Don't Say No

by Linda Verji

  Melanie didn’t answer.

  “When you told me that whole story about you needing a little money I didn’t buy it because I know you too well. But I was like okay, she’ll tell me the truth when she’s ready. But now…” Cece pointed a finger at her. “You know what? I bet this has something to do with Marcus.”

  “Marcus didn’t-”

  “Don’t even.” Cece interrupted with a raised hand. “That boy has been dragging you into his bullshit since he got out of his diapers. So what did he get himself into this time?”

  “He didn’t get himself into anything.”

  Cece gave her a disbelieving look.

  “I swear. He didn’t. ” Melanie defended her brother.

  Cece tone softened, “Mel, you are one of the most loyal people out here, and I won’t knock it. But you need to learn that it’s okay to quit on people sometimes. Not everyone deserves your loyalty or your kindness. You need to stop playing Captain Save-A-Thug all the time and let Marcus deal with his own shit.”

  “He’s my brother.” Melanie rubbed the back of her neck. “Would you let Lewis hang in the wind if he got in trouble?”

  “Damn straight I would.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “Am I?” Cece rolled her neck. “Who told you to leave that punk’s ass when he was running around with Keisha? But did you listen to me?” Her voice rose to a squeak as she mimicked Melanie, “He’s my husband, Cece. I gotta try to make it work.”

  Despite herself Melanie laughed. “I don’t talk like that.”

  “Girl, you know you got that Butterfly McQueen voice.” Cece laughed, but soon her chuckles petered into a thoughtful look. She scooted closer to her friend and grabbed her hand. “Don’t let Marcus drag you down with him. If he’s the one getting you mixed up in this slinging shit, you need to cut him off. You have worked too hard to build Darlene’s and no one – not even Marcus - is worth that sacrifice.”

  Marcus is, Melanie wanted to say, but she kept silent knowing speaking would only prompt her friend to continue her sermon.

  Cece added, “If you need help getting that Russian bitch out of your shop, then let me talk to Jeff. He’ll slap handcuffs on her so fast her red head will spin like a wheel of fortune.”

  Melanie started at the mention of her friend’s fiancé. “Don’t tell Jeff.”

  She didn’t want to involve Jeff in this mess. As a recently minted police academy graduate, he was too low on the totem pole to do anything other than get himself killed.

  Cece sighed. “I won’t. But Mel, at least let me help. If it’s the money, I can take some double shifts at the plant. And I haven’t paid the mortgage for this month yet. I can give you that-”

  “You don’t have to do that.” Melanie put her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Thank you for trying to help, but I’m good.”

  “You’re not good if you’re-”

  “C,” Melanie interrupted. “Don’t worry about me.” Seeing her friend’s expression, she added, “I’ll be okay. And I promise the moment I need help, I’m coming straight to you.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.” Melanie smiled and bumped her friend’s shoulder. “Now stop pursing your lips and rolling your neck at me. You look like your Aunt Flora.”

  Cece’s jaw dropped. “Take that back.”

  Melanie laughed. “No.”

  She was relieved when the conversation turned playful, but even then Cece’s words played in her mind. As she drove home, she ruminated over them. Was there such a thing as being too loyal? And was there a line that Marcus could cross that she wouldn’t follow him over? Countless times, it’d crossed her mind that she might be the reason her brother was who he was.

  Many people had told her the same thing.

  Nic, her late aunt, Cece, even Aunt Honey the queen of second chances had said she was doing too much. They’d all accused Melanie of enabling Marcus. He behaved badly because he knew there was someone watching his back, they said. She was his crutch. It was time to let him handle his own business. And if it was bad business… then that was his business too.

  But could she?

  Their mother’s last words before she passed were to ask Melanie take care of her brother. Melanie had taken those words and protected him to the best of her ability. When he was younger, she’d taken the blame for his misdeeds so their alcoholic aunt wouldn’t turn her anger on him. Melanie couldn’t even count the number of whoopings she’d taken on his behalf.

  When he got involved with peddling drugs and the police came questioning, she covered for him and gave fake alibis. When he impregnated a girl at fourteen, Melanie financially supported his baby mama, Robin. On Robin’s death, she took on Sly. When Marcus got in too deep with the Runners, she’d footed the legal costs. He got in trouble, she saved him. That’s just how their relationship worked.

  Sure, sometimes – many times – she got angry at him, couldn’t believe the crap he involved her in. But it’d never occurred to her to let him hang on his own rope. Though she understood where everyone was coming from, quitting her own brother didn’t sit right with her. How could she? How could she break her promise to her mother?

  These conflicting thoughts plagued her the whole evening. Even after sending Sly to bed and settling in her own room for the night, the thoughts circled her mind incessantly. They kept her from sleeping.

  When Nic came he found her wide awake. As soon as he climbed through the window she opened for him, he knew that something was wrong.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he set his feet to the floor.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Melanie shrugged.

  Nope. Something was definitely wrong. It was in the frown lines on her brow and the troubled glint in the liquid brown depths of her eyes. It was in the way she was rubbing her arms, and the fact that it was one a.m. and she wasn’t asleep.

  “Something’s wrong.” This time he voiced it as a statement rather than a question.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Nic.” She turned her back on him, walked to the bed and settled Indian-style on it. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

  Nic could spot diversion tactics from a mile off. He wanted to question her further about what was bothering her, but she’d just change the subject again. Nine years ago, he wouldn’t have even needed to question her. She would’ve blurted out the problem without his having to prod her. He’d been her rock as she’d been his and sharing their problems had been as much a part of their relationship as breathing. His heart ached at the thought that he’d lost that, just as he’d lost her.

  Shaking off the melancholy, he plopped onto the armchair facing her. His eyes raked her, took her in. From the green vest whose neckline was low enough to give him a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage to the black leggings that clung to her shapely thighs. It was an innocent enough bedtime outfit but his body stirred at the sight.

  To get his mind off her seductive body, he lifted his gaze to hers. “Did you find Sly?”

  Her face softened into a smile as she nodded. “Thank you. You have no idea how worried I was.”

  “I had an idea.” Nic returned her smile. Diego who’d been watching her had let Nic know of the search prompting him to call to set her mind at ease.

  Melanie’s smile faded. “I think Vance sent people after Marcus. Three guys jumped him in his cell yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” Nic had learnt of the attack this morning. He’d had every intention of letting Melanie know but she’d found out before he could. He added, “But I promise, I’ve got people in there taking care of him.”

  “I know.” Her gaze lowered to her fingers as she asked, “It’s his new cellmate, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and a few of the guards.” Nic lifted off the armchair and strode towards the bed. Settling beside her, he slung his arm around her waist. “Is that what’s bothering you? Marcus?”

  Her answer was a heavy release of breath then she turned her head, burie
d her face into his shoulder and closed her fist over his shirt. He inhaled her jasmine scent as he bundled her closer to his body. Smoothing his hand over her back and shoulder, he soothed, “You don’t need to worry about him. He’ll be out by tomorrow anyway.”

  At his words, Melanie started. There was a hopeful spark in her eyes when she looked up at him. “He will?”

  Nic nodded. “Tomorrow afternoon. You’ll meet him at the airfield tomorrow.”

  “Are you serious?” The happiness that leapt to her rapidly widening eyes was gratifying.

  Nic smiled. “I’m serious.”

  “Oh, Nic.” She turned to him abruptly, almost knocked him back when she shifted from the bed to his lap. Straddling him, she wound her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. “Nic, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured as his arms surrounded her. Immediate awareness crept into his body as she pressed her delicious curves against his hard length.

  “I do.” She pulled back to look into his eyes, revealing the moisture glistening in her eyes. “Thank you so much.”

  He squeezed her waist. “Stop crying.”

  “I’m not crying.” She swiped a palm over her eyes as a brilliant grin lit up her features. “I’m just really, really happy. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leant forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He was glad she was happy but his own feelings were more complicated. Finding out that Park had pulled the strings to Marcus’s release so fast had been bittersweet.

  Sweet because at last he could get Melanie out of here and to safety.

  Bitter because her leaving meant that this was their last night together.

  That knowledge pricked at Nic, dulling his own happiness and lacing it with sadness. Loathe to ruin Melanie’s happiness with his gloom, Nic forced a smile. “You haven’t even told me where you’re going?”

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “New York.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He chuckled.

  “It’s always been my dream.” She shrugged as she loosely wove her arms around his neck.

  “I remember,” he murmured as their eyes locked. They were two words, but they had a sobering effect. They carried all the weight of the past and its bittersweet memories. Those memories circled over Nic and Melanie, taunting them with visions of what could’ve been. What could never be!

  It was like a splash of cold water.

  Nic wasn’t surprised when Melanie lowered her gaze from his then moved from his lap and back to the bed.

  He cleared his throat then said, “Once you leave California, you won’t be able to talk to any of your friends here for a while. Vance will be too busy dealing with the trouble we’re about to hit him with to come looking for you. But if he tries, we need to make sure he won’t find you. The less communication you have with anyone here, the better.”

  Her eyes widened. “Even Cece?”

  “Even Cece.” He nodded. “We can’t risk her telling anyone where you are.” When her lips parted, he knew it was to tell him that her friend would never talk. Nic forestalled her words with, “It’s not forever, Lanie. Just a couple of days or weeks until we get Vance locked up. Then you can call her, okay?”

  Her response was slow but at last she offered him a reluctant, “Okay.”

  “Get rid of your phone before you leave the house in case someone is tracking it, but you can keep the one I gave you,” Nic explained. “Your flight leaves at around eight p.m. but you can’t drive to the airfield on your own-”

  “- in case Vance is following,” Melanie finished for him.

  “So we’ll need to play a little hide and seek,” he agreed. “Pack up you and Sly’s bags. Bare essentials only then leave the bags on your bed. At seven, lock the house up and drive to Quenstop, the restaurant at-”

  “I know Quenstop,” she interrupted. “My neighbor manages it.”

  “Take a table next to the kitchen.” He reached into his jacket pocket to extract a photo of Diego and a lighter. He handed Melanie the photo. “This man will come for you there. Brett would’ve met you there but we’ll be busy-”

  “Brett?” Melanie cut him off. “You know Brett?”

  Nic thought of lying to her. But realizing that he’d already deceived her enough for a lifetime, he admitted. “I know Brett.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How?”

  “Brett was one of my commanders in the army,” he confessed. “I asked him to watch over you.”

  “Wait. Wait.” She lifted her hand to stop him speaking and closed her eyes as if trying to absorb the information he’d thrown at him. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his. “You’re telling me that all this time, Brett - my neighbor, the vet next door – was actually your spy?”

  Nic nodded.

  He expected to blow up, berate him but she surprised him by smiling. Smiling? Then said, “Okay.”

  “Okay?” His voice rose with his shock. “You’re not mad.”

  “I should be.” She tilted her neck as she stared at him pensively. “But I’m not. You were trying to keep an eye out for me and how can I be mad at that? Besides that, Brett’s an amazing neighbor and I’m guessing that if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here helping me with Vance, would you?”

  “Yeah, he’s the one who told me.”

  “Then I guess I owe him and you a thank you.” Melanie’s suddenly narrowed her eyes. “Please don’t tell me Cece’s a plant too.”

  Beyond relieved, Nic laughed and pressed a quick peck to her lips. “No, Cece was all you.”

  “Thank God!” Melanie turned her attention to Diego’s picture. “This is one of your people too?”

  “He is. He’ll meet you at Quenstop then drive you to the airfield,” Nic said. “Do you have his face?”

  Melanie peered at the picture for a moment then nodded. “Got it.”

  Nic plucked the photo from her fingers, lit it up then threw it to the bedside table. They watched the glossy paper flare up and burn until it was nothing more than ash. Turning his gaze back to her, Nic said, “At the airfield you will find a private jet that will fly you to New York. I got you an apartment in Manhattan.”

  “You bought me an apartment?”

  Of course he had. “You’ll need somewhere to stay.”

  “Then I’ll find a place with my own money.” She gave him a searching look. “Nic, don’t think that I’m not grateful for your help. I am. I really am.” Turning to face him, she sat on her hunches and reached for his hand. Linking their fingers, she continued, “But you’ve done enough for me already and beyond that I’d feel like I was using you.”

  His grip on her fingers tightened. “You’re not using me.”

  “But that’s how I’d feel.” This time when she straddled his lap, he was ready for her and his arms rounded her small waist instinctively. She stroked the nape of his neck as their eyes met. “I can handle the next part on my own, okay?”

  He would’ve protested further, but she distracted him by pressing her lips to his. It was a soft kiss, a tentative suckling on his lips to encourage his surrender. And he did. He opened his mouth at her urging, his tongue seeking hers. His protests got lost in her delicious taste and the feel of her body pressing to his.

  She wound a spell around him with her kiss, awakening and heating up his body. The tangling of their tongues and melding of the mouths, stoked his senses like a lighter being held to a cigarette. By the time she ended their kiss, he’d even forgotten what they were talking about.

  He licked his lips as he stared at her, enthralled by her lush lips slightly swollen and moist from their kiss. She broke his thrall when she asked, “Will I see you before we leave?”

  Her question instantly cooled him as did its answer. He shook his head.

  “Ever again?” The disappointment was evident in her voice and her eyes.

  It was the perfect time to tell her why they couldn’t see each other, yet somehow the words st
uck in his throat. He wasn’t sure what stopped him other than the certainty that if he told her, he’d be burdening her with guilt. He didn’t want Melanie blaming herself for his situation. His thorny bed was already spread, there was no point dragging her into it with him.

  So he shook his head. “No, we won’t be able to see each other again.”

  “Well I guess this time I know.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes or erase the glimmer of wistfulness in their brown depths.

  Nic would’ve given anything to erase her sadness. But he couldn’t. All he could do was press a soft fast kiss to her lips and say, “I’m sorry.”

  Their melancholy was like a wet blanket over them, heavy, depressing and uncomfortable. Nic swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he stared at Melanie. The light thrown by the bedside lamp cast a golden glow over her beautiful face. He absorbed it all, tattooed her into his memories.

  He would miss her.

  Likewise, her gaze raked him, her observation scalding in its heat. When she cupped her palm over his chin, her touch speared straight to his heart.

  “Nic.” Her whisper of his name undid him, unraveled his defenses. And when she arched towards him, he met her.

  He was weak for her and everything her kiss offered. Within moments, logic faded replaced by his desire for her. He pushed his fingers through her braids, tilted her head upwards and deepened the kiss. Her taste was like the water of life, fulfilling and refreshing. Her jasmine scent tickled his senses, setting them aflame. He wanted this kiss to never stop.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she ground on his lap in tune to the music of their lips. He lowered his hand to her ass keeping her glued there as his erection rose to meet her seductive twirls.

  There was nothing playful about this kiss. It was as real as the sad emotions and the need swirling between them. The way she slanted her lips over his, the way she suckled on his lips then eased her tongue into his mouth on his indrawn breath. It was too real. And there was no mistaking the meaning behind it.