Caught by Menace

by Lolita Lopez

  Terror’s face greeted him. Menace instantly noticed the tightness to his friend’s expression. He’d known Terror long enough to read him easier than most. Something bad had happened.

  Terror’s one-eyed gaze moved over Menace’s sweaty, half-dressed form. “I hope you enjoyed that. It’s probably going to be the last fuck you ever have with her.”

  Shock tore through Menace. Anger followed quickly. “How dare you—”

  “Spare me.” Terror threw his arm out, hitting Menace right in the throat and knocking him off balance. He shoved his way inside and pushed Menace into the wall. “Where the hell is she?”

  Enraged by his friend’s treatment, Menace slammed both hands into Terror’s chest and forced him against the opposite wall. “What is wrong with you? You can’t barge into my home and demand to see my wife.”

  “Actually I can.” Terror snapped his fingers and more soldiers, all of them decked out in full gear and carrying weapons at the ready, poured into his hallway. Menace gaped at the sight of Raze and Venom. Both men looked unhappy to be there.

  Raze stepped between them. He put up a hand to stop Terror from advancing and glanced at Menace. “Let’s give them five minutes to get dressed.”

  “I’ll supervise,” Venom offered. “We want them to cooperate.”

  Cooperate? Menace’s gut twisted with fear. What the fuck was happening?

  Terror exhaled roughly. “Fine. Five minutes, but if I hear either of them talking, they’re both getting hoods.”

  Cold with dread, Menace stared at Terror. This was the version of his friend he’d hoped never to meet. This version of Terror could make a person disappear. This version of Terror was more dangerous than anything else in the entire arsenal of the Harcos forces.

  “Come on.” Venom grasped his upper arm and jerked him forward. “Move, Menace.”

  They entered the bedroom. Naya stood next to the bed, eyes wide in panic, and gripped the top sheet to her shield her body. He started to speak, but Venom’s grip tightened.

  Venom shook his head and addressed Naya. “Ma’am, you have five minutes to shower and dress. If you say one word, I’ll be forced to separate the two of you.”

  Menace watched her expression morph from one of pure fear to one of resignation. She hurried to the closet, grabbed her clothing and rushed into the bathroom. Menace followed her lead. He shot Venom a glance as the other man trailed him into the bathroom. He’d spent enough time living in close quarters on the front lines to have no issue going about his morning bathroom ritual with another man watching. Naya was a different story.

  She didn’t meet his eye as she jumped in and out of the shower or when she toweled off and slipped into her clothing. Her usual modesty and embarrassment fled. Fear had activated those survival instincts that had kept her alive and safe so long in Connor’s Run. He hoped she could stay calm and cool while they dealt with whatever the hell this was.

  Rinsing off in the shower, Menace let his brain spit out various scenarios. Each seemed more unlikely than the first. Obviously something screwy was going on here. He didn’t believe for one moment that Terror actually believed he was guilty of anything. They’d known each other since they were children. Their bond and trust was much too deep for that.

  But Naya…

  Menace spotted her waiting near the door. Even with that brave expression and her squared shoulders, she was still afraid. Lingering in the bathroom and near him made her feel secure. His chest ached at the realization she wouldn’t have him to lean on when they were taken from their quarters.

  As he dressed, he remembered her fear of Terror. He’d written it off as the usual feminine fright. Had he been wrong? Was Terror really after Naya? Why? What in the world could she possibly know that would make him this upset?

  Those answers would come soon enough. Venom stepped between them, preventing Menace from even touching Naya, and walked the two of them out of the bathroom. Menace’s jaw dropped as he saw how quickly Terror’s team of Shadow Force operatives had tossed their quarters. The mess would take hours to clean and they were still dumping drawers. Terror stabbed the mattress with the gnarly knife he carried and ripped the protective covering. What he thought he would find hidden in there, Menace could only guess.

  “Found it, sir!” A young operative Menace had never met held up Naya’s red notebook. Triumphant, he brought it to Terror who thumbed through the encoded pages.

  He glanced at Naya, narrowing his one eye, and then slapped the book against the young man’s chest. “Get this to Cipher.”

  “Yes, sir.” The operative scurried from the room.

  Standing near the doorway, Raze kept his weapon lowered. He met Menace’s questioning gaze and gave the tiniest, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Whatever was going on here, neither Raze nor Venom wanted any part of it. Menace suspected both men had demanded they take part in Terror’s witch hunt to safeguard him and Naya. At least with Raze and Venom present there would be witnesses if this thing went even further south.

  Terror approached Naya. Menace stepped between them, refusing to allow his friend to intimidate his wife. Terror gave him a hard look. “I’m trying to protect you, Menace, but if you make things difficult for me, all bets are off.”

  “Protect me? You just searched my home without a warrant.”

  “I don’t need one. When I want something done, I just snap my fingers,” he snapped, “and all sorts of men rush to get it done.”

  For the first time in his life, Menace was afraid of Terror. Not because Terror would hurt him. He wasn’t afraid to face whatever pain the man had in store. No, he was terrified for Naya and the possibility of her having to deal with an unrestrained Terror.

  “I want her cuffed.” Terror spoke to Venom. “Take her down to central holding. Put her in an interrogation room.” He eyed Menace. “If you make one fucking peep about her being in cuffs or going into interrogation without you, I will have her sent to the Arctis for questioning. Understood?”

  “Loud and clear.” Menace set his jaw. On board the Valiant, Naya had Vicious’ protection. No matter what Terror accused her of, Vicious would never allow Terror to harm her or unleash Torment, his master interrogator. As long as she stayed on the Valiant, Menace could be reasonably assured of her safety. He hoped they would give him enough time to find a lawyer and fight whatever charges they were bringing before Terror did anything rash.

  Venom removed his cuffs from his vest. As if getting arrested were the most natural thing in the world, Naya relaxed her shoulders and dropped her hands behind her back. Venom affixed the metal cuffs and took hold of her upper arm. “Move.”

  Menace watched Venom lead her out of their bedroom. At the doorway, she cast a lingering glance over her shoulder. The tears glistening in her dark eyes made him sick. He felt useless and impotent.

  With a heavy sigh, Menace put his hands behind his back. “Cuff me. Let’s get this over with.”

  For the first time that morning, Terror showed genuine regret. He looked pained and put a friendly hand on Menace’s arm. “I’m sorry this is happening. You deserved so much better.”

  Puzzled by Terror’s remarks, Menace allowed Raze to cuff and perp-walk him out of his destroyed home. In a sign of friendship and respect, Terror made use of the hidden access points and elevators to take him down to the on-ship jail. Menace breathed easier at the knowledge that none of his colleagues or neighbors had seen him in cuffs. It made the humiliation a little easier to bear.

  They took him to a room between interrogation cells. Inside the dim room, Vicious waited with Torment and Pierce, Terror’s Shadow Force cohorts. Stone-faced and always cool, Torment showed only the barest hint of recognition as Menace entered the room. Pierce, on the other hand, had a bruised and battered face and a hand and an arm wrapped in gauze. He’d been through the wringer and very recently.

  Vicious cursed loudly. “Terror, get him out of those cuffs now.”

  Terror stood his ground. “It’s proce
dure, Vee. Menace is under arrest for aiding and abetting the enemy.”

  Menace’s stomach dropped as though it were a runaway elevator. “What?”

  Pierce gestured to his face. “The gun shipment that I was on last night was attacked. We took heavy fire. Eleven men were killed and seventeen were wounded. We barely made it to the escape pods. The Splinter ships grabbed the cargo boxes from the debris field and fled.”

  Terror stepped forward and tapped the frame of the one-way mirror to activate it. Menace’s gut clenched at the sight of Naya sitting alone in a cold interrogation cell. Last night, he’d helped her live out a fantasy in a cell like this one. Now she was living a nightmare. She kept her gaze fixed forward and her features schooled. If she was afraid, she wasn’t going to let anyone else know it.

  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. He shuddered 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 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 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.”

  Staring at her, Menace couldn’t believe she’d fooled him so easily. Had anything they’d shared been real? Was it all 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 killed. The guilt of that would eat away at him unti
l 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. 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 swallow 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’ll make this quick and painless.”

  Menace didn’t appreciate the gallows 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 will be all right, Menace.”

  But it wouldn’t be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  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 Hallie she’d missed.

  The room’s stark white walls and painfully 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 tell. 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.