Don't Say No

by Linda Verji

  She broke the hushed silence. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

  I wish I could stay. You don’t know how much I want to stay, he wanted to say. But the words stuck in his throat because he knew that he would raise her hopes for nothing. Their fate was sealed.

  He tilted her chin upwards and pressed his mouth against hers in a deep passionate kiss. Into that kiss, he put all the feelings he couldn’t express with words. His kiss eased her into sleep and soon her breath evened out. He couldn’t sleep.

  A little after four a.m. he left. But before he did her left her a note;

  I’ll miss you too, my love. More than you’ll ever know.

  CHAPTER 17

  Melanie didn’t know what to make of the note. My love? More than you’ll ever know? Was that his way of saying he still loved her? If she didn’t have to prepare for hers and Sly’s exit, she would’ve dwelt on his words more. But she did.

  She did everything exactly as she would any normal Monday morning; dropped off Sly at school at seven thirty a.m. then drove to the store. Neither Iona nor Jiggy had arrived, so she waited outside the store. Jo arrived thirty minutes after she did, and Melanie took the opportunity to pay her assistant.

  “You gave me extra,” Jo said staring goggle-eyed at the notes her boss had placed in her hands. “This is a whole month’s worth.”

  “Consider it an advance,” Melanie said. Or your severance pay. She felt a stab of guilt at not being able to tell the younger woman that this was her last day working at Darlene’s. “I know you’re not planning to be a shop assistant forever. Have you thought of what you’ll do after this?”

  Jo shrugged. “I was thinking was sending some of my sketches to Project Runway or Fashion Star, but I’m not good enough.”

  “Don’t say that. I’ve seen your designs.” Melanie complimented, “They’re amazing.”

  “Thank you.” Jo beamed. “That means a lot coming from you.” However after a brief pause her smile fell. “But my mama refused to pay for design school and says that fashion design isn’t a real job. She wants me to go to nursing school.”

  “Your mama only means well for you.”

  “But what if she’s forcing me to do something I don’t want to do,” Jo complained.

  The last thing Melanie wanted to do was turn the younger woman against the one person who probably cared most about her in the world. She hesitated for a moment, then choosing her words carefully said, “Show her how hard you’re willing to work for your dream and that you can make a living from it.

  Don’t just send your sketches to competitions. Start scouting for clients within your neighborhood, sewing for them and saving money to help pay for design school. If your mama sees how serious you are, your sketches are actually bringing in some money, and that designing can be more than a hobby, it might change her mind.”

  Jo was denied a chance to respond by Iona and Jiggy’s arrival. But Melanie hoped that her words had at least struck a thoughtful note in the young lady. Maybe when Vance was gone and everything had settled down, she could follow up with her.

  She sat through a whole day of zero traffic in the clothing section of the store and constant traffic in the jewelry section. At midday, she called Cece offering to treat her to lunch. At around two p.m., when Cece’s shift ended, they met at Purple lotus for their usual stir-fried chicken and noodles.

  Her friend was cheery, and Melanie laughed along even though inside she was anything but happy. This was probably the last lunch they’d have together for a long, long while. She wanted thank her friend for everything she and her family had done for Melanie and her family. Over the years Cece support and friendship had got her through a lot of rough patches and she considered her the sister she’s never had.

  Melanie wished she could tell her how much she appreciated her. Yet she couldn’t without raising her suspicions. She settled for a long embrace, but even after walking away there was a strange hollowness in the pit of her stomach. At four p.m., she picked Sly up from school.

  “Where are we going?” her nephew asked as he handed her three more of his tshirts to fit into their shared suitcase.

  “For a short trip,” she said distractedly as she fitted the clothes into their shared suitcase. “Go get your X-box.”

  “Why? We never travel with it.”

  “We might not be coming back in some time and I won’t be able to buy you another one.”

  His eyes widened. “Then can I take my bike too?”

  “Only if it can fit in here.” She patted their suitcase. He eyed the large black case as if considering it. When even his mental gymnastics couldn’t find a way to do that, he stuck out his lip in disappointment. Feeling sorry for him Melanie said, “But you can bring your blasters.”

  “Okay.” The smile that lit up his face was gratifying. He almost tripped on his own feet as he rushed for the door in pursuit of his toys.

  “And pull up your pants, Sylvester,” she yelled out after him.

  She didn’t know what time they’d be leaving or how long it would take so she fed Sly. While he ate, she emptied the fridge and pantry of all its food. When she was sure there was no one looking she fast-walked down the hallway to the Robinsons’ door and left the packed grocery bags in front of their door.

  Back in the apartment, Melanie called Jo telling her not to go back to Darlene’s until she called her again. The younger woman took the news in stride¸ probably helped along by the bonus she’d received earlier that day. She then wrote a letter to Cece. In the letter she expressed the appreciation she couldn’t during lunch and told her she’d call when she could.

  She also scrawled a quick note to Brett. In it she thanked him for watching out for her, asked him to give Cece her letter, and gave him permission to do what he wished with the things in her house. After stuffing both letters and her spare front door key into an envelope, she slipped the package under Brett’s door.

  By the time Melanie was done with her last exit duties it was seven minutes to seven and time to leave. As instructed she turned off her phone and dumped it in the bin before leaving their suitcase atop the bed.

  “Why aren’t we carrying our suitcase?” Sly asked as she shuffled him out of the house.

  “Someone will bring it for us.” She took one last look at what had been their home for the last five years. This had been their first real home and the thought of leaving all of it behind sent a stab of both sadness and fear through her. She’d never thought she’d have to start afresh. She sighed and shut the door.

  Sly eyed her suspiciously. “What if he steals my X-box?”

  “No one will steal your X-box,” she said as she locked the house. She tucked her house keys into her purse rather than leave them for her landlord. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Nic. She was just used to things backfiring. In case things didn’t work out tonight at least they had somewhere to go to.

  “Are you sure no one will steal it?” Sly pestered. “Niggas these days-”

  She slapped the back of his head. “What’d I tell you about using that word?”

  “But Jamal uses it,” he protested as he rubbed his head.

  “You’re not Jamal.” Guiding Sly down the stairs by hand she added, “And your things will be fine. I promise I got you.”

  At the bottom of the stairway, they bumped into another one of their neighbors, Mrs. Williams. She smiled at them, “Where’re you off to at this time of the night?”

  “We’re going out for dinner.” The lie slipped past Melanie’s lips easily.

  “Bring something for me.” The elderly woman waved them off.

  “Oh, oh, oh. You lied to Mrs. Williams.” Sly could barely restrain his glee as they exited the building. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Lying is very bad, Aunty.”

  “Boy, get in the car.” Melanie kissed her teeth.

  “Are we passing by Aunt Honey’s to say goodbye,” he asked as they pulled out of their spot.

  “Not this time, baby
.”

  “Why?” He kept peppering her with questions as she drove. Melanie tried to answer them as well as she could without scaring him with the whole truth.

  Fifteen minutes later, she parked her car in front of Quenstop. It was hard to miss the restaurant; what with the four-foot tall sign advertising it. The moment they entered the restaurant, delicious aromas of food and the soulful sound of Vera Lynn crooning ‘We’ll Meet Again’ welcomed them. The restaurant was packed with patrons scattered around square, dark wood tables and mission-style chairs.

  Surprisingly - or maybe not so surprisingly - there was one table open right next to the kitchen. Melanie and Sly weaved their way past other tables to that one.

  “Welcome to Quenstop,” a chirpy waitress in a green shirt and black pants approached as soon as they sat down. She whipped out a notepad and pen. “What can I get you tonight?”

  Melanie was too anxious to eat, but it would look odd if she came to a restaurant and didn’t order anything. She started to order, “What drinks do you-”

  “Naomi,” a male voice interrupted behind her. Melanie turned her head and came eye to eye with the man from Nic’s picture. On the glossy paper, the man was scary enough. But in person, he seemed huger, taller and his expression grimmer. He was even scarier than Vance, which was saying a lot. His eyes were on the chirpy waitress. “Manager asked me to handle this table. Table six is asking for you.”

  “Okay.” Naomi scrambled away like she was being chased.

  Once the waitress was gone, he scanned the restaurant quickly as if looking for someone. His perusal over, he turned his gaze Melanie’s way. “This way.”

  Grabbing her nephew’s hand, Melanie followed him into the kitchen. The sounds of sizzling, banging of sauce-pans and orders being shouted out filled the large space. Servers and chefs bustled around with dinner traffic, too busy to notice the three people passing through. They stepped back into the cold night through the back door.

  A black SUV stood parked right outside. The man opened the back door for them before hopping into the driver’s seat. He was silent as he pulled out of the parking lot or even as he drove into traffic. Melanie didn’t break the silence either, unable to think of anything worth saying. Other than that he was Nic’s associate, she didn’t know the man from Adam. She expected Sly to ask questions, but he seemed to have picked up on her anxiety and cuddled against her silent as a grave. She slung her arm around his shoulders, stroking his arm in unspoken comfort.

  Soon, the flurry of the city gave way to quiet countryside. They drove past black guarded gates into an open field flunked to the right by a row of hangars. A few of the hangars were open revealing parked airplanes. In the distance, she could see lights marking the runway and a white jet on said runway. The closer they crept to the jet, the more distinct its features became; rudder, turbine engines and winglets all in royal blue, and a royal blue strip running around the main body.

  They stopped a distance a few feet from the jet’s lowered air-stair. Nic’s guy companion opened the car doors for them and ushered them out onto the runway. “Your brother will be here soon but we’ll wait for him inside the jet.”

  “Okay.” Melanie nodded. “Thank you.”

  Sly clung to her hand as they walked to the jet then climbed the stairway. At the top, she turned back to take one last look at California. This far from the city the only thing visible was the glimmer of bright lights and the shadows of buildings. But the sight of them sent a pang of melancholy through Melanie. She’d been so eager to get out of this state for so long that the sadness was surprising. It felt like she was saying goodbye to a dear friend.

  She took one last breath of the fresh air of goodbye and sighed. It’s been real.

  She turned and they stepped into the jet.

  Nic would’ve liked to be the one to take Melanie to the airfield for one last goodbye. But he was tied up.

  Actually, he wasn’t the one tied up. RayRay was. The man was blindfolded, tied to a chair and had a gun pressed to his head. The beads of sweat clustered over RayRay’s brow trickled down his face.

  He was so scared he kept licking his ashy lips and his whole body was a bundle of trembles, shakes and jerks. Though, who’s to say that that wasn’t a side-effect of cocaine withdrawal. After all, it’d been almost four hours since they’d kidnapped him.

  Rafaél pressed the barrel of the gun harder against RayRay’s temple as Brett said curtly, “You don’t bring back my girls, I kill him.”

  The phone balanced on Brett’s palm picked up his voice, scrambled it and sent it as a disembodied mechanical rendering to the receiver.

  “If that’s what you feel you wanna do, then do it, Mr. Photographer.” Vance’s disinterested voice filtered through the loud speaker. “He ain’t shit to me.”

  His words were followed by a dial tone. Vance had disconnected the phone.

  “Shit, don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” RayRay started pleading for mercy the moment he realized it too. “Don’t kill me!”

  Nic smiled as he watched the shenanigans from the far side of the room. He wasn’t surprised that Vance had let his number two hang. In fact he’d counted on it for this part of their plan to be a success. Earlier in the day, Vance had handed him a file with a list of the locations and names of his connects and how much they could push. Darlene’s wasn’t on that list which meant Vance was still hiding something. But the gangster had made one major gaff; his financials were too clean, too professional.

  As a grade five drop out, the likelihood of Vance producing such hi-tech financials was remote at best. Unless he had an accountant! And where there was an accountant, there were not only lists of businesses premises but also account numbers. Access to that account would mean taking down Vance’s businesses and cleaning out his accounts too.

  RayRay was about to give them that accountant. He just didn’t know it yet.

  “Watchu you want? Watchu you want?” RayRay whimpered as actual tears began to fall from his eyes seeping into and below the blindfold. “Money? Money? I got some. I got some. I can give it all to you. Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me.”

  If they didn’t already know he was scared shitless, the sudden putrid smell of released urine would’ve informed them. A wet spot expanded quickly on the man’s groin and the liquid started dripping from his pants to the floor.

  Nic wrinkled his nose as he, Brett and Rafaél traded disgusted looks. They hadn’t even done anything to the man and he was already peeing himself? Who the hell was supposed to clean that up?

  Nic gave Rafaél the signal to continue with the next part of the plan then exited the room. As soon as he closed the door behind him, a loud bang sounded inside the room. The bang was closely followed by sounds of chaos; running feet, guns firing, bullets whizzing in the air, men screaming. Nic chuckled when he heard RayRay screaming right along with those men.

  He took the stairs down, ending up in the den as he waited for Rafaél and Brett to finish having their fun with RayRay. Five minutes later footsteps pounded down the stairs. Nic turned his gaze toward the hallway in time to see Rafaél and a still blindfolded RayRay dashing down the last of the stairs. They scrambled into the foyer with the sounds of gunshots following them.

  Rafaél shouted, “Duck.”

  RayRay dived to the carpeted floor like a pro. With a grin, Rafaél picked him from the floor and rushed him out of the door. The sound of a car being revved followed their exit then the peeling away of tires. Nic shook his head in amusement as he reached for the remote control and turned on the TV.

  “I gotta get myself one of these.” Brett appeared at the doorway tossing a black device that looked like a mini game controller. “Nifty little things.”

  He pressed a button and sudden gunshots echoed in the room. When he pushed another button, the sound of men screaming, grunting and moaning filled the room. It sounded so real, it was easy to think that men were actually dying in the room.

  Brett laughed as he inspecte
d the gadget. “Seriously, Gavilan, you need to hook me up with one of these toys.”

  Nic gave his former commander a shrug and said, “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll think about it?” Brett shot him an incredulous look. “I came out of retirement for your ass. You better think quick.”

  “Don’t act like you weren’t begging to get something to do with your free-time, fattie.”

  “Fattie!” Brett’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Don’t fuck with me, Boy. I will shoot you.”

  “Do you even remember how to do that?” Nic taunted.

  “I was taking down terrorists before your disrespectful ass was out of diapers,” Brett retorted. “Keep talking shit and you’ll be next.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  The two men teased and taunted each other as they waited for Rafaél to circle back to the one-story house. Rather than take RayRay to some other abandoned house, Nic had chosen to use one of his father’s still lavish but lesser used properties. With only one couple taking care of its maintenance, the mansion was practically deserted and perfect for their purposes.

  Its perfection was proved when the ‘rescued’ RayRay walked back in without his blindfold. His mouth practically fell open as his goggle-eyes skipped over the lavish living room and its posh furnishings. “Shiiiiiit.”

  “RayRay.”Nic inclined his head in welcome. “I see my man got you out of harm’s way.”

  “Ooowe, this nigga saved me.” RayRay plopped down on the corner couch as he gestured towards Diego who now stood at the door. “He saved me.”

  Nic mentally cringed as his glanced at the still prominent pee-stain on RayRay’s pants. The poor Hussars would come back from their impromptu trip to Aruba and wonder what nonsense their boss had been up to on the stinking couch. His outward expression didn’t show his revulsion. He stood up and headed to the bar. When he came back, he had a drink for RayRay. “I’m sure you need this.”