Hard Candy

by Amaleka McCall

Candice pulled her car onto a side street near the hospital. Still a bit shaken up by the turn of events, she exited on wobbly legs and walked toward the trunk of her car. She lifted the hard plastic spare tire cover and placed the black case and her duffel bag deep inside, near the donut spare tire. She locked the small cover with her key and then locked the trunk from the outside. She knew better than to leave her valuables unsecured in her trunk, especially given the off chance that someone could break into her car while she was inside the hospital.

  Candice looked over both shoulders to make sure nobody watched her secure the items. When she was comfortable, she climbed back into the car and drove around to Clarkson Avenue, where she inched slowly down the crowded block until she found a parking space.

  Candice scrambled out of the car and rushed into the emergency room entrance of Kings County Hospital. Although it was a county hospital, it had the best trauma center in Brooklyn.

  “Excuse me,” Candice said as she approached the reception desk.

  “Take this and fill it out,” the young, dark-skinned receptionist snapped without even looking up from her computer.

  Candice ignored the young girl’s outstretched hand and her obvious lack of customer service skills. “I’m here to see my sister. They just brought her into the trauma center.”

  “What is her name?” the receptionist asked dryly, still not making eye contact.

  Candice was stuck on stupid. She had no idea what Shana’s last name was. All of this time, she had never bothered to ask. Some friend she was.

  “Hello? What is your sister’s last name?”

  “Shana Bellamy,” a voice answered from behind.

  Candice whirled around. Tuck stood just inches behind her, his expression grim. Candice didn’t know how Tuck had gotten there. She wondered if it was fate that kept putting them in each other’s path. Looking up at him, her body felt hot all over. She didn’t know if it was the heat of her embarrassment or simple lust, but she felt like melting and throwing up at the same time.

  Tuck glanced quickly at Candice before eyeing the receptionist with contempt. “Shana Bellamy was just brought in by the EMTs. Her sister needs some information right now. As you can clearly see, she is very upset,” he said sternly.

  The receptionist rolled her eyes and popped the gum she was gnawing on like a hungry hostage. “Hold up,” she mumbled, raising a single corn-chip-shaped fingernail. She pecked on a few computer keys and looked back at Candice. “They haven’t put your sister in the system yet. Follow those red doors around, and there should be a nurse or doctor that can tell you something.”

  “Thank you.” Candice pivoted toward the red doors.

  “Hold on, Candy,” Tuck called after her. “I’m coming with you.”

  Candice didn’t resist him this time. She didn’t even feel the urge to be mean to him. Riding on a roller coaster of emotions right now, she didn’t know what she was going to find out about Shana’s condition, so Tuck’s presence might not be a bad thing after all. In fact, she thought having him present might just be a welcome distraction and source of support.

  When Candice and Tuck walked through the heavy metal doors that led to the trauma center, a security guard immediately stopped them.

  “You can’t go back there,” the wizened old guard warned, moving from behind his station at the small wooden podium.

  He reminded Candice of Otis, a security guard that Martin Lawrence played on his sitcom.

  “My sister was brought in a few minutes ago. I need some information. The girl out front—”

  “You have to sit out there like everybody else and wait for someone to come call for the family of your sister. Nobody is allowed behind these doors,” the guard said, wagging his wrinkled hand at Candice.

  Candice’s eyes dropped. She didn’t even know why she was going through all of this for a girl she barely knew. She couldn’t understand her concern for Shana, when all she wanted to do was use the girl in the first place. Perhaps she cared about Shana because she knew no one else did, Shana being all alone in the world, much like Candice herself.

  Tuck stepped up as Candice turned to walk away. “Wait over there, Candy,” he instructed.

  “Can I talk to you for minute?” Tuck said to the guard.

  The guard furrowed his brows as if he was ready to shout a firm “Hell no.”

  Tuck didn’t give him the chance. Tuck placed his palms roughly on the guard’s shoulders, which prompted the old man to turn around so Candice couldn’t hear their conversation. He showed the guard something and then heard the guard insist that this was all a misunderstanding.

  Tuck suddenly turned with a smile on his face. “C’mon, Candy. Let’s go see what we can find out.” He held his hand out for her.

  Candice bit her bottom lip. What the hell did he say to the guard? She hoped he hadn’t flashed his gun at the guard. The last thing she wanted to do was get arrested in the hospital for being an accomplice of sorts. She would deal with Tuck later. For now, she had to focus on getting more information about Shana.

  As Tuck led the way to the nurses’ station, the pungent smell of disinfectant shot right up Candice’s nose and sat at the back of her throat until she thought she could taste the alcohol in it. She looked around at the flurry of activity.

  A plump West Indian nurse stood up behind the high counter and asked, “Who let you back here?”

  “Ma’am, my girlfriend’s sister was brought in. Shana Bellamy. We need information,” Tuck explained to the nurse.

  His girlfriend? Candice’s mind reeled as she tried to concentrate on the nurse’s words, spoken in a thick accent.

  “This part of the hospital is for staff and patients only. You need to wait outside, and I will find out about her sister.”

  Before the nurse could utter another word, the air was cut with the sound of loud screams.

  “Code blue! Code blue!” nurses and doctors yelled, scurrying every which way.

  It seemed like everyone in the area was running to one of the small rooms. Candice’s shoulders slumped. She crossed her fingers in her pocket, making a wish that Shana wasn’t the intended recipient.

  Tuck grabbed her arm. “C’mon, they are busy. We can’t stay back here,” he said softly.

  Candice looked over at him with big doe eyes. She knew he was right. There was no use trying to get any more information out of the staff. They had no choice but to wait outside in the family waiting room until more was known about Shana’s condition.

  Inside the waiting room, several groups of people huddled together, some hugging and crying, others sleeping on each other’s shoulders. The mood in the room was more than glum; it was downright depressing.

  Candice found a hard plastic chair and sat down, and Tuck stood against the wall next to her.

  After an hour or so, Candice noticed a doctor heading in their direction. She tapped Tuck’s arm and motioned her head toward the fast-walking doctor. Her heart thumped wildly, but she relaxed back into her chair, releasing her breath in a large poof of air when the doctor called for the family of a patient named Briggs. She didn’t even realize until then that she had been holding her breath.

  A loud, ear-shattering scream chilled her right to the bone.

  Tuck looked down at the fear mounting in Candice’s eyes. “Are you all right, Candy?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  She nodded her head in the affirmative and then hugged herself tight in an attempt to stop the shivers racking her body.

  “How did you find out about Shana?” Tuck asked, looking down at Candice from where he stood, his back against the wall.

  “I went by her house to see her. She had been calling me for a couple of days. I didn’t know anything was wrong. I mean, I knew Broady had a problem keeping his hands to himself. We all knew that. But this? I never expected him to shoot her.” Candice wrung her fingers together to release some tension. “How did you get here yourself?”

  “I got a call from Junior sayi
n’ he wanted me to go see that nigga Broady. I went there to pick up some money that was owed to Junior,” Tuck lied. Junior had sent him to bring Broady’s black ass in.

  “Junior’s still not upset with Broady over that whole fight the night of Razor’s funeral, is he?” Candice asked, confused.

  “I dunno. When I got to Broady and Shana’s crib, I found the door open and blood on the steps. I got the fuck up outta there. I wasn’t tryin’a leave my DNA or fingerprints up in that camp. I went around the corner and hollered at nine-one-one. I threw that fuckin’ TracFone away and just laid back in the cut. I couldn’t be seen out there. I wasn’t tryin’a be no witness. I got a rap sheet and shit.”

  Tuck ran a hand down the side of his face. “I saw the medics leave with her, and I knew they were bringing her to the county. I got here before them. I ain’t even call Junior yet.”

  “So you think Broady just finally went over the edge on her?” Candice needed to know more details, even though she was getting angry just thinking about it.

  “With all the blood I saw on the steps, ain’t no tellin’ what that nigga went and did. The jake that was out on the scene mentioned gunshot wounds. Ain’t no tellin’ who did it, with shit the way it is in the streets these days,” Tuck said, hanging his head low.

  Candice closed her eyes and exhaled. She bit down into her jaw and forced herself to remain calm. After she learned about Shana’s condition, she would find Broady. Not only was he going to pay for allegedly participating in the massacre of her family, he was also going to pay for what he did to Shana.

  “You gon’ be all right?”

  “Yeah, I’ma be okay. But the cops better find Broady before I do,” Candice warned, her legs quaking with suppressed rage.

  “A lot of niggas lookin’ for Broady, including his own brother. He better hope the cops find him first,” Tuck said seriously, sitting in one of the newly vacated seats next to Candice.

  Six hours later, Candice was startled awake by the voice of a man announcing, “Family of Bellamy!”

  She jerked her head from Tuck’s shoulder and jumped at the doctor’s call. She wiped her face with the palms of both of her hands, trying to clear the cloud of sleep from her eyes. “That’s me. I’m, um, her sister,” she answered, sleep still evident in her voice.

  “Okay then, Ms. Bellamy. We can go and talk,” the doctor said.

  Tuck stood up and grabbed Candice’s arm for support. He knew from police experience that whenever the doctors wanted to take family members into the “bad news” room, shit couldn’t be good.

  Candice followed the doctor in silence. She allowed Tuck to hold on to her because it felt good, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she could do this by herself. She finally admitted to herself that her feelings for Tuck might be a little more complicated than she had realized.

  “Have a seat anywhere you’d like,” the doctor offered as they entered a room with a long black conference table and swivel chairs.

  Candice sat down in the first chair she saw, and Tuck took the seat to her left. Candice steeled herself for the news. Her fists were clenched so hard, her knuckles paled, and her toes were balled up inside of her shoes. Tuck reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers.

  “Ms. Bellamy, I’m afraid that your sister didn’t make it,” the doctor blurted out, sparing her the details. He had done it enough times to know that wasting time just prolonged the agony of the victim’s family.

  The doctor’s blunt words came across like an explosion in Candice’s ears. She blinked rapidly and stared at the doctor in disbelief, swallowing hard and shaking her head from left to right. She looked over at Tuck and then back at the doctor to confirm that she had heard correctly. Tuck’s expression erased any concerns she had with her hearing.

  “We tried to stop the bleeding in the brain, but it was too severe. Surgery to remove the bullet fragments from the skull is always touch-and-go. She never regained consciousness,” the doctor explained.

  Candice pushed away from the table and shot upright. She couldn’t deal with death right now. Not at a time when she’d just walked out on her relationship with Uncle Rock. Her world seemed to be crumbling down around her. She raced down the hallway, heading toward the nearest exit.

  Tuck was hot on her heels. “Candy! Wait! Let me take you home! You can’t drive like this!” he yelled after her.

  Candice continued at her feverish pace. She just wanted to be left alone.

  As Tuck gave chase, his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket. “Shit!” He chose to ignore the call. He raced after her until they both spilled onto the street.

  Candice sped to her car, refusing to stop for Tuck. Just as she hit the button to open her car door, Tuck threw himself in front of her, blocking her access. Her chest heaved up and down from the mad dash.

  Tuck’s chest rose and fell just as fast. “Candy, wait a minute!” he panted. “It’s okay. I want to take you home. You’re in no condition to drive,” he reasoned, struggling to catch his breath.

  Candice’s lip quivered. She just wanted to get home. Shana’s death had her vulnerable. “Please move,” she requested in a whisper-like voice. She didn’t know if she meant it, but she said it nonetheless.

  “No. Let me drive you home. I will even take a cab back to pick up my car later. Let me be here for you,” Tuck pleaded.

  Candice was overwhelmed by feelings she had never experienced before. His face was so beautiful. She felt weakened by his simple request to help.

  “Okay,” she whispered, the rush of emotion too much for her to handle. Tears streamed unhindered down her cheeks. And they weren’t all for Shana, a girl she hardly knew. Mostly, they were for her—for the life she had been denied.

  “It’s okay.” Tuck grabbed her into a tight embrace as she began to sob in earnest. Tuck held on to her as if she were the last woman on earth.

  Candice stood rigidly against his muscular chest. She had not been touched like this, held like this before, except in a paternal way.

  At eighteen, Candice was an adult in so many ways. She lived on her own, thanks to money her father had left behind. She could kill a man, thanks to training she received from Uncle Rock. She had the body of a grown woman, thanks to good genes. But, at heart, she was still a very innocent young woman. She wanted the love of a man to validate herself as a woman. She craved affectionate hugs and kisses, which Uncle Rock never gave.

  In more ways than one, she wasn’t prepared to deal with the overpowering sexual attraction she felt toward Tuck at this moment. As she let this stranger hold her closely, her mind became muddled and her judgment cloudy. Candice cried into Tuck’s arms, ignoring everything Uncle Rock had warned her about love. She knew Uncle Rock’s theories about love had been based on lies, to begin with. For the first time since she’d lost her family, she let herself be vulnerable.

  Tuck grabbed Candice’s car keys from her tearsoaked hands and opened her car doors, allowing her to enter from the passenger side of the vehicle. “Tell me your address,” he said softly as he started the ignition.

  “I don’t want to go home,” Candice whispered, looking at him with sad eyes.

  Tuck melted a bit inside. He sucked in his breath and pulled the car out of the spot.

  Tuck didn’t want to degrade Candice by taking her to the apartment Junior believed he lived at in Brevoort Houses. Feeling just as weak and vulnerable as Candice, he headed for his undercover apartment. He knew it was taking a chance, but he wanted and needed to be with her tonight.

  Although he was trying to be strong for her, he was also experiencing some serious trauma from his cheating wife. In fact, Brubaker was probably busy spinning a story about him to the DEA bigwigs right now.

  Candice lay her head on the headrest and closed her eyes. For some reason, at that moment, she decided to trust Tuck. Just being in his presence made her feel at ease.

  They rode in silence through the streets of Brooklyn, the city lights shining through the windsh
ield and washing over their faces as they drove. Right now, they needed each other more than anyone else.

  When they arrived on the Park Slope block, Tuck luckily was able to find a parking spot on the usually overcrowded street. He shook Candice awake.

  She jumped up, clutching her bag close to her chest. Tuck was startled by her reaction, and he jumped too.

  “Hey, hey, you okay?” he asked softly.

  Candice exhaled slowly, gathering her wits. “Where are we?” she asked, looking around, her heart racing wildly. She knew better than to trust anyone, let alone a man. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid.

  “At my place,” Tuck calmly replied.

  Candice peered out of the window and looked up and down the block. “You live here?” she asked with furrowed brows. She had assumed he lived in one of the bad neighborhoods in Brooklyn.

  “Yeah. Let’s get going. You need to rest,” he said, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear.

  Candice flinched at his touch.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured, his voice a soft hum. He looked straight in her eyes as he held the back of her head.

  Tuck’s direct gaze made Candice feel extremely nervous. She wanted to bolt from the car, but her legs felt like two lead pipes. He pulled her head toward his and gently placed his mouth on top of hers.

  Candice’s mind told her to resist, but her body fell into step. She closed her eyes, just as she had done when she practiced on her hand.

  When Tuck forced his tongue between her pursed lips, she resisted at first, but the hot feeling overcoming her body made her open up and accept him. Their tongues intertwined in a sensual dance. Candice kissed Tuck back like her life depended on it. What she lacked in experience, she made up for with enthusiasm.

  When they moved apart, she could feel a throbbing pulse between her legs. She had never felt such an intense feeling down there before.

  “You ready?” Tuck asked.

  Candice wasn’t sure what he was asking for, but she knew what she wanted him to mean. She nodded her head, completely at a loss for words. The pulsation between her legs was enough to drive her crazy.