There she was again, that little slim white woman climbing into a different expensive car.

She was new to the neighborhood but you weren’t. You couldn’t help but notice when she’d leave out the house.

In those red bottoms, the tiny little dresses and the cheap red lipstick she’d always wear. Dressed like a cheap whore off the streets.

She wasn’t ugly but she definitely presented herself like she was a cheap pr*stitute. It was known that she was married to a task force commander, which brings us to Carlos.

Her husband, who was never really at home. You’d seen a man move into that same house earlier, he had lots of baggage he brung in.

You assumed it was her husband since he was the only man who had actually came inside the house.

Presently you were baking cookies and cooking for the shelter nearby. You’d ran out of sugar so you’d decided to ask the neighbors, although you didn’t want to, you were busy and didn’t have time to go to the store.

You went over to their home and knocked on the door. he answered, he was handsome. He had that rugged look on his face.

He hadn’t had the time to shave, so he had a beard. His hair was a bit long and he was sweating. It seemed as if he’d just got done exercising.

He was in a grey compression shirt and black sweatpants. He was vary fit for his age.

He raised an eyebrow before folding his arms. ”Can I help you?”