Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
BUTCH
I don’t like this plan, but I fucking hate what they’ve done to Becca.
Pierce said a wig and fake eyelashes would confuse most stupid men, and I will never admit it, but I might be stupid. Because there’s a good chance even I wouldn’t recognize her at first glance.
Or possibly second glance.
When Becca steps out of the room we’ve been sharing here at the Airbnb, she legitimately looks like a completely different person.
The sparkly, off-white gown Pierce’s wife sent for her to wear hugs every inch of her tiny body, showing off all the curves normally hidden by her favored jeans and hoodies.
The platform pumps on her feet add at least five inches, so now, instead of reaching my sternum, the top of her head clears my chin.
She’s also blonde. Her dark, wavy, shoulder length hair is covered in a bright wig styled into loose curls that nearly reach her waist. The fake eyelashes Pierce was so adamant about stand out remarkably well considering she’s not wearing her glasses, and is instead blinking fast as she tries to acclimate to a pair of blue contact lenses.
But the woman Pierce hired for Becca’s makeover didn’t stop there.
No. She brought a whole-ass tent and airbrush system, so she could contour and tan Becca’s entire body.
The pearl-colored fake fingernails she pressed onto Becca’s fingertips are covered with bubbly, glittering designs.
She even brushed on what she referred to as contouring to make Becca’s tits look bigger.
It’s a fucking nightmare of epic proportions seeing her like this.
Becca teeters down the hall, giving me a cautious smile as she uses her arms to maintain balance. “What do you think?”
“I fucking hate it.” She doesn’t look like the woman who came on my dick last night before snoring in my ear, and that’s probably not a bad thing. “But it’s going to work.”
If any of those fuckers recognize Becca, I’ll shit in my hands and clap. Then I’ll kill them. Although, apparently I’m not supposed to talk about killing or murder or homicide anyone. So, officially, I guess I’ll make them fucking disappear.
“Only if you can stop walking like you’re terrified you’re about to fall down.
” The woman responsible for Becca’s transformation comes to stand right beside her.
It’s almost jarring seeing them side by side.
Becca is all blonde and glittery and bright, while Raven is living up to her name.
She’s dressed head to toe in black, with equally black tattoos etched across her fair skin.
Her long, shaggy, dark hair falls into her coal lined eyes as she explains how Becca should move in the ridiculous shoes.
“I know it seems like it would be safer to walk on your toes, but that will actually make you more unbalanced.” She straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin.
“You actually almost want to lean back as you go forward.” Raven takes a few steps, demonstrating the movements.
“You want to step heel to toe and pretend like you’re walking on a tight rope. ”
Becca watches intently, absorbing and digesting every word and every action. Once Raven steps to the side, it’s Becca’s turn, and she duplicates each move almost perfectly.
“Holy shit. That was fucking great.” Raven claps, her oversized sleeves bouncing with the movement. “You’re a natural.”
“Not a natural, just a very quick learner.” I watch as Becca continues walking toward me. “She can do anything she sets her mind to.”
I know most men would look at Becca the way she is now and be rock hard over the tits and the hair and the glitter. But I don’t find much about her current state appealing. It’s not her.
And I really fucking like her. Just the way she is.
“How are we doing?” Pierce reaches the top of the stairs right as Becca finishes her runway walk down the hall. His dark brows lift, expression filled with surprise as she does a slow turn, showing off all Raven’s hard work. “Holy mother of God. You look fantastic.”
“She looks ridiculous.” I can’t help the grumble of distaste.
“That’s why she looks fantastic. All these men are going to see is a sparkly blonde woman with a smile on her face. Nothing beyond that will register.”
I sure fucking hope not, because if one of them makes a wrong move, it’s going to be real damn hard for me to get a dead body out of there without getting caught.
Pierce turns to me, taking in my suit and tie. It was decided that even though I’ll be spending my time in a van monitoring everything from the outside, it’s best if I’m capable of at least moderately fitting in. Just in case there’s an emergency and I have to step outside.
Or go collect a body Becca accidentally creates if she discovers someone who had a part in her sister’s disappearance.
Pierce turns to where Raven stands. “Thank you so much for your help. You did an impeccable job.”
Heavy steps pound up the stairs behind us, and I turn to find Quinn—the man who’ll be helping me monitor the night from inside the van—racing toward us.
“We’ve got a problem.” His eyes barely go to Becca before moving back to Pierce. “Heidi just called and said Luca can’t come alone.” He shakes his head. “No single men.”
Pierce’s brows pinch together. “Why wouldn’t they let—”
“It’s a meat market.” Becca takes a deep breath, blowing it back out. “If these men are all about trafficking, they are always looking for potential victims.” She tips her head. “Or at the very least, they don’t want it to end up being a sausage party full of competition.”
Raven’s dark brows disappear behind the heavy weight of her bangs. “Where the fuck are you going?”
Pierce goes still, as if he completely forgot the cosmetologist was still standing there.
He recovers quickly, but I feel like the damage is probably already done.
Motioning to the room Becca and I share, he gives Raven a quick smile.
“Quinn here will help you collect your things. Again, thank you so much.”
Raven shakes her head, taking a step back as Quinn comes closer. “I don’t fucking think so.” Her accusing gaze is hard. “Where are you sending her?”
Pierce rakes a hand through his hair, head tipping back on a sigh. “We’re not sending her anywhere. She’s doing her job.”
Raven’s dark eyes move to Becca. “What’s your job?” The woman seems a little outraged and a lot confused. Like she can’t decide what to be pissed off about or who to direct her anger toward.
“I don’t actually know yet. I just started yesterday.” She chews her lower lip, head tipping as she studies the other woman. “Do you have plans for tonight?”
“Absolutely not.” Pierce shakes his head. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a terrible idea.”
Becca turns to Pierce, tall enough in her heels, she doesn’t really have to look up at him too much. “Quinn just said Luca can’t get in without a date. Either we find someone to bring, or Owen and I have to go in alone.”
Pierce’s nostrils flare. He blows out a loud breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Dammit.”
“You still haven’t answered me. What place are you sending her into?” Raven isn’t backing down, and I have to admit, that does seem like a pretty good sign.
“We’re going to infiltrate a fundraiser for J.T.
Davies.” Becca starts spilling the beans without hesitation.
“We think he’s part of a group responsible for abducting underage girls across the state and sexually trafficking them.
” She leaves off the part about how they also seem to be trying to track down the adult women standing in their way.
“We’re trying to collect more evidence to use in their prosecution. ”
I don’t know how accurate the last part is, but Becca’s explanation seems to make Raven not only calmer, but also more interested.
“Really? I knew I fucking hated that guy. He gives me the fucking creeps.” She turns to Pierce.
“If you need a chick to go, I’ll do it.” She looks down at herself before glancing at Becca.
“I’m not sure I can pull off gala Barbie doll, but I clean up pretty decently. ”
Pierce looks like he’s about to blow a gasket, which I find weird considering I’m starting to notice all the women he hires have a common traitthey’re not the sort who are easy to control. If anything, they go out of their way to be purposely difficult and oppositionally defiant.
If I wasn’t so pissed off at him for sending Owen in as Becca’s fucking date, I might be able to scrounge up a little respect.
Might.
“I think that’s actually a really good idea.” Becca turns to Pierce. “She knows just a little of what’s going on, but not enough to act weird.” Becca pauses before stating the obvious. “Also, she’s our only option unless Butch is willing to rethink his willingness to wear a wig and heels.”
“Fucking hell.” Pierce squeezes his forehead with one hand. I know he’s trying to come up with another option, but we don’t really have any. He can either send Becca and Owen in on their own, or he’s gotta let Raven jump in with both feet.
And honestly, I don’t think it’s that terrible of an idea.
“I think you should let her do it.” Raven is nice enough. She’s cute in a dark, slightly terrifying, sort of way. “As long as she’s got something to wear, and swears to stick with Luca all night, it’s better than Becca and Owen being on their own.”
“Of course I have something to wear.” Raven turns to Becca like she’s the one in charge of this whole thing. “Give me thirty minutes.” The cosmetologist races off, her combat boots surprisingly light as she runs down the stairs.
Pierce turns to Quinn. “What the fuck just happened? I didn’t tell anyone to do anything.”
Quinn grins at him, reaching out to slap him on one shoulder as they turn to the stairs. “Then you should feel right at home.”