Page 98 of Lone Star

Melanie wasn’t in serious condition. A mild concussion and some bruised ribs, the nurse told Michelle and Axelle. She was awake, and would be fine to have visitors. Michelle made all the right concerned noises and faces until she knocked once on the indicated door, and let herself in.

Melanie’s bed was elevated, her head propped on two pillows. She already had a black eye coming up, and the white light, white sheets, and white gown had washed out some of her golden beauty. Under the fluorescent tubes, she looked lined, and tired, and older than she had the night Michelle had first met her.

She’d been studying her hands where they lay on the blanket, but lifted her head when she heard them enter, a for-show smile already forming – one that froze and vanished when she locked eyes on Michelle.

“Hello, Melanie,” Michelle said, coolly, and walked straight to the bed. She heard Axelle shut the door behind them.

At their first meeting, when Melanie had strutted into TLC with her big hair and her even bigger Texas drawl, Michelle had been wrong-footed, over-tired, and, yes, a little jealous. But now, today, buoyed by a good rush of adrenaline and her conversation with Candy, she felt like she had the upper hand – because she did.

There was a chair against the far wall, and Michelle dragged it over by the bed and sat, legs crossed. She picked bits of link from her jeans, and examined her fingernails, and said, “Oh, damn, Axe, I’m afraid there’s nowhere for you to sit.”

“I can stand,” the other girl said, slouching back against the wall, right beside the door. With her bored expression, and her clunky boots, she projected just enough of a threat. Everything about the way she stood said,Try something, and see if I hit like a girl. “Pregnant ladies should get dibs on the chairs.”

Michelle caught her gaze, before she turned to the bed, and read Axelle’s little smirk as encouraging. She loved knowing that Candy had her back, that he supported her, but it was damn nice to have a friend on her side, too.

Then, finally, she turned her gaze fully on Melanie, gratified when the woman shrank back against her pillows. “How are you feeling?” Michelle asked.

Melanie darted a glance toward Axelle, and then to the folding tray at her bedside – the call button there, specifically.

Michelle lifted her brows. “Really? Are you so frightened you want a nurse to come and save you from me?”

Melanie sucked in a breath. “What – what are you gonna do?”

It was pathetic, really. But not so pathetic that Michelle wasn’t going to enjoy it.

She sighed for show, and shifted down lower in the chair. “I was going to ask you some questions. I didn’t expect to walk in and find you nervous as a cat. Am I really as frightening as all that?”

Melanie gulped audibly. The difference between her now, and her a few days ago, was so stark Michelle nearly laughed. “I – I just talked to the cops.”

“Great. Good. Now maybe you can tell me what really happened? Because I don’t believe for a second you were randomly kidnapped as leverage.”

Melanie stared at her, unblinking, a rabbit in a trap.

“That is what you told them, yes? It’s what I would have, being involved in the sort of counterculture dealings I am. ‘Oh, officers, it was terrible, they put a knife to my throat, and dragged me away, and told my brother they’d kill me if he came after them.’ Right?”

Melanie kept staring.

“But that isn’t what happened at all, is it?”

A long beat passed before Melanie’s lashes lowered, and she whispered, “No.”

“I didn’t hear that. Did she say no?” Axelle asked.

Michelle shot her a quick glance – there was no sense playing the Bad Cop card too soon or too aggressively – and earned another smirk and a facial shrug. Axe was enjoying this, too.

“No,” Melanie repeated. She let out an unsteady breath and lifted her head again, visibly composing herself, her expression resigned. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“Considering you came crying to Candy for help and didn’t fill him in on all the important details? Yeah, yeah you do,” Michelle said.

That earned a nod. Melanie closed her eyes a long moment, fingers knotted together in her lap. “You’re gonna think I’m stupid.”

“I already do.”

Melanie glanced toward her, startled.

“Let’s not pretend,” Michelle clarified. “I have my suspicions about you, and they aren’t flattering. This isn’t about saving face, now. Shit is sideways. The cartel is threatening all of us, and your brother’s dead.”

Melanie made a low, wounded sound, her lips parted.

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