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A Gangster's Dream 2

Page 3

by Charmanie Saquea


  “Chrissy, give me a minute. I’ll be right back,” he spoke as he turned back around and faced Christina.

  Although she didn’t verbally say anything out of her mouth, the look she gave him spoke volumes. That didn’t matter to Carmelo, though. He wasn’t worried about her at that moment. He showed her how unfazed he was by ‘her look’ when he stood up and walked toward the table his Dream was occupying with her friends.

  “Excuse me Miss…” Carmelo caught himself before he allowed her name to slip out his mouth.

  He knew how weird the situation was and didn’t want to run her off before they even had the chance to get to know each other.

  Dream and the women she was with diverted their attention to him. At the moment, he was feeling like it was a bad idea to approach her. All the time he had spent thinking about her, and he couldn’t find the right words to say. Part of him thought he would never find that girl, while the other half longed for her and begged him not to give up on finding his Dream.

  To make light of the awkward silence, he decided to say a joke. “Did it hurt?” he asked.

  “Huh?” Dream said.

  Carmelo smirked. “You know, when you fell from heaven.”

  It was the corniest shit he had ever said to a chick, but he had to say something.

  Dream and her friends bust out in laughter. It happened again, that snort. He looked down at Dream and saw her blushing from embarrassment.

  “You don’t have to feel embarrassed around me Dream,” he said, not realizing he said her name until she inquired about it.

  “How do you know my name?”

  The clicking of heels could be heard briskly approaching forcing them all to turn toward the person in pursuit.

  “I know you didn’t leave me sitting there so you could come over here and flirt with another female. Carmelo, what type of shit are you on? You know what, don’t even explain yourself. Take me home,” Christina said while folding her arms across her chest.

  “Christina, it’s not even like that. I just needed to speak to Dream,” he allowed it to slip out again.

  “Oh, so this is the bitch that’s constantly on your mind. The one who name you continuously call me. Just fucking great,” she spat, forcing patrons to look in their direction.

  “I know you didn’t just call me a bitch. I don’t even know this man, so you can go ahead with all the hoorah. Call me out my name again. I assure you I won’t be this nice,” Dream said in a calm manor. She sucked her teeth then looked up at Carmelo in frustration. “Who are you? Like really, you come over here, interrupt my dinner with the lame joke, then your ratchet comes causing a scene. I don’t know you, do I?”

  “Nah, you don’t but…” Carmelo attempted to explain.

  “Carmelo, I want to go. Now!” Christina demanded.

  Melo looked from Dream to Christina, and back over at Dream. Part of him wanted to dismiss Chrissy, but he knew he didn’t have a valid explanation to tell Dream.

  “Sorry for interrupting your dinner,” Melo said to Dream and her friends before turning to head back to his table.

  It took everything in him to walk away from her, but he was leaving it up to fate. If it was meant for him and Dream to be in each other’s lives, they would run into each other again, and when they did, he didn’t plan on letting her go. He tossed a few hundred dollar bills on the table and headed for the door. Melo didn’t look back to see if Christina was following, but the clicking of her heels told him that she was.

  The entire ride back to Christina’s house, Melo cursed himself for just walking away from Dream like that. He would have rather to have exchanged contact info with her and hear Chrissy’s mouth about it later rather than leaving it up to chance that they would meet again. But, it was too late for that now. His chance had come and gone. Now it would be back to pretending to be content with Chrissy until he got who and what he truly wanted.

  “I really can’t believe you tonight, Carmelo,” Chrissy said, bringing him back from his thoughts of Dream.

  “Yo, can you save it? I hate when you think you know what’s going on when you don’t know shit. I wasn’t trying to fuck the girl. For real, I don’t even know why I’m about to sit here and explain this shit to you. How about we just drop it? I really don’t want to hear shit else about tonight,” Melo said.

  With one hand on the steering wheel, he reached forward and turned up the radio. Although Chrissy had taken his advice and didn’t open her mouth, he wanted to drown out her thoughts, the thoughts that he just knew she was still having. He couldn’t seem to get to her crib fast enough. All he wanted to do was drop her off and go home.

  Chapter Seven

  After the night that Melo had with Christina, then spending the rest of the night until the wee hours of the morning on a manhunt for Shondrell and his team, and coming up short, all Melo wanted to do was spend time with his favorite girl. He had been promising to take her driving since she had her junior license, so he decided that Saturday afternoon was the best time to do it. Their day was going good until his mom called and demanded that he brought Summer to see her. They ended up stopping for food at Applebee’s and heading to her place.

  “Thank God we made it one piece,” Carmelo joked once Summer pulled into the parking spot.

  “I told you I could drive, Uncle Melo,” she said, tossing him the keys and climbing out of the driver’s seat.

  “You decent. A few times I saw my life flash before my eyes,” he joked.

  “Oh, no you didn’t! Now we can discuss me getting a car, right?” Summer said, as she walked beside him.

  “It’s a thought,” he said while using his key to grant him and Summer access to his mother’s house.

  “Nana!” Summer shouted.

  “Little girl, if you don’t stop yelling. I’m right here in the living room.”

  Summer headed toward the living room, with Carmelo hot on her heels. When they walked in, she walked right over to her grandmother and wrapped her arms around her, not noticing the woman who was sitting directly across from her. Carmelo noticed though.

  “Fuck is she doing here?” he barked.

  “Carmelo, I know one thing for sure. You better watch your damn mouth in my house. I don’t care how grown you are,” his mom spat.

  “My bad ma… Summer, go upstairs,” he said while never taking his eyes off the unwanted visitor.

  Summer knew by the tone of her uncle’s voice that it was best for her to go do what she was told, so she did.

  “Alexandria, why are you here? More importantly, how ya’ll just spring this on us? Mom, you call me like bring Summer over so ya’ll can do this? Did you even run this by Cai?”

  “Not that I need either of ya’ll permission to do anything, but yes, I did speak to Caiden first, which is how I knew that Summer was with you. I understand how you feel, but she came around and want to know her daughter. That’s not the worst thing in the world, Carmelo. Let’s not point out the fact that you have no say in this at all. That’s just me being honest with you.”

  His mother’s words hurt more than he was willing to admit. Instead of responding or showing how her words affected him, he nodded and started toward the door. Carmelo thought back to his Dream and figured he might as well ask Alex the big question, and with the way he was feeling, he didn’t care that his mother was there.

  Slowly, Carmelo turned around to face Alexandria.

  “Yo Alex, is Summer my daughter? Or is there a possibility that she is mine?”

  Disregarding the gasp that escaped his mother’s lips and the shocked look on Alexandria’s face, he waited for an answer.

  “No, Carmelo,” Alexandria whispered.

  That’s all he needed to hear. Not that it changed anything, but knowing for sure was what he wanted. With that, he left.

  <><><><>

  Summer knew that she should have listened to what her uncle told her to do, but curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to know who the woman was that had gotten
her uncle so upset. She got that answer, and more. She thought she heard it all after hearing that the woman was her mother, but then Carmelo asked if he was her father. It bothered her that he even thought there was a possibility and never mentioned it to her, more than it bothered her that her mother had sex with both her father and uncle.

  It wasn’t until she heard the things that Alexandria told her grandmother once Carmelo left that she decided that she heard enough. Just as Summer turned on her heels to really go upstairs, her grandmother called out to her, stopping her dead in her tracks. She waited a few minutes before walking into the living room.

  “Yes, nana? Where did my uncle go?” she asked, pretending that she didn’t hear the entire showdown.

  “He left. Your father is on his way though. Well, he said that an hour ago when I spoke to him. But, listen Summer this is Alexandria… Your mother.”

  Although she already knew that from the conversation she was eavesdropping on, it didn’t make hearing it again any less hurtful or awkward. Summer felt how Carmelo felt. How did she decided to just pop up? However, out of respect for her grandmother, she was going to be cordial.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’m going to call Caiden to see what’s holding him up,” Summer’s grandmother said before excusing herself.

  There was an awkward silence before Summer decided to break the ice. She didn’t hold her tongue for the people who raised her, so she wasn’t going to start for a woman she didn’t even know.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Baby girl…”

  “Summer,” Summer corrected.

  “Summer, I really just wanted to meet you. Hopefully get to know you. I know none of that will happen overnight and I probably don’t even deserve the chance to have a relationship with you. But that’s not going to stop me from trying,” Alexandria explained.

  Summer wasn’t interested in anything that Alex had to say, but she pretended she was listening until her father decided to show his face. Once he did, she expressed that she was ready to go and told both Caiden and Alexandria that it would take time. She compromised with them by exchanging numbers with her mother, but she had no intention of becoming all buddy, buddy with her. Not in the least bit.

  Chapter Eight

  Buzz… Buzz…

  The faint sound of vibrations could be heard in the distance, causing Melo to stir in his sleep. His eyes fluttered open and off instinct, he glanced at the neon numbers on the cable box to check the time.

  “Fuck calling me at six in the morning?” he huffed out loud while reaching over to the nightstand for his phone.

  Before answering, he looked to see who it was.

  “Trip, somebody better be dying for you to be calling me this early, man,” Melo said.

  “I mean, boss, that could happen next. All I’m saying is I need you to get to my spot as soon as possible,” Trip declared.

  “How bad is it?” Melo asked, knowing that the issue had to concern money or product, or, worst case scenario, both.

  “Bad, man. Well, I don’t know. That depends if you gave the okay for this shit or whatever. I don’t know, but what I do know is that when shit hit the fan, it ain’t coming down on me. You can make it now? If not, I’m holding each and every one of these niggas here till you can. You know I don’t give a fuck,” Trip affirmed.

  “I know, I know. I’m heading up there now. Give me a minute to clean my balls and shit, nigga. Who up there?”

  “The terror squad and Shaq,” Trip answered.

  As soon as Carmelo heard Shaq’s name, he knew off the rip that it was he who had fucked up. Since there had been a rift between the two of them, Melo knew that it would only be a matter of time before Shaq fucked up royally. Had that day officially come?

  “Aight, I’ll be there in a minute man,” Melo said before ending the call.

  Without hesitation Carmelo climbed out the bed and headed straight to his bathroom. The first thing on his to-do list was taking his morning piss, then he got to his hygiene.

  <><><><>

  Less than two hours after receiving the call, Melo found himself pulling up to 40 projects out in Queens, where Trip ran one of the trap spots. It was easy finding parking since the working people had freed up a few spots. After parking, Carmelo maneuvered throughout the projects as if he was a resident until he came to the building that the apartment was in. He waited a few minutes for the elevator to arrive before taking it up to the sixth floor.

  Knock, Knock

  He did his two knock ritual on the apartment door and waited to be greeted.

  “What up, boss man?” Trip said as he opened the door.

  Carmelo and Trip dapped each other up before Trip stepped to the side, allowing Melo space to enter the apartment. Carmelo looked around at his early morning shift of workers and flashed a half smile. It was good to see that they were all punctual and getting to the money as usual, but he wasn’t there to give them praises. Somebody had fucked up and he was there to get to the bottom of it. He turned around and came face to face with Shaquille. Even though the two of them were at odds, he wasn’t going to share what his thoughts were on Shaq in front of the rest of the team. At the point Shaq was still second in command, and if he allowed niggas to see that the democracy was falling apart, niggas would take that and run with it. It was one thing to have minor disagreements with your team, but to allow low level niggas to see that there was bigger beef brewing amongst the ranks was a giant no-no.

  “Niggas got me down here bright and early and don’t even have some coffee brewing for me and shit,” Melo half-joked.

  Trip joined him in laughter. “Boss the only thing that brew in this spot is work. Niggas can’t even bring bottled water in here.”

  Melo nodded his head at Trip and slapped fives with him. Melo admired how Trip ran his ship, which is why he left him in charge of the operations in Queens. Trip had run with Melo’s team since he was a little nigga in high school. At that time, he did little shit like pick-ups and drop-offs. Melo promised that if he stayed focus on his books and shit, he would promote him when the time came. Trip graduated high school and went to one of the community colleges in the Bronx. He held up his end of the bargain, so Melo held his.

  “Aight, everyone in here all quiet in shit like somebody died, so I know it’s bad. What happened, Trip?” Melo asked, getting to the point of his visit.

  “Aight, this is the shit Melo. When a shipment changes, whether it be in product, amount or cost, I always get a heads up.”

  “Exactly. How else are you supposed to know how much work to expect and how much bread to dish out or how much you getting?” Melo said while nodding his head.

  “Aight, so today my work arrived and weighed half of what it’s supposed to be. As far as the money concerned, that shit don’t even equate to a quarter of what was told to me,” Trip announced.

  Hearing what Trip had just said had everyone in the room shook. What they didn’t know was the reason why Trip called Melo down there. All they knew was that something went wrong with the delivery. Trip had weighed the product and counted the money in the backroom without any of them knowing. He didn’t want whoever was responsible to leave because they were scared. He had to keep niggas there and anticipating what was going on until he got Melo down there. Melo, on the other hand, saw nothing but red. He played a lot of games but had zero tolerance when it came to his bread and his product.

  “Trip, I know you not telling me what I think I just heard,” Melo said as he started pacing the floor.

  “Boss, I ain’t going to bullshit you. I know you going to weigh the shit and count the paper yourself, so I made sure to triple back track to make sure I had shit right.”

  “Who was responsible for today’s delivery?”

  Trip’s head dropped because what he was about to say was the part that bothered him the most. “Shaq.”

  Without thinking, and pushing all his previous thoughts
about not allowing the team to see him and Shaq at each other’s throats to the side, Carmelo rushed Shaq, slamming him against the wall and wrapping his hands around his neck.

  “Fuck happened to my money and my product?” Melo barked before pulling Shaq closer and slamming him against the wall again.

  He loosened the grip he had on Shaq and took a step back. Knowing what time it was, he ducked just as Shaq through a left hook. Melo countered with a left of his own that connected with Shaq’s jaw. Shaq rushed Melo, knocking him down to the floor. Carmelo dragged him down along with him and the tussle continued. They went blow for blow, each delivering shots to other for a good ten minutes before Trip and the other dudes watching decided to pull them apart.

  “You really going to come at me on some bullshit like I would take from you, Melo? Type of fuck boy shit you on?” Shaq barked as he straightened out his clothes and caught his breath.

  Melo, on the other hand, wanted to go another round. The way he was feeling, he could have beaten the rest of his money and product out of Shaquille.

  “Fuck all that! I don’t give a fuck whether you took the shit or not. It’s missing. I was there when Nelson loaded my shit. I helped the nigga count those bricks. I was there when he sorted out my money. So somewhere between traveling with my shit and getting it here, something happened on your watch. You got two days, Shaq, two fucking days, to find me my money and my product,” Melo barked.

  “Or what?” Shaq countered.

  “You’ll see in 48 if you not calling or Trip not calling me to tell me shit is straight,” he said before turning on his heels and leaving the way he came in.

 

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