Caught by Menace (34 page)

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.”

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

overfiled 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.

Painfuly thin and with hair cut as short as a boy’s, the

adolescent Naya wore il-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

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. He shuddered to think what kind

of violent pigs had put their hands on her.

“She told me al 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 tel 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. “Wel I guess that’s one

way of putting it, huh?”

“What the hel is that supposed to mean?”

“What the hel 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, Amalie. 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 stil 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 realy that good an

actress? More importantly, was he realy that stupid?

Could he have been such an easy mark?

“The files from the secret police tel us that Naya

started off doing smal 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 smal shipments at first, but she was

very good. Soon she was making a great deal of money.

very good. Soon she was making a great deal of 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 teling 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. Legaly she’s stil your property and I have

to ask permission. I’m teling 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.”

cooperation.”

Menace reeled with the awfulness of it al. 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 satelite cal and get

permission to do whatever he wanted to Naya. If he said

yes, maybe he could spare her some ugliness.

“I won’t alow Torment to put his hands on her,”

Vicious said quietly. “She may be a terrorist, but I won’t

alow a woman to be tortured on this ship.”

Staring at her, Menace couldn’t believe she’d fooled

him so easily. Had anything they’d shared been real?

Was it al a ruse? He didn’t think so. She couldn’t fake

their connection. She couldn’t fake the depth of affection

they shared when they made love.

But his love for her couldn’t overcome the awful truth.

Knowingly or unknowingly, he’d fed information to a

mole, and men, his brothers-in-arms, had been kiled.

The guilt of that would eat away at him until he drew his

last breath.

“Interrogate her.”

Terror let loose a relieved a breath. He clapped

Menace’s shoulder. “I’m sorry it went this way, Menace.

Menace’s shoulder. “I’m sorry it went this way, Menace.

I never wanted—”

“I know.” Deep down inside, he hoped she had a

good reason for betraying him. It wouldn’t make it any

easier to swalow but maybe he could learn to

understand it. Menace kept his gaze fixed on Naya,

trying to remember every detail of the face that had

ensnared him. There was no doubt in his mind. Once he

left this room, he would never see his wife again.

“Take him to another room and get his statement,

Torment. When you’re done, transfer custody to the

general.”

Torment grabbed his arm. “This way, Menace. I’l

make this quick and painless.”

Menace didn’t appreciate the galows humor. Head

hung with shame, he refused to meet Vicious’

compassionate gaze. He’d put every soldier and airman

in this sector at risk. Compassion wasn’t something he

deserved or even wanted.

Vicious grasped his shoulder and gave it a reassuring

squeeze. “It wil be al right, Menace.”

But it wouldn’t be.

Naya glanced at the door again. Her legs ached from

being seated so long. She’d tried bouncing her feet up

and down to maintain blood flow, but that only made her

ankles and arches burn. She needed to use the restroom

and her mouth was incredibly dry. Her stomach rumbled

with hunger and reminded her about the brunch date with

Halie she’d missed.

The room’s stark white wals and painfuly bright lights

made her slightly dizzy. A sensation of claustrophobia

crept into her chest. She inhaled slowly and folded her

arms on the table. She leaned forward and rested her

cheek on them.
Breathe. Just breathe.

How long had it been since she was separated from

Menace? Three hours? Four? She couldn’t tel. It

definitely felt that long. Was he in trouble? She prayed

that he would be spared. Whatever she’d done in her

past, it had nothing to do with Menace.

Eyes closed, she fought the urge to laugh at the irony

of her situation. Just last night she’d been “interrogated”

senseless. Now she shivered with fear at the very real

senseless. Now she shivered with fear at the very real

prospect of her fantasy becoming a true nightmare.

The door suddenly hissed and beeped as the locks

disengaged. Her stomach lurched but she muscled down

the urge to puke. She had to keep it together. Menace

would find a way to save her. She may not have trusted

him enough to tel al her secrets to him, but he had to

know how much she loved him. He was going to be

angry when he learned about what she’d done al those

years ago, but he would find a way to protect her. He

wasn’t her mother or her brother or any of the other

people who had let her down. He was Menace—and he

loved her. She believed that with every fiber of her being.

With al the swagger of a man who was untouchable,

Terror entered the interrogation cel. Another man

flanked him, this one sporting a battered face and injured

arm. He took up a position near the door. Terror strode

toward her. He had a brown folder clamped under one

arm and a tablet in the other hand. The folder she

recognized. She’d seen the same ones down in The City

and Connor’s Run when she’d been arrested.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Terror said and dropped

into the chair across from her. He placed the folder and

into the chair across from her. He placed the folder and

tablet on the table. “Interrogating Menace took longer

than I’d anticipated.”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She didn’t

dare let her expression change. She pushed down the

fear she felt for Menace and tried to keep a handle on

her emotions. Menace and Terror were friends. He

wouldn’t put his friend through an interrogation.
He’s

playing you.

“That’s Pierce. He’s one of my agents.” Terror

reached into his pocket and produced a smal piece of

candy. He took his time unwrapping and popping it into

his mouth. Totaly relaxed, he leaned back in his chair.

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now but I’m not

exactly a logistics clerk.”

“No! Realy? I’m shocked.” Past experience told her

the smart-ass routine was a quick way to catch a boot to

the face or worse but she couldn’t help herself. Sarcasm

had always been her default setting in times of fear.

“I’m sure you read me as easily as I read you.

Pawnshop girl from Connor’s Run?” He snorted. “I

hardly think so.”

Terror’s remark sent a quiver of doubt through her.

What, exactly, did Terror think her guilty of doing?

What, exactly, did Terror think her guilty of doing?

“Your radar seems to have a glitch, Terror. I realy am

just a pawnshop girl from Connor’s Run.”

He crunched the candy between his teeth. His

unwavering stare unnerved her. “This doesn’t have to

end badly, Naya. You can come clean right now and I

can pul some strings at your sentencing. Cooperate and

I’l show my gratitude.”

Sentencing? Naya’s heartbeat sped up but she tried to

regain control of her body.

“Tel me about the Grab.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Tel me about the Grab.”

“It was cool that morning. I was wearing shorts. I had

my hair in a ponytail. I ran with my friend Jennie. There

were lots of birds. It was sort of overcast.” She rattled

on at the mouth. “Have I told you enough?”

Terror clicked his teeth and sat forward. She fought

the urge to shrink back in her chair. Showing him

weakness would give him an easy victory.

“I know you weren’t on the original list. Your number

wasn’t puled in the lottery. You bought your way onto

the list. Why?”

the list. Why?”