Page 66 of Lone Star

“They can’t be that terrifying,” Eden said.

“You don’t know.” His voice cracked.

Eric glared at them.

“They’re just – he’s just – you don’t know,” Jesse repeated, shaking his head. “The guys who are dead – those are the guys who said they wouldn’t work with him. Those are the ones who…”

“What?” Michelle asked.

“Who said they wouldn’t go against you fucking Dogs,” Eric spat.

“They told you they would kill you?” Eden asked. “Explicitly?”

“They said we would regret it,” Jesse said, “if we had any loyalty to the Dogs.”

Michelle frowned. “The Lean Dogs are the most powerful outlaw organization in this city. Inmostcities.”

“Last I checked, the Dogs don’t fucking crucify people.”

Eden let out a long, slow breath. “We need a name.”

“They’ll kill you, too,” Eric said, and it sounded more like a hope than a warning. “Just the men, if they can, but if you bitches start poking around–”

“That’s enough,” Jesse said, sharply.

They glared at one another. Then Jesse sighed and turned toward them. “Look. I always liked Candy. He’s not an asshole. But I don’t…”

“You’re right,” Michelle said, softening. “He’s not an asshole. And if you come to him yourself, he’ll keep you safe until this all blows over. This is his city, and he wants these guys gone just as bad as you do. Give me the name, I’ll pass it along, and this can all be over.”

He hesitated, still; a bead of sweat slid down his temple, and he dashed it away with the back of his hand.

“Don’t,” Eric urged him.

Jesse’s breath hitched, and he said, “He calls himself the Holy Father.”

“Fuck, no,” Eric said, and turned around, arms banded tight across his stomach, shaking.

“One of his guys – one of the high-ups – is called Luis, I think. I heard one of the others say that. I think – I think they’re cartel, maybe.”

Which would explain the terror – but it shocked her. She felt her brows go up. “Not the Chupacabras? Candy pushed them out.”

“They’re pushing back in,” Jesse said. Some of the visible emotion receded, suddenly, like the tide drawing back. He looked exhausted and pale, now.

“You’re sure?” Eden asked.

“You asked for a name, and I gave you one,” he said. “That’s all you’re getting.”

“Thank you,” Michelle said. “Call the clubhouse. Call Candy’s cell. I’ll call him. He’ll protect you.”

“We’ll see,” he said, sounding resigned.

Eden tossed the baggie on the counter, and they turned to go. Out on the sidewalk, she said, “They’re more afraid of the cartel than they are of the club.”

“I don’t think the cartel does any charity rides for the children’s hospital,” Michelle said, wryly. Then: “Shit, how did they get back in the city unnoticed?”

Eden shrugged. “These things happen.”

But Michelle couldn’t help but think she detected a note of judgement in her voice.

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