A Gangster's Dream 3

by Charmanie Saquea

  Carmelo shifted uncomfortably. He knew he would have to tell her eventually since he had never been one to lie to her about anything, but he didn’t want to do it considering the fact that she had just gotten out of the hospital. The smile on Monica’s face dropped when she realized Summer wasn’t happy to see her.

  “I’ll give you two a minute to talk,” she said before heading up the stairs.

  “Sum, Dream has been missing ever since the day you got shot. Someone has her, but I’m not sure who,” Carmelo said.

  “Missing?” Summer mumbled to herself. “You mean have her, as in kidnapped her?”

  “Yea, I know she wouldn’t just up and leave on no shit like that,” Carmelo sighed.

  Just talking about this shit had his head messed up. He had literally found the woman of his dreams just to have her taken away from him without a trace.

  “So instead of going out and trying to find her, you’re here shacking up with another woman. Not just any woman, but your ex at that?” Summer asked.

  Carmelo knew Summer had no problem speaking whatever was on her mind. He guessed that was a trait that she had gotten from him because he was the exact same way.

  “Chill, Sum. It’s not even that deep,” Carmelo said.

  “I can’t tell. You just told me that your girlfriend, the closest thing to a mother that I have, is missing, but she’s here. Please explain to me how it’s not that deep?”

  “First of all, Summer, remember who you’re talking to. You’re still a child so stay in a child’s place. Monica is here for moral support, nothing more,” he said.

  Summer wanted to say something else but she decided to keep her mouth shut; for now. She knew Monica didn’t want to console Carmelo. If that was the case, she could have consoled him over the phone from California. The part that was killing her the most was the fact that he allowed her to lay her head in the same house Dream was sleeping in weeks ago.

  Summer made it a point to keep her eye on Monica. Her dad was having a moment of weakness considering that Dream was missing, and she wasn’t going to allow her to take advantage of him. Miss Monica had another thing coming if she thought she was going to slither he way back into Carmelo’s life.

  Chapter Seven

  Trip had been laying low since everything went down with Summer being shot. He had sensed beef brewing between Shaq and Melo but he didn’t know that it would get as bad as it did. At one point, he fucked with Shaq heavy, but at the end of the day Carmelo was his boss and his loyalties lay with him one hundred and fifty percent. If it came down to it, he had no issue with choosing whose side he was riding for. Not to mention Shaquille’s adding Summer into their beef made Trip look at him completely differently. He wasn’t the type of dude who involved family members; shit just wasn’t his speed. If his beef was with you, that’s that; it’s with you.

  He was only making moves if Carmelo sanctioned it and since the last time they spoke, Melo gave Trip the okay to just chill out. Melo was focused on helping Summer get through therapy and recover back to her normal self. The streets had to take a back seat. Shit was too hot and Melo’s main focus was on getting at the niggas responsible for hurting his loved ones, getting his daughter back to one hundred percent, and finding his shorty. Trip had nothing but respect for that, because if the shoe was on his foot, that would be his main focus as well.

  Buzz, buzz, buzz

  The buzzing from his phone brought Trip completely out of the thoughts that were consuming him. He wasn’t even concerned with the chick that lay naked beside him. He reached over on the nightstand and grabbed his phone to find a text message from none other than Shaquille.

  Thinking of the devil, Trip thought to himself as he punched in his lock code to access the text.

  What up Trip? I need a favor. I’m out of town handling something but I need you to pick up some money from my shorty for me. Just hold it down till I touch back down.

  Trip laughed at the message. It was either the nigga didn’t give a fuck in the world about Melo knowing that he was responsible for having Summer shot or he didn’t know that Melo knew. Trip did remember Melo saying that he had put the fear of God in Tyron. Plus, he knew Tyron would never admit to Shaq that he gave up his and Maliek’s names, so yea, Shaq had to think that he was in the clear.

  Part of Trip wanted to decline and come up with some lame ass excuse as to why he couldn’t get the money but something was telling him to make the move. Never one to ignore his gut feeling, Trip texted Shaq back for the address before jumping up and slipping on clothes

  <><><><>

  Trip sat outside the crib that his GPS had led him to. Before getting out, he double checked the text message from Shaquille, making sure he had the right house. After being assured that he did, he killed the engine to his car and climbed out. As he walked up the walkway to the house, Trip checked the clip of his piece, making sure it was fully loaded. He knew better than to put shit past Shaquille; he had already shown that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Trip refused to get caught slipping.

  He waited patiently after ringing the bell twice. Just when he was about ready to pull back, one of the baddest chicks he had seen in his life answered the door in nothing but a short nighty and some fuzzy socks. Trip thought to himself that Carmelo and Shaquille always had a bad bitch. That’s one thing nobody could take from them.

  “So, you going to tell me why you ringing my bell all willy-nilly, or nah?” the female spat while placing her hand on her hip.

  “Shaq sent me.”

  “Oh, you Trip?” she asked.

  He nodded before she stepped to the side and allowed him space to walk in.

  “Let me go get that for you. They are upstairs counting it out now and separating what Shaq told me to give to you,” she said before heading to the stairs.

  She got midway before Trip called out, “Aye, can I use the bathroom?”

  “Yea, it’s down the hall second door on the….”

  Her voice trailed off as she got further upstairs and instead of shouting for her to repeat herself, Trip figured he would just go find it on his own. He walked down the hall and tried the second door on the left of him. When he opened the door, his stomach did somersaults and his mouth nearly hit the floor.

  “Dream,” Trip whispered.

  Dream jumped up from the fetal position she was lying in and scrambled toward the door. He took a step closer just to make sure it was really her but the closer he got, the more scared she became.

  “It’s me, Trip,” he announced so that she wouldn’t be afraid.

  An obvious wave of relief flowed over her but she didn’t move from against the wall.

  “Help me, please.”

  Trip thought about snatching her up and getting low, but he didn’t know how many people were upstairs and if they had guns or not. Dream clearly was in bad shape so he wouldn’t be able to move fast with her. He could risk her getting killed during the escape or come back with Melo.

  “I can’t take you out of here now. But I promise I’m coming back with Melo,” Trip told her.

  Dream didn’t understand. Maybe she did, but it just wasn’t what she wanted nor expected to hear. She thought she was finally being saved only to find out that he was leaving her to endure more pain.

  Trip moved closer and he felt a pain in his heart staring down at Dream’s battered body. She was still as beautiful as ever, but you could tell she had been through something.

  “I promise. You going home today, Dream. Trust me,” he said before backpedalling out of the room and closing the door.

  At that point, he didn’t even want to use the bathroom. He didn’t even want to wait for the money but he knew he had to so that nothing would be suspected.

  He rushed back into the living room with his poker face on just as the girl was coming downstairs with a duffel bag.

  “Here you go,” she said and handed him the bag.

  “Good looking.”

  Trip grabbed the bag and wi
thout saying a word, he hurried back to his car. He started up the whip and pulled off. After driving a few blocks, he pulled over and called Carmelo.

  Chapter Eight

  Carmelo was in his office when his phone started ringing. Noticing that it was Trip calling him, he hit the answer button and sat back in his chair.

  “Talk to me, Trip,” he said into the phone.

  “Boss, I have some information for you but I think I need to tell you face-to-face,” Trip said.

  Carmelo could tell by the urgency in his voice that it was something serious. Immediately, he sat up in his chair. “What’s up Trip?”

  “Naw, boss. In person,” Trip said.

  “Well come through,” Carmelo said before hanging up.

  While he waited for Trip to get there, Carmelo prayed that it wasn’t any more bad news. He was still trying to figure out who had Dream. He had his ears to the street but niggas were acting like they don’t know anything. Shaquille was missing in action, Caiden was in bitch mode and he just didn’t need no more shit to be worried about added to his plate.

  Twenty minutes later, he saw Trip pulling up on the security cameras. Walking down the hall, he went to check on Summer and she was sleeping peacefully. He jogged down the stairs and opened the door just as Trip was about to ring the bell.

  “What was so important that you had to tell me face-to-face?” Carmelo asked, getting straight to the point.

  “I just left Shaq’s house. When I was there, I asked to go to the bathroom and I opened the door to what I thought was the bathroom but—”

  “Yo, Trip, just get to the point!” Carmelo said.

  “Dream. That nigga has Dream locked up in a room and she don’t look too good. I wanted to take her out right then and there, but I knew neither one of us would have made it out alive. I told her I was coming back for her with you,” Trip explained.

  Carmelo stood there with an unreadable expression on his face. He just knew Trip was not telling him that the nigga he once considered to be his best friend was holding his girl captive in his damn house. He felt stupid wondering why he didn’t put two and two together. All of a sudden, he and Dream went missing right around the same time. The situation with Summer had his head so messed up that he wasn’t even able to think straight.

  “You sure?” Carmelo asked.

  “I’m positive, boss. I wouldn’t even come at you with no half-ass information, especially on something as serious as this,” Trip assured him.

  That was all Carmelo needed to hear. He knew Trip wouldn’t bullshit about something like this. “Show me the house.”

  Carmelo knew it that couldn’t have been Shaq’s old house because he had been past there and it seemed as if nobody had been there for a while. He shot Summer a text that she would see when she woke up, letting her know that he had to make a run real quick and Monica was gone for a few days so if she needed him, to call him.

  Trip sped all the way to the house he had just left from minutes before. The neighborhood they were in was one that was all too familiar to Carmelo. Not wanting to cause any suspicions, Trip parked down the street from Shaq’s house and pointed to it.

  “That’s the one she’s in,” he told Melo.

  Get the fuck out of here, Carmelo thought as he stared at the house he had spent plenty of time in. This wasn’t Shaq’s house that Trip was pointing out. This was Chrissy’s house.

  “I’m going in,” Carmelo said as he reached for his gun.

  Carmelo reached in his waistline for his gun as he eyed Chrissy's house. It was crazy to him how Shaquille always wanted what he had. He wasn't pressed about him messing with Chrissy because she really didn't mean shit to him, but touching Dream was where he fucked up.

  "You want me to go in with you?" Trip asked, ready to ride out if necessary.

  "Nah, sit this one out, Trip. This is personal," Carmelo said as he checked his clip, making sure it was full.

  Trip nodded his head in understanding. He knew that this was Melo's own personal vendetta. "Aight, I'll be out here waiting. Just go get your wife," Trip told him.

  "Of course. Just keep the car running," Carmelo said before getting out of the car.

  Carmelo casually walked down the street in the direction of Chrissy's house. To the unsuspecting, he looked like a normal person just walking in the neighborhood but the coldness in his eyes and the malice in his heart said otherwise. The closer he got to her house, the quicker his heart rate sped up. He was ready to kill and anxious to get to his girl.

  Walking up to Chrissy's door, he used the bottom of his t-shirt to put his hand on the knob. He shook his head at the fact that the damn door was unlocked. Dumb ass niggas, he thought as he pulled his gun out before proceeding. When he walked in, Chrissy was on the couch asleep. Pointing his gun at her face, he tapped her nose with the tip of it.

  "Wake up!"

  Chrissy jumped up, confused and disoriented. It took her a few seconds to get it together but when she did, she knew it was a wrap for her ass.

  "Where's Shaquille?" he asked. She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off before she had the chance. "You better think before you lie to me because I have no problem blowing off that pretty little face of yours."

  The ice dripping from his voice gave her a chill, along with the fact that he was tracing her face with the trip of his gun. "He left like twenty minutes ago before I dozed off," she said quickly.

  "Where's Dream?"

  Chrissy sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. She hated the fact that this nigga was trying to play Captain Save A Hoe to the very same bitch he had left her for.

  "Fuck you and that bitch, Carmelo! I—”

  POW!

  The rest of Chrissy's comments, right along with her thoughts, were on the back of the couch and throughout the room. Carmelo walked to the back of the house and opened every door.

  In one of the rooms, he found a baby sleeping in a crib. He remembered something about Chrissy supposed to be having his baby but he knew that was some bullshit because that baby looked like a damn replica of Shaquille.

  "Scandalous bitch," he mumbled as he left the room.

  He went to the next door to open it but it was locked. Knowing that was the room Dream was in, he stepped back and connected his foot with the door. The whole doorframe broke instantly.

  "AHHH!" Dream screamed as she crawled to the other side of the room in terror.

  She didn't know what the hell was going on. Carmelo had to pause for a second at the sight before him. Dream, his Dream, sat there, dirty, battered and horrified. He had so many murderous thoughts running through his mind that it was making him dizzy.

  "Melo?" Dream asked as if she wasn't sure it was him. "Carmelo!" she exclaimed as she tried to crawl to him.

  Hearing his name being called, Carmelo rushed over to her and swooped her up in his arms. Dream hugged his neck as tight as her weak body would allow her to.

  "You came for me," she said as she cried into his neck.

  Carmelo wanted to respond but he couldn't the only thing on his mind was getting Dream the hell out of that house. Leaving out the same way he came in, he carried Dream outside as she continued to cry.

  Trip noticed Carmelo and Dream coming his way so he pulled up to meet them. He jumped out of the car and opened the backdoor so Carmelo could place Dream inside. Instead, Carmelo climbed in with Dream still in his arms.

  Trip jumped in the driver's seat and sped off.

  "You taking her to the hospital, boss?" Trip asked.

  "I—”

  "The baby! Melo, the baby!" Dream said as she placed her hands on her stomach.

  "Baby?" Carmelo asked confused. He hoped like hell Dream wasn't saying that bum ass nigga raped her and got her pregnant.

  "I wanted to surprise you. I tried to fight for us," Dream said weakly.

  That really had Carmelo seeing red. Not only did they put his girl in danger, but he could have possibly lost his seed that he knew nothing about. All ove
r what, though? Some imaginary beef that niggas made up.

  "Trip, pull over and let me out. Take her straight to the hospital and act like you just found her on the side of the street or something. I already know the police are going to be snooping around and I don't have time for that shit. After they leave, Dream, you have them call me and I'll come up there," Carmelo instructed.

  "How you getting home?" Trip asked.

  "I'll take a cab."

  Doing as he was told, Trip pulled over to let Carmelo out. When Carmelo tried to get out, Dream refused to let him go. She had just made her way back to his arms and she wasn't ready to let him go yet.

  "Baby, I promise I will be up there to see you later. I just need you to go get checked out to make sure you and my seed are okay," Carmelo explained to her.

  "Okay," Dream whined.

  Carmelo softly kissed her lips before scooting out of the seat and laying her on it.

  "Take care of my lady, Trip," Carmelo told him.

  "No doubt, boss. She's in good hands like Allstate. Oh and look take that duffel bag. It’s the money Shaq had me pick up. It’s probably yours anyway," Trip stated.

  “Nah, keep it. Good looking. I owe you,” Carmelo affirmed.

  Trip gave Carmelo a head nod before pulling away from the curb. Carmelo stood there and watched Trip's car until it disappeared. He was feeling a little bad because he knew he should be by Dream's side right now but he’d had enough of the police and their questioning when Summer was shot. He knew going in there with Dream right now wouldn't be a good look. He didn't need the pigs trying to figure what he was into and why everyone he cared about was getting hurt. He would just wait for her phone call then go and be by her side.

  <><><><>

  A half hour later, Carmelo was walking through Dream’s hospital room door. He walked in slowly as he eyed her while she laid on her side with her eyes closed. He took note of the device hooked up to her stomach before a noise diverted his attention.

  Dream opened her eyes and watched him. “It’s the baby’s heartbeat,” she told him.

  “Word?” he asked with a little smile on his face.