by Roxie Rivera
Besian glared with disappointment. “If she makes that choice? To kill your baby? You fucking walk.”
“I wasn’t asking for your advice.” He hated some of the harsh ideas Besian held. Fucking hated them. “You might end up on the pointy end of Marley’s letter opener if you spew shit like that at her.”
“That’s done,” Besian said harshly, turning his gaze out the window. “This was the second time she was nearly killed. The best thing that could happen to her is leaving this city forever.”
“I don’t think she wants to leave. Her whole life is here.”
“I’m going to make sure Spider agrees with me and takes care of it. She has to go. She’ll end up dead if she stays here.”
“But, you both—,” he tried to say.
“Drop it, Ben,” Besian ordered roughly. “It’s not happening.”
He dropped it. There was nothing he could say that would change the boss’s mind. Besian had seen Marley hurt twice now, and it seemed to be the breaking point. Whatever he had wanted with her, whatever he had envisioned with her, was gone. To protect her, Besian would push her away and work to exile her from the city.
In a way, Ben envied Besian’s strength. Besian cared for Marley so much that he was willing to let her go to keep her safe. If he were a better man, he would have done the same with Aston.
But he wasn’t.
His phone rang, startling him. Clearing his throat, he answered, “Hello?”
“Ben? It’s Eric Santos. We found Aston and Marley.”
“What! Where?” He played up his surprise. “Are they okay?”
“They’re on their way to Methodist West on Katy Freeway.”
“Okay. I’m headed that way.”
“Ben?”
“Yeah?”
“You got lucky this time. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and glanced at Besian. “They’re taking Aston and Marley to Methodist West.”
“Go. Take care of them.”
Hand on the door, he hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“I’m sure,” Besian answered solemnly. “It’s better this way.”
Maybe it was.
Chapter Sixteen
“Ow!” Marley hissed and scowled at the paramedic digging a needle in her hand. “Third time better be the charm or else you’re done jabbing needles in me.”
“Sorry,” he apologized. The tips of his ears were red with embarrassment. “I usually hit them on the first try.”
“At least give me some of the good drugs,” she insisted from the gurney. “You owe me a good time after all this.”
Even though she was joking around, I knew that Marley was scared. After Kostya left and the police arrived and cleared the scene, we had been taken out to the waiting ambulance for assessment. Both of us had been hooked up to monitors to make sure the stun gun hadn’t hurt our hearts. My strip showed absolutely no issues, but Marley’s had caused the two paramedics on scene to exchange worried glances.
They tried to make me wait for a second ambulance to arrive, but Marley refused to get in without me. Desperate for her to get medical attention, I promised to sit quietly and not be a bother on the ride to the emergency room. Remembering that promise, I bit my tongue and stayed silent in my seat instead of asking the paramedic if it was really necessary to slide that needle that far into her hand. She was already bruising and had blood seeping along her skin and dripping onto the floor.
Thankfully, he managed to finally get the IV in place. He started running a bag of saline and checked her blood pressure and heart again. Anxiety twisted my stomach. What if the stun gun had permanently damaged her heart?
When she leaned her head back and got quiet, I knew she was really sick. She had gone a little pale and sweaty again, and suddenly, I was having flashbacks to the last few days of my father’s life.
“Marley?” The paramedic touched her shoulder. “How you feeling?”
“Tired,” she answered quietly. “Cold.”
“Marley,” the paramedic spoke loudly, his gaze fixed on the heart monitor and the spikes blipping across the screen, “is this the first time you’ve ever felt like this? Do you ever feel like you have some funny heartbeats? Feel like your heart is racing? Or too slow?”
She didn’t answer for a few seconds. “It’s not the first time,” she admitted finally. “It started my sophomore year of college. The funny flip-flops and extra beats and racing. I thought it was just stress or too much caffeine and not enough sleep.”
Squeezing my lips together, I held in my outburst. Why hadn’t she said something before? Why had she been suffering all this time without telling me?
Because she never wants to be a burden.
Her entire life, Marley had felt like a burden to her mother, a professional martyr if I had ever seen one. Spider wasn’t ever around long enough for her to ask for help. She always took care of herself. She wouldn’t have wanted to worry me when I was dealing with my father dying. She had suffered in silence rather than be a bother. Realizing I had failed my best friend by taking more than I gave, I swore I would never, ever let her feel like she couldn’t trust me with something so serious.
“Have you seen anyone about it?”
“No.”
“And are you on any medications?”
“Just a vitamin and the occasional Tylenol or Motrin.”
The paramedic looked concerned but not extremely worried as he watched the heart monitor screen and checked her vitals again. I tried to let his reactions guide mine. Maybe it seemed worse than it was. Maybe it wasn’t so serious.
We reached the hospital finally, and I sagged with relief. I was vacillating between fear for the baby I was now certain I carried and my best friend. When I stepped out of the ambulance after Marley’s gurney, I spotted Detectives Santos and Dawson waiting by the doors. Are you kidding me?
Before they could pester us, I held up a hand. “If you even try to ask Marley a question, I will spend every single penny I have making your lives miserable. She is absolutely off-limits. You can wait until I’m cleared and then I’ll see you.”
Both detectives looked at Marley’s gurney and seemed to understand how sick she was. They nodded, and Eric said, “I’ll have the nurse let me know when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” The detectives handled, I trailed after Marley until a nurse stopped me from going into the larger trauma room with her. Instead, she steered me into a different and smaller exam area.
“I don’t want Marley to be alone.”
“She has to undergo a full workup. You’ll just be in the way right now. I’ll check in with her nurse, and she’ll let me know when you can see her. She’ll have family on the way soon, I’m sure.”
“Maybe,” I said, not at all sure that her mother would answer the phone. I didn’t even know if Spider was in the city or off traveling on club business.
She handed me a hospital gown and a paper bag. “The police want your clothing for evidence.”
“All of it?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
“When you’re done, go across the hall to the bathroom and fill this cup. There are posters in the stalls that explain how to do it correctly.”
I took the urine specimen cup and the bag of supplies from her. “I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”
“Fill ’er up and I’ll let you know.”
Alone in the curtained off exam room, I made quick work of removing my clothing and placing it in the bag. Every movement made me more aware of the bruising and sore muscles I had sustained. My underarm hurt the worst, and I winced when I discovered the raw burn marks there. Fucking Gary.
After a trip across the hall to the bathroom, I got up onto the exam table and curled onto my side. It was cold in the emergency room, and I used the paper-thin sheet to cover my trembling body.
“It’s just shock,” the nurse said gently when she returned. “Yo
u’ve been through a traumatic experience. Once you get something to eat and some rest, you’ll feel better.” She patted my hand. “And you’re right. You are pregnant.”
It seemed so anticlimactic to hear it from her. It wasn’t the way I had envisioned learning I was pregnant. I had always imagined I would be nervously pacing my bathroom, not huddled on a hospital bed in a scratchy gown and cheap, threadbare sheet.
“Do you have any idea how far along you might be?”
“Um…” I thought back to my last period, not the spotting that I had mistaken for one. “Seven weeks?”
“Okay. I’m going to have one of our doctors come in and check those burns on your underarm. When they’re done, we’ll have an OB come in and do a scan. Have you ever been pregnant before?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re in good hands here, and we’ll make sure that all of the testing we do today is sent to your OB/GYN.” She patted my hand again. “Rest easy. Dr. Chavez will be in soon.”
“What about Marley?”
“I’ll check on her and let you know.”
Curled on my side, I waited. The ER seemed busy with a constant stream of ambulance sirens echoing in the hallways. There were so many conversations happening all around me, the thin curtains providing no privacy. When Ben arrived, I would have to remember to keep my voice soft. I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping on us.
When the curtain moved aside, I sat up hopefully, but it wasn’t Ben. It was Dr. Chavez. She had a kind bedside manner and performed her exam quickly.
“Sorry,” she apologized as she gently prodded the area around the burn marks. “So, these are electrical burns, which, obviously, you knew. This one is partial thickness, but this one is more superficial. Your biggest concern will be keeping them clean and preventing an infection. We’ll get you bandaged up, and I’ll write a prescription for an ointment and an antibiotic. We’ll also send you to a specialist for follow-up tomorrow. You will probably have more swelling and discomfort in the next day or so. Because you’re pregnant, you’ll need to stick to Tylenol for pain control.”
Worried I wouldn’t be able to remember all of that, I asked, “Will I get printed instructions?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Okay. Good.”
The nurse returned to help clean and bandage my wounds. As she pulled on her gloves, she said, “Your friend’s dad is on his way. Marley is going to be admitted, but visiting hours will be over by the time you’re discharged. You’ll have to wait to see her until tomorrow.”
I didn’t like it, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Resigned to not seeing her again for a while, I turned on my side as Dr. Chavez instructed and winced as they dressed my burns. When they were done, I rolled onto my back but kept my arm up over my head because it was more comfortable. I heard the curtain open again but didn’t lift my head, expecting the return of the nurse or the other doctor who was supposed to see me before I could be discharged.
“Miss McNeil? It’s Detective Santos.”
Grimacing at the ceiling, I sighed and sat up to face him. “Hello.”
“I won’t be long,” he said, eyeing my bandaged arm as I shrugged back into the gown and covered myself.
“It’s fine. I’m still waiting to be seen by another doctor.” Gripping the sheet, I asked, “Well?”
“Can you tell me what happened? Starting at Target,” he guided.
“Marley and I were leaving Target, and I returned the cart. On the way back, I thought I saw someone in the minivan parked next to us, but I didn’t think anything of it because, I mean, it’s Target. When the door opened, it startled me, and I turned and he grabbed me.”
“Gary Metcalfe?”
“Yes.”
“How well did you know him?”
“Not well at all,” I said truthfully. “I met him a few times at company parties. He didn’t make much of an impression on me.”
“You’re close to his wife?”
“Close? I mean, we have a working relationship. I’ve known her for ten years or so. She’s really nice and always takes the time to answer questions and teach. She’s not a close friend, but she’s a friend.”
“What happened after Gary stunned you? Do you remember anything?”
“No. I passed out, and when I woke up, I was throwing up in that office. Marley was behind me, and we both had our wrists and ankles tied up with those plastic cord things.”
“Zipties?”
“Yeah.”
“And what happened after you woke up?”
“Marley was really mad, and she yelled at Gary that we needed water. She looked off to me,” I said, picturing her clearly in my mind. “She was sweating and shaky. I could tell that she was sick.”
“They told me they’re admitting her to the cardiac unit,” Eric confirmed. “I guess they’re trying to figure out if the stun gun caused her heart problems or aggravated a pre-existing condition.”
I rubbed my face, hating the thought of Marley alone and scared somewhere in the hospital. “Did you see Spider?”
“Not yet,” he said, “but they told me he’s on his way.”
“Please, Detective, don’t bother Marley with this,” I begged. “She doesn’t need the stress.”
“As long as I get all the answers I need from you, I’ll leave her alone,” he promised. “What happened next in the office building?”
“Gary came back with water. He cleaned up my face with some paper towels. He helped me sit up and then hauled Marley over to sit next to me. He started talking, started telling us about the scam he was running with Calvin.”
“What was the scam?”
“Real estate,” I said, deciding to be careful with the details. “He didn’t get into the nitty gritty of it, but I think it was money laundering.”
“For the Triad?”
Realizing Eric knew far more than he was letting on, I nodded. “That’s what he said.”
“Did he mention Paul Chen?”
“He did. I’m not sure exactly what his part was in their scheme.”
“Do you know why Gary’s wife and baby were kidnapped?”
“Calvin ran off without sharing the accounts with Gary or Paul. They couldn’t get their hands on the money they owed their Chinese investors so they started taking it from Gary’s legitimate clients. When that well ran dry, they couldn’t meet their obligations.”
“That squares with what we’ve worked out,” Eric said, scribbling something on the small notepad he had taken from his pocket.
“Did they find them?”
“Who?”
“Margie and Elliot,” I clarified, hoping that Teddy Leung hadn’t double-crossed me.
“Yes. They’re safe and on their way to a hospital downtown.”
I exhaled with relief. “Thank God.”
“I’m not sure God had anything to do with it,” Eric muttered. “I have a feeling someone paid a hefty ransom for them.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I leveled a knowing gaze at him.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I would.”
“I thought they were dead,” I added, thinking of the moment when the elevator had opened. “When Marley and I were trying to fight off Gary and escape, the elevator dinged, and we heard men yelling. I figured they had already killed Margie and her baby and were coming to finish us all off.”
“You got lucky,” Eric remarked. “You saw what they did to Gary.”
“We didn’t see it exactly,” I replied. “We heard it. We were already running at that point.”
“You two stabbed him before he got shot?”
I nodded. “Marley found a letter opener and a pair of scissors in the desk in the room where he was holding us. We decided our best chance was to fight.”
“You were right. It’s always better to fight.” He clicked his pen a few times. “How did you get free?”
“From the zipties?”
“Yes.”
“I lied to
him.”
“About?”
“About helping him get back Margie and Elliot.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t know what else to try,” I said with a shrug.
“He believed you?”
“He did. He cut us loose and went to find a phone so he could contact the kidnappers. Marley found the weapons, and we attacked him when he came back.”
“And then the gang got there?”
“Yeah, and we ran. We tried to get out of the building, but the door was locked. Marley spotted some men outside, and we realized it was more of the Chinese mafia guys. We ran back upstairs, tried to find somewhere to hide and ended up in the supply room behind the boxes of paper. We heard more gunshots and more men in the building. After a while, it got quiet, and we left the supply closet and found Gary’s phone. I called 9-1-1 and the rest you know.”
I repeated the story we had rehearsed with the terrifying Russian. He had been very clear that we needed to never mention him or any of Ben’s crew.
“You didn’t see the men who shot Gary?”
“No.”
“You’re sure they were Triad?”
“How would I be able to tell? All I know is that they were speaking Cantonese.”
His brow furrowed. “You can tell the difference in dialect?”
“Only a little bit,” I said. “Dad put me in Mandarin classes when I was a kid, but I really struggled with it. They switched me over to Cantonese, and I still couldn’t get it. I know what I heard—and it was Cantonese.”
He scribbled another note. “Is there anything else you can remember?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t remember making a 9-1-1 call about Margie and her baby being in danger?”
He was smooth. I had to give him that. He’d slipped in that question without any indication that he was going there.
Looking him square in the eye, I lied. “I made the call.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“Were they threatening you? The Triad?”
It was the easiest thing to agree to and kept the focus off of Ben and my betrayal. “Yes.”