Chapter 17

Curious, he looked down, quickly thrust his hand inside and pulled out an envelope with hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars inside.

He couldn’t believe it.

That little bastard. That wonderful little bastard.

He hadn’t offered it to Lathe because he knew he wouldn’t take it, so he must have slipped the envelope in his pocket for him to find.

Wasting no time, Lathe turned and hurried as fast as he could to Anjelo’s apartment building. As soon as he arrived, he met Anjelo coming out dressed in his cool dark clothes, his blond hair combed back into a messy ponytail, and he wore a torn T-shirt and ripped jeans. When their eyes met, Lathe felt a jolt. Not for the obvious reasons, but because his angel…had dirt on his face!

“I think I have something of yours,” he said, holding up the envelope.

“No, that’s yours, Lathe. You earned it when you taught me how to dress, and how to handle myself on the streets, so, I just felt I owed you. The money is my way of saying thanks.”