Operation Midnight

by Sharon C. Cooper

While riding, they discussed their wedding plans and the guest list, and Wiz told her that he had made the final arrangements for their honeymoon in Figi. Considering the stress of the last few weeks, he was glad to see her excited about their plans.

  “I’m looking forward to this break from school.”

  “Speaking of school, I heard you have an admirer.”

  Shaking her head, she smirked at him. “Let me guess, Travis. Does that man notice everything?”

  “Pretty much, but that’s his job. So tell me about this guy. Does he have a name?”

  “Why? So you can do a background check on him?” She pursed her lips, turning more to face him.

  “Well, yeah. Some rough looking brotha shows an interest in my woman, more than once, I want to know who he is.”

  Olivia puffed out a breath. “He’s Amanda’s brother, but I can’t remember his name. And you have nothing to worry about. I’m not interested in youngins when I’m about to marry a real man.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  Wiz chuckled. “That’s good to know. I would hate to have to hunt him down and whoop his ass.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her brows drawn together. “You really have to stop hanging out with Malik. You’re starting to sound more and more like him.” They both laughed.

  “So what is it about this kid that makes you uncomfortable? Has he said or done anything to you?”

  “No. It’s the way he looks at me that kinda weirds me out. The first time, he acted as if he was trying to figure out where he knew me from, but today was different. Today he glared almost menacing like. Maybe it was because Amanda wasn’t ready to leave.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not that serious.”

  Wiz didn’t respond, but for him, this was serious. Not just because she had caught this guy’s attention, but also because too much had happened recently for him not to take everything seriously.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled onto the street where the bakery was located. Unable to find a parking spot right in front of the building, Wiz parked a half a block up. He hurried around the car to the passenger side and opened the door for Olivia. Staying close, his gaze swept the area from the park cars to neighboring businesses.

  Olivia slowed when they reached the door. “You’re really uptight. Did something happen?”

  God. He and Malik really should hire her for one of their security details considering how perceptive she was.

  “Everything’s fine,” he said instead of telling her that a sense of foreboding was churning in his gut.

  Anxious to get her inside, he placed his hand at the small of her back and opened the door. They stepped into the well-lit hallway. There were stairs going up and a long hall in front of them. The bakery was through the door on the right.

  “Come on, let’s go in and get this over with,” he mumbled.

  Olivia pulled up short, her arms folded across her chest. “We’re not going in if you’re going to act like this. I’ve only asked two things of you regarding the wedding. Get fitted for a tux and help me decide on a cake for the reception. I can’t believe you’re grumbling about doing this.”

  Wiz glanced over his shoulder. The all glass door was making him uneasy, but she was right. He honestly didn’t see the point of cake tasting.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the lips. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You haven’t asked much of me and I know how important this is to you.”

  “This should be important to you, too. This is the last time we’re getting married and I want it to be memorable and special.”

  “Sweetheart, as long as you’re there, it will be special.” He slipped a finger under her chin and lifted, forcing her eyes to meet his. “I won’t say anything else negative. Let’s go in here and eat some cake.”

  A slow smile tilted the corner of her mouth. “Okay, and if you cooperate without complaining, then I have a surprise for you after we leave here.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “Oh really? And what would that be?” He actually didn’t care what she had planned, he loved her surprises. The last one had been a few weeks ago when she called him to their bedroom. He had strolled into the room, the lights were dimmed, a roaring fire in the fireplace, and she was posing in the bathroom doorway. He still had fantasies about her wearing that killer dominatrix outfit with the thigh high boots. That memory alone had him wishing they were home right now.

  “Let’s just say, you’re going to be blown away,” Olivia said, a sly smile spread across her tempting lips.

  “Well all right, woman. Let’s get in here. We don’t want to keep the baker waiting.”

  Olivia laughed as they stepped inside the bakery, but Wiz stayed vigilant. The wall of glass windows didn’t offer much protection, but he would just have to keep his wife happy while keeping an eye outside.

  “You’re doing it again,” Olivia whispered.

  “What?”

  “Acting like something is wrong. I know you, Cameron. If we’re not safe, we can just reschedule.”

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Maybe it’s nothing. He didn’t want to pull her out of here if there was no threat, and so far, all seemed fine. But his gut rarely lied.

  “No, let’s do this. Besides, I don’t want you trying to back out of giving me my surprise.”

  She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. “Yeah, you really want to experience this surprise.”

  “Hello. May I help you?” the lady behind the counter asked, her raspy voice sounding as if she were a pack a day smoker.

  Olivia stepped forward. “Hi, we’re the Millers and we have an appointment for a tasting.”

  “Oh yes. Let me get Edna.”

  Moments later, an older woman with short gray hair, smooth mocha skin, and a pleasant smile came from the back.

  “Hi. I’m Edna. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. I’m Olivia and this is my fiancé, Cameron.”

  Wiz hadn’t ever heard her refer to him as her fiancé. For him, she was his wife and that’s how he introduced her. He guessed it would be weird to introduce him the same way considering they were there to pick out a cake for their wedding reception.

  “I’ve been expecting you. If you’ll step over here to the bar, we can get started.”

  They walked past a large, glass display case. Wiz wasn’t really a sweet eater, but he had to admit the cakes, cupcakes, and cookies on display looked impressive.

  “Thanks again for your willingness to stay open a little later for us. I appreciate your flexibility,” Olivia said.

  “It’s my pleasure. Your big day is coming up quick. You must be getting pretty excited.” The baker and Olivia discussed the plans for the reception.

  Wiz gave a quick glance at the windows again. It gave him some comfort that he and Olivia weren’t sitting directly in front of the glass.

  He waited until she sat on one of the bar stools and he slid onto the one next to her.

  Edna set a tray on the low counter in front of them that held small bite-sized cake in three short rows. Next to the tray, she placed two small slips of paper with four lines of cake flavors, a box to check in front of each one. Wiz was surprised at how formal the process was. He had expected to come in, get handed a few bites of cakes to taste, and then pick one. So far, it seemed the process would be a little more involved.

  Edna pointed to the two small pieces of cake on the left side of the tray. “Okay, here we have the yellow cake with raspberry filling and buttercream between the layers and on top. These two are traditional flavors, with a cream cheese frosting.” She identified another flavor, and by the time she was done describing each one, Wiz was ready to get started with the tasting.

  “I like the second one the best. The one with the strawberries in between the layers,” Wiz said after they had tried all the samples. Turned out the experience wasn’t as painful as he had originally thought. “What about you, babe?”

  “I agree. The second one. They all were amazing, but that one reminded me of strawber
ry shortcake.”

  Wiz’s phone chirped with a text message. Five minutes earlier, it had vibrated in his pocket, but he had ignored the call.

  “Excuse me for a minute. I need to take this.”

  He glanced at his cell.

  911

  Speed dialing Malik, Wiz stepped out into the hallway.

  “You’ll never guess who the hell Midnight’s fiancé is,” Malik said by way of a greeting.

  “Who?”

  “Dwight “Bishop” Watson, leader of the Cidal Boyz.”

  Shit.

  Wiz’s mind immediately went back to Travis’ text. There was no way the mention of the Cidal Boyz twice in one night was a coincidence, especially since he didn’t believe in coincidences. This was one of the largest gangs in the country with a presence in not only New York and Detroit, but also Chicago.

  Standing in the hallway talking to Malik on the phone, Wiz reached under his pant leg and removed the Sig Sauer P227 from his ankle holster. He placed the gun in the back of his waistband, beneath his jacket. When Keisha mentioned her fiancé’s name, Wiz hadn’t put it together that she was with Bishop. The guy was intelligent and rumored to have connections to organized crime.

  “What the hell is she involved in?” Wiz said more to himself than Malik, his gaze traveling to where Olivia sat on the bar stool still talking with the bakery owner. His mind drifted back to Keisha and everything he had gathered on her since her return.

  Diamonds.

  His oh-shit meter flew off the charts. He had been so distracted the last few weeks that he wasn’t thinking straight and hadn’t put anything together.

  “Talk to me, man. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking Keisha might have stolen diamonds from her fiancé.”

  Silence filled the phone line before Malik said, “And she’s on the run with him hot on her trail.”

  And she looks just like Olivia.

  *

  Wiz stepped back into the bakery, worried lines gracing his forehead. Olivia wasn’t sure who he’d been on the telephone with, but whatever was discussed, hadn’t been good.

  “Are we all set?” he asked.

  “Yep. We just need to pay the deposit and then we can leave.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The bakery owner went over everything she’d told Olivia and Wiz took care of the deposit. Olivia continued to watch him.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, shoving his wallet into his pocket.

  “Ready when you are, my dear.”

  With a hand at the small of her back, he led her to the door. He gave the hallway a cursory glance before escorting her out of the bakery. She knew him well enough to notice when he was on alert and right now, his movements mirrored those of the secret service guarding the President of the United States. When they reached the outside door, everything within her tightened, his trepidation seeped into her soul.

  “What’s wrong, Cameron?” She looped her arm through his as he peered through the glass door before they stepped out. She always felt safe in his presence, but when he was tense and closed mouth, she got a little nervous.

  The sun had set and the streetlights were on except for the one a few yards from the entrance, and one directly across from the bakery. Outside of that, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “You’re starting to scare me.” She stopped, her heart pounding faster than it probably should.

  “Nah, sweetie.” He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close and placing a kiss against her temple. “Just checking our surroundings. You know, force of habit.”

  She released the breath she’d been holding. “You would think I would be used to your obsessive behavior, but I guess I’m not.”

  He pushed the door open, the cold air slapping them in the face the moment they stepped outside. There weren’t many people on the street and the few that were, moved with purpose. No doubt to hurry and get out of the cold. Olivia was just glad it wasn’t snowing, but the bite of Jack Frost was real. In just the little while that they were in the bakery, the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees.

  “Cameron, if everything is okay, why are you acting so strange?” Olivia cast a worried gaze in his direction as they hurried down the street. “And don’t lie to me.”

  He chuckled, still very in tuned with their surroundings. “Would I lie to you?”

  “Yes, if you thought it was something that would worry me.”

  He gave a slight shrug. “True.”

  When it seemed he wouldn’t elaborate, she said, “So?”

  “So, I’m just being careful.” He continued glancing around, his hold on her even tighter. “Besides that, it’s cold out …” His words trailed off and she followed his gaze to a dark, four-door sedan creeping up the street behind them. The car moved slower and Wiz picked up speed. Granted the car’s dark windows and chrome rims were eye catching, yet she didn’t understand his fascination with the vehicle.

  “Cameron,” she said, practically jogging alongside of him to keep up as they headed toward his truck, weaving around a few people. “I understand you’re being careful, but this is getting ridicu—”

  “Gun! Get down!” he yelled.

  He pushed Olivia to the ground. Her arms shot out to help soften the impending fall and a sharp pain burst through her shoulder, another to her hip the moment she made contact with the concrete. Her head barely missed the pavement.

  Gunshots rang out.

  It was as if everything happened in slow motion. Wiz pulled the gun from behind his back and returned fire. Her screams mixed with the chaotic scene of others running for cover. Bullets pinging off nearby cars and buildings had her lifting her hands to cover her head.

  Barely able to breathe, Olivia struggled under Wiz’s weight as he kept her pinned to the ground. She couldn’t stop screaming.

  “Cameron!” she yelled when a window exploded behind them, sprinkling shards of glass on her head and face. Fear clawed through her body. Tears blurred her vision. She bucked against Wiz’s weight, unable to move or see anything.

  God, please help us.

  Suddenly Wiz grabbed her around the waist. “We have to move!” She barely heard him, screams and gunfire muffling his words. She quickly rose to her knees. When she tried to stand, her legs wobbled. He got beneath her armpit, and practically carried her until she got her footing. They ran crouched down, slowing periodically behind parked cars and trees.

  Bullets came more rapidly.

  Wiz stumbled and cursed under his breath, his grip loosening from around her. “We need to get to the truck,” he ground out, his breathing more ragged.

  He cursed again. This time dropping his arms from around her. “Run!” He pushed her toward the truck and returned fire as he ran behind her, ducking and dodging flying bullets.

  When he slowed, no longer returning fire, Olivia grabbed hold of the arm of his jacket and pulled him the rest of the way. They dropped down near the back wheel of his truck.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears.

  The shooter’s vehicle screeched away, but not before more shots rang out and one of the windows in Wiz’s truck shattered. He flinched at the sound, pulling her tighter against his body.

  “Ohmigod! Ohmigod!” Olivia cried, breathing hard, her body shaking. “We have to get out of here!”

  She half stood, but Wiz pulled her back down. “Sirens in the distance. They’re gone,” he panted, his voice strained. He turned slightly toward her, his hands framing her face. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a rush. His eyes went wide and she followed his gaze, seeing the blood on the front of her coat.

  “Oh damn. You’ve been hit!” He frantically clawed at her coat, trying to get it opened.

  “Baby, it’s not me,” she cried, pushing his hands away and pulling at his jacket the way he had just done to her. Besides being sore and feeling a sting on her shoulder and hip, she was shaken, but okay. But if this wasn’t her blood on her coat … Her heart stopped.


  Oh God. She sobbed, trying to keep it together as fear swirled inside of her, afraid of what she’d find under his jacket.

  His face paled and he stumbled back into a sitting position, seeming unable to control his moves.

  “I’m fine. I need …” He flinched when she started unzipping his jacket and cursed under his breath, his face twisted in pain. He pushed her hand away to keep her from unzipping the jacket farther, but he was too weak.

  “Cameron! You’re not fine, dammit! Stop fighting me.” She kept going. A gasp slipped through her lips. Blood covered his left side. Lots of blood. “Oh my God. This is bad.”

  She wanted to lift up his shirt, but her hands were shaking too bad.

  “Somebody help us! Call 911!” She heard the sirens, but he needed help now. More blood soaked one of his pants leg and he was so weak.

  “I … have to … to get you out of here. Not safe,” he struggled to say.

  “Don’t—”

  “Need my … phone.” He tried digging into his front pocket, but she stopped him, her hand covering his.

  “No, listen to me,” he ground out. The pain must have been getting worse. His breathing became more ragged with every word, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. “Need you to call Tree,” he said of Malik. “Tell him, Cidal … Boyz,” he breathed, unable to stop his body from tilting to the right.

  “Baby, please. Please don’t talk. Here,” she ripped off her coat, balling it up and dropping it on the ground, “lay down.”

  He didn’t argue and did what she said, which only made her more worried. She slid the coat under his head. Tears filled her eyes.

  “Don’t cry. I … I love you.”

  “I love you, too, but I need you to hold on.” Hearing the sirens nearby, she stood and waved them over before dropping back down to Wiz.

  He reached up to touch her face, but lowered his arm. “Tell Tree … need Ghost.”

  “And I need you. I need you to hold on.”

  “If anything happens to me, Tree … will … keep you safe.” His eyes drifted closed and his hand dropped to the ground.

  “Cameron? Oh God no, Cameron!” she screamed. “Please! Please don’t leave me! I need you. We need you. Our baby needs you!”