Page 96 of Lone Star

“We’ll pay to have it deep-cleaned,” Candy told her, and surprise touched her expression.

“Oh. You don’t have to. Hazards of the job, you know?”

“One of my guys bleeds all over a lady’s cherry GTO, I’m gonna pay,” he insisted, firmly.

Axelle darted a glance to Albie, and then back to Candy, caught between wowed and nervous. “Oh. Well. Um. Thanks.”

Albie not-so-casually draped his arm across the back of her chair.

“What now?” she asked, scanning all their faces. “I mean…” She darted a glance around Albie, toward the open entrance of the waiting room, hands closing tight on her thighs. “Is the cartel gonna send guys right in here after us?”

“No, love,” Albie said, hand dropping down onto her shoulder.

“They won’t do something that obvious,” Candy said. “I told Cantrell it was the Chupacabras, and after today, I’d say they know we’re onto them. If the feds are worth a shit, they’ll start doing some real digging. But they will come after us.”

Michelle shivered, and not entirely from fear.

“Today kicked off a war,” Candy said. “Or picked an old one back up. And we’re all involved, now, so we’ll work together, all of us. Us against them.”

Axelle blew out a shaky breath. “Okay. Cool.”

Albie’s hand flexed where it rested on her shoulder.

Michelle spotted the same doctor from before coming toward them, mask dangling from her neck. “Jinx is out of surgery.”

~*~

Gwen jumped about a foot when Eden walked up and laid a hand on her shoulder. Let out a huge, whooshing breath when Eden smiled at her and said, “It’s only me. I thought we could have a chat.”

She hadn’t brought Fox with her – he’d said he needed to see to the young ones and an interrogation, and she’d waved him off, more than a little pleased that he leaned in to kiss her before he left – and was glad of it when she got Gwen settled in the cafeteria with a dish of chocolate pudding and a cup of coffee. The girl touched neither, and once again pulled her feet up in the chair with her. Her gaze darted in every direction, fleeting back and forth like a startled bird. Fox was no good at comforting; Eden wouldn’t say she had the softest touch, or the gentlest heart, but she’d had plenty of practice dealing with spooked witnesses with MI6.

“Gwen,” she started, and the girl startled. “You seem terribly frightened,” she said, with sympathy, offering another smile.

Gwen had been holding one hand up near her mouth, the damp, chewed bit of her hoodie sleeve within easy reach; she slammed her fist down into her lap, now, lip trembling. “Yeah, well I–” she began, much too loud, nearly shouting.

Eden noticed several heads whip in their direction.

Gwen paled further and dropped her voice to a rough whisper, leaning forward across the table toward her. She didn’t seem to notice that her hoodie strings wound up trailing through the pudding. “I got shot at. Yeah, I’m pretty fucking frightened.” Eden thought she’d wanted to sound indignant and petulant, but she sounded young and scared instead.

Eden rested an elbow on the table, her own voice very low and modulated so that it wouldn’t carry; she’d had lots of practice in that, too. “There was lots of shooting, and it was terribly unsettling for you, yes. But no one was shooting atyou, specifically, dear.”

Gwen stared at her a moment in disbelief, and then outrage put the first, much-needed bit of color into her face. “Yes, they were!” she hissed.

“Why? Because they saw you with us and knew you’d betrayed them?”

“I–” Her lips clamped shut, and she paled again.

“Typically,” Eden said, “receptionists aren’t privy to sensitive criminal information. I understand being suspicious of your employer, but why would you immediately assume they would want you dead, I wonder.”

“I…”

“You know something,” Eden said.

Gwen stared at her, terrified again, all her indignation evaporated.

“If you share it with me, I can offer you protection.”

A head shake.

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