by Jenny Lynn
“If I can’t convince you not to do this, because you don’t listen to anything I say, then I can at least help you dress the part. Come on.”
There was no sense arguing with her, and besides, I really could use her help. Reya was an exotic dancer and if I was going to pass for a sex worker my wardrobe probably wouldn’t be convincing. Reya gestured for me to sit on her couch as she went to get a bottle of chilled white wine and two glasses. She poured for us, then handed me a glass. I took a sip, it was well-balanced and delicious. After a long day in the hot sun, cold wine was incredibly soothing.
“This is really good,” I told Reya as she headed for her bathroom.
“I have a new client at the club, he’s a wine importer for the top restaurants. He sent me a box of amazing wines.”
She came back with a large bag of makeup and sat beside me, turning my face in the light.
“You need yellow to cover bruises by the way,” she said as she used a makeup wipe to remove the half-assed job I had done. She took something out of her bag and started dotting it around my eye. “Do I want to know how you got this?”
“Depends, do I want to know how you became an expert in hiding bruises?”
She shrugged. “I dated an asshole when I was young and stupid. What about you, a guy do this to you?”
“Yeah, but not someone I was dating. My cover was blown and this was my parting gift.”
“I’d tell you what you’re doing is reckless and stupid, but would you listen to me?”
“I’m so close though,” I sighed as she continued to fuss with my makeup. When she went to pick up another tube I took another sip of wine. It really was good. I relaxed into the couch and let her make me over. Reya was one of the strongest women I knew. She worked hard and took no bullshit. She was also strikingly beautiful and kind. When I moved in she brought me a basket of fruit to say hi. We became closer with time, moving from a quick hello in the stairwell to sharing takeout and cocktails. It felt nice that I had someone so close by who cared about me.
“Hold still or I’m going to give you a unibrow,” she snapped as she gently placed false eyelashes against my eyelids. I held my breath trying not to laugh as she adjusted them, then applied a few strokes of mascara to blend them in.
“Perfect,” she said as she looked at my face. “If you ever want a job at the club, you would make a killing,” she teased.
“I’d need a lot more wine to deal with my crippling fear of public nudity,” I giggled.
Reya held up a mirror and I looked back at my reflection with a gasp. I looked like a sultry, sexy porn-star version of myself. Smokey eyes and full pouty lips with my cheekbones accentuated by highlighter. The woman was a miracle worker.
“What were you thinking of wearing?” Reya asked me.
“I have a short black dress. And heels.”
Reya shook her head. “Come on, anything I have for work will be much more convincing.”
“You’re not going to send me out there dressed as a sexy nun or school girl are you?” I groaned.
“I also have sexy cowgirl,” she added. In her bedroom she pulled open the closet and rummaged around, looking at me closely, then pulled out a red dress and held it up. “Here, this is perfect.”
My jaw dropped at the dangerously low plunging neckline and the exposed back. There was barely enough fabric for it to be considered a dress. “I can’t wear that,” I shook my head.
“If you want to pass their test you will.”
“What if someone still recognizes me?” I asked, reluctantly accepting the dress.
Reya rummaged in her closet, taking a box from the top and fishing out something dark.
“Here, it’s a wig. Black bob, very chic and with your bone structure it will look great on you.”
I looked from the dress to the smooth hair, then to Reya. “Do you think this will work?” I was starting to feel nervous, especially after the warning they gave me last night.
“It should,” she told me. “But if it doesn’t then you better do the smart thing this time. Run, and run fast.”
I downed the rest of my wine, my hand shaking slightly. Reya placed her hand on my arm reassuringly as she refilled my glass. I had the help of an expert on my side this time. If this was going to work, if I was going to get in, this is how I was going to do it.
***
After getting changed into the dress and wig, then into a pair of black heels, I called a taxi to bring me to the warehouse where the club was set up. Downstairs was a bar with loud music where high-end patrons mingled with the working girls, and upstairs was where time alone could be bought by the hour. Members of the public went in from the front. In the back at a dark side door is where I had my last failed “audition” and I had to be a complete idiot to try this again. But I was so close, and like a dog with a bone I couldn’t let go.
Club Fantasy had a reputation on the street for bringing girls in who were unwilling victims of trafficking, grooming them into obedient sex slaves. The girls who disobeyed were punished, or went missing. If I could crack this case no amount of bribery was going to get them off this time. The public pressure from an expose in the media would force the police into swift action. Maybe it would save a girl who could go missing. Like my sister.
I took a deep breath and walked up to the back door where a burly bouncer was waiting. His suit looked too tight, stretched over brawny muscle and thick legs. I felt a bit of relief it was a different man than the one who had hit my face, but still, the risk was there that he could recognize me despite Reya’s best efforts. I plastered on a smile and swung my hips.
“Hi there,” I told the man. “I was told you were hiring and was wondering if I could have an audition.”
He looked me over, slowly, his gaze traveling from my legs to my exposed cleavage. He paused before answering me, letting me stand there and be evaluated like a piece of meat. Finally he nodded.
“You have the right look, let’s see if you can pass the test.”
He opened the door and gestured for me to walk down a long, dimly lit hallway towards a door in the distance. I tried to hold my head high, fighting the fear building in me. It would work this time, it had to. My heels tapped loudly against the concrete floor as I walked forward, echoing in the hallway and mixing with the barely muted music blaring on the other side of the wall. I knocked on the door, and after a pause it was yanked open from the inside. Another impossibly large, imposing man stared down at me. Was every security guard a former MMA fighter? They were all terrifying and huge.
“You looking to join?” the man asked. I nodded, he stepped aside for me to come into the room. There was a man behind the desk, I recognized him as Dale Merrick. He was a high-level employee of the Venetti crime family, multiple arrests for assault and thanks to a well-paid mob lawyer he had avoided jail despite being the suspect in a number of missing and murdered women cases. He eyed me, then gestured for me to step closer.
“You a cop?” he asked.
I shook my head. He pushed something on a tray towards me.
“Prove it. Swallow.”
“What is it?” I asked, staring at the pale pink pill nervously. This didn’t happen last time I was here, but then again, last time I didn’t get as far as his desk without the bouncer noticing who I was. I made eye contact with a bored looking woman on a couch, then saw three other men in the corner at a table playing cards.
“Did I fucking stutter?” Dale snapped, pounding his fist on the table and causing me to jump. “If you’re not the type of bitch that takes orders, this isn’t going to be the place for you.”
I picked up the pill, eyeing in, and then placed it in my mouth. Dale shoved a bottle of vodka at me and I took a swig, washing the mystery pill down. As soon as I swallowed my resolve crumbled. What was I doing? This was all wrong.
“Felicia, leave,” Dale told her. The woman got to her feet obediently and left the room out the door and down the long hallway I had passed through. The bouncer
closed the door behind her.
“Can you at least tell me what I took?” I gathered my courage to ask.
“Relax, it’s just ecstasy. I want you to feel good. What’s your name?”
“Bianca,” I told him as he stood up from his desk and walked towards me. He circled me like a shark, I tried to stand tall under his gaze reminding myself next steps. I would get in, get access. Then I was going to sneak around upstairs and take photos, speak to a few of the women if I could. Maybe I could even show them Dana’s picture. Maybe someone would recognize her. Then I would be out of here before they even realized I was missing.
“Bianca,” he murmured, stroking my shoulder then standing in front of me. “Take your dress off Bianca, let me see the merchandise.”
I froze and he laughed, looking over his shoulder. “We’ve got a shy whore guys.”
I lifted my head high then took a deep breath, slipping the dress down over my shoulders and standing tall with as much faked confidence as I could muster. I was strong. I could do this. I needed to think about the women I could help. This wasn’t about me.
Dale stared at me, his eyes raking over my body perversely and I had to hold myself still to suppress a shudder of revulsion while he hovered so close I could feel his hot, sour breath on my face.
“Lock the door Matt,” Dale said finally, his eyes not leaving mine.
I glanced behind me as the big man secured the door, then back to Dale.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Dale chuckled and took a swig of the vodka off his desk. The men at the table had stopped playing cards and were all looking at me. Their table was littered with empty beer bottles, and their eyes were glazed.
“This is an audition, Bianca,” Dale sneered. “And for you to pass, we’re all going to take a turn with you.”
I started to back away, pulling my dress up to cover myself.
“This was a mistake,” I stammered. “I’d like to go.”
Dale stepped forward and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the cold steel door.
“Oh no you don’t, not until we’re done.”
My eyes went wide and I started to shake. I raised my hands to grip Dale’s fingers around my throat but that only made him laugh as the table of men got to their feet. How could I have been so stupid? How could I be so naive, that I thought they’d just give me access to their building and women? These men were hardened criminals, and now, they had me to do whatever they wanted with. I could scream, but who would hear me? Who would help me, when no one even knew I was here? Harry was right. Seth, Reya, they had all warned me but I didn’t listen. I had finally done it. I had gone too far.
Chapter Four
Beckett
Spending the afternoon at the office had been draining, pretending to be a version of myself that I’m not, but I’m back at it tonight. There’s a restlessness in me, there always is, and only one thing will calm the fire that’s running through my veins. When the doors opened into my penthouse I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it onto the couch. In the living room you could looks out on a panoramic view of the skyline; your worth in this city was determined by how high up you were.
There was a painted portrait of me as a child with my parents hanging proud and solemn over the fireplace mantle. Some days I thought about putting it in storage, but I needed to see their faces. I needed something of them to hold onto. Home sweet home.
I loosened my tie as I headed into my library, the familiar smell of leather and paperback books. Past the rows of hardcovers and first editions I pressed the button on the hidden panel of one specific floor to ceiling bookcase. The unit clicked, then swung open effortlessly. When I commissioned this alteration to my home it was designed as a three room panic room where I could stay for weeks if I wanted to. Now it was where I kept everything I needed to become the dangerous figure that took down criminals. The police needed to work within the law; produce search warrants and do their due process. I on the other hand followed none of those rules, I made my own. And lucky for me, I had limitless resources at my disposal to buy anything and everything I needed for my unique “hobby”.
I let the door close behind me. In the main room were my weapons, maps of the city, photos of targets and equipment. I unbuttoned my dress shirt, letting it fall down my arms, and started to get dressed with the outfit I wore on nights like this. I pulled on black pants and a shirt that were woven with kevlar to protect me, then a hardened top layer over my chest for additional protection against bullets. I secured the straps tight around my torso. A leather jacket hid everything and made me look like an average biker with an affinity for dark colors. Finally I pulled on a heavy black mask over my face obscuring my features and eyes. It fit over my entire head snugly, the eyes covered in a black reflective material you couldn’t see past to make out my eyes. Custom made.
They called me the Phantom, but that wasn’t my choice of name. If anyone had asked me, I felt more like a vengeful shadow. Standing tall in my protective gear I went over to the wall and chose my weapons for the evening, there were a lot of options. You could get anything on the black market with a suitcase full of cash, including unregistered guns. I chose two sleek black handguns and a high voltage taser. There was one man I wanted to answer my questions, the rest could die for all I cared. They were the worst of the worst and didn’t deserve to be breathing.
I went back to my notes, looking over the building plans of the warehouse. There was only one way in and out of where the men I was targeting met - the back door. No windows, no other connecting rooms. Subtlety wasn’t going to be needed this time, I was going to hit hard and fast. No prisoners, no mercy. I wanted the Venetti family, and I would burn this city to the ground to get to them.
Grabbing a helmet, I took my private elevator down to the section of the garage where my cars were kept. No one came here but me, I didn’t allow security cameras either. I took steps to maintain my secluded spaces. That was the thing about wealth, if you had enough of it you could afford to be a recluse. Or an eccentric maniac.
Ripping the sheet off my black motorcycle I slid on my helmet and stepped on, turning on the engine with a roar. It was time to go. I was coiled tight like a spring, ready to snap. Slipping out the garage and into the city I tore through the streets, the machine humming underneath me as I propelled my way in the direction I had carefully planned. I wove around cars, past casinos and busy streets, until finally I turned down the dark back alley where I parked. It was time.
Stepping off my bike, I removed my helmet then reached to my sides and smoothly slid the safety off my guns. Safe wasn’t my style, not when dealing with scum. Especially not scum that hurt women like my research had revealed these particular assholes did.
I could hear the music booming low and fast, matching my pulse, as I turned the corner to the back entrance. The main club entrance was out front, this is where the dirty deals were done. Where women were lured, then bought and sold like cattle. I pressed my back against the wall, getting ready, weapon in hand. There were heavy footsteps.
I whipped around the side of the brick wall then jammed my taser directly against the thick neck of the guard out back. There was a gurgle in his throat as his whole body jerked, then I whipped the back of my gun against his head. He dropped to the ground like a pile of rocks. Tensing my shoulders, I pulled the door open and walked inside. On the other side of the brick wall the music was so loud, they wouldn’t hear what I was doing. The things I was about to do, I didn’t want to be disturbed.
Outside the heavy metal door I heard screams and men laughing. Something bad was happening on the other side of the wall. Whatever they were doing, they were going to stop. They were going to give me answers, or I was going to start breaking bones one by one until I got them. But first, I needed to get past that locked door and knocking wasn’t going to be the answer. Luckily, locked doors were never a problem for me. From my pocket I pulled out a thick metal device with a flat end. I jammed it into the crack
of the door and pressed a button. With a crack of immense pressure, it broke the lock and the heavy door swung open. The scene inside made me freeze, but only for a split-second. Three men had a woman stripped and pinned to the couch, her makeup was streaky with tears and Dale Merrick was standing in front of her unbuttoning his pants.
“What the fuck?” Dale snapped when they locked eyes with me.
I pulled my guns free, faster than his goons whose hands were busy holding a helpless woman, and I fired. I was a good shoot, I never missed my target. In seconds they dropped to the ground, no longer protection for him or a problem for me. As I walked forward the woman cowered, she looked familiar somehow but I didn’t have time to stop. I was here for Dale. I walked fast as Dale lunged for his desk, pulling open drawers and scrambling for his gun. Too slow. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up, slamming his back onto his desk and smashing open a bottle of vodka. The liquid spread out underneath him, dribbling onto the floor and filling the air with its septic smell.
“Leave,” I shouted at the girl over my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her crawling for her dress, she was shaking all over. She should run, she was safe now. She didn’t need to see this.
“You know who I am?” I gripped Dale by the collar of his shirt.
“You’re a fucking dead man,” he spat back.
“Your boss. Marco Venetti. I know they have a safehouse in Vegas, where is it?”
Dale started to laugh. “I’m not telling you shit.”
I pulled my arm back and punched him across the jaw, hard enough that I heard a crack.
“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have told me everything.”
“Look out!”
A woman’s voice, a scream behind me. I moved to the side just in time to avoid a knife that jammed into the side of the desk. There was a big brute I hadn’t seen, I was so focused on getting to Dale I hadn’t cleared the room. Stupid mistake. I missed the knife but the big man grabbed for my throat, I twisted backwards out of his grip but he caught hold of my mask yanking it free.