Stolen Melody (Snow and Ash #2) (15 page)

I chew some skin off my lips and look away.

“You like it.” Understanding dawns on his face. “You found some dominant bastard to abuse the hell out of you, and you’re eating it up!”

“Randy!” My face goes hot with shame.

“That’s sick!”

“Axel does not beat me!”

He nods, fake agreement. “You just fall a lot, right? Every goddamn day.”

I want to punch him. “Don’t you judge me. Who the hell do you think you are? I happen to be in love with him!”

We both freeze. He’s probably shocked and pissed. Me, I’m just plain stunned. Until that moment I had no idea that Axel Diehl had stolen my heart.

Finally he nods and takes a step back. He shakes his head. “Whatever.”

“Don’t be like that, Randy. I know you were just trying to be nice.”

“Nice guys fucking finish last. Go to hell, Melody!”

I’m shaking, and it’s not entirely from the cold. My fingers are stiff, and it takes me two tries to turn the door handle. Mia and Zack are conspicuously silent as I hang up my coat and take my seat at the table. I scoop a portion of chili into my bowl.

“I’ve seen the bruises too,” says Mia. “You should have gone with him.”

I feel them staring at me. Pitying me. My stomach heaves, and I swallow back a mouthful of acid. I’m not sure if it’s her I hate, or me. I grit my teeth and concentrate on sticking the ladle back into the pot. It clunks against the side, and I hide my fists in my lap. Then I take a deep breath, pick up my spoon, and stare down into the dish. “Axel doesn’t do anything I don’t want him to do.”

There. Now I’ve done it. She’ll really give it to me after this. Probably humiliate me at every opportunity, and in front of as many people as possible.

“I like anal,” Zack says.

A snort of laughter shoots out of me, and I clap a hand over my smile.

“Jesus,” Mia says with a roll of her eyes. “I’d take whatever I could get.”

Still smiling, I spoon up a bite of the chili. It plunks down into my tummy like a glob of grease. When I lean in and give it a sniff, my head goes light and my stomach roils. I shoot up, meaning to run for the bathroom, but I get maybe two steps before I vomit all over the floor.

“Well,” Zack says, rubbing his hands together. “Guess who’s knocked up?”

Mia sighs and pushes herself away from the table. “I need a joint.”

For three nights straight I dream of nothing but Axel. Axel getting shot; Axel getting stabbed; Axel holding me down while he marks my neck; most of all I see his expression just before he left. I wake up, and I’m so wet, so desperate for him. Mia’s in the other bedroom and Zack’s sleeping on the couch. I slide my fingers inside my panties and touch myself, just like Axel taught me. It feels good, but it doesn’t satisfy my need. Only Axel can do that. When I come, the feeling is strange. My belly, my vag, something is looser and yet more intense and it’s all I can do not to cry out and wake the others.

This morning is no different. Is Zack right? Is there a baby inside me? For a moment horror grips me like a medieval weapon. I touch my tummy, and the feeling disappears. Axel’s baby. Our baby. My belly flutters. In fact, my whole body tingles.

Later that day I’m running laundry through the wringer when Mia bolts through the door.

“Mia! What are you doing home?” She’s supposed to be at the exchange.

Her face is red, and she’s panting like she’s been running hard. “Where’s Zack?”

“At the barn, I guess.” That’s his job, looking after the horses.

She scowls over her shoulder, like she’s telepathically kicking Zack in the nuts. Mia seems about as uncomfortable as I’ve ever seen her. “You’re not gonna like this.”

The way she says it, I know I won’t. I let go of the wringer and put my hands in my lap.

“Leo Arpin came through the gate half an hour ago. He ran eight miles with his arm shot half off.”

Shock spreads through my chest like tiny shards of lead. “Is it… Are they…”

“It was a trap. Barry’s men were waiting for them just short of Johnson City. It was a slaughter.”

“Oh my God!” I clap my hands over my mouth and bend over double. This can’t be. The messenger is wrong. Axel’s going to be home any minute. I start to shake, and I have to breathe hard just to keep the black spots from taking over.

“Oh— No!” She reaches out a hand and grimaces in a classic sorry look. “It isn’t that bad. Not yet.”

“You said it was a slaughter.” Even talking is difficult. I can’t get enough air.

Mia’s brow creases, and she speaks fast like she thinks I’m going to pass out or something. “Leo said he saw them take some of the guys away. Axel was one of them.”

“What for?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

I sit up straight and rub the feeling back into my legs. “Well, did he say where they were taking them?”

The front door swings back with a bang.

Zack stalks in, eyes all wild. “I claim you!”

Mia raises her brows. “Zack, you can’t. You’re gay.”

“I can do anything I want,” he says, nostrils flaring.

I feel like I’m losing control again. “He might still be alive.”

“Aw, honey.” Mia rubs my back like I’m a baby that needs to be burped. “They was all beat up, bound up, and walking like they was in a chain gang.”

I feel like I might explode. He’s alive. That’s all I care about. “Do you either of you know where they were going?”

“I heard they’re still headed for Johnson City,” says Zack.

“It doesn’t make sense,” says Mia. “They wanted the territory; they got it. Why bother with prisoners?”

I don’t care why.

“Evidence?” Zack muses. “The old guys are out. The new guys are in town.”

“Then what?” As soon as it’s out, I wish I could snap the question back.

“Public execution?” Mia shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t know. I don’t think you want to know.”

There’s that leaden shock again, followed by a shot of liquid nitrogen in my veins. I bend over again, and this time the black spots threaten to take over. I can’t let that happen. Crying and fainting have never done a single lick of good for me. Axel is a man of action, and he’s one of those people that makes things happen.

I sit up and smooth my hands over my face. “Okay, we have to think. What’s being done?”

They both stare at me like I’ve asked the stupidest question ever.

“Half our men are gone,” Mia reminds me.

“If they leave here, the fort’s vulnerable,” Zack adds.

That’s just stupid. “There are a lot more people than that here.”

Zack shrugs. “Most of us are just workers from other towns.”

“So the fuck what?” I don’t feel guilty for swearing. I feel empowered. “If your town got attacked, wouldn’t you want our guys to show up and help you?”

“Yeah, but”—he shifts on his feet and looks down—“that’s not gonna happen.”

He’s thinking like a victim. I look to Mia, and she’s wearing that same helpless look.

“That’s exactly what our men were headed out to do, guys!”

Mia frowns and grits her teeth. “Let me tell it to you again. There’s what, maybe fifty gang members here? There’s got to be double that walking into Johnson City right now.”

I jump to my feet. “What’s wrong with you? Fifty gang members. There’s got to be over a hundred other people in this fort. Surely one or two of you can handle a weapon.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “They’re not gonna let us walk up to them and say, ‘Here we are, let the townspeople go,’ Melody.”

I bite my lip. There has to be a way.

“Anyway, who knows where they are at this point?” she adds. “There’s probably a soldier in every corner of the town by now, all spread out like they were at Sadie’s Bend.”

She’s right. “We’d need to get them all in the same spot.”

Zack looks at me like I’ve gone nuts. “Honey, they’re going to be watching for us. Expecting it.”

I think. Hard. No way am I going to say
oops, guess that’s the end of my Axel.
“So you’re saying we’d need a distraction.”

Zack snorts. “A motherfucking, mind-blowing distraction. You got one of those?”

Again with the black spots and shaking. “Do you think… What about a concert?”

They both stare at me. Mia’s eyes widen, and I can almost hear her brain go click.

“Who you going to get?” Zack says, wagging his head. “Michael Bublé?”

I twist my hands together, then stand up straight and arch out my breasts. “Melody isn’t just my nickname.”

Mia claps her hand over her mouth, and I swear she’s looking at me with respect. Zack is still blank though.

“I wore a thong and a practically see-through bra on the MTV music awards.”

His eyes narrow and his jaw sags. “Oh, you’d better not be lyin’.”

Mia rolls her eyes and points. “Look at them tits, Zack. She’s Melody with a cherry on top.”

I cringe. “Could you not say that?”

Zack crosses his arms. “If you’re out, girl, you’re out. There’s no going back in the closet.”
 

Oh God. This had better work. I do some more cringing, and then I take a deep, healing breath. “Okay. So at least we have an idea. We need someone to put together the plan, though. Who’s in charge of things?”

Johnson City doesn’t have a wall, really. Just a high pile of rubble. I wonder if that’s how they solved the issue of garbage disposal. Not that I actually care.

“You might as well turn around right there,” calls a voice from somewhere in the rubble.

My muscles tell me to obey. I paste a smile on my face, and we continue forward.

“Look. I don’t want to have to kill you, but I will. No stragglers.”

“We’re not stragglers,” Zack calls out. “We’re performers.”

“I don’t care who you are,” he says, his voice harshening. “Now turn around and get out!”

It can’t be much above thirty degrees, but these days that’s sunbathing weather. I unzip my coat, pull it off, and hand it to Felicia, one of the girls we recruited to pose as a dancer.

“What the hell you think you’re doing?” Less harsh now, more curious.

“Hopefully, entertaining you,” I call back. I shuck my sweatpants, revealing the multi-strap, hand-bedazzled thong.

I spot him now. He’s at the top of the pile just beside the gate. There’s a man flanking him about ten feet down, and another ten feet past that. The same on the other side of the gate.

He raises his rifle to firing position, and I want to back away. I can’t, though. This is all I have. It’s this or nothing. I sweep the sweatshirt over my head and toss that, too, to Felicia. Then I take a deep breath, put my hands on my hips, and face them full on.

Beaded lace scrap barely covering my breasts.

Bedazzled thong on the bottom.

A moment later every one of them has his scope trained on me. I smile at one and give him a wink. I turn around slowly, giving them time to take in my shape. I make sure to use my hips for maximum effect. I’m even wearing makeup, or what we managed to slap together to pass as makeup. We’ve curled and teased my hair to bad-girl fullness, and I give them my best pout.

Nothing happens.

I take two steps closer, leaving the others behind. “As you can see, I’m not armed.”

Appreciative chatter bounces off the debris pile.

“What do you want?” The voice seems not so much angry as suspicious.

“We’re musicians. Larry and Justin are on guitar; Gator has the drums. Kevin here has the violin, and these two girls, Juicy and Felicia, they’re backup vocals and dancers.”

“Thanks for the introduction,” he snarks. “Who the fuck are you?”

It’s too late to stop now. I’m standing in front of the gate, at least six snipers aiming their rifles at me, and I’ve brought over one hundred fifty people, each of them depending on me.

“My name is Melody.” I adjust my bra to draw attention to my breasts. “You might remember me from the MTV music awards.”

Men and boobs. That’s all it takes to melt them into putty. They catch sight of a little ass, and suddenly they can’t do enough for you.

We’re escorted to a brick building in the downtown area. There isn’t much left of Johnson City but the downtown, and I wonder if that wall of debris came from smashed Walmarts and bulldozed homes.

“You!” The short guy with the Glock has an enormous chip on his shoulder. “Come with me. Just the three of you. The musicians can stay here in the lobby.” He says
musicians
like he means rats, and nods at the front-door guards. “Keep watch on these ones. This could be a trick.”

Juicy—her real name is Olivia, but we improvised—gives me a WTF look. Felicia fidgets with her hair.

“Undo your coats,” I mutter as we approach the door to the stairwell.

“Why?” asks Felicia.

“He needs to get the full effect. Take your coats off and be prepared to strip.”