Goodfellas

by Carl Weber

  “Sir, can you hear me?” she asked again. Seeing Ricardo’s eyes move under his eyelids, she took it as a yes. “We’re almost at the hospital,” she assured him before asking, “Do you know the person who did this?”

  Ricardo didn’t know who was behind it, but even if he did and could speak, he wouldn’t have said a thing. He just wanted them to hurry and get him to the hospital. He was in a fight for his life, and at the moment, he was struggling to survive. He could feel his strength waning; then darkness and silence engulfed him.

  * * *

  Lying awake in the bed next to a still sleeping Shantelle, East tried to force himself not to think about his mother or Tez. Not a day had passed that he didn’t miss them both or regret killing Tez. East had been taught to quickly put things out of his mind. It was a skill that had served him well up until now. But killing Tez was the one thing he couldn’t shake. It had continued to bother him. The pain hadn’t faded over the years; it only seemed to increase. Nothing had felt the same since he lost both Ebony and Tez. A piece of him had died along with them.

  His phone ringing on the nightstand broke him from his thoughts. “Yeah,” he quickly answered, thankful for the distraction.

  “You see the news?” Screw asked.

  “Nah, what’s up?”

  “Nigga, turn on the news right now,” Screw told him.

  East grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. There was breaking news. A deadly shooting. A dead body covered with sheets, in front of Ricardo’s boxing gym.

  “Somebody tried to kill Ricardo,” Screw said.

  East sat up in the bed with such urgency that it woke Shantelle.

  “What’s wrong?” she said in a fog of sleepiness, her heart pounding from being startled.

  “Let me call you back.” East quickly rushed to hang up the phone, not wanting Screw to recognize Shantelle’s voice. He told himself that this would be the last time they hooked up. He needed to be the one to put a stop to it because he knew she never would. Shit could go real bad if Screw found out.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her naked body peeking from under the sheet.

  East didn’t respond immediately, not out of rudeness, but he didn’t have an answer. He used the remote to increase the volume, and they both listened to the female reporter on the TV. She hadn’t even finished her report before he was out of the bed and getting dressed.

  “What’s happening?” the concern in Shantelle’s voice was evident.

  It served as another reminder to East why he needed to end things with her. She needed to be as far away from shit like this as possible.

  “Isn’t that Ricardo’s gym on—”

  East interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. “Yeah. Get dressed. I gotta take you . . . home.” The last words came out a bit awkward.

  “You can drop me at my girl’s house. I have a key,” Shantelle told him, then smirked at the look of relief his face showed.

  * * *

  The loud banging at the door startled Dos from his sleep. He removed the legs of the naked women in his bed from across his body, grabbed his gun from under his pillow, and got out of the bed.

  “Dos, get up! We gotta go! It’s your pops,” the voice screamed on a continuous loop from the other side of the door.

  Dos looked through the peephole. His cousin was on the other side with a frantic look on his face. Dos snatched the door open and stood in the doorway naked with his gun in his hand. “What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout? What about my pops?” he asked with a scowl on his face.

  “He got shot outside the gym this morning,” Rio told him. “He still alive but—” Dos raced to grab some clothes before he could finish his sentence.

  * * *

  The doors of the emergency room opened. East turned in time to see Dos rushing through them, dressed in a Nike jogging suit with Rio following close behind. His chest heaved up and down as he marched over to the nurse’s station. “Where’s my father?” he barked, banging his hands down on the desk. He was full of adrenaline and could barely contain his anger. Dos always operated purely off emotions.

  The security guard on duty quickly approached. “Sir, you’re gonna have to calm down or I’ma have to ask you to leave,” his voice boomed through the ER.

  Dos pinched the tip of his nose and looked up at the ceiling. “My father was just shot. If you don’t wanna be next, you’ll get the fuck outta my face,” he threatened the security guard. The cold stare made the man take a step back. Dos was heated that the security guard would have the audacity to press him.

  “Sir, please calm down so I can help you,” one of the older nurses spoke up, trying to defuse the situation. She had a soothing voice and seemed to be the one in charge.

  “I’m calm,” Dos replied. His chest was still heaving up and down.

  “Now what is your father’s name, young man? And when was he brought—”

  Before the nurse could finish her questions, Dos turned and saw East quickly approaching them from across the lobby. He met him halfway. Without a greeting, he asked, “Where’s my father?”

  East shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me nothing either.”

  Dos sighed in frustration. “Whatchu doing here anyway?” he scoffed. There was distaste in his tone.

  “Same thing you’re doing here,” East retorted.

  Dos chuckled inwardly. They had once been close. But that no longer was the case. Dos viewed East as beneath him. Truth was, East wasn’t born to follow. He had boss potential. Ricardo knew it, and so did Dos, deep down inside.

  “Excuse me, Nurse,” the sultry sound of a woman’s voice called out. “I’m Mrs. Wheeler. Can you tell me where my husband is?”

  East and Dos turned toward Lauryn, who was standing at the nurse’s station, flanked by her bodyguard. Nearly fifteen years younger than her husband, Lauryn mesmerized any man that looked at her. She had unmatched beauty with flawless bronze skin and a tight body. Her hair was pulled up in a top bun, and she was draped in designer clothes from head to toe. The spoils of being the trophy wife of a boss. She had dry tear lines on her face. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying the whole ride to the hospital.

  “Here comes the doctor now, ma’am. He will be able to tell you everything you need to know.” The nurse pointed in the direction of a tall, slender white man in a white lab coat.

  Lauryn rushed over to him with Dos, East, and Rio right behind her. “Doctor, I’m Mrs. Wheeler. Is my husband okay?” She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath, bracing for his answer.

  The doctor was caught off guard by the sight of the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She looked more like his patient’s daughter than his wife. He cleared his throat to regain his professionalism, preparing to deliver the news. “Well, ma’am, Mr. Wheeler’s condition is still very much touch and go at this moment. He was shot multiple times. We are doing everything we can for him.”

  Tears clouded Lauryn’s eyes as they ran down her face. She shook uncontrollably. Her legs felt weak. Her emotions were all over the place. She grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Can I see him, please? Just for a minute.” She eyed the doctor with her soft brown eyes that made men melt. The doctor was no exception.

  He cleared his throat once again as his face became a blushing red. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wheeler, did you say it was? I wish I could, but I have to say no. It’s too early,” he answered before trying to walk away.

  Dos grabbed the doctor’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. He squeezed so tight the doctor could feel the circulation stop. Dos stepped closer, so now their faces were only inches apart. “My father better live or you won’t, understand me?” he assured the doctor. The crazed look in his eyes struck fear in the poor man.

  “Dos, chill,” Rio said, grabbing his arm, trying to calm the escalating tension. “That ain’t helping the situation. Let the man do his job.”

  Dos released the doctor’s arm, then shot Rio a menacing look. Rio
let his arm go. Dos eyed East for a moment, then walked away in anger. The bodyguard that had accompanied Lauryn escorted her to the waiting room. Suddenly, Dos stopped midstride and marched back over to East. “Let me talk to you outside for a minute.” East nodded, and with that, they headed for the front door.

  Once they were outside, Rio stayed back while Dos and East walked side by side. Dos lit a Newport and took a long drag. He was on edge. “Where you was this morning?”

  “What?” East snapped back.

  “You hard of hearing? I said, where were you this morning when my father got shot? Cuz you been acting different ever since the shit with Tez. Now you up here at the hospital, acting all concerned and shit. It don’t add up.” Dos’s anger was at a rolling boil.

  “Nigga, you don’t even believe that shit you’re saying,” East quickly dismissed him. “What’s wrong wit’ you?” he questioned Dos’s thinking.

  “What’s wrong wit’ me?” Dos snapped, gesturing with his hands toward the hospital. “Nigga, my father lying shot up in the hospital is what the fuck is wrong with me.”

  “And you should be in there, praying he make it instead of out here talking reckless to me.”

  “Who is you to tell me what I should be doing? I ain’t ask for your advice,” he seethed.

  “So, what’s there to talk about then?” East replied becoming aggravated with the back and forth. He knew Dos was too hot tempered to ever think sensibly anyway.

  “You was always good at being the help,” Dos asserted in a condescending tone. He eyed East up and down. “So help.”

  “What the fuck you say?” East pressed him, so they were face-to-face.

  Dos smirked. “You ain’t deaf, nigga.” He blew smoke from his mouth, then tossed his cigarette to the ground. Neither of them was willing to back down. “My pops been spoon-feeding you. If my plug got shot, I’d be out here in the daytime with a flashlight trying to find who did it. ’Cause that’s fucking with my money. Unless you had something to do with it,” Dos wondered aloud, eyeing East suspiciously. “I’m calling the shots for now, and I say, there’s a green light on any and everybody. No exceptions.” Dos made sure to emphasize his last statement so East knew that included him as well.

  East chuckled. “Only because your father is in there right now,” he said, pointing toward the hospital. “And I know you ain’t thinking straight. I’m gonna forget you just said that.” East swallowed hard, maintaining his composure. “You always wanted to be the boss, right, Junior?” He called Dos by the name he hated. “Here’s your big chance,” he countered, then walked away.

  “Tell me something, East, ’cause I’m really starting to wonder about you.” Dos’s words floated through the air stopping East in his tracks. His muscles flexed and twitched as he walked back toward Dos.

  “What?”

  “Since when you turned into a jellyfish? ’Cause I can remember one time in particular when you used to have that killer instinct. Remember? Pow!” Dos made a gun with his finger and pulled the trigger, referring to East murdering his mentor, Tez. He was now questioning if East no longer had a backbone or the heart for the streets.

  “Fuck you,” East shot back. “You and I both know better than that, but go handle your business, nigga. You the boss now, right? King of Miami,” he shouted while sarcastically clapping his hands. “If and when you decide you really wanna do something, you know where to find me.” East shook his head, then walked to his car. He decided that coming to the hospital today was a bad idea. He would check on Ricardo another time.

  Rio approached Dos as East hopped in his car and drove off. “What’s up wit’ that nigga?”

  “Fuck him.” Dos was dismissive.

  “He ain’t really family, anyway,” Rio said.

  “Exactly,” Dos agreed, then headed back inside the hospital.

  Chapter Ten

  East stood quietly in front of his mother’s grave. He had come to replace the flowers, something he did often. He knew she would want and appreciate that. He didn’t say much when he came, choosing, instead, just to enjoy the peacefulness of sitting with his mother. He remembered doing the same thing the night she died.

  After the doctor delivered the devastating news that Ebony had passed, another doctor entered the waiting room minutes later. He offered East the opportunity to see his mother’s body. Even then, East was brave behind his years. He showed no hesitation in doing so. With tears in his eyes, he followed the doctor. Entering the room where his mother’s body was, East climbed in the bed with her and rubbed her hair. As he stood in the cemetery years later, he could still recall how soft it felt. He traced his hand across her face, slow and gently like a blind person would to log someone’s appearance into their brain. East lay there for hours, just looking at her, staying with her, not wanting to leave. It was the one thing he could do to make himself feel better . . . not leave. Because leaving her would mean she was really gone, and he wasn’t ready to accept that. So he stayed there, rubbing her hair and kissing her face for hours until Tez finally took him home.

  East was startled from his thoughts by the sound of grass crunching under someone’s feet. He looked away from his mother’s headstone, expecting to see a groundskeeper. Instead, Lauryn was standing there, looking flawless like usual, although he could tell she was using sunglasses as a veil, probably to hide her red-rimmed eyes. Not a hair on her head was out of place. She wore a white tank top, skintight jeans, pink Christian Louboutin pumps, and held a pink Chanel bag in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other. She was always put together. Her way of distracting from the hurt she felt. That might have fooled everyone else, but East recognized the look. He had seen it before, during his younger days as her bodyguard.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said softly. “I wasn’t even sure if it was you.” East remained silent momentarily. She could see he was thrown off by her presence. “I’m here visiting my father. He’s over there,” she pointed.

  “That’s right,” East said, quickly remembering as he looked in that direction.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t speak the other night at the hospital.”

  “I understand,” he assured her that he hadn’t taken offense. “How is he?” he inquired about Ricardo.

  Lauryn lowered her head. “Nothing has changed . . . yet.” East nodded. “It’s nice seeing you again,” she said. He had matured nicely since his days as one of her many bodyguards.

  “It’s nice to see you too.” East noticed there was nobody shadowing her. “If you don’t mind me asking, shouldn’t there be someone with you?”

  “I gave them the day off,” she revealed.

  East smiled. He had always gotten the impression Lauryn didn’t like her every move being shadowed. With Ricardo in the hospital, she had taken the opportunity to move more freely. After a long pause, he said, “Well . . . be safe,” and turned to walk away.

  “Don’t go,” she blurted out surprisingly. “If you don’t mind. It would be nice to have you here . . . like old times.” And for the first time, a smile creased her face.

  “I can do that.” East smiled too.

  Lauryn was thankful he decided to stay and keep her company. Having East there wouldn’t take away the pain, but it strangely gave her some comfort. When he stepped away to allow her privacy to grieve, she grabbed his hand to stop him, then pulled him closer for support.

  He smells so good, she thought to herself, then let the thought good turn her attention to her father. East kept her company until she finished her visit. When she was ready to leave, he escorted her to the parking lot. He opened her car door for her.

  “Old habits dead hard,” she quipped.

  East laughed. “Oh, you got jokes.”

  “I’m just kidding,” she chuckled. “I can see that ain’t your thing no more.” She too recognized what everyone saw in East. He was a different breed. A charismatic street nigga that was a goon and a hustler, all in one. He was destined for greatness. He had too much p
otential not to.

  “It good to see you not dressed in black,” he said seriously.

  “You noticed.” Lauryn appreciated that he had. She removed her shades and took him in completely. She studied his handsome face, and her eyes zoomed in to the tattoos on his neck. She couldn’t help but notice how he had matured into a sexy piece of eye candy. Although he was forbidden fruit, it didn’t hurt to look. She smiled.

  “I always did.” East returned the gesture. It was impossible not to. Lauryn did this thing with her eyes when she spoke. It was like a magnetic pull that drew people in. She had a captivating aura and could cast a spell with her alluring eyes.

  “It feels good to be seen. You know . . . like a person and not a trophy sometimes,” she explained, then laughed nervously, pushing back tears. She had so much pent-up emotions, she felt like she would explode.

  “You’ve been through a lot,” East said. “No one expects you to be Superwoman all the time.”

  “This is so embarrassing,” she sighed and attempted to wipe her tears, only to be stopped by East.

  “No apologies needed. If you need to cry . . . cry. It’s like taking your soul to the Laundromat.”

  “What you know about some Lyfe Jennings?” she asked, cracking a smirk through her tears.

  “You’d be surprised what I know,” East said.

  “You’d be more surprised what you don’t,” Lauryn said. The tone of her voice suddenly changed.

  “What don’t I know? Tell me,” East searched her eyes intensely. Despite Lauryn’s calm exterior, there was now a different look in her eyes. The look of a woman who knew more than she was willing to say. It had appeared out of nowhere, almost involuntary. Her eyes seemed to hold secrets that were buried deep inside but dying to reveal themselves.

  “There’s always a few missing parts to everyone’s story,” she explained. Lauryn stared at East. For some reason, she felt comfortable. That wasn’t always the case for Lauryn being around men that worked for her husband. Most never said a word to her and were afraid to even make eye contact. They made her feel like a thing and not a person. East was different. He didn’t treat her like that. He made her feel normal, like she did before she was the boss’s wife. Secretly, Lauryn despised that title. It put her in a bubble. She wasn’t allowed to be herself. But in his presence, she felt free. Even if it was only for the brief moment that they stood alone in the parking lot of a cemetery. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time.