Taxi (Take It Off #11)

by Cambria Hebert

  “You know what call I’m talking about.” The level, smug way his eyes trained on mine made it hard to breathe.

  “It wasn’t a fake.”

  Behind me, Rose shifted as she listened aptly.

  “It was.” Boss Man promised. “Know how I know?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  He pulled a cellphone out of his dress pants and held it up. After a couple taps on the screen, some audio played through the room.

  Dr. Kelley, this is Stacey from the national donor registry list.

  I sucked in a breath, listening intently. It couldn’t be.

  Yes? my voice replied.

  We’re calling to let you know we have matched an organ for one of your patients. It will be ready for transport tomorrow and only take a few hours to arrive at your hospital.

  Which patient? The hopeful tone in my voice felt like a branding iron. I still remembered that moment. I still remembered the way I’d looked up at the sky and prayed to God my nephew’s name was spoken.

  Rocco Kelley.

  The recording clicked off, and the man with white hair looked up. “It’s amazing what a drama student at the college will do for a quick couple hundred bucks.”

  The force of my anger propelled me forward. I lunged for him, so fucking pissed off I saw dots before my eyes.

  He whipped out the pistol and held it out like it would stop me. I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so intent on my prize.

  I knocked the gun out of his hand faster than he expected and bulldozed into him as it went clattering across the floor and slid beneath some equipment.

  “Backup!” he hollered as we both smacked into the floor.

  I reared my fist back and slammed it into his face. Then I did it again. Blood spurted across his face and peppered my knuckles, and the red was like a flag to a bull.

  Instead of punching him again, I hauled the chain up and slipped it beneath his head so I could wrap it around his neck.

  The cold nose of a gun pressed against my temple.

  I paused and looked up. Taxi Man was standing there, his face flushed. “Get up.”

  I squeezed the chain tight. The man beneath me gasped.

  “Go ahead and shoot me,” I growled.

  He shuffled beside me, clearly not prepared for this. Still, he hesitated in harming me. Was I really that goddamn important? Couldn’t they just cut out her organs themselves?

  “Ro-c-co,” he wheezed.

  My grip loosened at the mention of my nephew. “Don’t say his name!” I raged, clenching the chain once more.

  “If you kill him, your nephew is as good as dead,” Taxi Man said.

  With a shout, I let go and pushed up off the man. I wanted to kill him, but first, I wanted to know everything.

  “How do you know about him?” I yelled. The rise and fall of my chest was rapid. My heart no longer pumped slowly but galloped beneath my ribs like a race horse.

  “You think I wouldn’t do my homework before a million-dollar job?” the boss rasped, getting up off the floor while holding his neck.

  “A million dollars?” Rose gasped.

  I was ashamed to say I’d forgotten she was there.

  “Job of a lifetime,” Taxi Man drawled.

  Rose’s voice was bewildered. “There’s no way one of my organs would get that much.”

  “No, but all of them would fetch enough to set me up for the rest of my life.” His voice was strained from being choked.

  Rose gasped again. I glanced at where she stood, not where she’d been, but on the other side of the table. Her face was whiter than a sheet of paper, almost translucent. Her eyes looked unnaturally large in her face, and her red hair was wild around her shoulders.

  She finally understood completely. It wasn’t just one organ they wanted.

  These motherfuckers wanted me to literally carve out her entire body. The only reason they hadn’t killed her immediately was because the organs would only be viable for so long. This way, I could cut them all out and they could transport them immediately.

  After they killed me of course.

  “Do it, and we’ll give you a kidney. Your pick of either of hers. You can take it to the hospital right after you’re done. Hell, I’ll drive you there myself.”

  They were trying to use Rocco to make me do it.

  His life in exchange for hers.

  “I don’t trust you,” I growled. “There’s no way in hell you’ll let me live.”

  “No reason not to let you live.” He shrugged.

  I glanced over at Rose.

  As I stared at her, I was taunted.

  “Take the kidney. Go save your nephew. He’s ten. He’s got a whole life in front of him. If you do this, he’ll have that life. By the time you get out of surgery, I’ll be long gone. It won’t matter if you go to the police, because they’ll never find me.”

  “We’ll be long gone.” Taxi Man corrected.

  My eyes shifted away from Rose and then back to her face. I looked away abruptly. “She’s not a match. Her kidney won’t save him.”

  “But it will. She’s AB negative.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  Rose did, too. “How do you know my blood type?”

  “Research.”

  I glanced back. “You’re AB negative?” I couldn’t help the gravelly way I said it. Rocco was the rarest blood type there was. Matching him with a kidney was even harder because of it.

  “Y-yes,” Rose stuttered.

  Her kidney might actually save him.

  Rocco’s cure was right here in front of me.

  I felt my insides wavering.

  That line I was talking about? The one between desperation and obsession?

  I was very, very close to that line.

  “So is he,” I intoned.

  Rose took a step back, like she felt the inner tug-of-war going on inside me.

  “She’s just a girl,” Taxi Man said. “She’s disposable. You get what you want and so do we. Everyone gets their happy ending.”

  “I don’t!” Rose burst out.

  We stared at each other for long moments.

  Rocco’s face flashed behind my eyes.

  I glanced away from her, then back again.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her. The hollowness in my words made tears fill her eyes.

  I took a step forward.

  15

  Rose

  Be careful who you trust.

  One lapse in judgement may carry a hefty price tag.

  16

  Derek

  The stainless steel table was cold beneath my clammy hands. Instead of shocking me, it worked as an anchor, grounding me to my decision.

  “Get the gun!” I roared. Using all the pissed-off emotion filling my limbs, I manhandled the table around. It was on wheels, which only helped me propel it with even more force.

  Rose sprang into action, and the two men standing nearby were completely caught off guard.

  The table swung into them, knocking them down like bowling pins after a lucky strike. The sound they made when the steel connected with their bodies was a sound I enjoyed. At first, they skittered along, trying desperately not to go down, but I was unrelenting.

  Rushing them with the table between us, I didn’t stop shoving until it hit the wall with a great crash and they sprawled across the floor.

  When I mowed into Taxi Man, he lost his grip on the rifle, and it clattered to the floor. I picked it up and aimed it at them, glancing over my shoulder to Rose. She was half under the equipment, trying to reach the weapon.

  “Hurry!” I called.

  The men stirred. Taxi Man rolled out from under the table. A couple of the buttons on his shirt popped and some wiry chest hair and skin was showing.

  It was gross.

  It was also a shame. Too bad he didn’t have half the hair on his chest on his head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I muttered, totally prepared to shoot.

  “You just si
gned your nephew’s death certificate.”

  Nausea rolled over me. How could it not? They made it out like a choice. I guess in a lot of ways, I did have one.

  Was I choosing wrong?

  What if Rocco never got that call? What if he would never find a match?

  Would I someday stand at his grave and regret the choice I’d made?

  Don’t think like that.

  Rose rushed to my side, the gun in her unsteady hands.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She gave me a look that made me feel stupid for asking.

  Taxi Man stood. Rose recoiled.

  It was definitely the chest hair.

  Nasty.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I warned, my gun unwavering. “Throw the keys over here,” I demanded.

  “I don’t have them.” He lied.

  I shot him in the foot.

  He fell back onto the floor, screaming like the little bitch he was.

  “The goddamn keys!” I roared.

  Sweat dripped between my shoulder blades. What was left of my torn shirt clung to my skin and made me uncomfortable.

  A single key on a silver ring landed at my feet.

  Rose bent to pick it up while I kept my eyes on the men. The brains of the operation was unconscious. He’d taken the brunt of the hit.

  But even passed out, I didn’t trust him. He could be faking.

  I spared a single glance at Rose. She stared between me and the key. I saw doubt in her eyes again.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, fairy.” I used the nickname on purpose, trying to remind her how much I really did care.

  Do I care about her more than Rocco?

  No.

  But as I previously pointed out, I didn’t have a God complex. I had no right to decide who lived and died. I wouldn’t choose between Rocco and Rose. It wasn’t up to me.

  And I wasn’t under any circumstances going to be blackmailed into illegally removing someone’s organs.

  Rose jammed the gun in the waistband of her skirt.

  “Careful.” I cautioned. “We don’t have time to fix another bullet wound.”

  Her hands noticeably shook as she fumbled with the key. The gun was still trained on the kidnappers, so she had to stretch around and press close to reach the lock on the cuff at my wrist.

  I felt the key slide into the lock, and I heard the mechanism click.

  I glanced down as the cuff popped open.

  Rose grinned, a spark of hope lighting her green eyes.

  I shouldn’t have glanced away. Not even for the split second I did.

  Taxi Man burst up off the ground, half falling, half leaping at Rose. He was going for the gun.

  Without a second thought, I pulled my trigger. The deafening sound of the rifle going off at close range bounced off the metal walls all around us.

  The bullet hit its mark, slammed into his chest and knocking him back. Red bloomed out across the white shirt he wore, the fabric soaking it up like a sponge.

  He made one sound, a single gurgle, and then fell back onto the concrete, dead.

  The second I shot, I wrapped an arm around Rose and pulled her into my chest. She buried her face there, both hands pressing against her ears.

  Once the man was down, I pulled her back. “Let’s go.”

  She started to turn, to look at the body.

  “Don’t look.” I ordered and pulled her back.

  I would live with the sight of him lying there bleeding out, but she didn’t have to.

  I half carried her out of the silo. All she could do was hobble at best.

  Several yards away, the taxi we were both kidnapped in was parked in the grass. I had no desire to ever get into another damn cab again, but now really wasn’t the time to be picky.

  “C’mon,” I said, guiding her toward it.

  “The keys!” she cried and turned back.

  “Fuck the keys,” I growled. “I’ll hotwire it.”

  We didn’t have time to go back. The other man could wake at any moment. He didn’t have a gun, but he could still put up a fight.

  He wanted his money. He wouldn’t just let us go.

  As if my thoughts conjured him up, someone shouted behind us. “Hey!”

  I let go of Rose, spun on my heel, and squeezed off a shot.

  It hit him in the side. I’d been aiming for the chest, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  With a cry, he slumped onto the ground, screaming.

  “Get in!” I yelled unnecessarily once the cab was within reach.

  I made it into the driver’s seat before Rose got in and bent to hotwire the cab. But the keys were hanging in the ignition.

  Dumb criminals.

  God’s gift to victims.

  Rose collapsed into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life. I tore across the grass before her door was even closed. In the rearview mirror, I saw the boss struggling to his feet. I pressed on the gas and drove ahead.

  “I really, really hate cabs,” Rose muttered.

  I glanced at her and smiled. “You and me both.”

  17

  Rose

  When you walk (well, are carried) into an ER where the man doing the carrying is a well-liked surgeon, you don’t have to sit in the waiting room. You don’t even have to fill out the half ton of forms they give you strapped to the top of a clipboard. Although, I’m sure those would come later.

  Derek drove the kidnapper mobile, aka the taxi, right up to the entrance of the ER and left it there. I tried to bring my gun inside with me.

  Apparently, that might get me shot.

  I’d already had enough of that.

  So after Derek pried the deadly weapon (which he said made me look like a terrorist) out of my hands, he swung me up into his arms and tightly against his chest.

  It felt too good to argue. I didn’t even bother. All I did was lay my cheek against his chest and close my eyes. I tried to block out all my thoughts and focus on the fact we were safe.

  Safe.

  Something I would never take for granted again.

  “Oh my God! Dr. Kelley?” A woman gasped only seconds after the doors whooshed closed behind us.

  “We need a private exam room. And the police,” he said.

  Everything happened fast after that.

  I was placed on a hospital bed as nurses bustled around, clucking their tongues and firing questions like they were the police and not the caregivers.

  Derek put up with it for about five minutes, then tasked them with different jobs to get them out of the room.

  The second they were gone, I slumped into the bed.

  He’d been pacing nearby and came over to me. I scooched over, making room, and he sat on the mattress without a word.

  “You’re safe now,” he murmured, brushing the hair from my face.

  “Thanks to you.” The horrible scene we’d just run from played back in my mind. The split second of mind-numbing fear I’d had when I thought he’d turned against me was in the forefront.

  “The nurses will take care of you, fairy. One should be back any second.”

  “You need to go be with Rocco,” I said, not upset he had to go, but maybe a little sad he wouldn’t be beside me.

  “Hopefully, the surgery started already, but I can at least go be there.” His leg bounced with nervous energy. And something else… something I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “Go,” I urged.

  Before he did, he swooped in. His lips captured mine in a searing kiss. A kiss from Derek did more for me than medicine or an IV ever would. My lips parted with a sigh, and his tongue stroked in. Deeply he delved into my mouth, and I welcomed him wholeheartedly.

  Warmth spread throughout my body as our mouths danced together in a rhythm only they knew.

  Before pulling away, he kissed my lips with one last soft kiss, then pressed another to the tip of my nose. “I’ll find you later.”

  I nodded.

  On his way out, the nurse came i
n.

  “I’m going up to sit in on Rocco’s surgery,” he told her, catching the door before it could swing closed.

  “Rocco’s in surgery?” The nurse seemed puzzled.

  “You didn’t hear?” Derek asked. He looked exhausted, like he’d been run over with a car. The T-shirt he wore was ripped and stained with blood. His sweatpants were dirty and his hair was a disaster. Frankly, I wondered how he was still standing so tall.

  “No,” she replied, her brow furrowing.

  His eyes slid to me, and the anxious energy I’d felt off him before returned. “Tell the police I’ll talk to them as soon as the surgery is over.”

  “Of course.” The nurse agreed, although he was already gone.

  Her eyes turned to me, appraising me with a motherly stare. “Let’s get you cleaned up and some fluids going. You’re being admitted, so we’ll move you to a different floor soon.”

  “Thank you,” I said, exhaustion really weighing me down now. My eyes felt as though there was sand in them, and my limbs each felt like they weighed a hundred pounds.

  She bustled around and stuck an IV into the back of my hand.

  “How long do kidney transplant surgeries normally take?” I asked her.

  “Hours,” she replied with a frown.

  “What is it?”

  “No one has said a word about that boy’s surgery. The entire staff loves him so much. I should have heard about it before now.”

  “Well, it did happen very fast.” I hedged. My stomach twisted.

  She nodded but didn’t look convinced. “I’ll go hurry along your room and the doctor so you can get some rest.”

  When she was gone, I remembered what the kidnappers said. I remembered the audio that filled the room and devastated Derek.

  The call about the organ match had been a fake. A ploy to force him into cutting me open.

  I tended not to believe kidnappers. They did try to kill me after all. Rather, they tried to get Derek to kill me.

  They were lying. Derek seemed to think so, too, by the way he rushed out of here.

  But… what if they weren’t?

  18

  Derek

  I killed a man today.

  Maybe even two.