Page 72 of Caught By Menace

But he recognized the subtle signs. As her husband, he’d learned to read her like a book. Menace glanced at Torment. With his infamous interrogation skills, that man would have no problem recognizing her signs either. With that knowledge, Torment could do terrible things.

“I know that Naya was in your office yesterday,” Terror said. “I know that you talked to her about the new weapons we’re acquiring. Later she was captured on video entering an access closet. I believe she used the access to the ship’s systems to upload and broadcast a signal to her Splinter counterparts.”

Agog, Menace asked, “Do you have my office bugged?” He slashed his hand through the air. “And that’s not what happened. I took her into that closet. The camera in my office doesn’t have a full view of that side of the room.”

Terror’s gaze grew suspicious. “Why?”

“Why do you think, Ter? It’s a dark closet without security cameras.”

Pierce snorted with amusement. “I think you just bought yourself a disciplinary action from your commanding officer.”

Terror wasn’t going to let the honest explanation slide. “If you were distracted by having pussy on the brain, it’s no surprise that she managed to work you for intel.”

Menace took a step toward Terror. “You better watch it. I may be cuffed but I can still kick your ass.”

“She’s a mole, Menace!” Terror shouted in anger. “Don’t be so fucking blind. She used you.”

Menace gawked at Terror. “That’s crazy. She’s no mole.”

“I already know that she worked very closely with the Red Feather,” Terror countered. “It’s one step from political dissidence to terrorism.”

Behind them, Vicious cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t go that far, Terror. The Red Feather has done a lot of good. They’ve worked with us quite a bit in the last few months and provided a great deal of intel and aid.”

“Naya’s cover as some simple girl from Connor’s Run who ran a pawnshop and does good works for the Red Feather doesn’t jibe with the truth, Vee.” Terror held out his hand and Torment slapped an oversized and overfilled brown folder into it. “I got her police records. This woman is no stranger to trouble.”

The folder hit the countertop jutting out from beneath the one-way mirror. Terror started whipping out paper arrest records and photographs. “She has two arrests for theft as a child. She was picked up for smuggling medicine and technology as a teenager but managed to escape before she could be booked or processed. I suspect her Red Feather friends bounced her from the police station and helped her disappear.”

Menace stared at the arrest photographs of Naya. Painfully thin and with hair cut as short as a boy’s, the adolescent Naya wore ill-fitting men’s clothing. It occurred to him that she’d probably taken on a boy’s persona while living on the streets to protect herself from kidnapping or rape. The expression of defiance on her face didn’t surprise him.

Terror didn’t stop there. “She was suspected of being part of a gunrunning ring out of The City. They tried to sweep her up in their stings, but she managed to evade them four times. The fifth time she wasn’t so lucky.”

A booking photo of an older Naya, maybe eighteen or nineteen, hit the counter. A black eye and split lip marred her beautiful face. She wore only a man’s tank top and low-cut panties in the photograph. By the look of her mussed hair, she’d been roused from bed and hauled in for questioning. Bruises were already forming on her upper arms and neck. Heshuddered to think what kind of violent pigs had put their hands on her.

“She told me all this.” Menace lifted his gaze to Terror’s face. “Not the part about the guns but the rest of it.” He didn’t add how much it hurt him that she’d kept this vital piece of information from him.

“And did she tell you about her family? About her brother and her mother?”

Menace nodded. “Her mother ran off when she was six. Her brother abandoned her when she was a teenager.”

Terror laughed with disbelief. “Well I guess that’s one way of putting it, huh?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she lied to you, Menace.” Terror retrieved two photographs and rap sheets. The similarities between the older woman and younger man and Naya were striking. “This is Naya’s mother, Amallie. She’s now the most notorious gunrunner in this sector and lives in The City, not sixty miles from Naya’s shop in Connor’s Run. Her late husband was the leader of the Sixer gang, a violent group of thugs who work with the Splinters. This is Nattie, her older brother. Our most recent intel says he’s become a drug-addicted loser but he still provides muscle for his mama.”

Menace didn’t know what to say. Numbness spread through his body. That night in his kitchen when Naya had spoken of her family, the pain on her face and in her voice had been so real. Was she really that good an actress? More importantly, was he really that stupid? Could he have been such an easy mark?

“The files from the secret police tell us that Naya started off doing small jobs for the Red Feather to eat and survive on the streets. When she was thirteen or fourteen, she started getting jobs from the Sixers to run guns. They were small shipments at first, but she was very good. Soon she was making a great dealof money. How else do you think a homeless orphan girl got her hands on the cash necessary to fund a pawnshop at eighteen?”

Menace didn’t have an answer. He remembered their conversation about the gun shipment. What had she said? They couldn’t ensure the safety of every shipment? Was that her coded way of telling him that her people were going to steal the weapons?

Betrayal surged through him. The burning pain of it threatened to choke the life right out of him. He’d bought her sob story hook, line and sinker. He’d believed that she was the one. When Flare had wanted to take her away from him, he had fought for her. After showing her nothing but kindness and love and patience, she had lied to him.

Terror put both hands on his shoulders. “I have to question her. Legally she’s still your property and I have to ask permission. I’m telling you right now that I won’t hesitate to go above Vee’s head to get that permission granted. Please,” Terror said gently, “give me permission. Let me help you. I can’t keep you out of prison, but I can save your life if you give her up. Show some cooperation.”

Menace reeled with the awfulness of it all. There was no choice here. Even if he said no, even if he tried to protect the woman he’d grown to love so deeply, Terror would make one subspace satellite call and get permission to do whatever he wanted to Naya. If he said yes, maybe he could spare her some ugliness.

“I won’t allow Torment to put his hands on her,” Vicious said quietly. “She may be a terrorist, but I won’t allow a woman to be tortured on this ship.”

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