Goodfellas

by Carl Weber

  “I miss you so much, Mama,” Faye said and made to get up from the bed, but something on the birth certificate caught her eyes.

  She’d never known the names of her birth parents, and Chrishelle always told her that she didn’t know either. But Faye realized then that her mother, who she thought never told a lie, had lied to her. She was looking at the full name of her mother and the full name of her father.

  “Taylor Elayne Vincent,” she read her mother’s name out loud, and then her father’s. “Greyson Vinc—”

  She gasped and dropped the paper. She hopped up from the bed and swallowed the thick lump that had formed in her throat. Greyson Vincent? The Greyson Vincent? Owner of half-a-dozen businesses in New York? However, everyone who was down knew that those businesses were used to wash a different kind of business.

  “New York’s kingpin?” Faye said to herself. “No. It can’t be.”

  She rummaged through the papers on the bed, trying to get a better understanding on why her mother even had it out. There was a piece of notebook paper in the mix. It had her mother’s chicken scratch scribble all over it. There was an address, the same one as the nightclub that she was found outside of. There was also a phone number.

  There was an envelope underneath that piece of paper. When Faye opened it, she found a letter inside. On top of the letter, there was a printer sheet that showed Faye that the one in the envelope must have been the copy of the original.

  Dear Greyson,

  As you know, I have been caring for your child since she was ten years old. You know, the child that you threw to the side as if she was nothing? The third child that nobody knows about. I’m sure there are many blogs and magazines that would love to get their hands on a story about how their dear Mr. Vincent left his child for dead in an orphanage when he had more than enough means to take care of her. What kind of dent would that put in your pockets, huh? But for a price, I am willing to keep my mouth shut. I want $5 million. Faye, who you know as Regret, is a good woman. She is smart, beautiful, and compassionate. She has deserved much more than what life has thrown her way. The least that you can do as her father is give her a decent future, and you will never have to hear from us again. My number is at the bottom of this letter. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.

  After reading the letter, Faye snatched the birth certificate up from off of the ground and ran back to her room where her computer was. She pulled up his profile and matched his date of birth to the one on her birth certificate.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “It is true. Greyson Vincent is my father.”

  She kept digging and found out that he had two sons in line to take over the family businesses after him. Kayden and Jayden Vincent. They were twenty-five years old, like her. At first, Faye thought that Greyson must have been stepping out on his wife, but that was until she saw pictures of the twins next to their birthdate. They were the spitting image of her, except they were boys, and, unless the Internet was wrong, they all shared the same birthdate. Suddenly, Faye’s stomach felt as if it was about to reject the burger and fries she’d eaten earlier. The boys weren’t twins . . . They were all triplets!

  She had so many questions running through her head at that moment, but the main one was how long had her mother known about it all? And if her mother had known about Greyson’s deep dark secret and was trying to extort money from him, then . . .

  “Oh my God,” Faye said again, scooting away from her computer desk.

  Her mother hadn’t gotten “mugged,” like the police wanted her to believe. She was murdered.

  Chapter 4

  Jayden

  This nigga is always on some bullshit, Jayden thought to himself as he blew a cloud of smoke out the window.

  Whenever he was distressed about something, Granddaddy Purp always helped him ease his mind. Usually, it had a lasting effect; in this situation, it only helped numb the pain. He and Kayden had grown up with a father that had pretty much told them that it wasn’t manly to have feelings. About anything. So he tried to mask the hurt with a high that was hard to come down from.

  It had been a few weeks since the incident at Treasure’s place, but he still hadn’t completely gotten over it. Although he had many women on his roster, Treasure had been a special one to him. She was different than the rest of the women he’d come across. Someone that he wouldn’t want to share with any other man while he had her. His hand tightened around the black steering wheel of his silver 2017 SL Benz as the images of Treasure’s naked body intertwined in her sheets plagued his mind, shortly after the fresh memory of her cries in his ears when he broke the news that he didn’t want anything else to do with her entered his head.

  “Jayden, please don’t leave me,” she’d said. “I love you, baby. You know I don’t want anyone else.”

  “It’s fucked up, but I can’t look at you the same anymore. Knowing that my brother—”

  “He tricked me!”

  “I know, but just knowing that he has experienced a part of you that I wouldn’t want to share with any man . . . It’s just too much, Treasure.”

  “So why not cut him off? Why are you trying to leave me, Jayden? We can work it out, baby. We can make it past this!”

  “Look, Treasure, I can’t just cut my brother off. I will handle him in my own way. But just know that if it’s a choice between you and him, I gotta rock with him.”

  “Even though he went behind your back and fucked your girl?”

  “You were never my girl. I cared about you, though. But that’s not enough to fuck up my money flow.”

  “You bastard. I hate you!”

  “Yea,” Jayden had said right before he disconnected the call. “Join the club.”

  That conversation had taken place minutes after he opened his eyes this morning. He knew that his words probably cut her deeper than he’d intended, but he had no choice. She had to get cut off. She wasn’t the only fish in the sea, and eventually, he would get back at his brother, but for right then, he needed to clear his head and keep his eyes on the money. Anything that could detour him from what mattered the most had to get eliminated. Treasure was a big distraction, and in a way, Kayden had been right when he told him he was acting like a bitch behind a bitch. Still, Kayden needed to be put in his place.

  Jayden slowed his Benz down in front of the cobblestone building in Bed-Stuy that his brother had said to meet him at. He leaned down so that he could peek outside of the passenger window and couldn’t help but to wonder what his brother was doing in a place like that. Sitting on the wide porch steps outside of the building was a woman who couldn’t have been older than twenty-one and two young toddlers. She had a scarf over her long feed in braids and, even though bare-faced, was very pretty. Although she was dressed casually in a pair of sweats and a coat over a long sleeved shirt, her sons were dressed like it was Easter Sunday. Their jeans were freshly ironed, and both had on Ralph Lauren winter coats over red Ralph Lauren sweaters. On their feet, they had matching red Tims. They played and laughed together while their mother was on the phone, loudly cussing out whoever was on the other end.

  “Bitch-ass nigga! You laid up with a ho but can’t run me the money to get Jaymar the money for his prescription? He needs his inhaler, Damien!”

  Jayden heard her yells get louder when he got out of his vehicle and locked the doors. He didn’t look like a man that should even be in that part of town. He was in Gucci from head to toe. Even his thick pea coat was designer. He pulled his hat down over his ears and made his way to the steps.

  “Yes, he had insurance! But I’ve been going back and forth with the assistance people since I decided not to put your trifling ass on child support! If you weren’t going to be a real father, what the fuck did you sign the birth certificate for?” She paused briefly. “What does me not wanting to be with you have to do with the fact that my son can’t breathe at night? He’s wheezing!” Another pause. “So you aren’t going to send me the money to grab his inhaler? Shantae is
on her way to get me right now because you said yesterday you would give me the money—hello? Hello?”

  Jayden heard her voice crack on the second “hello.” She looked at the phone in her hands, baffled, and not even knowing that she was being watched. Her fingers dialed another number on her touch screen smart phone. Her hands were shaking so much that she just put the phone on speaker instead of holding it to her ear.

  “Hello?” a loud woman’s voice answered with a deep Bronx accent.

  “Hey, Shantae,” her voice was soft then, like a mouse. “It’s OK, you don’t have to come get me, girl. Damien isn’t sending me the money like he said.”

  “What?”

  “I know.”

  “Lee Lee . . .” Shantae sighed loudly. “So how is Jaymar supposed to get his inhalers and nebulizer?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Look, I have a hundred on my card—”

  “No, Tae, you ain’t even gotta do all of that. You shouldn’t have to. Plus, I know you have things to do this weekend.”

  “Lee Lee . . .”

  “I know, girl. I’ma just keep boiling peppermints and having him inhale the steam until I get paid on Friday. Honestly, hopefully by then, the state calls me back and tells me they reopened his insurance.”

  “All right, boo,” Shantae said. “I’m still going to come through and get y’all.”

  “OK, cool. We’re outside waiting.”

  She disconnected the phone and went to put it in her coat pocket when she suddenly noticed the man standing in front of the steps. They connected eyes for a moment, and Jayden could tell that she felt embarrassed, realizing that he must have heard her whole conversation.

  “Excuse you?” she said and rolled her eyes at him.

  “I’m sorry you’re having a bad day,” Jayden told her, trying to offer her a kind smile.

  She looked him up and down before she scoffed. “I bet,” she shrugged. “’Cause it doesn’t look like you’ve had a bad day in a long time. What you doing listening to my conversation anyway? Ain’t you never heard of privacy?”

  “Trust me, I wasn’t trying to listen in on your baby daddy issues, but you were so loud, I’m sure the entire block heard you.”

  She didn’t mean to, but she smiled. She had a small gap between her two front teeth, and it made her ten times more attractive. Her smooth brown skin went well with the brown of her coat, and her eyes, her mahogany-colored eyes, were defiant. Jayden knew that she wasn’t happy, but it didn’t show. He smiled at her, and then at the two small boys. They were talking with each other and giggling at whatever they thought was funny at the time.

  “They’re happy,” Jayden observed.

  “Huh?”

  “They’re happy,” he repeated himself. “They look healthy and are dressed better than kids I see living in mansions. That lets me know that you don’t let them see you when you’re down, and you do what you have to do to keep it that way.”

  “You know that by just looking at them sitting there?”

  “And by the fact that you’re upset, but I can’t tell just by looking at you. You don’t even show weakness in your eyes.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  “The sassiness in your voice. Your attitude when you speak gives off everything you’re feeling. Don’t do that. Just believe.”

  “Believe in what? My son still has to go without his inhaler.”

  “Believe that everything happens for a reason. Like me being here at this very moment,” Jayden said and reached in his pocket for his wallet. From it, he pulled out every dollar he had and handed it to her. “That could be anywhere from two to five bands. Spend it wisely, but do something nice for yourself and your kids, all right, Lee Lee? I’m Jayden, by the way.”

  She was so taken aback as she stared at the money in her hands. Her eyes were on all of the Ben Franklins when he walked past her and through the entrance of the building. He headed for the stairs to get to the second floor when he heard Lee Lee’s soft voice sound behind him.

  “Kid.”

  He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

  “Kid,” she corrected him again. “I only have one kid. The younger one is mine. The older one is my sister’s son. I’m just babysitting today. But . . . thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “My bad,” Jayden told her with a wink. “One or two kids, you’re still fine, ma. I ain’t judging, but you’re welcome.”

  With that, he bounded up the stairs toward door number 205. Lee Lee was still on his mind when he knocked on the door to the apartment. He heard music playing loudly on the other end and lots of scattered movement.

  “Yo, what’s the word?” a gruff voice said.

  “Ain’t no word, just currency,” Jayden replied.

  After a few seconds, the door swung open and Jayden was greeted by a big cloud of smoke. When he entered, he passed a big man who was strapped with an AK-47 at his side. The man nodded at Jayden to show respect and stepped out of the way. Jayden didn’t know what to expect, but that definitely was not it. The apartment was decked out, complete with not one, but two fifty-inch flat screens on the wall. All of the furniture inside was black, including the leather sectional his brother was sitting on with three other dudes.

  “What’s good, baby bro?” Kayden’s cheerful voice sounded.

  His lip was still a little swollen, but other than that, he looked like life was treating him well. Both twins wore their hair cut low with popping waves and a clean lineup. Their sideburns connected with their small and neatly trimmed beards. Both had a muscular body build, and that, mixed with their handsome faces, never made it hard to get women.

  Jayden looked around the apartment and made a face. On the outside, one would never even think that any apartment in the building would look so nice. It even looked like there were new appliances added in it. The entire kitchen looked like one off a cooking show with a stainless steel refrigerator and dishwasher. Sitting at the high table in the dining room was a woman that Jayden recognized as Kitten, one of Kayden’s longtime slides. She was at the table with a friend in nothing but their underwear smoking a blunt and doing lines.

  “Hey, Jay,” Kitten greeted with a smile. “You trying to hit this?”

  She tried to pass the blunt to him, but he shook his head. He wasn’t even fazed by how voluptuous she or her friend looked in their black lace underwear. Jayden was more focused on why there were four bricks of cocaine out on the coffee table in front of his brother.

  “Kayden, what the fuck, yo?”

  “Chill, bro. I can’t have you coming up in my place of business wilding.”

  “Wilding?” Jayden made a face. “Nigga, you sitting up in a ghetto with the work and guns like it’s nothing. You real hot right now.”

  “I ain’t hot,” Kayden laughed. “Ain’t no better place to hide out than in plain sight, you feel me?”

  He reached and dapped up the man sitting beside him. Jayden shook his head and sighed. His brother always had a thing for moving recklessly, and he thought that Kay had learned his lesson when he almost got bumped up in Chicago. Their father, Greyson, had given him the task of being the face of his business on an expansion deal. Instead of doing things Greyson’s way, Kayden decided to throw in a few of his own ideas in the mix. He didn’t know how to keep it business, but he did know how to keep it hood. He opened up five trap houses around the city and hunted down all of the competition on some “get down or lay down” type stuff. In turn, he got the turf but almost lost his freedom. If it weren’t for Greyson’s connections in law enforcement, Kayden would have been looking at a fifty-year bid. Instead, he just had to leave the city. Greyson replaced him with another young cat, Casanova, who he trusted to hold things down in the Chi. Things had been quiet the year Kayden was gone, and Jayden finally had things moving smoothly the way he needed them to. Eventually, their father would step aside as the king of New York, and when he did, Jayden wanted the transition to be without iss
ue. But there Kayden was, trapping out of an apartment complex that looked to host the police at least five times a week.

  “Just sit down, Jay. Let’s talk.”

  “First tell me what Dad’s work is doing just sitting in the open like this.”

  Kayden looked from his brother, and then back to the glass coffee table. He made a face like he couldn’t see why Jayden didn’t understand what was going on.

  “That ain’t Pop’s work. Look at the packaging.”

  He threw one of the kilos to his brother, and Jayden caught it with one hand. At first, he was going to call his twin a fool because the special wrapping looked just like their father’s, but the closer he looked, he could see the difference.

  “His seal ain’t on here,” he said out loud.

  The seal he spoke of was the one that his father put on every kilo package. It was how he kept track of his work and how everyone who did business with him knew if the package was legit or not.

  “Bingo,” Kayden said. “I got a call from Miguel—”

  “The head of the Mexican Mafia?”

  “Yea, him,” Kayden confirmed.

  “Why he call you?”

  “You mean why did he call me and not you? He did, but you was too busy crying over a bitch to answer a business phone call.”

  Jayden didn’t say anything. He could have come at Kayden with a verbal blow of his own, but instead, he chose to stand down.

  “You buggin’, yo. What Miguel say?”

  “No, you buggin’, nigga. Anyway, he said that he placed an order with Pops and some niggas brought him this shit.”

  “The Mexicans are some of Dad’s most loyal customers. Ain’t no way he would try to snake them.” Jayden was suddenly intrigued by what Kayden was telling him.

  “Exactly. That’s why I had my mans, Dino, here,” the man beside Kayden nodded his head, “do some research.”

  “Word? What he find out.”

  “We tracked down where the fake dope is coming from. Some out-of-town niggas been out here on the move right under our noses.”