It was dark when they finally left the hospital. Bikes rode ahead and behind of the GTO, and Michelle slumped gratefully in the backseat, which didn’t appear too badly stained, and which now smelled strongly of Lysol. She was ready for home, for TJ, for a hot meal and a shower and her bed. But it was a good kind of fatigue that dragged at her, the kind she hadn’t experienced in too long.
In the passenger seat, Eden twisted around so she could peer over the console into the back seat; the pose, and the anticipation on her face, lit up by the dash lights, struck Michelle as terribly girlish, and she found herself biting back a smile. Eden had enjoyed their day, too.
“She was sleeping with him?” she asked. “Honestly?”
“So she says,” Michelle said, shaking her head, amazed all over again. “It makes sense, in a way. She has a type, apparently.”
Eden snorted. “Criminals.”
“To be fair,” Axelle said from behind the wheel, “heispretty gorgeous.”
“Axelle, I’m appalled,” Eden said, sounding like she tried not to laugh.
“What? Did you see him? Back me up, Michelle.”
“He’s dreamy, no denying. If you don’t mind the whole going-to-kill-you-eventually thing.”
“Disappointing, both of you.”
“Says the woman willingly dating Charlie Fox,” Michelle said, and laughed when Eden rolled her eyes.
“Yes, fine,” she sighed. Then her gaze sharpened on Michelle. “Do you think she was being honest? That they’d turned on her – or do you think she’s still working with the cartel?”
Michelle sighed, too. She’d been wondering as much herself. “I can’t say that I like her.”
Axelle snorted. “Understatement.”
“And I’ve had a bad feeling about her from the beginning.” She nudged the back of Axelle’s seat with the toe of her boot. “But I can’t think someone would stand there and happily watch her brother get his throat cut just for some good dick.”
Axelle laughed.
Eden frowned. “Fear leads people to desperate alliances.”
“She says she was willing to make inroads with the club for them in order to keep Pacer safe.”
“People like her say lots of things.”
“Point taken. I never said I trusted her.”
“I didn’t think you did. Only putting it all in the open.” She twisted back around, and the way she flopped back against the seat revealed a fatigue not apparent in her voice. “The club will protect her, I suppose, same as Gwen.”
“And Jesse and Eric,” Michelle said. “It’s what they do.”
“The noblest of criminals,” Eden said, fondly.
The clubhouse, when they arrived, had never looked so welcoming, all its lights blazing. Michelle climbed out of the GTO in time to watch Gwen stagger off the back of Talis’s bike like someone afraid the machine might bite.
“Enjoy your ride?” Michelle asked, and earned a glare that was more terror than aggression.
“Come along,” Eden said, taking the girl firmly by the arm, “and we’ll see about accommodations.”
They’d intended to let the girl ride in the car with them, but Candy had insisted she ride behind one of the boys instead. Michelle knew he’d been thinking to keep the three of them safe, should Gwen get the wild idea to try anything – “People are less likely to jump off a moving bike than hop out of a car,” he’d reasoned – but she also thought it had been a means of giving the three of them – the wayward girl-group that they’d become today – a chance to unwind without listening ears. In both cases, she appreciated the gesture.
He appeared beside her, now, and looped his arm around her waist. Kissed the top of her head. “Tired, Mama?” he asked, softly, just for her.
“Little bit.” But she leaned into his solid side and let him support her.
Inside, Darla fussed over all of them. The common room was full of delightful food smells, and Michelle felt genuinely hungry for the first time in weeks.