A Gangster’s Dream
3
Treasure Malian
&
Charmanie Saquea
Previously in A Gangster’s Dream 2…
Melo killed the engine to his truck and jumped out with anticipation. It had been a few days since he’d had the chance to have everyone he loved in the same spot and he was looking forward to it. Shit had been hectic, so a day of celebration with his family was much needed. Parking, as usual, was hard as hell to find on his mother’s block so he found himself walking from the only spot that was available. The beaming June sun caused sweat to trickle down his face. Quickly, he wiped away the sweat beads with the back of his hand and continued his walk. As he got closer to his mother’s house, a familiar frame came into view, forcing him to smile. It was Summer; seeing her and being in her presence bought a joy to Carmelo that no one would understand. Even though he was relieved that Caiden was indeed her father, it didn’t stop him from loving her like she was his. It’s not that he wouldn’t have accepted her being his child, he just didn’t want to fuck shit up between him and his brother, or him and Summer for that matter. It was best for things to remain how they were. His smile turned into a frown when he saw the sour expression on her face.
“Why the long face?” Carmelo asked Summer as he approached her.
“You’re the only one here,” she admitted.
“What you mean, I'm the only one here, Sum? I spoke to Dream and she said she was on her way a minute ago. And where the fuck is your pops?” Carmelo stated, visibly upset.
“I mean, nana is here, of course, but… I don't know. This is the worst day of my life,” Summer said.
Carmelo shook his head and took a step in his niece’s direction. He reached out with open arms and on cue, she fell into his embrace. With his arms wrapped tightly around her, Carmelo rocked side to side and told her not to stress. Although Carmelo was pissed, he was doing his best at trying to keep calm for the sake of Summer. It was the day of her junior prom, and for the most important people in her life not to show up to see her get ready, or to see her off didn’t sit right with him. He knew she was hurt, but as always, he was going to do whatever was necessary to put a smile on her face.
“Summer, I told you about letting people bring you down, didn’t I?” he asked.
Summer nodded and spoke, “Yes, but I hate when people make promises. Dream said she wouldn’t miss seeing me off to prom but she isn’t here. Let’s not even start on my dad. My day is just ruined.”
“Cut that noise. I got something for you.”
Hearing those words put an instant smile on Summer’s face. If there was one thing she loved, it was gifts from her uncle.
“I see you smiling, stop trynna hide it. Stay right here,” Melo said as he backpedaled off the porch. He jogged a few houses down to where his truck was parked. After hitting the button on the key fob to unlock the doors, he opened the back door and retrieved the Tiffany bag that was resting on the floor.
He smiled at thought of how Summer was going to react to her gift. His plan was to surprise her with it once she was dressed and ready to go, but being that she was in a sour mood, he figured the best time was now. He clicked the button to lock his truck and spun on his heels to head back toward Summer. Something stopped him in his tracks and caused him to reach for his gun. The feeling that something was about to happen overwhelmed him. Carmelo averted his attention up the street and that's when he saw a black truck creeping in his direction. Everything was off about how the truck was moving, which put him in defense mode.
He was too slow.
Tat tat tat tat
Car alarms blared as gunfire erupted on the normally quiet block. Carmelo let shots off in the direction of the truck as he ran forward trying to get to Summer. He thought he was dodging bullets until he realized he wasn't the target. Tires could be heard screeching as the truck disappeared off the block. That was the last thing on Carmelo's mind. The sight before him had him fucked up, almost to the point where he couldn't breathe.
“Sum...” Carmelo attempted to call out but his words got caught in his throat.
Staring at her nearly lifeless, bullet-riddled body sucked the air out of him. Dropping to his knees, Carmelo pulled Summer onto his lap.
“Come on, Sum,” he cried.
Summer coughed violently as blood spewed from her mouth. Carmelo's mother’s voice could be heard in the distance as she called out for Summer but he disregarded it. He cradled Summer in his arms and slowly rose to his feet. Although his knees felt as if they were going to cave in, he continued forward. He had to get her to the hospital. Not even the amount of pain he was in was going to hold him back.
“Stay with me, Summer. I'm going to get you help,” he whispered as he continued his way toward his truck.
He looked down and saw Summer’s eyes roll into the back her head before closing. Her chest heaved up and down slowly so he knew she was still with him.
Carmelo struggled with trying to keep Summer holstered in his arms and opening the back door. Finally, he got the door open and scooted Summer inside. He slammed the door and turned to rush to the driver’s side and was met by the horrified look on his mother’s face.
“My gra…”
“We don't have time for that shit, Ma. Get in the truck,” Carmelo barked.
Never in a million years would he have come at his mother that way, but time wasn't their best friend. They both jumped into the truck, and Carmelo peeled off en route to the nearest hospital.
<><><><>
“We need help,” Carmelo screamed out as he burst through the emergency room entrance at Long Island College Hospital with Summer in his arms.
Hot tears flowed freely down his face and onto Summer’s blood stained shirt. He was approached by a doctor who had a gurney in tow. They reached out for Summer but Carmelo was hesitant. He knew he had to let her go if she had any chance of surviving but letting her go almost made him feel like she wouldn't come back.
“Sir, we have to take her from here.”
Carmelo looked down at Summer as he placed her onto the gurney. He noticed that her lips were moving, but he couldn't hear or make out what she was trying to say.
“Stay here,” one doctor said to him.
Carmelo disregarded the doctor’s demand and walked beside the gurney. Summer’s lips was still moving. He moved closer and leaned down near her face.
“I’m here, Summer. You going to be okay, baby girl.” He gripped her hand gently and did his best at trying to reassure her, but he knew it was bad.
“I—I lo love you… Dad,” Summer stuttered before her grip on Carmelo’s hand loosened and her arm fell loosely at her side.
“Summer… Summer!” Carmelo screamed out in agony.
“Sir, please step back,” a nurse said while stepping forward to check Summer for a pulse.
“No, I'm not moving. Do your fucking job and save her,” Carmelo barked.
Ignoring his outburst, the doctors and nurses proceeded through the double doors that clearly stated no visitors were allowed beyond that point. The last thing that could be heard clearly was a nurse saying, “No pulse.”
Full of hurt and anger, Carmelo could no longer control his emotions. He sent his fist flying into the wall, leaving behind a huge hole, and causing himself damaged knuckles. The slight pain from hitting the wall was nothing compared to the pain of uncertainty he was facing.
“It should have been me,” Melo cried out as he slid to his knees and broke down.
Chapter One
Carmelo felt another presence enter his space but refused to look up to acknowledge the person. He didn't care that he appeared to be broken; he was.
Summer was everything to him and the fact that he knew she was in this predicament because of him pained him to a point that couldn't be explained in words, so he didn't try. His actions, which included sobbing, dry heaving, and a bit of hyperventilation, showed just how hurt, just how broken, just how distraught he was. There was no way Carmelo could mask the pain he felt even if he tried.
“Why her?” Carmelo asked rhetorically between cries.
“You have to pull it together,” his mother spoke.
There was no doubt that she too was in pain because of what had happened to her granddaughter, but someone had to be strong. She wanted to break down, but what good would that have done with Carmelo already in such a fragile state? After having a talk with Alex, Carmelo's mother finally knew that truth about things and understood why Carmelo and Summer had the bond they had. She understood his hurt all too well. She remembered the feeling only a few months prior when it was Carmelo’s body riddled with bullets. The thought of losing a child would break anyone, so she knew what her son was going through.
“Carmelo, please, son, get up off the floor. I have to step out to try Caiden and Alex again but I don't want to leave you here alone,” she said.
“Don't call that bitch,” Carmelo spat.
“She’s her mother. There's no way I'm keeping something like this from her. Now get up and take a seat in the waiting area. There is nothing we can do at this point but pray and wait for an update,” she said, stomping her foot in the process to let Carmelo know she wasn't going to ask him again.
Carmelo watched as his mother walked away from him. He shook his head at the thought of Alex showing her face at the hospital. He knew that she was going to pretend to be a distraught mother when in his eyes she didn’t have the right to. However, it wasn’t about her. It was about his heart that was lying on an operating table fighting for her life.
Slowly, he rose from where he was on the floor and solemnly walked toward the waiting area. He took a seat off in the corner, not wanting to be around anyone. Thoughts of losing Summer consumed him and made it hard for him to breath. Time slipped away and before Melo knew it, two hours had gone by and still no word. He reasoned in his mind that not hearing anything was good news. He’d rather sit on pins and needles than for the doctor to come out and tell him that she didn’t make.
“Any word yet?”
Melo looked up from staring at the ground and made eye contact with Alexandria. He scoffed and rolled his eyes in his mother’s direction. As if dealing with Summer’s incident wasn’t enough, he didn’t want to deal with Alex, too.
“Alex, save it. Do you even fucking care whether she dies or not?” he barked and rose from his seat.
“What you better do is sit that ass back down in that seat. Don’t come at her like that, Carmelo. Especially not at a time like this. Of course she cares whether or not Summer makes it through this. Let’s not go there today on the strength of my granddaughter. I don’t care how ya’ll feel about each other, put that shit to side,” Sheila stated.
She looked at the contempt on Carmelo’s face and the distaste he had for Alexandria was beyond obvious. She didn’t blame him, but she knew lashing out at Alex wasn’t going to help him cope with what had happened to Summer. They all needed each other in that moment, and the bickering was going to have to wait till another time.
Chapter Two
Summer had just got popped and Carmelo’s mind was racing something ridiculous. Summer; that girl right there was his heart. He finally understood what people meant when they said phrases like, “My whole world stopped,” because now he could relate to that type of pain and emotion.
“Where the fuck these niggas at?” exclaimed Carmelo as he stared through the windshield of his big boy SUV.
Staring out the window into the world was something Melo loved to do. Behind the tent, he could see outside but no one could see him. It was a perfect analogy for his life. It represented the way he stayed one step ahead of all of his competition in the game. Carmelo moved in silence and violence, just like the legendary bad boy credo said.
After numerous calls, it was obvious that Caiden wasn’t going to pick up his phone. Sometimes Carmelo questioned his twin’s loyalty towards his own family. If the shoe was on the other foot, Carmelo would be sure that he was accessible by whatever means were available. Phone, email, Facebook, Twitter, whatever; when there was an emergency, Carmelo was always able to be contacted. Caiden was on some other shit, though.
Carmelo knew that his brother might be able to dodge phone calls, but if Carmelo spotted him, there was no way he could escape a confrontation. That was the purpose of Carmelo’s driving through the city streets like a madman. He wanted to see people face-to-face and get some answers. Besides Caiden, Carmelo was also hell-bent on finding Shaq. Throughout his whole life, Carmelo had always relied on his gut instincts. Right now, his gut was telling him that something wasn’t quite right about Shaq.
Since day one, Carmelo had always had an unnerving feeling about Shaq. His character was questionable, and Melo had the strong suspicion that Shaq had something to do with Summer being laid up in a hospital bed and hooked to a million and one machines. If that turned out to be the case, things would get very ugly, very fast!
Carmelo whipped all over Brooklyn in record time. He had the truck bending corners and hopping curbs like it was nothing. He whipped from Flatbush, down through Marcy, past the Pink Houses until, finally, Carmelo saw a familiar face. It wasn’t Shaq, but the man Carmelo had the drop on was named Tyron.
Tyron was an older dude. He was some fake ass God-body, wanna be hustler, still living with his Moms ass nigga that ran up under Shaq. He was probably the man Lauryn Hill had in mind when she wrote the lyric, “The pretty face men claiming that they did a bid men, Need to take care of their three and four kids.”
Tyron was a straight sucker, and he was the perfect nigga for Carmelo to make an example of if it came down to it. Carmelo turned the volume down on his Uncle Murda mixtape and slowly lowered his driver’s side window. His initial thoughts were to drop his .45 out of the window and just start lickin’ off shots, but that was reckless. Maybe a 19-year-old Melo would have done something like that, but this version of Carmelo was smarter, wiser, matured, and much more calculated with his movements and decisions.
Instead of spraying up the block, Carmelo double-parked the truck and cut off his engine. Dramatically, Carmelo eased himself out of the truck. He had the presence of a great white shark stalking his prey and then emerging from under the ocean’s surface to make his kill. The only thing missing was the Jaws theme music. Instead, the everyday hustle and bustle of the Brooklyn streets provided the soundtrack for the impending confrontation.
“Ayo, Tyron! Lemme holla at you for a second, playboy,” said Carmelo sternly as he slammed the door to his truck shut behind him.
On one hip, Melo had the .45. On the other, he was strapped with the .38. Something Carmelo had learned long ago was never to rely on one gun. Any firearm was prone to jam, so having a backup was mandatory.
Lucky for Tyron, he heard Carmelo calling for him. If Carmelo had been forced to repeat himself, there most likely would have been a problem.
“What’s up, Ca...Car…Carmelo?” Tyron stuttered nervously.
“The tone in your voice already lettin’ me know that you know what’s up, fam!” barked Carmelo.
Like a wild animal, Carmelo could sense the fear flowing through Tyron’s veins. It was like a show on the Discovery Channel where a wolf was seeking out his prey. Part of Tyron wanted to turn and run, but he was in front of his boys. His male pride was boosting his ego somewhat, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Sum is laid up in the ‘spital right now fighting for her life, and I need to know who’s responsible for that shit!” continued Carmelo.
“Yo...yo...I don’t know nothing bout’ that, man. For real, for real. I ain’t got nothing to do with that situation right there,” said Tyron, coppin’ a plea and pr
aying that things didn’t get violent.
One thing that Carmelo had always prided himself on was being able to sense when someone was lying to him. It was a skill essential to survival in the dangerous street life that he led. At the current moment, Carmelo could tell Tyron was lying through his teeth.
“Oh, you confused, huh? Well, maybe this will un-confuse you, nigga!” yelled Carmelo.
Carmelo pulled the .45 off of his hip, took the safety off and cocked it back. He had just gone from 0-100 and shit had gotten really real! Tyron’s little crew scattered like project roaches exposed to a light. Before Tyron could get his Usain Bolt on, Carmelo had used his free hand to snatch up the collar of his Ralph Lauren rugby shirt.
“Let me know who is responsible for Summer gettin’ hit up!” Carmelo devilishly whispered in Tyron’s ear.
“I don’t know nothin’ bout none of that…” mumbled Tyron, fighting back the tears of pure fear that were forming in his eyes.
Carmelo had had enough. Words only expressed so much, but actions spoke volumes.
Whap!
Carmelo smacked Tyron upside the head with the .45! The butt of the burner caught Tyron right on his temple and knocked him off his feet like a Manny Pacquio punch. Carmelo straddled Tyron and trained the gun right between his eyes. By this time, the block had cleared out. There wasn’t a cop or a witness as far as the eye could see. If Carmelo wanted to, he could have taken Tyron’s life right then and there!
“One more chance. Tell me something. And it better be the truth,” mouthed Carmelo, as he stood atop Tyron.
Tyron was hurt, scared, and fearing for his life. He didn’t want to talk, but he had no option. With blood leaking from his face and clouding his vision, he finally mustered up the strength to provide the info that Carmelo wanted.
“It was that nigga Maliek. He did it. He pulled the trigger! Shaq paid that nigga a pretty penny to do it. I swear, Carmelo! It was Maliek. I ain’t have nothing to do with it,” confessed Tyron.
A Gangster's Dream 3 Page 1
