Don't Say No

by Linda Verji

“But I didn’t deposit that,” Melanie said. “Nic did.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not sure who this Nic is, but it says here that you’re the one who deposited the funds into your account.” He pointed the descriptions of the flawed transactions. All of them had Melanie’s name, her full social security number, complete with the time and date of deposit.

  “You don’t understand. That’s impossible.” She pointed to several figures within the document. “These are my deposits.” She pointed to the new deposits. “These are Nic’s and they’re new. I know because I checked my balance last week, and this money wasn’t there.”

  The teller looked as nonplussed as she felt. “I’m sorry Miss Daniels, but our records show that you’re the one who deposited the funds.”

  “Can you check again?” she insisted.

  The results were the same. There was no proof that the funds in her account were anything other than the savings of a very diligent woman.

  Talk about eerie. If she wasn’t her, she would’ve believed that she’d made the deposits too. How had Nic done it? The thought that he could manipulate her account like that scared her.

  What had she got involved in?

  She was still freaked out by the time she stepped back into the store. Her tension only escalated when Cece walked in ten minutes after her.

  “C, what are you doing here?” she asked on a breathless rush of words. With Iona and crew here, Cece was the absolute last person she wanted in Darlene’s.

  Cece cocked an eyebrow. “Well, hello to you too.”

  “Sorry, hi.” Melanie stood. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  “I just came to check on my dress.” Cece’s gaze skipped towards the jewelry corner where Iona had just returned with a gift bag and was handing it to a client. Her gaze lingering on the two, Cece half-murmured, “And to take you to lunch.”

  Another client walked in. Melanie groaned internally when she spotted him. The young biracial man fit every stereotype in the thug book; grills in his teeth and tattoos spilling from every pore. His outfit comprised a du-rug, a silver chain dangling against his wife beater, gray sweatpants and of course, a red bandana on his wrist. That red bandana didn’t escape Cece and her eyes narrowed.

  Eager to distract her, Melanie rushed in, “I carried it to the house with me yesterday. I’ll bring it over to your place tonight. But, I wouldn’t mind that free lunch at all.” She grabbed her purse from the corner of the seat intending to drag Cece out of the store before she started asking questions. “Come on let’s-”

  Too late. Cece interrupted. “Who’s that?”

  “That? That’s just Iona. She’s renting out a part of the shop to sell jewelry.” Melanie fought to keep her voice flippant as she crossed to the other side of the desk. She fit her arm into the crook of her friend’s arm to guide her out of the store. “Where were you thinking of going for lunch? I’m thinking Purple Lotus.”

  Cece moved but not in the direction Melanie was planning. “Hold up.” The larger woman dragged a very reluctant Melanie towards Iona’s corner.

  As soon as the Iona and her client saw them coming, they stopped their negotiations and kept quiet. Cece stopped in front of the counter, and smiling brightly, she held out her hand. “I’m Cece.”

  Iona seemed puzzled, but she took Cece’s hand gingerly in a weak handshake before quickly releasing it.

  Cece turned to the client. “Do I know you?”

  Mr. Mulatto Thug gave Cece an appreciative once over before smirking. “Maybe.”

  “Hmm.” Cece gave him a dismissive look before she leveled another smile at Iona. “I hear you’re selling jewelry here.” She arched her neck to peer into the display case. “You’ve got really nice pieces here.”

  “Thank you.” The redhead’s tone was chilly as ice.

  “I like that one.” Cece pointed to the gaudiest silver medallion Melanie had ever seen. The thing looked like something you’d secure a gate with, not dangle around your neck. Cece turned to Iona’s client. “What’d you think?”

  “It’s fine.” The man’s shrug towards the medallion was non-committal. But the way he licked his lips as he leered at Cece had Melanie’s skin crawling on behalf of her friend. He bit his lower lip. “You finer though, with your thick self. That ass! Whoooeee!”

  If Cece’s eyes were fire, that man would’ve been roasting right now.

  Melanie thought her friend would smack his du-rugged head, but Cece grinned. “You’re right. It’s a cool piece. I bet my fiancé would love this for his birthday.” She leaned towards the client conspiratorially and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s a cop.”

  Oh shit! If Melanie could she would’ve dragged her friend out right at that moment. But her hard yank on her friend’s arm had no effect other than the increasingly resolute expression on Cece’s face. The ‘client’, on his part, slinked out of the store so fast, you’d have thought he was a ghost.

  Cece turned her attention to Iona. “How much are they?”

  Iona shot her a look full of venom and gritted through her teeth, “You can’t afford.”

  “You sure?” Cece sighed as if in disappointment “You’re probably right. But you know I really like this one. I think…” She paused dramatically. “… I’ll stop by here everyday just to see if it’s still here until I can afford it.”

  Iona’s bullet gaze was answer enough about what she thought of that idea.

  “It was nice meeting you, Iona.” Cece smiled sweetly and waved before finally allowing Melanie to march her out of the store. She was quiet the whole walk to their favorite restaurant. It was only after the server set their plates of stir-fried chicken, vegetables and noodles before them that she exploded. “What is wrong with you? You’re running with dope boys and girls now?”

  Melanie tried for ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Girl, please. That boy was Wanda’s cousin, Jorrell. Every body knows Jorrell slings. And we both know that only Runners wear those red bandanas. We were literally just talking about them the other day.”

  “Maybe he just came to buy a chain.”

  Cece rolled her neck and gave her a quelling look that said ‘you aren’t fooling anyone’.

  Melanie picked at her food for a few silent minutes, avoiding Cece’s unwavering gaze. Finally she sighed and lifted her head. “It’s complicated.”

  “Uncomplicate it for me.”

  How she wished she could. But then once Cece discovered Melanie was being coerced by Vance, she’d insist on getting involved, which would lead to Jeff getting dragged in. From there, the situation could only go one way - from bad to worse. Vance wouldn’t take any interference into his business lightly.

  The last thing Melanie wanted was anyone getting hurt because Cece was trying to be a good friend. So she played the only card she knew would get Cece to step back. She murmured, “I needed a little money.”

  “What?” Cece’s exclamation reverberated through the full restaurant, drawing the attention of some of the patrons. She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “What? I thought the store was doing well.”

  “It isn’t.” Melanie shook her head. “And with Sly, the bills, everything… it’s so hard.”

  Concern filled her friend’s eyes. “You could’ve come to me instead of…” She let her words trail off into loaded silence.

  Melanie felt like a heel for lying to Cece, but this was for her friend’s protection as much as it was for her family’s. She said, “It’s only for a little while.” She set her hand over Cece’s and squeezed. “And it’s only weed. Please don’t tell Jeff.”

  “Mel-”

  “Promise me,” Melanie pleaded.

  Thirty minutes later, she tramped back to Darlene’s having secured Cece’s promise not to tell Jeff anything. Though she trusted her friend’s loyalty, she was still apprehensive that she might say something to Jeff and rock the already fragile boat. There was nothing to it, but to pray.


  Iona said nothing about Cece’s visit, but she kept shooting Melanie looks that made her uneasy. Melanie was more than glad to be shuffled out of the store early by Jiggy if only to avoid those looks. After bidding Jo goodbye, she made her way to her car.

  She’d just opened the door when a black limo came to a smooth stop inches from her own car. The back door opened.

  “Get in.” Vance called from the inside.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Melaaanie from the hood,” Vance’s lazy drawl pierced through the bug in his limo and direct to Nic’s ear. “I hear you got friends I don’t know about. Who’s that bitch?”

  “She’s nobody,” Melanie rushed to say.

  “I asked you…”

  Melanie’s sharp intake of air sounded over the earpiece in Nic’s ear, setting his nerves on edge.

  Vance repeated, “…who’s that bitch?”

  Nic’s fingers fisted tightly over the steering wheel as he sped up. As soon as his people had informed him that Vance had grabbed Melanie he’d bounded to his car and headed towards them.

  “Her name’s Cece.” Melanie’s voice shook as she pleaded, “But I swear she knows nothing. She was only coming to the store to look at her wedding dress. I didn’t tell her anything, and she won’t interfere.”

  “Do you want me to run interference?” Brett, who was listening to Vance and Melanie’s conversation too, asked on a different feed.

  “Hold,” Nic ordered curtly. As much as he wanted Melanie out of that limo, he also didn’t want to risk their whole operation unless necessary. But his breath seized at the thought of Vance hurting her. The dread spurred him to step on the gas.

  There was a long pause on Vance and Melanie’s end that had Nic clenching his jaw. Then Vance said, “Keep that bitch out my business or she and your brother will be six feet under.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Vance ordered, “Get out.”

  Nic breathed his first easy breath in ten minutes when he heard the door close. And after muting the rest of Vance’s conversation he dialed the encrypted line he’d given Melanie. It took several dials, but she finally picked the phone.

  The fear was clear as day in her voice when she said, “Nic?”

  “Baby, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said but her breath hitched at the word.

  Her noticeable fear sent a tremor of anger through Nic. Obviously he hadn’t thrashed Vance well enough. He wanted to rush to her apartment right at that minute. But sneaking into her building while there was light outside was too risky a play especially if Vance had eyes on her. He’d have to wait until dark. The thought of not being there to hold her and tell he’d take care of her rankled him.

  “Can you drive?” he asked.

  She inhaled a deep breath then said, “Yes, I’m in my car.”

  “Go get Sly from school and the go home,” he ordered, his matter of fact tone belying the frustration rolling in his belly. “Lock up until I come, okay?”

  “Okay.” Then she said, “Nic?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Please make sure Cece and Marcus are okay.”

  Why was he not surprised that even while afraid for her life, she was still thinking of other people? He reassured her, “I will.”

  Immediately after the end of their conversation, Nic talked to Brett, urging him to get someone to watch Cece’s house as well ensure the man that had inside San Quentin was on high alert. He wouldn’t put it past Vance to try to make a lesson out of Marcus.

  It only took two hours for night to fall, yet even then Nic still had to wait for Sly’s bedtime. The wait bit at him like an unwanted tether, agitating him. Eight p.m. had never seemed so far off. Only his training kept him from giving in to his baser instinct to go to her despite the risks.

  He killed time at a bar a couple of blocks away from her apartment, sipping on water and watching a few early partiers gyrating on the dance floor. In his nondescript leather jacket over a gray v-neck t-shirt, dark jeans and white canvas sneakers, he fit in easily with the revelers.

  The clock struck eight, but he stayed seated giving it a few more minutes, just in case. At eight fifteen, he paid his bill and left the bar. The walk to her building was quick as was his scaling the fire escape.

  He found her waiting for him.

  She’d taken his advice and bought a better latch for her window. Tonight, he had to knock on the window to get in. She edged closer to the glass and peered outside. When she confirmed it was him, she pushed the window upwards. She stepped aside so he could haul himself inside the room and lower his feet to the carpet.

  As soon as he was in, he cataloged her condition to make sure Vance hadn’t hurt her.

  His gaze journeyed down her body in slow consideration. He took in her unmarked face, the bedside lamp’s glow reflecting on its smooth bronze, and the plump limps. He lingered on her pert bosom shielded from his eyes by the calf-length stripped black and white dress that flared out at her wide hips.

  His assessment revealed nothing alarming, other than that she seemed to grow more beautiful with each passing day. Except for the apprehension still lurking in her eyes, she appeared okay. Yet that apprehension had his gut clenching.

  He didn’t know who moved first, only that the next moment found her in his arms.

  Holding her was like dipping a thirsty man into an oasis and her arms winding around his waist was like coming home. He inhaled her jasmine scent, brought her closer so he could fit her curves into the hard length of his body. When it wasn’t enough, he lowered his arms beneath her ass and lifted her off the ground until they were at the same level. He buried his head into the crook of her shoulder and closed his eyes.

  He was home.

  Melanie cradled the back of Nic’s neck as he held her, her fingers teasing the silky smooth strands of his hair. She knew fear but Vance’s appearances gave another name to the emotion; intensified it to mythic proportions until it felt like her blood was ice crawling slowly through her veins in quivering terror. She’d been scared when he’d ambushed her; frightened out of her mind when he’d asked about Cece and gripped her jaw painfully to force an answer from her. But being so close to Nic eased her fear, slowly replacing it with a sense of security..

  She curved her arm around his shoulder in a tight hold and pressed her breasts to his chest. If it wasn’t for the snugness of her dress she would’ve wound her legs around his flanks. His strong grip beneath her ass barely satisfied her craving for his closeness. She wanted to crawl into his skin, hide from everything that was happening around her and never come out again.

  Time disappeared in the wake of their embrace.

  She clung to him and he clung to her; their bodies melding in silent comfort. She’d missed this side of him. The side that was always there at the right time, just when she needed him. His strength surrounding her was like a balm to her fright. The sinewy muscles of his shoulders rolled as his arms formed a rigid band around her in a show of power, comfort and protection.

  He wouldn’t let her fall.

  The longer he held her, the less her fear was, until it ebbed into nothingness. Finally she inhaled a deep gulp of relief and lifted her head from his shoulder.

  Her gaze locked with his. Concern dripping from his expression and his deep voice, he asked, “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  He offered her a disbelieving look. Worry making his voice sharp, he demanded, “Sure?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Cece and Marcus?”

  “Don’t worry about them,” he reassured. “I’ve got people watching both of them. They’ll be safe.”

  “Are you sure?”

  This time he was the one who nodded.

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “For that, and for coming over.”

  He offered a smile of his own but didn’t let her to the floor. And she didn’t ask him to.

  Her heart suddenly began palpitating as the embrace that had been innocent just a few m
inutes ago, morphed into something heavy with tense anticipation. There was nothing innocent about the way her nipples perked up against his chest, or the sudden tightness in her lower belly, or the hard lump gradually swelling where her thigh met his groin. Nothing innocent at all!

  His dark gaze held her transfixed, incapable of speech or objection when he lowered her just the slightest bit until his warm breath brushed her lips. It felt as if her heart might flutter out of its cage if he didn’t do anything to break the tension.

  This close to him, his features were stark to her perusal. She mentally traced his dark eyes, aquiline nose and lips surrounded by the light fade. Despite herself, she found herself cupping his jaw. It was just a touch, but it sent a delicious shock of excitement through her.

  But it was his deep voiced, “Lanie,” that melted her insides, rendering her immobile when he brought his mouth closer to hers. Her breath faltered when he touched his lips to hers.

  For a moment, her lips were still, motionless as he explored them with his own. There was no pressure to the soft exploration, almost as if he was giving her time to stop him. She didn’t. So his lips firmed over hers and he suckled her lower lip into his mouth. His sudden forcefulness unleashed the storm that had been slowly gathering inside her, triggered her own desire. She opened her mouth allowing him to dip his tongue in.

  Ah, she’d missed his kiss.

  It was magical. The slow touch of his lips against hers wove a spell through her that had her blood singing in her veins and her brain shutting down any rational thought. His kiss engaged her senses with teasing strokes of his tongue that speared straight to her pussy.

  She needed to be closer to him.

  She lifted her legs, trying to weave them around his waist but the skirt of her dress trapped her. She let out a whimper of frustration that Nic swallowed with a torturously long kiss. He eased one hand upward over her ass and squeezed the firm flesh. His strong touch immediately sending a jolt of moisture to her panties.

  The tempo of the kiss increased as did its frenzy.

  Nine years equaled a lot of pent-up sexual energy. Their lips, tongues and teeth locked and clashed as he yanked her harder into the web of desire. It was almost as if they were at war, each trying to inhale the other. Still kissing her, Nic backed towards the bed. He lowered himself to it with her knees on each side of his body.