Chapter 2

Patricia returned to her silver Cadillac XLR parked in the underground car park of L.A. County General. She was reluctant to return home, scared for Malcolm and what he had got himself involved in. She knew she had to get to the bottom of things, and quickly. As she opened the driver's side, she then heard footsteps, and echoing that told her it was high heels, and she turned to be greeted by the sight of a woman in a grey rain mac. She was around her age, with short brown hair, carrying a notepad.

"Ms Willis, I presume?" she asked in a Deep South dialect.

"Who are you?"

"Samantha Reynolds - Los Angeles Tonight."

"Oh get the fuck out of my face. Haven't you vultures got enough?"

The reporter approached, and Patricia was quick to climb into the Cadillac.

"I'm not telling you shit, honey...so scram!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry if I startled you. I'm just doing my job. Have you visited with your Brother? We understand he hasn't been allowing visitors. We just want to get the story straight." the reporter continued.

"Get this straight, honey..." Patricia retorted as she fired up the engine, "He's just recovering from an accident. No agenda, no cover-up, he just got hurt, like anyone can be. Just because he's got a few business interests with people you reckon aren't entirely upstanding members of the community, doesn't mean he's some big time gangster. Just go and hassle someone else - I've had enough!"

The reporter looked stunned, but scribbled something down on her pad, before stepping away as the Cadillac pulled out from where it was parked.

"Nurse! I need to make a phone call." Malcolm announced as he saw the young nurse pass by the door. She stopped, carrying a tray of medicine.

"I'll be right back, Mr Willis." she replied, then walked on.

Malcolm sat feeling restless. He looked around the room that had become so familiar to him, and despised it like a prison cell, struggling with the thoughts racing through his head.

‘What was I doing here? I needed to call Marcus. I don't know what the man has in mind, but he's already left it too long. Why hasn't he called or sent somebody over? Then, what if he has, and I just refused them? God I sound fuckin' paranoid - but isn't that better, that I keep on my toes? How ironic, when I can barely walk.'

The nurse returned, and he stared at her and smiled. She had been a good friend over the last few weeks, his only friend. A mobile phone was raised and offered to him.

"Here, take this. It's mine, but I don't mind you using it. I shouldn't be doing this, but I think I can trust you not to say anything."

Malcolm took it from her, letting his fingers brush her hand as he did so. Of course he found her attractive. She seemed a little naïve, but the braces on her teeth just assured him that this was somebody he could respond to without hidden motives.

"Thank you Nina. Just give me a few minutes, yeah?" he replied.

The nurse grinned back like some lovesick school girl, and then hurried away, closing the door silently behind her as Malcolm switched the phone on and started pressing numbers.

The theme from ‘The Good, The Bad and The Ugly' began to play from a mobile phone lying on a shelf above the fireplace of a large, luxuriously decorated living room. At first it seemed the place was lifeless as the tune continued to play over and over. Then voices were heard, and a woman in her late twenties with cropped black hair, walked in wearing grey silk pajamas.

"Hello?" she said on answering the phone.

"Justine?"

"Yes? Who's this?"

"It's Malcolm. Is Marcus around?"

Justine had a pretty, somewhat Winona Ryder-like appearance that was at odds to what she did for a living. She was currently the hottest actress the adult film world had ever seen. She just also happened to be the wife of Marcus Donnelly.

"Er...God, it's been so long since I spoke to him last. Jeeze...are you alright now?"

"I guess you know the details. But yeah, I think I'm just about ready to find my bearings. Let me speak to Marcus, yeah?"

"Well that's just it. He's not here."

"What do you mean? He's out? Why didn't he take his phone? Is he at the club?"

"I don't know how to say this, Malcolm, but, well, he hasn't been seen since that night."

The line went silent. Justine frowned.

"Malcolm??"

Back at the hospital, Malcolm had lowered the phone to his side, looking mortified.
"Fucker." he whispered, repeating the word twice more with increased venom.
Then he grew aware of Justine saying his name. He returned the phone to his ear, and swallowed hard.

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

"All I know is that he hasn't called or said nothing. I know what was going on, I know what happened - Marcus and I don't have secrets. So when I read the tabloids saying you were in hospital, I naturally feared the worst." Justine replied.
"Have you made any phone calls yourself, tried to contact him?"

"Of course I have! I even tried to contact you, but your cell has been switched off, and you have been refusing visitors; not that I would have come in person."

Behind Justine, a black girl wearing a sarong and a bikini top walked in, her skin glistening and her hair dripping wet.

"Who is it, Jus'...?" she asked.

Justine raised her hand to silence her as she continued to speak, "I know how it looks. But he wouldn't have run out on you. You were friends. He never runs out on a mate. What did he say last time you talked?"

Malcolm sighed.

"He said he'd be in contact. Yet I'm ready to leave. He's gone. How do you think this makes me feel?"

Justine's voice replied, "I understand. I'll see what I can do my end. But trust me, I know Marcus. He'll have a plan. Don't worry."

"Easier said than done. If you hear anything, tell him..." he paused, feeling both frustrated and scared, "tell him I've left the hospital. He'll have to wait for me to call him."

"Ok Malcolm. I hear you, and I understand. Speak to you soon." Justine replied as the black girl came behind and wrapped her in a gentle embrace.

She ended the call and turned to look the girl in the eyes.

"Bad news?" the girl asked.

"I gotta make a phone call. Go and take a shower. I'll need to take this alone." Justine replied, and the girl smiled, laying a kiss to her cheek.

Malcolm sat silently with the mobile at his side. Then knuckles rasped the door, and he looked over to see the nurse peer in.

"Sorry, I just thought I had best let you know. Dr Rollins is coming up the corridor. If he was to discover I'd borrowed you my cell, we'd both be in trouble."

He forced a smile, "It's alright, Nina - here, take it back."

The nurse approached and he noticed that the top few buttons of her uniform were undone. He frowned. She looked down at herself self consciously.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know what to say. I wanted an excuse to come back in, while we were alone."

"Excuse me?"

The nurse came and climbed onto the bed, the hem of her uniform hitching up to expose her thigh, and she leaned forward to reveal the ripe valley between her breasts.

"If we're quick, nobody will know."

Malcolm was shocked, "Hey, no, hang on..."

"You're on the mend; you'll be leaving here soon. There won't be another chance like this."

"Nina. Stop it..." Malcolm gasped and then grabbed her by both arms, stopping her just short of kissing him.

"You have to help me!" he added sternly.

Her eyes were wide, revealing the child-like innocence he had grown to appreciate, "How can I help you? What do you mean?"

Malcolm glanced to the door, still slightly ajar.

"Get me a chair, some clothes. I have to leave this place...now!"

Nina sat back on her haunches, "I don't understand."

"You will." he replied.