Page 76 of Lone Star

A young woman sat on a high stool behind the counter, slumped down with an elbow braced on the countertop, absorbed in the screen of a laptop. Her hair was streaked pink and green, and tied up in two messy buns on top of her head; the stacked black chokers fastened around her skinny neck were the fashion transgressions of teenagers from two decades ago.

She flicked one quick, flat glance toward them when the front bell chimed, but then shifted her gaze back to her computer and kept it there as they approached. Eden had no doubt she was taking stock of them, though.

When they reached the counter, Eden laid her head down on Jinx’s shoulder and knotted a hand in the back of his shirt. He tapped his knuckles lightly on the edge of the counter and said, “Hey.”

A long beat passed before the girl lifted her head – slowly, and with a bored, sedated expression, like her neck wasn’t strong enough for even that much effort. Again with the flat look, but when she met Eden’s gaze, briefly, Eden saw apprehension lurking there, a shattering sort of fear, one betrayed by the rabbit-fast pulse visible in the hollow of her pale throat. “Hey,” she said, like they were imposing on her.

“Are you guys still looking to hire?” Jinx asked. “’Cause I’m interested in a new job.”

That perked her up a little. Her eyes widened a fraction, momentarily surprised. Then narrowed. She sat up, some of her malaise falling away, revealing the tense reality beneath. “You’re a Dog,” she said. “I recognize your ink.” She nodded to his right arm, and the massive, hyper-realistic snarling hellhound tattooed from elbow to wrist.

Exposing it had been a calculated risk, and Eden hoped it was one that paid off. She put on her best attempt at a Texas drawl and said, “My man wants to move up in the world. The Dogs ain’t shit.”

The girl’s over-plucked brows lifted. She stared at Jinx. “Yeah. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Things are shaking up around here. I gotta do what’s best for me and mine. You gonna tell me your boss discriminates? He doesn’t hire bikers?”

The girl made a face – and then bit her lip to try and hide it. She could smell the threat on the wind. She was afraid of her boss, obviously, and she was afraid of the Dogs, and now she was caught in the middle, unsure how to proceed. If Jinx was here to make trouble, her boss would be furious; but what if this was a chance to get an in with the Dogs?

The latter – the possibility of pleasing her master – won out, finally. After a long minute, she frowned, said, “Wait here,” and jumped down off her stool, only her pink and green buns visible above the counter.

Eden turned her face into Jinx’s throat, careful with her expression, still. Just a woman being too affectionate; nuzzling at her big, bad outlaw’s ear. She whispered, “Do not fuck this up.”

He grunted in annoyance, and flicked his head back, out of reach.

She pressed her knuckles into his spine.I’m serious.

He sent her a look that said her doubt offended him.

Too bad, she thought.I’ve been playing this game a lot longer than you.

The pink and green buns popped back into view. The girl looked outright nervous, now, and pissed-off. “Go over there,” she said, tilting her head toward the office. “Carlos wants to talk to you. Not you,” she added, looking at Eden. “You have to stay out here.”

“That’s fine,” Eden said, breezily, and detached herself from Jinx with one last nudge at his back. She plopped down into one of the chairs by the water cooler and watched him head toward the office door, trying to look proud, hoping this worked.

Inside her jacket pocket, she felt the reassuring, warm weight of her phone. Axelle and Michelle waited at the other end of the open, ongoing call, listening for her signal. She hoped they’d parked someplace safe and were keeping an eye out. She wanted to execute this op flawlessly, because that was her job; but, personally, she just wanted Fox’s beloved niece to stay safe.

~*~

Axelle’s phone sat on the narrow, wood-paneled center console of the GTO, right behind the gearshift, Michelle and Axelle hovering over it from either side. They’d parked behind the warehouse that was Sandoval Auto, in the parking lot of the lumber warehouse beside it. Axelle had backed in, for a quick getaway, between two tall trucks and in front of a sign, so they wouldn’t be visible from the street. They had a glimpse through the windshield at the back of Sandoval, the huge roll-top doors, and a pedestrian door. A few employees in mechanic smocks were on a smoke break, standing in a loose circle amidst puddles of dripped oil.

So far, the phone – and its connected call – hadn’t yielded much beyond the rustle of pocket noise, and the faint strains of a conversation. There hadn’t been any shouting, though, and Eden hadn’t yelled out her signal word, so Michelle guessed things were going as well as they could be for now.

She fidgeted again, drawing her legs up sideways into the seat with her, cracking her ankles. Restless.

“You wish you were in there with them, huh?” Axelle asked.

When Michelle met her gaze, feeling almost guilty, she was relieved to meet a knowing smirk instead of a judgmental frown. “Am I that obvious?”

Axelle held up her thumb and forefinger. “Just a little bit.” She chuckled.

Michelle settled back deeper against the seatback, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t think they can’t handle it.”

“But?”

“But I used to do this sort of thing when I lived in London. I was my dad’s secret weapon.” Axelle’s brows lifted, genuinely curious. “My mom died when I was really young, and my dad raised my uncle like my brother – well, you were there, you saw how messed up this family is.”

Axelle nodded, expression seeming to sayoh yeah.

---