by Nicole Fox
His disregard and the sight of them canoodling hit me like a physical blow. I felt paralyzed. Every option before me seemed horrible. No matter what I did, somebody would get hurt.
“Please, sir, listen to me—”
“Connor, if you can’t control your whore, you’re going to have to get her out of here.”
I winced. Connor reached out and, to my surprise, took my hand. He squeezed it in a comforting way that made me think that he, at least, was on my side.
“Be quiet,” he whispered to me. “We’ll figure this out. I think it’s best to wait until Honi’s not around.”
I jumped, astounded that he had used her real name. How long had he known it? And if he knew Honi was lying, obviously he knew I was lying as well. Could he possibly have guessed that I was Farrah?
I wanted to pour out all these questions to him, one by one, but he was right. Better to talk to Montengo when Honi was not around. She possessed him like a drug; she seemed all fun and glamor, but deep down, she was highly manipulative.
“So, boys,” Honi continued, smug in her triumph. “Where exactly did you intend to place the bait?” She prolonged each word like one would prolong eating a delicious fruit.
Connor sighed and glanced at Joey. “We were thinking of renting a cabin out in the sticks and leaking a rumor that we were bringing Farrah there as a ‘safe house.’ We would be surrounding the place, obviously, and could take it once Minghelli was inside.”
“I have a better idea,” Honi exclaimed, her eyes glinting with glee. “A cabin is too far away. Minghelli might not bother for a worthless whore like Princess. I think we should stage things here, in the city. Somewhere that is bound to draw him. How about …The Berth of Venus?”
Connor’s eyes widened, and I felt myself kindling with rage. I knew why Honi wanted me at the Berth. It would be a reminder of my place, a ‘whore in a whorehouse.’
Hesitantly, Joey cut in.
“Sir,” he said, “I really don’t think the Berth is a good idea. There are too many entrances and exits, and it’s in the middle of a busy city street. It would be very hard not to draw attention to ourselves.”
“Aw, come on!” Honi whined. Every sound that issued out of her throat made me think of nails on a chalkboard. “I think you can do it. What, are you too scared to set that trap there?”
Connor and Joey narrowed their gazes, obviously too smart to be pulled in by Honi’s tricks.
Montengo, evidently, was not.
“There ain’t nothing my boys are afraid of!” he exclaimed. “The Devil’s Wings can do it! The Berth of Venus it is!”
Joey, Connor, and I all sighed in unison. It amazed me that someone this stupid and easily led had managed to become president of the biker’s club. My father would have been disgusted.
“All right, gentlemen,” Montengo continued. “I want you to take this time to begin planning. I want it ready to go by midnight. There’s no time to waste. The sooner this Minghelli conflict is over and off my precious Farrah’s back, the better!”
“Yes, sir,” Connor and Joey mumbled. Things had obviously not gone as they had expected. Actually, the only person in the room who looked happy was Honi. She was grinning broadly as Montengo scooped her up and carried her from the room, leaving the three of us alone.
We sat in silence for a while, stunned by the turn of events and not sure what to do next. At last, Joey turned towards me and said, quite politely, “Princess, what were you going to say before? When Montengo cut you off?”
I sighed. I had been so prepared to confess that, once the opportunity was gone, I felt strangely letdown. Like getting onto a roller coaster only to have it die before you leave the gate. Now I had the chance again. Should I take it? I was so tired of lying. And once Tom Minghelli confronted me—which I knew he would, if we followed Honi’s plan—it might become impossible to keep up the charade.
I glanced at Connor, seeking support. He smiled grimly at me, and nodded.
“Go ahead,” he said quietly.
“All right,” I said, folding my hands in my lap and turning to look them both right in the eye. “I … I have been lying to you all this time. Honi … the girl claiming to be Farrah Michaels? Well, she isn’t. She is a whore who worked at the Berth of Venus, under my aunt.”
“Your …” Murmured Joey.
“That’s right. My aunt. Connor, Joey, I am the real Farrah Michaels. Honi lied to escape a life of prostitution, and once I figured out that Minghelli was after us, I knew I couldn’t give her away.”
“I knew it!” Joey burst, pumping his fist into the air. “You see, Connor? I told you, didn’t I? I knew there was something funny about this girl!”
Connor, however, hadn’t made a sound. He was staring stonily ahead, not quite looking at me. I had seen statues with more of an expression. At last, he murmured, “Why are the Minghellis hunting you? Or were you lying about that as well?”
I pressed my fists into my eyes in frustration. I knew he would be angry at me when this finally came out, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it.
“I told you as much as I could,” I sighed. “You see, last Christmas I witnessed something … horrible.”
“What did you see?” asked Joey gently.
“I saw …Tom Minghelli strangling one of my aunt’s whores. I caught it on tape, too. I know that’s why he’s after me. He wants to destroy me, and with me, the evidence.”
“Christ,” Joey whispered. “That’s horrible!”
But Connor was too smart for that. He leaned in close, arresting me with his eyes. “And where is that evidence now?”
Should I tell them? It was my final secret, my own personal ace up the sleeve. Marshalling my courage, I took a deep breath, looked him square in the eye, and said, “It’s encrypted.”
And that was it. Joey let out a long sigh, and Connor swore under his breath.
“So what are we going to do now?” Joey asked after a moment. “Should we tell Montengo?”
“Ye—” I started to say, but Connor cut me off.
“No,” he stated. “Not yet. If you suddenly show up and declare that you’re Farrah Michaels, Montengo is going to see it at as cowardice. He’s going to think you’re some conniving whore who is lying to save her own skin.”
A thrill of fear surged through me. “But … that’s not what you think? You believe me, right?”
Connor’s gaze washed over me. It was at once angry, frustrated, disappointed, and proud. He was, at least, looking at me like a person.
“Yes, I believe you,” he said at last. “I’ve known from the start that there was something strange about you, Princess … Or should I say, Farrah.”
Farrah. I heard him say my name, and a delightful warmth rippled through me, as if someone had just played a beautiful toll of a bell.
Then, his voice took on a more businesslike tone. “I think if that asshole had managed to let you confess before Honi made her plan, he would have believed you. We have all the suspicions I have carried, plus your monetary skill. Is it safe to assume that Honi isn’t a laundering genius?”
I snorted, then felt instantly bad about it. “No, she’s not,” I admitted. “The only think Honi has ever been any good at is getting involved with the right men at the right time.”
Joey and Connor nodded. They could see my point.
“That still doesn’t answer my question. What do we do now?” Joey repeated.
Connor leaned close, putting his elbows on his knees. “We have to find a way to keep Princess … I’m sorry, Farrah,from being forced to go to the Berth,” he said. “Either we need to come up with a different plan, or we need to find a way to trick Montengo into using Honi instead—”
“No,” I interrupted. “No, we can’t do that. I know what Honi has been doing is wrong, but I can’t hate her. I … I guess I pity her. She’s suffered all her life for things that weren’t her fault, and it’s not fair that she should be put in danger because of me. Whether as Princes
s or Farrah, I need to be the one who goes as bait. This is my problem, and I need to deal with it myself.”
Ten long seconds of silence greeted my little speech. Then, Joey chuckled, smacking his hands on his knees. “Jesus, Connor! You’ve got your one! She’s as brave and crazy as you are!”
I blushed, while Connor merely scowled at him.
“Farrah,” he said, turning towards me. “You don’t need to do this. You’ve already proved to me that you’re braver and tougher than any woman I know.”
Now it was my turn to scowl. “It’s not about being brave,” I said. “It’s about doing what’s right. Honi’s just a bystander, in way over her head. But me … us … we can handle this. It’s what we were made for.”
“Hell yeah!” Joey exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “Let’s do it! Man, you guys have got me buzzed!”
I looked to Connor. “Connor … what do you think?”
He sighed, and scraped his temple with his knuckles. “Is this really what you want to do, Farrah? What you really, actually want to do? You’re not a whore anymore. You do what you want.”
I smiled at him, appreciating the out he was giving me. He really does care, I thought.
That didn’t mean I was going to take his offer.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s what I want to do. I’m tired of running and hiding and lying. Let’s lay our trap and take care of Mr. Fucking Minghelli for good!”
Joey cheered. Connor nodded, already thinking about the plan. And me? Outwardly, I smiled and caroused with Joey, but inwardly, I was thinking, Farrah, what the flying fuck have you gotten yourself into?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Connor
By eleven o’clock that evening, Farrah and I were waiting outside the Berth. It was a weekday, which meant that the streets were fairly empty, and the building appeared vacant. Minghelli had obviously not found what he was looking for there and had abandoned it.
However, he wasn’t a complete idiot, and that was what we were depending on. An armed thug, clearly in his employ, circled around the lot three or four times an hour in a nondescript gray car, perfect for spying. Minghelli obviously suspected that Farrah might choose to come back at some point—an assumption on which our plan depended.
Farrah. It was still so strange thinking of her by that name. I glanced over at her, seated beside me at the café across the street from the Berth, her conspicuous hair tucked under a man’s cap. A few of the blonde wisps had escaped, and the sea breeze coming in from the bay caught them and tossed them about her piercing blue eyes. As Princess, she had been sexy. As Farrah, she was beautiful.
“All right, guys,” my walkie-talkie buzzed. “I’m in place, awaiting your order.”
It was Joey. He was three blocks down the road, right outside a laundromat that we knew was a prop for Minghelli’s mob movements. He had about ten guys with him. On my say so, they would storm the laundromat, creating as much noise and chaos as possible. It was a diversion, to draw the bulk of Minghelli’s men away from the Berth of Venus. It would be dangerous for Joey, but not as dangerous as the mission which awaited Farrah and me.
We would be going in alone, presumably to search the house. Outside, five more Devil’s Wings would be waiting in case we needed them, but I suspected that wouldn’t be the case. Tom Minghelli would be so tired of this whole mess that I predicted he would show up himself to end things. I also guessed that he wouldn’t bring a whole army with him. This was a personal matter. I knew how he thought: To him, Farrah was just an out-of-line whore who needed to be put into her place. He wouldn’t want an army to help him with that. He wasn’t afraid of no useless whore.
I knew that that was what he would be thinking, because I used to think that way myself. But when I looked at Farrah, wearing a woman’s leather biking outfit with three different knives concealed inside, I knew that Minghelli was stupid not to be afraid.
I, for my part, was in awe of her.
“You ready, Farrah?” I asked. I wondered if she would be afraid.
“Yes,” she said, her voice perfectly clear and steady. “Let’s end this.”
I grinned and kissed her.
“Okay,” I said. “There’s the tail. We’ve got to make sure we’re seen and then we give Joey the order.”
“Right,” she said, and stood up.
The gray car pulled around the corner, coming down the street towards us. With her eyes straight ahead, as if she didn’t see it, Farrah marched boldly across the road, right up to the door of the Berth of Venus. There was a lockbox there, and Farrah expertly keyed in the code, making it clear for anyone watching that she was familiar with this place.
The watcher saw. I could tell by the way his eyebrows rose over his dark sunglasses. In a flash, he reached down to his belt to grab a cellphone, which he dialed immediately.
This was my cue.
“All right, Joey. Go!” I hissed into my walkie-talkie.
“Roger that,” he said, and then, before he disconnected, I heard his whoop of wild abandon and the sound of his squad charging in.
I grinned and switched off the talkie. I didn’t want it going off and alerting someone I was there. Besides, I wouldn’t be any help to Joey anyway. He and the other Devil’s Wings were on their own.
Farrah went inside. The watcher pulled away, breaking his loop to either go to Joey’s disturbance or to pick up Minghelli himself. This was my chance to follow Farrah. I knew we didn’t have long before Minghelli arrived.
“All right,” I said, joining Farrah in the entrance hall. I took a second to look around and appreciate just how high-class this building was, even with the evidence of the Minghelli’s rough search strewn all around. Venus Michaels had obviously been a sophisticated woman, and it sent a pang through me that the Devil’s Wings hadn’t leapt at the chance to own this place as well.
“So, where do you want to do it?” I asked her.
“You mean fuck?” she teased, laughing. “Any of the rooms are great, but I’ve always preferred the seashell room.”
I scowled. I wanted her to take this seriously. I was about to open my mouth to scold her when I realized that she was taking this seriously—deadly seriously—and that was why she was joking. She used laughter to make herself feel better. Just like Joey did.
Feeling fond of her, I approached and gave a waist a squeeze. “For real, Farrah. Which room?”
“The Ocean Suite,” she said darkly. “That was where Vanessa was murdered. I want him to feel the chill of it when he dies.”
Her voice was venomous, deadly in its power. My God, was she attractive.
“All right, Farrah. Lead on.”
Taking us through the whorehouse, I was impressed more and more with the size and luxury of the place. I wondered what had happened to all the whores who had worked here before Venus’s death. Probably they’d gone on to lesser houses, missing this great place. They certainly wouldn’t have gone to the Devil’s Wings. By the looks of it, all the good whores of this place would be out of our price range.
Besides, we had someone even better: Farrah.
Before we could make it to the Ocean Suite, Farrah stopped by a small security room. Much of it was smashed up, either from the searching or the stupid violence of Minghelli’s men. Fortunately, the cameras and the main computer were still working. She switched them on, and soon a number of screens flickered into life, revealing still shots of a number of the whorehouse’s rooms.
“This is how I saw him in the first place,” Farrah explained. “It couldn’t hurt to catch him again on camera. I get the vibe that Tom Minghelli doesn’t like to be filmed.”
I laughed and stroked a strand of Farrah’s hair. “Good thinking,” I said. “Smart.” It occurred to me how easy it was becoming to think of her as Farrah, this smart, sexy woman who obviously knew her shit. It also occurred to me that, deep down, part of me had always thought of her as Farrah—ever since she’d introduced herself that way that night at the bar.
O
nce the computers were set up, we headed to the Ocean Suite. It was a fine room for the needed activities, with a large, clean, expensive bed, numerous fluffy chairs, and a soft rug.
“He killed her there,” said Farrah, pointing. All evidence of it had, of course, been scrubbed away, but I still felt a small chill at the knowledge.
All of this over a dead whore, I thought. Who could have imagined?
I glanced at Farrah. She was certainly redefining what I thought of as a whore.
“Where are you going to hide?” Farrah asked me. We had, of course, discussed options at the clubhouse, but it was always important to reassess once you were actually on the battlefield.