For The Love Of A Goon 2: A Miami Hood Love Tale

by Lady J

  Moe moaned lightly as the feeling took over her body. With everything they’d been going through, it had been a while since the two had been intimate, and he was about to enjoy every second of their lovemaking. Moe lay down flat on her stomach while Meek took his time slowly stroking her from behind. She closed her eyes as she began to drift off into another world. Meek, on the other hand, was feeling like he had just stepped off a first class flight right in the middle of paradise.

  KNOCK! KNOCK!

  The knocking at the bedroom door startled Moe, but didn’t seem to bother Meek one bit as he continued stroking. “Yeah?” Moe yelled out.

  “Are y’all almost ready, while you rushing me?” Carmen asked from the other side of the door.

  “Umm, we’ll be right out, C,” Moe replied.

  “Eww, why you sound like that? What y’all in there doing?” Carmen questioned.

  “Nothing, Carmen, now get your nosey ass on, please!” Meek said after her annoying questioning messed up the steady flow he had going on.

  “Eww, y’all doing the nasty ain’t y’all?” Carmen kept talking through the door, refusing to leave the couple alone.

  “C, go away,” Moe said in the midst of the moment. The shit was feeling too good to stop.

  Carmen finally strutted off back to her bedroom. She flopped down in the chair in front of her dresser, folded her arms across her chest, and pouted her lips like an angry child would do after their mother had just told them no. After a short while of staring at herself in the dresser mirror, she began to laugh at herself, thinking she looked just like Kira when she pouts. She then started to feel happy as thoughts of the day she gave birth flashed back in her mind. Having Kira was one of the greatest moments of her life.

  Her mood quickly switched from happy to sad in just a matter of minutes. She envisioned laying up in the hospital bed in labor while Trent coached her through it and held her hand. Three days later, all three of them left the hospital together as a family. Shortly after, Carmen found out Trent was cheating on her with numerous women and their happy little family seemingly faded away. He started leaving her and Kira home alone all the time, and then when he stopped coming home at night, she started to feel even more abandoned. She remembered chasing him all over the city, trying to get him to spend family time with her and their daughter. She even remembered the many fist fights and knock out matches she’d had with a lot of his groupie side chicks.

  Finally, she got tired of the fighting and blatant disrespect and just let him do whatever he wanted. He would stay with her all through the day, and at night he would disappear. Carmen knew exactly what he was up to. The moment he broke the news to her that he had bought a three-bedroom home, she became over joyed, thinking he had bought the home for her, himself, and Kira. At the time, Trent didn’t even have the balls to tell her that she wasn’t moving in with him at his new home, and that her and Kira would be forced to stay in the same two-bedroom apartment she still resided in. Of course, he kept the bills paid and food in their tummies, but that wasn’t enough for Carmen, and probably would never be.

  She gazed in the mirror and couldn’t even recognize her own self from the heavy dark sand bags underneath her eyes and how pale her skin had turned due to her being so sick. At that moment, Carmen knew just what she had to do.

  Eight

  “Go best friend, that’s my bestie right there, y’all.”

  Carmen cheered and clapped her hands as Moe and Meek kissed at the end of the short, sweet ceremony. Moe’s skin glowed brightly against the pale yellow dress she was sporting. She had her hair pulled up into a nice neat bun to expose the full beautiful features of her face. She smiled from ear to ear with nothing but love and happiness in her heart. It was finally over; she was now Mrs. Moenisha Brown. For the first time in the past few months, she was happy. She pushed all the crazy stream of events to the back of her mind for the moment so that she could live in her glory.

  Meek lifted Moe in his arms, carried her to the car, and safely placed her inside. As they drove back to Carmen’s place, he begin to wonder if this was right. He knew that he had married Moenisha because she was the love of his life, but was it fair to her, knowing that he was facing so much time away? He wasn’t sure how she was feeling about it all, and he wondered if she felt as if he had rushed her into becoming his wife. One thing he did know was that Moe loved him deeply because that she showed him daily. Every now and then, Meek would take his eyes off of the road to get a glimpse of the beautiful smile still plastered on his wife’s face.

  He then peered into the rearview mirror and saw Carmen’s angry face. She held her cell phone tightly in her hands, texting away. Meek figured it was Trent she was cursing out via text message.

  “You ladies hungry?” Meek asked, turning his attention back to the road.

  “Hell yeah,” Carmen spoke up before Moe had a chance.

  “I know y’all hungry,” Moe said referring to Carmen and the baby she was carrying.

  “It won’t be y’all for long,” Carmen whispered to herself as if Meek and Moe didn’t hear her.

  The text Meek had observed her sending was to tell Trent that she was not keeping the baby. She knew she would probably hate herself for the decision, but that was something she was willing to deal with.

  “After we eat, can we stop by the hospital to see Ro? I miss her, man.”

  Her mind fell on Roshel as soon as she closed out her text box and she saw the picture of Ro she had saved as her screen saver. On the picture she was sitting in her wheelchair, smiling, just as happy as ever. It was her birthday that day, she had a stack of wrinkled up dollar bills pinned to her shirt. Carmen remembered herself and Moe pushing Ro around the projects that day making damn near every nigga in the hood pin money on her. They got so drunk that night that they nearly dropped Ro from her chair trying to get her up the steps of Carmen’s apartment building. Ro cursed them out so bad that night when they finally got her up the stairs, then she looked at them and laughed because she was just as wasted as they were.

  “Yeah, we can do that,” Meek replied. “Where y’all want to eat at?”

  “Anywhere is fine, bae,” Moe said as she sat up and checked her reflection in the sun visor mirror. “Umm, what’s wrong with you?” she asked, noticing the look on Carmen’s face in the backseat. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, Moe,” she lied.

  There was no way she was going to steal her friend’s joy on her day with all of her problems. She wanted to tell her that she had decided to move forward with her plan of having an abortion, and that her and Trent were in the middle of a very heated argument about it that had her feeling down at the moment. Instead, she played it off as if everything was just fine and that his words didn’t have her so upset.

  “You sure? You look like you’re mad as hell back there.” She turned around in the front seat to face her. Extending her hand, she grabbed Carmen’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Everything is going to be okay, Carmen. Just be strong, we all have to be,” she said, cutting her eyes over at Meek on the driver’s side.

  When she turned to face Carmen again, tears had begun to fill her eyes. Moe searched the center console of the car then handed her a napkin to dry her tears. Seeing her like that made her want to cry too, but Moe was already all cried out. She watched Carmen as she dried her tears then stared out the window at the bright Miami sun.

  When the car came to a stop, she turned around in her seat, grabbed her purse, and hopped out the car. She opened Carmen’s door to let her out then walked around to meet Meek and slid her arm underneath his. On their way into the breakfast restaurant, Carmen dragged a few feet behind them.

  The three sat down and ordered their food. They held a long conversation about how the game was all fucked up and these niggas was only out for self these days. As the conversation got deeper, Meek realized he was about to go away without having a plan for his wife. He couldn’t just leave her for all those years and not know h
ow she was going to eat and survive. He had a couple hundred dollars in his pocket, but that would be gone by the end of the week. After that, he had no idea where his next dollar was going to come from, but Meek was determined to make something shake. Even if he had to turn into a stick up kid, he would, just so his lady wouldn’t have to go broke.

  He knew what he had to do, and with nothing left to lose, he was about to go back to the only thing he was known to do, hustle. It had been how he’d kept them fed, and the only way he knew they would eat. He had about a good month and two full weeks before he would be sentenced for the trafficking case he was charged with, so that meant he only had a month and a half to get his money up.

  Luckily, his mother had kept a life insurance policy paid up on both of her sons because she knew they were so heavily involved in the streets. And we all know there’s only two ways out, death or prison. Meek’s mother now had one son she was preparing bury, and another who was possibly going off to prison. He thought about the very last time he had spoken with his mother and how hurt she was over losing her baby boy. He couldn’t even look her in her face when she broke down crying and screaming in the middle of her living room floor; he hated to see his moms that way.

  “Mama! Mama! It’s me, open the door!” he yelled while banging on his mother’s front door.

  It was late in the evening and he had made Moe drive him there after they left the hospital the day Nino was killed. Nino’s dry blood was still all over his t-shirt and hands. He ripped his shirt off at the door and tossed it in the bushes beside her front door. He didn’t want his mother to see all the blood on his shirt.

  “Ma, please open the door.” Meek continued to bang. He knew his mother like the back of his hand, and knew that she had gotten off from her evening job and went straight to bed like she always does.

  “Boy, I’m coming. Why you doing all that banging and yelling like somebody is….” His mother swung the door open and paused when she laid eyes on her oldest son. The first thing she noticed was the stream of tears running from his red eyes, then the blood on his hands and forearms. “Son, what’s, what’s going on?” She stuttered on her words as she feared the worst. She clutched at her chest, awaiting a response.

  Meek stepped into his mother’s house and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “They got him, Ma. Raninous is gone. They shot him down,” he informed her while trying to keep her calm, but that didn’t work.

  She broke free from his hug and stared him strangely in the eyes. “Boy, what did you just say? Where’s my baby, Dameeko?” Her eyes were gloomy and she was still clutching at her chest. “Don’t you sit here and tell me my son is gone.” Her face began to twist up, then she started to scream at the top of her lungs. “Not my baby, not Nino,” she cried. “Son, tell me what happened to my baby.”

  “Ma, I don’t know what happened. I’m still trying to figure out why,” Meek replied to his mother.

  When she dropped to her knees and started to call on the Lord as she shouted, Meek turned away. He hated to see her hurting. As the sounds of her cries echoed in his ears, he dropped tear after tear, looking at the ton of framed family photos his mom had of them from the time they were babies to young men.

  “Ma, I’ma find out what’s going on.” He kneeled down and placed a kiss on his mother’s forehead. “I love you, my lady,” was the last thing he said before leaving her broken on the living room floor.

  “Hey, I’ma go ahead and drop y’all off at the hospital. I need to go holla at my Moms and handle a few things. Is that cool, baby?” he asked his wife.

  “Sure, we need to spend some time with Ro today anyway,” she said.

  Meek pulled up in front of the University of Miami hospital and hit the unlock button. He waited until Moe and Carmen were inside before he pulled away. As much as he wanted to go up and visit Roshel, he didn’t because he couldn’t even pull into the parking lot without thinking of his brother. He knew going inside would only make things worse.

  He left the parking lot and hopped on the expressway. His mother lived about thirty minutes away. As he drove, he bobbed his head to the music playing on the local Miami radio station. He kept his eyes on the cars traveling around him in case one of them was the police. They were known to drive normal cars to blend in, but Meek knew what was up. He peeped everything. When he pulled into his mother’s yard, he turned the volume down on his radio and turned the truck off. He sat there for just a second, trying to prepare himself mentally in case his mother was still in a funk. When he felt ready, he got out of his truck and entered his mother’s home.

  “Mama!” he yelled upon entering.

  The smell of lemon scented candles burning and the soft sounds of gospel music wafted from her bedroom to greet him. He turned the corner leading to his mom’s room and there she was. At age 53, she was just as beautiful as ever. His mother had a kind spirt and a big heart, with plenty of love to share with everyone. Growing up in the hood, she used to feed other people’s kids, and even allow them to hang around her house just so they wouldn’t be out on the street. She cared so deeply about others, probably more than she cared for herself.

  “Ma, you good?” Meek asked, staring at his mother from the doorway of her bedroom.

  His mother was sitting on the edge of her bed with a pile of photobooks resting next to her. She was slowly going through the memories of the special moments she’d shared with her baby boy. It was one o’clock in the afternoon and she was still in her gown, housecoat, and house shoes. Her eyes were red and puffy like she hadn’t stopped crying since she received the news.

  Meek walked over to her bedroom window and opened the blinds to let some sunlight into the dimly lit room. “Mama,” he called out again, “you okay?” He eased his way toward her and took a seat on the bed.

  “Oh, yeah, son. Mama will be just fine after a while.” She looked up at him and forced a smile. She was trying her best to deal with the tragedy. Losing a child is something that would tear any parent apart. “Umm,” she paused and cleared her throat, “hand me my billfold over there.”

  Meek got up and did as his mother said. She pulled out her checkbook and wrote out a check. “Now, I already called Fred down there at the suit shop on the corner. I need you to go down there and pick your brother out a nice suit, tie, and a nice pair of shoes. When you’ve done that, take the things to the funeral home. They’ve patched him up quite nicely. Good enough so that we can have an open casket. My boy looks so peaceful laying there.” She had viewed her son’s dead body for the first time the day before. “Here, this check should cover it.” She ripped the check off and handed it to Meek. “And baby…”

  “Yes ma’am?” Meek answered his mother.

  “Mama love you, son,” she said before he exited her bedroom.

  Meek stopped at the suit shop and did just as his mother instructed. When he entered the store, Fred, the suit shop owner greeted him with a smile and a wave. “Hey there, Dameeko.” The kind older gentlemen came from around the front counter and pulled Meek into a tight bear hug. “Boy, how long has it been?” He stepped back, adjusted his thick glasses on his face, then pulled up the suspender straps he had holding up his pants.

  “It’s been quite a while, sir,” Meek answered, unable to remember the very last time he’d seen old Mr. Fred. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Fred.”

  Meek remembered all the times his mother would stop them by his shop on their way to the barbershop on the same block just two storefronts down. Meek secretly thought his mother and Mr. Fred had something going on back in the day. He used to flirt with her and always just smile, but he never said too much around him and his brother.

  “It sure has. Boy, I remember when your mama used to walk you boys down here from the projects every Saturday to get those big nappy heads cut.” The old man begun to chuckle. “Well, of course, until you started growing those things you got on your head now. What do they call those things?” Mr. Fred readjusted his glasses once more to look a
t Meek’s long dreads.

  “Dreads, Mr. Fred,” Meek replied, easing his way around Mr. Fred’s awkward stance. “My mama said something about picking out a suit or something.”

  He looked around at the hundreds of suits Mr. Fred had around his store. Some were bold and colorful, and others were more polished and sophisticated. Meek was completely clueless; he’d never even dreamed he’d have to pick out a suit to bury his little brother in.

  “Follow me,” Mr. Fred said. “I’ve already picked out some things for you to choose from.”

  He led Meek around the front counter and to the back storage room of the store. On a rack hung four suits for Meek to choose from, three pairs of nice shoes, and shirts and ties. “Take your time. I’ll be out front if you need me.” Mr. Fred lightly patted him on the shoulder then returned to run his store.

  Meek stood there with his arms folded across his chest as he thought about which suit his brother would pick for himself if he was still alive. He flipped through the same four suits on the rack over and over before he decided on the black one with thin red pinstripes.

  “Yeah, my lil nigga gon’ look real nice in this one.” He held the suit up from the rack in front of him to take a closer look. He hung the suit over his forearm then grabbed the pair of black Stacy Adams from the floor underneath the clothing rack. His mother had already given Mr. Fred Nino’s sizes so everything was the perfect fit. Meek picked up a white shirt, a red tie, and matching handkerchief. He carried the things back to the front of the store and placed them on the front counter.

  He took the check he had folded up in his pocket out and handed it to Mr. Fred. “Will this be enough?”

  “This will be fine, son.” Mr. Fred took the check from Meek’s hand then bagged up the clothes and shoes. He handed Meek the bags and looked him dead in the eyes. “Son, tell your mother that I’m so sorry for what happened to your brother. I could hear in her voice earlier this morning when she called, that it was tearing her apart. You got to make sure you take care of her, she’s going to need you.” He let go of the bag and shook Meek’s hand firmly. “You be safe out there now,” he finished before letting go of Meek’s hand. “And don’t you be no stranger now, stop by and see ole Fred every now and then.”