Don't Say No

by Linda Verji

  “They aren’t using me. I’m using me,” Melanie clarified. “It’s the best way to get Vance off the streets.”

  “Oh! Hell no,” Marcus exploded. He stopped pacing long enough to glare at her. “You’re damn crazy if you think I’ma let you do this. No fucking way. What if something happens and he gets his hands on you. Then what? God damn it Melanie, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “Chill out. Slow down and stop stressing,” Melanie said. “He won’t get his hands on me because Nic and his men will be there with me.”

  “Nic? That punk ass honky?” He tossed a glare towards Nic who was by the flower beds with Sly showing him something. Marcus sneered. “The Runners will chew him and spit him out.”

  “That punk ass honky helped keep you alive when you were in prison. That punk ass honky helped keep me and your son alive. That punk ass honky brought down the Runners within a week,” Melanie reminded him. “If there’s any punk in here-it isn’t him.”

  “Whatever.” The vein in his neck pulsed angrily. “If anybody’s gon be out there, it should be me. I’m the one who brought all this down on us.”

  “You’re an escaped prisoner. You can’t walk around in a public hospital.”

  “What? They gon arrest me?” He chuckled but there was an edge to his laughter. “I don’t give a damn.”

  “First, you better start giving a damn because I haven’t done all this so you can get your ass into prison again.” Melanie folded her arms over her chest. “Second, you won’t even get past the gates before a cop spots you, and Vance won’t attack then. Sending you would be a waste of a good opportunity.”

  Marcus glared at Nic. “I bet Mr. Superman can fix it so the cops don’t arrest me.”

  “So he’s Superman now?” Melanie chuckled, though there was no amusement in her laugh. Tilting her neck, she observed her brother. “You don’t have to worry, Marcus. Nic and his team are good at their jobs. They found you, didn’t they? They’ll find Vance too and nothing will happen to me.”

  “I ain’t feeling this at all,” Marcus said stubbornly.

  “I know.” Melanie softened her tone. “But this is the best plan.”

  Marcus’s lips parted as if he wanted to protest more but even he had to admit that what she was saying made sense. Defeated, he slumped into the metal seat opposite her. “I ain’t feeling this at all.”

  “I’ll be okay.” She rose from her seat and circled the table to his side. She bent and hugged him from behind. “I promise.”

  When darkness came, they set out for the hospital.

  Despite the lateness of the hour, the hospital was a hotbed of sound, activity and emotion. Sirens wailed as an ambulance dropped off a new patient at the entryway. There was chaos as doctors and nurses hurried to receive them.

  Less critical patients watched the chaotic scene with dour expressions of sickness while the people accompanying them grumbled. Panic, indifference, anger, calm; the curious cocktail of emotions swirled in the waiting area and mingled with Melanie’s own fear.

  “Paging Dr. Kimbell,” a voice called over the PA system. “Paging Dr. Kimbell.”

  “Why is it taking so long to see a doctor,” a man yelled out to the subdued nurse behind the counter.

  “Please, take a seat, sir. The doctor will see you when it’s your turn?” the nurse ordered firmly. Her gaze turned from the man to Melanie. “Can I help you?”

  Melanie took a deep breath to ease her fear, even as her grip tightened over the bunch of flowers she was holding. “Cece Scott.”

  “A minute.” With a few quick taps on her keyboard, the stern-faced nurse came up with, “She just came out of surgery. They have her in the ICU.” She leaned over the counter to point to the hallway right of the waiting area. “That way.”

  The moment Melanie started down the hallway, Rafaél stepped beside her. Even as they walked, she was hyperaware of her surroundings. She absorbed each sound, sight and smell to spot any signs of Vance. Her mind cataloged all the protective measures Nic had put in place; the gun concealed in the hidden holster at her waist, the tracking device in her coat’s inner pocket, the men hidden in strategic positions all around the hospital. Vance wouldn’t get past them.

  We’ll catch him.

  “Clear,” Rafaél murmured as they trailed down the hallway. His words were for Nic and the rest of the team who were listening on the other end of his intercom.

  The further into the hospital they went, the quieter it became. The scent of antiseptic hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the sickness and death that coexisted in this place. A blue sign hanging from the ceiling and announcing ‘ICU’ caught her eye. It had an arrow pointing to the left. She turned the corner and further down another hallway that led to gray double doors. The double doors opened into another waiting room.

  This waiting room was practically empty. A lone nurse was seated behind the counter reading. On Melanie’s entrance, she lifted her gaze. “Yes?”

  “I’m here to see Cece Scott.”

  Her face immediately turned sour. “No. No visitors. Didn’t I just send a bunch of you people away an hour ago? I already told you the police are allowing only restricted visitation to her room. Restricted. You get that? R-E-S-T-R-I-C-T-E-D!” She clicked her tongue against her teeth and mumbled under her breath. “You’d think that girl was a damn celebrity or something.”

  Wow! Talk about rude. This is how people got punched in the face.

  Melanie opened her mouth to blast the nurse but before she could Rafaél stepped forward. “Hello.” His long-lashed gaze slid to the nurse’s name badge in a slow journey then came back to meet hers. His lips curved in a slow smile. “Nurse Tabitha.”

  The way he said the nurse’s name and smiled you’d have thought Tabitha was the sexiest name on the planet. The nurse, predictably, melted like ice-cream on a hot summer day. Her expression softened, and she leaned forward against the counter towards him, a smile already tugging at her lips. “Hello.”

  “My friend here is Cece’s sister, Nurse Tabitha,” He placed his hand on the counter, his fingers impossibly to close to Nurse Tabitha’s. “So you see Restricted doesn’t apply to her.”

  “I didn’t see any sister on file.” Nurse Tabitha moved her hand, closing the distance between their fingers. The tips of their fingers touched as she tilted her head and gave Rafaél a flirtatious smile.

  “Are you sure?” Rafaél coerced. “Why don’t you check again? For me?”

  “Weeell.” The nurse preened like a cat in heat.

  Good God woman, get a hold of yourself. He’s not all that. It took everything in Melanie to keep from snorting in irritation. But she didn’t want to mess up whatever game Rafaél was playing. His games paid off because two minutes later they had Cece’s room number.

  “Now I know why Nic keeps you around.” Melanie shook her head as they strode towards the room.

  “I have my talents.” Rafaél flashed her a quick wide-toothed grin.

  Standing outside Cece’s room were two uniformed cops. Their presence sent relief through Melanie. It was good to see that Cece was protected and even though she wanted Vance to attack, she preferred that it be as far as possible from her friend. The cops stopped her and Rafaél at the door.

  “This area is off limits to anyone but family.” The more muscular and darker of the cops said.

  “This is her sister, my wife,” said Rafaél as he wound an arm around Melanie.

  Both cops narrowed their eyes, whipped their guns from their holsters and pointed them at Rafaél and Melanie. “She doesn’t have a sister.”

  Oh, shit! Melanie took a startled step back. Rafaél, on the other hand, was unruffled by the guns. His voice was even as he admitted, “Okay, she’s not Cece’s sister. She’s her friend.”

  When Rafaél reached a hand inside his jacket, the light-skinned cop shouted, “Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  “Relax boys. I’m FBI. Special Agent Lionel Korda.” Rafaél
lifted one hand while he pulled one side of his coat open with his free hand and flashed his badge. “See.”

  “Joe, check him,” the darker cop ordered.

  Light-skin took a step forward and reached into Rafaél’s inside pocket and pulled out the badge. A keen glance later he pronounced, “Looks legit.”

  The cops were less gullible than Nurse Tabitha. They placed a call to their offices to check Rafaél’s badge number. Melanie thought they were caught for sure but Joe came back with a smile on his face and handed Rafaél back his badge. The cops relaxed when they realized Rafaél was one of them, enough to introduce themselves as Joe and Duncan and apologize for the inconvenience.

  A minute later, Rafaél and Melanie entered the room.

  Cece wasn’t alone. Seated beside her was Lewis. He turned reddened eyes towards the door on their entrance. “Mel?”

  “Hey, Lewis,” she greeted even as her gaze centered on Cece.

  Cece was lying on the bed, eyes closed, breathing tube in her mouth and IV tubes connected to her arm. Her head, neck and right arm were wrapped in bandages.

  Melanie had never seen her friend so still, not even in her sleep. Were it not for the slow rise and fall of her chest and the steady beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor, she would’ve thought her dead.

  Cece was always so alive and vibrant that seeing her like this broke Melanie’s heart. The sadness she’d been suppressing emerged from the cage she’d locked it in. It sunk into her blood eclipsing all other feeling until it seemed like her whole body was one big blob of sadness. She was so consumed in her observance of her friend she didn’t even notice when Lewis moved until he embraced her. Instantly his smell, a breath-chocking cologne with hints of weed, flooded her sense.

  “Thank you for coming,” her ex-husband murmured in her hair. “Your phone was off when I called so I wasn’t sure you’d know.”

  Melanie’s tracker went haywire a couple of minutes after she stepped into Cece’s room.

  “Shit!” Jan, the techie in charge of comms cursed. “Melanie’s tracker is down.”

  Nic’s anxiety immediately spiked. His first instinct was to jump from his position atop the guard’s house and storm into the hospital to find out what was going on. But his training kept him in position and he asked, “Interference from Vance?”

  “Don’t think so,” Jan said. “Rafaél’s coming in clean. Probably just a glitch. Let me see if I can fix it.”

  “Do it quick,” Nic ordered the techie. Switching the channel to another one of his team member, he asked, “Frankie, do you have a visual of Cece’s room?”

  “Nope. Cops kept giving me funny looks so I had to move,” said the operative closest to Cece’s room. She added, “But I’m around the corner with a visual of everyone coming into the ICU.”

  Nic had wanted to go into the hospital with Melanie, but Vance already knew his and Diego’s faces. Their presence next to her would’ve sent him scattering. Being positioned outside made more sense.

  There was a long pause in the conversation in Cece’s room that had Nic releasing an irritated breath of impatience even as he kept his sniper rifle trained on the gates.

  But finally Melanie’s voice came in loud and clear through Rafaél’s intercom. “One of my neighbors told me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier.”

  Nothing will go wrong. Nic reassured himself. Even with Frankie a distance away, Rafaél was quite capable of protecting Melanie on his own. And, according to Park, the cops who were at Cece’s door were clean. They would provide back up if Vance tried anything.

  Yet he still couldn’t shake the uneasiness. He hated this plan; hated it with everything in his being. Using Melanie as bait went against every grain of protectiveness in him. The only reason he’d agreed to it was because of Melanie and the look in her eye. That determined look said that she was doing this whether he wanted it or not.

  Nothing will go wrong.

  Back in Cece’s room, Melanie patted Lewis’s back awkwardly then extricated herself from his hold. Moving towards the bed, she asked, “How is she doing?”

  “The doctors got all the bullets out.” Lewis’s gaze flicked towards Rafaél who was standing by the door. He narrowed his eyes but made no comment about the man’s presence in the room. Striding back towards the other side of Cece’s bed, he added, “They say she’s stable for now but they are watching her.”

  Melanie set the flowers on the bedside table then straightened the turquoise sheets over Cece’s torso. “Your mum’s with the doctors?”

  “No, she went with Jeff to make sure they take care of Nan-” His voice broke at the mention of his dead grandmother and he bent his head.

  “I’m so-” Melanie started but stopped when the door was suddenly pushed inwards.

  From there everything happened so fast that when asked later, she couldn’t describe the exact sequence of events. One minute Rafaél was standing by the door, the next he blinked and then clutched the side of his stomach. “Mel-”

  This time she heard it; the low crack of sound that cut into his words. With a pained grunt, Rafael closed his eyes and crumpled to his knees. On instinct, Melanie whipped her gun from her holster just as the dark-skinned cop, Duncan, strode in behind Rafaél his gun out.

  Without second thought, Melanie pulled the trigger. A loud sound rang in the room as her bullet hit Duncan square in the chest. With a groan he fell to the floor next to Rafaél.

  “Rafaél.” She started towards him but before she’d even taken two steps Lewis stopped her.

  “I’m sorry, Mel,” Lewis said. Her gaze swiveled in his direction only to find him pointing a gun at her. “I’m sorry.”

  And he fired.

  CHAPTER 22

  Nic’s heart almost stopped when he heard Rafaél’s grunt, “Mel-” shortly followed by the gunshot. Even before Lewis said his, “I’m sorry, Mel,” Nic was already mobilizing his team. “Code Red. Cece’s room.”

  “On it,” responded Brett and Frankie.

  Nic’s instinct was to rush into the hospital himself, but his training kept him glued to his position. Their best strategy was for Brett to handle the inside of the hospital and for Nic to keep his rifle trained on the gate. If Lewis so much as came close to the gates, he’d be dead.

  Rafael’s intercom picked up a few sounds, but they were muffled that all Nic heard was the door opening and Lewis say, “Shoot… get… here.”

  “Jan, where are they?” Frankie puffed through fast breaths.

  “Still in the room,” the techie answered. Nic’s pulse pounded in his throat as he listened to the sounds of his operatives rushing towards Cece’s room.

  Dread clutched at him when a few seconds later he heard Brett cuss, “Rafaél and a cop are down.”

  Instant panic strangled Nic and his hands tightened over his rifle reflexively. Another second and then, Brett said, “Shit! The cop’s dead.” He paused a moment. “Rafaél’s still breathing.”

  Nic gritted, “Melanie?”

  Please, please, please, don’t be dead.

  “She’s not here.” Frankie’s pronouncement sent an immediate shot of relief through Nic. If she wasn’t there, it meant she was alive. Taken - but alive!

  “Her tracker’s still not working,” Jan said. “It looks like Lewis scrambled it or something.”

  “Shit!” Nic cussed. They should’ve gone in when the tracker started acting wonky.

  Frankie said, “No sign of her or Lewis in the room. Window’s open.”

  “Do we have a description of Lewis’s car?” Nic asked.

  “A second.” Jan paused then said, “Black Dodge Charger.”

  “No sign of Lewis on my end.” Nic’s voice was even as he stared through the scope of his rifle. “Diego?”

  “Nada,” Diego responded. “Only car that’s passed through here is a police-.”

  “Rafe, stay with me. You better not die on me, kid.” Brett’s panting cut into Diego’s words, but Nic still heard them.

/>   He asked, “Did you say police?”

  “Yeah, a squad car just passed through here,” Diego returned.

  “Damn it!” Fingers of chill touched at the nape of Nic’s neck and icy dread bloomed and wrapped around his heart. “Frankie, there were two cops outside Cece’s room. Where’s the other one? Joe?”

  Even before she came back with his answer, Nic had started clambering down from his perch. And when she did, it was just as bad as he thought, “Can’t find him.”

  Melanie swum in and out of consciousness.

  Her last real memory was of Lewis firing a dart into her shoulder. After that it was all darkness interspersed with blurs of being in some dark cramped space in a fetal position with something metallic digging into her back.

  The next time she woke, her first thought was that her head would fall off her neck. It was as if she had a ton of lead pressing into her temple and keeping her head plastered to the plush surface where she was lying. She tried to open her eyes but her lid seemed plastered together.

  “You sure no one followed you?” someone said behind her. The voice sounded familiar but Melanie couldn’t drag the memory of who it was from her hazy thoughts.

  “We’re good.” She recognized that voice too but couldn’t figure out how she knew it. The person added, “She only had one FBI agent with her and he’s dead.”

  “So we cool now?” someone asked. “You gon’ leave my family alone?”

  Lewis. His name cut into her subconscious so clearly that she let out an involuntary whimper. There was a pause in the voices then a woman said, “I think she is waking.”

  Iona.

  “Good.” Vance.

  Melanie’s eyes snapped open at his voice. At first her gaze was an unfocussed mess but it soon cleared up. She found herself staring at a tilted view of someone’s legs. She looked upwards only to come eye to eye with Iona. The redhead was seated on the couch opposite Melanie, filling away at her nails and looking for all the world like she was at a beauty salon.

  “Well, well, well,” Vance drawled behind Melanie. “If it ain’t Melaaanie from the hood.”