by Naomi West
“And … what do I have to do?” asked Honey. “I’m not a spy. I can barely make up excuses for being late for work without my face turning red and sweaty.”
“You’re gonna be my eyes and ears in that place,” said Grit. “The best part is that you’ll just have to keep doing what you’re already doing. Only difference is that you’ll be checking up with me and my boys every now and again. And we’ll pay you for each meeting on top of the fifty that you’ll get when we’re done with you.”
Honey shifted in her seat; she knew that she was stuck.
“Let me say again: this is the best deal you’re gonna get.”
She looked away, weighing her options briefly. But Grit knew that he was right.
“Fine,” said Honey, taking a deep breath. “I’ll do it. But I don’t want to have to betray my friends.”
“Are you friends with any drug dealers?”
“No.”
“Then don’t worry too much about that. Trust me, this is just going to be about you keeping your eyes and ears out, letting me know if you see or hear anything suspicious. I’m not gonna make you do anything that you’re not equipped to do. No sneaking around like James Bond or something.”
“OK,” she said, looking a little more relieved. “I think I can do this.”
“Good,” said Grit, getting up. “Then we’re done here. My boys will meet you outside and make sure that you get home all right. Sound like a plan?”
“Sounds like a plan,” confirmed Honey, setting her drink down and getting up.
Grit walked over to the door of the hotel room and pulled it open.
“I’ll be in touch.”
“That’s it?” asked Honey.
“What else were you expecting?”
“I … don’t know,” she said, not sure how to answer the question.
Grit nodded. Honey got up and walked out the door, her scent lingering in the air as she passed.
Goddamn, though Grit, she smells good. Like licorice and sex.
Once she was gone, he shut the door. All he could think about was how he hoped that he hadn’t put the poor, naïve girl on the path to destruction.
***
Sure enough, a pair of beefy bikers, both tall, tough-looking, and covered in tattoos, were waiting for Honey in the lobby.
“You all done with the boss?” asked one of them.
“I think so,” said Honey. “He said that he’ll be in touch.”
“That’s right,” said the other biker. “Boss texted us while you were on the way down. Said to give you our numbers.”
“Oh?” asked Honey.
“Yeah,” said one of the bikers. “I’m Razor and this is Pitt. We’re gonna be your contacts during this operation.”
“Really?” asked Honey. “I thought that I was going to be working with Grit on this.”
Pitt snorted.
“Why would you think that? Grit’s the president; he’s got enough shit on his plate to worry about.”
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” said Razor. “We’ll take good care of you.”
Honey was led out the front doors of the lobby to a large, silver SUV that awaited them. The two men climbed into the front and driver’s seats, opening the door for Honey first. She got into the back and was a little surprised by just how nice the car was.
“Nice wheels,” said Honey.
“We spend most of the time on our bikes,” said Razor. “But we like to ride in style when we gotta ride anything with four wheels. Where to?”
Honey gave them her address and they were off. The neon lights of Vegas at night passed outside of the car windows, and Honey stared at them listlessly as they drove. She felt stupid for feeling this way, but she couldn’t help but wish that she was going to be working with Grit.
Sitting in the car and sinking into the seat, her mind drifted back to the kiss that they’d shared earlier. It was … unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way his hands felt as they caressed her body—all of it lingered in her thoughts. Part of her wished that during their meeting he would’ve just thrown her down on the bed and finished what they’d started.
Oh well, thought Honey. I guess the guys are right—I shouldn’t expect for a president to be working so closely with someone like me. I’m just some stripper, after all.
After a time, they arrived at Honey’s apartment complex. It was a run-down little affair, a building wrapped around a big parking lot and with a dull pink paint job that hadn’t been kept up with. Honey could afford a little nicer of a place, but she wanted to save her money. Still, it wasn’t the happiest place in the world to come home to.
“Here we are,” said Razor. “Let me walk you up.”
Razor walked with Honey to her door and let her in. He gave the place a quick check.
“That necessary?” she asked.
“Boss’s orders,” he said. “Doesn’t want to take any chances. Feels responsible for you now, I guess.”
He headed towards the front door.
“Let us know the second you see anything we might be interested in. And always, always, tell us if you think you’re in any kind of danger. We look out for our own.”
With that, he shut the door. And as soon as he was gone, the kiss that had been preoccupying Honey all night returned to her thoughts, like some kind of a lovely, waking dream.
Chapter Five
Honey
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Honey kept her eyes and ears open for anything out of the ordinary. During the first week, nothing stood out to her as noteworthy, and she began to worry that by the time of her first weekly check-in with the Vandals she wouldn’t have anything worthwhile to report.
But one day, when arriving an hour or so early for work, during closing hours, Honey noticed something strange. Trying to come in through the front door, she found that it was locked.
Shit, she thought, checking the time and realizing how early she was. Gotta try the back.
Honey made her way around the building, but as she turned the corner to enter the back alley, she stopped at the sound of several unfamiliar men’s voices.
“How much shit they got this time?” said one of the gruff voices.
“Usual,” said the other. “Uh, actually, I think they’re putting out a little more this time.”
“Yeah, this seems like a lot,” said the first. “Must really be getting the operation smoothed out down there. Charlie’s really getting it moving.”
Honey stayed frozen in her tracks, listening to the conversation.
What the hell are they talking about? she thought. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were talking about …
Peeking out from behind the corner leading to the alley, she spotted two men loading black bags of … something into the truck of a cherry-red sports car. Once they were done, the men gave the goods another once-over before climbing into the car and tearing off. Honey did her best to look non-descript as they passed; deep down she knew that she’d just seen something that she shouldn’t have.
Once the men were long gone, Honey headed down the alley and gave the back entrance to Fantasies a rap. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Charlie. A look of surprise flashed across his face briefly when he realized that it was Honey.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re here early.”
“Oh,” said Honey, “I was just in the neighborhood running some errands and I realized driving back home would be more out of the way than just coming in. Figured I’d see if you needed help with anything before we opened.”
“Oh,” said Charlie. “Uh, come on in, then.”
Okay, Charlie’s definitely acting suspicious, she thought as she stepped through the door. And unless I misheard that guy a minute ago, they were definitely talking about him. But are they talking about drugs?
“Hey,” said Honey. “We get some kind of delivery today?”
“Huh?” asked Charlie, stepping back behind the bar,
not looking at Honey. “What’re you talking about?”
“I just, um, saw some guys in the back alley when I showed up. Sounded like they were dropping some stuff off or picking some stuff up.”
“What’d you see?” said Charlie abruptly.
Honey was taken aback by his tone. He seemed really worried about what Honey said next.
“Um, well, I didn’t see anything, really,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I just heard a couple of guys in the back. Just was wondering if they were supposed to be there or not.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, seemingly a little relieved. “Yeah, those were just a couple of buddies of mine. Nothing you need to worry about.”
Honey could tell right away that it was a flimsy cover. But considering how Charlie had reacted to her question, Honey didn’t want to push the matter any further than necessary.
“I’m gonna get things sorted in the dressing room,” said Honey. “Give me a shout if you need anything.”
Charlie nodded before turning his attention back to the bar.
Well, thought Honey, I got what I wanted. Every bit of that was about as suspicious as it gets. I don’t know for sure if this is about drugs, but it sure as hell’s starting to look that way.
During a break near the end of her shift, Honey received a text from a number she didn’t recognize. It had nothing but a hotel name, a room number, and a time—one a.m. that night. It didn’t take much puzzling out to realize who it was.
To her surprise, the first feeling that went through Honey when she read the text wasn’t fear or apprehension, but a strange, giddy sort of thrill mixed with the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.
“Someone got some good news,” said Bethany from where she stood at a nearby vanity, touching up her makeup as the rest of the girls zipped here and there around her.
“Huh?” asked Honey. “What’re you talking about?”
“I don’t know what kind of text you just got, but you got a smile that’s going all the way from one ear to the other.”
Bethany raised an eyebrow.
“And I know that can only mean one thing.”
Honey was a little shocked.
Was I being that obvious? she thought, shoving her phone back into her purse after typing up and sending a quick confirmation text. I don’t want to tell Bethany about any of this, but if I lie that’ll be suspicious.
“Uh, yeah,” said Honey. “Kind of, I mean. Nothing serious.”
“Spill, girl,” said Bethany.
“Just some guy I met here the other night. Um, a biker.”
“Oh-la-la,” said Bethany, flashing a sly smile. “I do love a man in leather. And tight, tight denim.”
Honey couldn’t help but smile once again at the image.
“There it is again!” said Bethany. “Someone’s smitten.”
Honey hated to admit it, but she was—at least a little. The kiss that they’d shared lingered in her mind and all she could think about was having Grit’s big, tough hands all over her. Just thinking about the way he smelled, the way he tasted, made her heart skip a beat.
The rest of the night dragged. All Honey could think about was getting to the hotel and seeing Grit again. She knew that she was supposed to be meeting with the other guys, but she held out hope that she might see him at least in passing.
She didn’t have any such luck. The only members of the Vandals waiting for her in the hotel room were Razor and Pitt, just like she’d expected. Honey couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“Okay,” said Pitt. “Let me get this straight: you heard a couple of guys loading up a car with something that might or might not’ve been drugs?”
“Yeah,” said Honey. “And my boss, Charlie, he was really weird about the whole thing when I asked him. He got real cagey.”
“Sounds like you’re onto something,” said Razor as he cracked open a beer. “But we’re gonna need more concrete shit than that. Keep looking around. You guys got any places in that club that’re off limits?”
“Yeah,’” said Honey. “There’s a basement that we’re not allowed to go into.”
“There you go,” said Pitt.
“You want me to break into the off-limits area?” asked Honey. “Might as well just tell my boss that I’m spying on him.”
“Nah, nah,” said Pitt. “Don’t actually do it. Just go near the door while your boss is looking, gauge his reaction. Play dumb when he says something and make a note if he gets extra paranoid about you going down there.”
“Got it,” said Honey, still feeling a little nervous about the whole thing.
At Fantasies later in the week, Honey finally worked up the nerve to give the plan a shot. Towards the back of the main room, there were two doors, one that led to the hallway where the private rooms were, and the other leading to the basement. And both were always guarded by a pair of hulking bouncers. Thinking about it, Honey realized that she’d never seen anyone come or go out that door. Whatever happened there happened when the club was closed. Honey decided to give the suggestion a try. Early in the shift, before the bouncers showed up for the evening, Honey waited until Charlie was nearby and gave the handle to the basement door a pull. Charlie noticed right away and shot over to her within seconds, a worried look on his face.
“What’re you doing?” he asked. “Why the hell are you trying to go down there?”
“Oh,” said Honey, taken a little aback by his intense reaction. “I just, um, was looking for the sewing machine; the outfit I want to wear tonight had a little rip.”
“No sewing machine down there,” said Charlie, leading Honey away from the door. “You know the basement’s off limits. Authorized personnel—you know the deal.”
“What’s even down there, anyway?” asked Honey. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone even go down there before.”
“Just supplies and money,” said Charlie, the answer blurting out in a way that struck Honey as forced. “Same thing I told you on your first shift, when I also told you to not go anywhere near it. You’re talent—you stay here on the main floor. Now get back to getting ready.”
With that, he hurried her off backstage. Honey was now fully suspicious. Charlie had freaked out just as much as she had expected he might, maybe even a little more so.
That’ll make for good info, she thought. Nothing concrete yet, but I think I’m in the right direction.
The shift went by as normal, and when she was done for the night, Honey decided to unwind with a drink at the bar before heading home. Charlie made her a vodka cranberry and she sat at the bar, sipping her drink, the guarded door in the corner of her eye.
“Hey, sweet thing,” came a gruff voice from nearby, “like the way you moved tonight.”
Honey was a little startled and turned quickly in her seat in the direction of the voice. A few chairs over sat a beefy, bald-headed man with a lecherous look on his mouth, his beady eyes glued onto Honey’s chest.
“Thanks,” said Honey, feeling instantly uncomfortable.
Taking her word as an invitation, the man heaved himself up from his seat and plopped down in the chair next to Honey’s. A shiver ran up her spine as soon as he moved next to her.
“Couldn’t help but wonder what else you could do with that body of yours,” he said.
Shit, thought Honey. Another fucking drunk asshole about one more drink away from getting grabby.
“I’m just having a drink after work,” said Honey.
“And it’s getting a little low,” said the man. “Let me get you another. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to pay for her own drinks.”
He waved to Charlie, who approached and poured them a pair of fresh drinks. As he set the glasses in front of Honey and the man, he gave her a knowing look, one that seemed to say, “You just say the word.”
The man took a long sip of his drink, his eyes moving up and down Honey’s body once again.
“So,” he said. “Alone at the bar after work. Good thing
I showed up to make your night a little more interesting.”
“Not really looking for an interesting night,” said Honey.
“Well,” said the man. “You’re about to have one.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and took out a stack of hundreds.
“I think this should get me about two hours of whatever I want.”
Honey felt furious and frightened all at the same time. Guys like this were far too common—men who thought that girls like Honey were nothing more than common whores. And they never took it well when she had to correct them.
