Page 28 of Queen of The Reapers
“She isn’t ready.” Tristan huffs, talking about me as if I can’t hear him. “We’ll s… stay in the car. You two go in.”
“No.” I snap, glaring up at him. “I’ve got this, alright? It slipped out, but I won't let it happen again. We all need to be there for this plan to work.”
The three of them don't seem convinced, but when they say nothing else, I decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive up the road. This plan will work, but if I slip again, there’s no way in hell they’re letting me be a part of it.
The architecture of Melanie’s home has the same Spanish influence as Maria’s Cantina, with a red tile roof, cream stucco walls, crisp archways, and bright pink and green bougainvillea plants climbing up the sides of the building.
The beauty of her home is a stark contrast to the devastation we saw only a few hours ago. The devastation she may very well be responsible for. Alex was the target, but if she was just going to take her, why kill so many innocent people in the process? Why be so fucking reckless?
Atlas pulls up to the main courtyard and throws the car into park. The four of us step out of the car and begin our walk up the long flight of terra cotta colored steps that lead to the second gate.
“Jesus.” I say, looking around at the guards carefully watching us. “She has more security than the four of you do.”
“She has a lot more enemies too.” Atlas remarks, ushering us up to the door.
Once we reach the last gate, it’s showtime. The guys all look at me and I nod my head and activate the call box. Within a few seconds, the blank screen flickers to life and Melanie’s face enters the frame.
“Hey.” She says, her voice sounding both surprised and suspicious as she eyes the four of us carefully. She isn’t wearing any makeup and her hair looks drenched. “What’s up?”
My lips form into a tight smile as she stares at me expectantly. I wasn’t expecting to be so upset at the sight of her. I want to scream in her face. To run in there, throw her down to the ground, and demand that she give me back my sister. But that isn’t part of the plan and if this is going to work, I’ve got to keep up the charade and the show must go on.
“Could we come in?” I ask, gesturing to the four of us. “I really wanted to come by and thank you. You know, for everything.”
Melanie cocks her head slightly as she assesses us through the screen. Her nose wrinkles and the fine lines between her eyebrows crease.
“Why the hell not?” She offers, buzzing us into the gate. “I’m almost finished with my laps. Come meet me by the pool.”
Once the gate clears, Atlas wraps his arm around the small of my back and escorts me through the grounds, with his brothers trailing a few feet behind us. It's probably a walk he’s done countless times in the years he’s known Melanie, but I try not to focus on that.
Once we reach the front door, a tall man in his early 30s opens the door and ushers us to the back of the house. He’s dressed casually, which is surprising because everyone else we’ve encountered has been in full uniform, but he’s the least of my worries.
As soon as she spots us walk out onto the back patio, Melanie makes a show of stepping out to greet us. She emerges from the pool in a white one piece that emphasizes her naturally tan skin and shakes her wet honey blonde hair. Tiny beads of water trickle down her toned athletic body as she steps towards us and even with no makeup, she's stunning.
“Thank you, Charles.” She offers, grabbing her towel as her eyes linger on him for a few seconds longer.
“No problem, Miss Diaz.” He says with an easy smile. “If you need anything else, just call.” He walks away and heads back into the house without another word.
Melanie watches him leave, and for a second, I wonder who he is. He wasn't familiar with Atlas like Tim was, so he must be new. But what exactly is his job? Before I get too off-track, I shut those thoughts down. We're here for one thing, and one thing only: Alex.
“Thanks for agreeing to see us. Could we talk?” I ask, nodding my head towards her garden. “Alone?”
“Sure.” She says, hesitantly as she finishes towel-drying her hair.
This is all part of the plan the guys came up with. Out of the four of us, I’m the only one who can try to get her alone without raising any suspicions. While I distract her, Tristan is going to hack into her phone and see if he can find anything while the other two distract her guards.
Melanie leads us to the garden and once we’re out of earshot she speaks up. “I know I said we should hang out, but honestly a text would’ve been nice. I definitely didn’t mean for you to show up at my house whenever you want.”
“I would’ve texted,” I say, trying to keep the conversation going, “but I don’t have your number.”
“Hand it over.” She says, giving me her open palm. My eyes flash to her palm then back to her face, and I stare at her like she’s sprouted another head. “Your cell phone.” She says, cocking a brow. “If you’re going to text me, you’ll need my number.”
I slip my newly recovered cell phone out of my pocket, unlock it, and hand it over to her. Melanie opens the messages app and quickly shoots herself a text. “There you go.” She says, handing it back to me. “Now you have no excuse not to text first.”
“Thanks.” I say, flashing her a fake smile. “I know I should’ve reached out first. It's just after everything that happened, I feel like we’ve bonded…”
The next words in the script I practiced escapes me as Melanie turns her head slightly and my eyes latch onto the three fresh red stripes across her left cheek. Stripes that look an awful lot like violent scratch marks.
I try to take a calming breath, but I can't even get enough air in my lungs. Those marks weren't there before. They're fresh. My sister must have scratched her right before she ordered her fucking men to drag her out of that motel room. I know Alex. She wouldn’t go quietly, she would fight with everything she had.
