental necessities for a much-needed makeover and pampering day."

Maybe I might have been offended by the idea of him insisting I needed a makeover. But, well, my own reflection had told me as much just that very morning.

"I also have some new clothes on the way."

"On the way? Do they deliver clothes now?" I asked, feeling like I had been under a rock only to reemerge to find an entirely different world had grown around me.

"They? As in the stores? No, angel baby, no," he said with a lip twitch. "But I have friends who love the idea of traipsing around buying pretty girl things. They will also be picking up a new cell for you. Handbags. Some girly shit for your lady business."

"You have friends that would pick up girly shit for my lady business?" I asked, completely unable to wrap my head around such a person.

"Well, boo, my friends don't have lady caves, so there is no embarrassment for them picking up stuff to stick all up in there," he said, waving a hand at my crotch. "Now. Go shower that public transit off of you. Wrap yourself in the spare kimono. Then come back out here for some food and pampering. What?" he asked when I felt my lips tipping up.

"I'm trying to wrap my head around having a single kimono, let alone a guest one."

"Um, Winifred, angel, I know you've been locked up for a long time. But I'm sure there was some lady cave digging or licking or whatever goes on with that whole situation you have down there. And just like there is lady-on-lady lovin' on the inside, there is man-on-fine-ass-man lovin' on the outside. And when one of those fine ass men stays over at my home and hearth, honey, they need to have themselves a kimono."