There is a strong urge to walk out of the apartment and head to the bar down the street to get hammered. But there is also a considerable chance that either my mom or Angie would find me and drag me back home by the ear. Hell, they might even tag team to get the job done. Instead, I close the door behind me, hang my leather jacket on the hook, take my boots off, and go to the kitchen, tossing my keys onto the counter.
Angie stands at the stove, stirring a pot of beans, glaring. “Where have you been, honey?”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“Miguel, please sit.” My mom motions across the dining table from her and Steve. “We need to talk.”
“You’re asking me to sit at my own damn table, in my own damn home?”
“Don’t you dare give me an attitude! I haven’t seen you since that man took you away at gunpoint. Now sit.”
“Fine…” I scoot out the chair and plop down. “What’s going on?”
“Steve told me what you told him.”
My gaze slides to the old detective who is now banging my mom. “Thanks a lot, Steve.”
“Come on, Miguel. You know I had to tell her.”
My mom takes his hand. “Steve can help you.”
“No. Absolutely not,” I say.
Angie approaches the table, her hand sliding around my shoulder. “Help with what? What did you tell him?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” I say, but I should know better than to dismiss Angelina Mendoza.
“No. We’ll talk about it now.”
My mother waves her hands between us, trying to shut it down. “Listen, Angie, this is between us and my son. So please, give us some privacy.”
“Ma,” I warn.
“Privacy? Um, no,” Angie sasses right back. “I live here, and he is my boyfriend.”
My mom’s gaze snaps to me. “Boyfriend?”
“Yes, Ma.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “Angie is my girlfriend now, so I need you to be respectful.”
“Respectful?” my mom repeats and looks at Steve as if I’ve asked her to amputate her arm. “Mi culo! Tienes la audacia de decirme que debo ser respetuosa?”
“Ma, you’re in my apartment. So, yes, you need to be respectful to the woman I’m dating.”
Before my mom can retort, Steve takes her elbow. “Your son is a grown man. We can’t choose who he dates, but we can help him with the problem we came here to discuss.”
My mom huffs, “She’s the one who got him into this mess. I will never accept her.”
“You told them about that?” Angie gasps, her attention shifting to me.
My mom circles her finger at her. “Yes, we know all about your little tricks and deceitful ways. You’re lucky I haven’t clawed your eyes out.”
“No wonder she hates me…”
“She doesn’t hate you,” I say.
“Oh, yes, I do!"
“Ma!”
“She’s worse than Celia."
"You can't be serious. Celia cheated on me for years and terminated pregnancies I didn't know about."
YOU ARE READING
The Divorcee Murder Club
Mystery / Thriller𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 It's all fun and games until someone suggests killing each other's spouses for revenge. Miguel Gomez is your average disgruntled divorcée attending a support group in San Francisco to cope...
