An Angel's Vice

Chapter 22 - Passive Aggression

A/N: The bright side of experiencing new trauma and PTSD is that I get to insert it inside the characters & scenes to help the story feel more real and to heal myself as well. Because at least they get through it or have more support. Look at me, racking up enemies who want to kill me just like Candy😌. And if they fail, and they all crumble because of me, I think I understand why it's hard to not be on a power trip like she is. But that still scares me because of the fucking domino effect that comes with punishing people's loved ones when they deserve it. Oh well. Nothing makes me angrier than sex trafficking, and I will forever advocate against that. I will take out any and everyone if I have to, with the streets AND the feds, if it means several less slaves and potential victims too.

Writing is keeping me sane. Thank you for being here. Life only gets crazier, and telling stories is the best way I know how to manage it.

***

January 10th, 2009
Saturday, 2:12pm - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

"You like it? Really?" Candy steps out of the hair salon, behaving shyly just like the big, bold sun barely peeking from the grey clouds. She can't help but smile when Lauren mutters a smitten 'yeah' and snaps another photo of her on their third disposable camera of their journey, but she throws out her hand and blocks the shot when Lauren crouches down and takes another. "Stop! I don't want you to waste film on something I'm not sure about yet."

Lauren sucks her teeth and temporarily lowers the camera. "Babe, you look hot as fuck. It almost makes me mad because I know the kind of attention you're going to attract," she says as she glides into Candy's orbit and fixes her newly blonde hair with her fingers, combing her bangs and the side bountiful strands by her ears that wasn't tucked into her bun. She pecks the frosty, pink tip of Candy's nose and then her lips. "You wanna pose for me? Just two more."

Candy rolls her eyes as she gives in, her guarded shoulders dropping just like her pout. She tries to suppress her growing smile by biting the inside of her bottom lip, but Lauren's tricks to get her out of her shell proves her efforts to be futile. "Two more. Two," she stresses, throwing up her fingers. She lets Lauren adjust her thick coat as well—the magnificent fox fur that pairs tastefully with her amethyst diamond cross earrings and recently bought winter stiletto boots with more fur trim to piece her outfit all together. Candy hugs the lapels together and tilts her head, smizing for the camera in front of the salon window.

"Hell yeah," Lauren mutters, closing one eye as she aligns the lens perfectly, making it a horizontal, full body shot. "You look like a fucking boss. Look at you. Give me some more, show me who's boss, Veneno."

"Veneno?" Candy quirks a brow, shifting her weight to another pose. "Are we back to that?"

"What's the problem?"

"The problem..." Candy turns her back and looks over her shoulder as she teases a little skin, lowering her coat down her back just a smidge, "is that I'm your fucking sweetheart."

"You're whatever I call you," Lauren turns the scroll wheel and then flips the camera vertically, moving in for a close-up. She grins when Candy shows more attitude. "Yeahhhh, keep doing that. You're so fucking sexy right now. Who needs to be in Miami for the winter when you bring all that heat to me?"

Candy blushes more at that line. She gives her what she wants, like usual. But now she feels challenged, and that's not something she wants to let go so easily. She covers back up when the unforgiving winter cold invades the warmth of her protected skin, and, like a panther, she moves toward Lauren, grazing her lips with her tongue. "Did you know that 'Veneno' is a serious accusation?"