by B. B. Hamel
“Go check the place out,” I said to Jimmy.
“What? No. You do it.”
“Go,” I said, annoyed. “Check for anything.”
“Like what?”
“Holy shit,” I said, turning to him. “Make me say it again.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll do it.”
“Lazy asshole.”
He flipped me off and then went upstairs.
I turned back to the Madame. “I’m sorry about him.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to that sort of man around here.”
“Look, what else can you tell me? Anything weird happen in the few weeks leading up to this?”
She shook her head, frowning. “Business has been a bit slow, but nothing unusual. Had a girl get pregnant two weeks ago, but we took care of that.”
I sighed, looking around the room. These Spiders were professionals as far as I could tell. From what I knew about the other attacks, we weren’t going to find anything. They didn’t leave shit behind, and they always took every single girl with them. They never killed the patrons, though they usually hurt them pretty bad.
The organization was very unhappy about the Spiders. Apparently they were hitting the Russians as well, and they were costing both of our groups a lot of fucking money. It wasn’t cheap to buy and train a bunch of girls from overseas, or at least so I was told. I wasn’t much into the economics of that sick shit, so I stuck with what I was good at.
“Okay,” I told Eloise. “I’ll take a look around.”
I walked away and began to pick through the wreckage on the off chance that one of the Spiders had decided to drop her fucking driver’s license. This whole thing was an annoying waste of time, but I had to go through the motions.
There was a smaller war going on, a war waging inside the mob itself. It was a war between those who wanted to keep buying and selling girls and those who didn’t.
Some men were against it because it wasn’t profitable anymore. Some men were against it because the whole practice was sick and barbaric. Sure, we were thieves and killers, but sex slavery was pretty fucked up, even by our standards.
Then there were those who saw sex slavery as the new business. They saw it as the future of our organization. Anyone could sell drugs and run guns and do all that shit, but only we had the resources to buy and sell girls.
It was a quiet war. Nobody had died from it, at least not yet. But it was simmering beneath the surface, and I could tell that one day it would bubble over.
“By the way,” Eloise said as I went to leave the room, “I just remembered. Some reporter was sniffing around here maybe a month back.”
“Reporter?”
“Sure. Young girl, maybe mid-twenties. Pretty thing. She was asking questions she shouldn’t be asking.”
“Like what?”
“Like how many girls I had. How many of them were from eastern Europe. That sort of thing.”
I frowned. “You think that’s important?”
She shrugged. “Fuck if I know. It was just out of the ordinary.”
“Thanks,” I said. She nodded and walked off, back into another room.
So a journalist had been snooping. A young, pretty journalist. I didn’t know if that meant something or if it was just a coincidence, but I was going to have to follow it up. I wasn’t the type to get accused of being bad at my job after all.
I heard a loud thud, a crash, and some cursing. I sighed and headed to the foot of the stairs just in time to hear the Madame yelling obscenities at Fat Jimmy. He laughed and stumbled into the hall.
“You dumb fucking pig,” she yelled. “This place is trashed enough. You sick motherfucker.”
He was laughing and buttoning up his pants.
“Jimmy,” I barked. “Get down here.”
He grinned and came down toward me. “What’s up?”
“What did you do?”
“Just had a little go. Did you know they have a room full of porn up there?”
Jesus fucking shit. That pathetic bastard.
“You dumb asshole. Keep it in your pants.”
“Whatever.” He shrugged. “We done?”
“We’re done. Come on.” I led the way back outside.
Jimmy followed, that fat fuck.
We climbed back into the car, but I was already thinking about that girl again. I couldn’t get her hips out of my mind, the way she fucking kissed me, like she was reluctant, afraid, but fucking dripping wet. That made me hard just thinking about it.
Fortunately, I had her number. For the first time in my life, maybe I was actually going to call a girl back.
3
Cassidy
The park was beautiful, but I was not going to do a beautiful thing
Or maybe I was. I was trying to do something good, but I kept finding myself getting stuck at a dead end or backed into some corner of my own devising. I needed to get myself together and finally buckle down, or else I was going to let this story get away from me.
It was pretty crowded, but that wasn’t surprising. It was Sunday afternoon, the day after I nearly let that mafia man do whatever he wanted to me. In the bright sunlight of the afternoon, I felt totally foolish for the way I had reacted to him.
I’d never done that before with a stranger. I’d never followed a man outside like that and kissed him with the intention of doing more, let alone allowed a guy to talk to me that way.
And yet when Rafa had said those words to me, I had believed him. He had somehow made it seem completely normal that I’d go out into the alley with him and give myself to him. I’d wanted it, too, to make it that much worse. I had wanted it really, really badly.
As I sat down on the bench and scanned the park, I did my best to banish that man from my mind. This meeting was about something far more important than some attractive thug. I checked my watch, satisfied that I was ten minutes early.
Young mothers watched their children play. People walked their dogs, young couples lounged on blankets, and a man with cutoff jean shorts was playing an acoustic guitar for tips.
I’d gotten in touch with her through another informant I’d met while researching human trafficking. That guy turned out to be a loser, but this new contact seemed solid. She sounded like a real insider, someone who knew the city and knew what was going on. I had high hopes for her, but I was also nervous.
“Nice day.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I looked over, and a pretty woman was sitting next to me. She was wearing simple jeans and a light blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I recognized her from a picture. She smiled at me.
“Uh, yeah, it is,” I said. “Very nice day.”
“Are you meeting someone here?”
I blinked at her, a hint of recognition tugging at my mind. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. What’s her name?”
I paused. I didn’t want to tip my hand. What if this wasn’t her? “I don’t know her name.”
The woman smiled. “My name is Dasha. It’s nice to actually meet you, Cassidy.”
She was my contact. I let out a breath and cocked my head, getting a better look at her. She was maybe twenty-five or so, right around my age. I couldn’t believe my contact was so young, but it had to be her. Besides, I recognized the voice, just a hint of a Russian accent.
“Good to meet you, Dasha.”
“Beautiful day.”
“It really is. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course. That tip about that whorehouse you gave me panned out.”
“What tip?”
She laughed. “You didn’t even realize, did you?”
“I guess not; no.”
“You mentioned a whorehouse you investigated. Well, you were right. It was filled with girls.”
“Holy shit,” I said, shocked. “I was in there.”
“I know. I’d lie low for a few weeks if I were you.”
“What are you talking about?”
She smiled at me again. “Cass
idy, what do you know about the Barone crime family?”
“They’re the biggest mob family in the Midwest. They control this city, basically.”
“That’s right. But what about their enemies?”
“The Russians.” I shrugged. “That’s it, really.”
“Wrong. There’s one more group, a group of people dedicated to stopping certain barbaric practices.”
“What do you mean?”
“They call us the Spiders.” She looked out across the park. “We adopted that name. It suits us, I guess. We’re black widows, women killers. We kill to save the innocent from those bastards.”
“You’re part of a gang? I assumed you were one of the girls.”
“I was, a while back. But someone saved me, and now I save others.”
“And you call yourselves the Spiders?” I started to get my voice recorder from my pocket.
She held up her hand. “Don’t record.”
“Please, you have to let me. This is so important.”
“I’m telling you too much, mostly because that tip was so good. We saved a lot of girls.”
“At least tell me I can use this in my article.”
“You can, but I wouldn’t. You’ll become a target almost instantly.”
“I’m not afraid.”
She looked at me seriously, frowning. “You should be afraid, Cassidy. Very afraid. That’s why I came today.”
“To warn me?”
“To warn you,” she confirmed. “Lie low. Don’t pry into anything for a little while, at least until this blows over.”
“What did you do?”
“Like I said, we saved some lives.”
“I can’t let this go. This is too big. There’s another gang of women out there saving sex slaves. It’s just unreal.”
She stood up. “It’s real, Cassidy. We’re not winning, but we will be soon. You need to take care of yourself. We’ll take care of everyone else.” She began to walk away.
I stood up. “Wait. Please. Tell me more. How can I contact you again?”
“You can’t,” she said, waving. “Good luck, Cassidy. Don’t ignore my warning.” She continued walking, and I watched her go, staring at her back.
My mind was practically reeling from that short meeting. I had assumed she was just another interesting informant. From our single conversation on the phone, I could tell she knew a thing or two, so I had guessed she had been a slave at some point.
But she was so much more. If she’d been telling the truth, she was some kind of freedom fighter. Not just her, but a whole group of these girls who were fighting for the freedom of sex slaves, fighting against one of the most powerful organized crime groups in the whole country.
That was so freaking badass.
I couldn’t help but feel nervous, though. She came to this meeting only to warn me, she had said. We’d set the meeting up at the end of our conversation, and I was guessing if my information had fallen through, she would have skipped. But she had come, and to tell me to lie low.
I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know how to lie low, not now that I knew something so huge.
There was just no way I could back down now.
The Spiders. I sat back down, taking deep breaths. I wondered how many people in the city even knew about these people. I had never heard of them, and I’d read almost everything about sex trafficking in the city that I could possibly get my hands on. Nobody had mentioned any Spiders anywhere.
I had an incredibly important tip here. I couldn’t let it go; this story was just too important.
As I stood up to head home, my phone started vibrating. I pulled it out of my pocket and frowned at the number.
This had been a weird enough day already. I figured it couldn’t get any weirder.
“Hello?” I said.
“Jessica.” That voice. It hit me like a bite of ice between my teeth.
“Rafa,” I said. “Uh, hi.”
“I was thinking about you.”
“Were you?”
“I was thinking about our unfinished business. Have you been thinking about the way I pressed you against that door?”
“No,” I lied. “I’m pretty busy.”
“I’m sure you are. But I want to see you again.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“No, but I like bad ideas.”
I bit my lip, staring at the ground. This was exactly the sort of thing Dasha wouldn’t want me to do. I definitely shouldn’t be going out with a mafia man.
“Okay,” I said.
“Good. Tonight?”
“Fine. I can do tonight.”
“I’ll text you the details.”
“Wait. What are you going to do with me?”
He laughed softly. “You’ll see.”
And then he hung up the phone.
I let out a breath and realized my whole body was tense.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and knew I was making a mistake. I should definitely stay far, far away from this Rafa guy, especially considering the way he made me feel.
Pure, instant attraction. Maybe it was lust; I couldn’t be sure. Maybe there was something else there, too.
But I definitely wanted him, against my better judgment.
Still, I needed to be careful. Even though he seemed like he was only interested in the same thing I was, I still didn’t know him. He was probably mafia, but maybe he was just connected to them somehow. I had no real clue either way.
I could pretend like I was using him for this story, but that was stupid. I wasn’t really capable of that. Going to that bar with the intention of overhearing things and chatting up a guy had been total insanity, and I was thankful Rafa had snapped me out of it.
But now I was afraid of what else he was going to do.
I took a deep breath and hurried back home. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew it was Rafa telling me exactly what he wanted from me tonight.
I felt a thrill as I took my phone out of my pocket and read the message.
4
Rafa
I stood outside the building, leaning up against the wall.
This might not have been my best idea ever, but I couldn’t help myself, apparently. I didn’t know this girl, and she could have been a fucking spy or some shit like that, but that wasn’t stopping me. I’d been dealing with enough shit lately, and for once I wanted a little fucking distraction.
And Jessica was the perfect distraction. I’d been thinking about her ever since the moment I walked away from her, and now I was finally going to pick up where I had reluctantly left off.
Nothing was stopping this tonight short of a fucking emergency.
After about ten minutes, a cab pulled up at the curb. She climbed out and I felt my pulse spike in my veins, and that distinct and familiar feeling came rushing back.
She smiled at me, a little unsure. “Where are we?” she asked.
I couldn’t help but laugh. She was wearing shorts that made her ass look fantastic and a shirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination. It screamed sex to me, but it was nice enough that she didn’t feel too dirty, I was willing to bet.
“Never heard of The Bar?”
“That’s what I’m asking. Which bar?”
I laughed again, grinning hugely. We were standing in a mostly empty neighborhood outside a windowless white building with absolutely zero markers on it.
“It’s called ‘The Bar.’ That’s the name.”
She groaned. “That’s awful.”
“Maybe, but you’ll like it.”
“It looks like a prison.”
I walked over to the door and knocked. A second later, a slide flicked across and a man’s eyes looked out at me.
“Fidelio,” I said to him.
The slide shut with a bang.
Jessica sidled up next to me. “This is seriously like a movie.”
“That’s the idea.”
The door slowly swung open. Music flooded
out into the street. I stepped inside and she followed me slowly.
The Bar was a new concept place, but I happened to know a guy. We moved into the darkened room and everything was polished wood. It was strangely modern, as if someone had decided to build an updated British pub or something like that. The place was crowded, despite the outside of the building and the relatively remote location. Everyone was young and cool, or older and filthy rich.
I was right in the middle, where I fucking liked to be. Rich but not a fucking millionaire, young but not a douchebag hipster. Jessica fit right in.
“Right this way,” a man said to us as we passed into the main room. We followed him, and he sat us at a little table in the corner of the place.
“How did you even know about this?” she asked.
“It’s pretty popular right now,” I said. “Plus, I’m in the restaurant business.”
She smiled slightly. A waiter came up and I ordered a whisky. She asked for a white wine.
When he was gone, I leaned toward her. “Are you glad you came?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I haven’t decided.”
I smirked at her. “That’s a lie. I can tell your mind is already on what we’ll do after we eat.”
“You mean when you walk me home and you may or may not get a chaste kiss on the mouth?”
“I was thinking I’d take you back to my place, but we wouldn’t be able to wait until we got there. I’d end up going down on you right in the backseat of the cab.”
“Oh really, while the cabbie watched?”
“We’d pay him handsomely, obviously.”
“I don’t know. That sounds pretty gross.”
I shrugged, grinning at her. “What can I say? I bring the best out in people.”
She couldn’t help but laugh as our drinks came. I held mine up. “Cheers,” I said.
“Cheers.” We clinked glasses. “So, you said you were in the restaurant business?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, what is it then?”
“I own two restaurants. And a few other businesses.”