A Gangster's Girl (11 page)

“Lover? As in you-are-gay lover? Or you're just-curious-so-let's-try-this lover?” I asked.

“I'm not gay, C. Nor am I just curious. I love Arizelli and I am bisexual,” Carmin said with confidence.

Now, how am I supposed to tell Carmin that not only me, but me and Vegas both, had sex with her lover?
I pinched myself to see if I could wake from this nightmare.
Damn, I'm not dreaming. I'm awake.

“C, what's wrong? Do you have a problem with my sexuality?”

I guess I was thinking a little too long.

“Nah, girl. Do you? You're my girl. I'm going to love you regardless of your sexuality. But just explain why.”

“C, I could no longer continue being second. No matter how hard I tried or what I did, I was never going to be number one in my previous relationship. When Arizelli came along, I was number one. She loved me unconditionally, and she gives me all the attention and affection I could ever want or need.”

I reached over and hugged her. As we hugged, Arizelli licked her lips and blew me a kiss.

“It's cool, Carm. I love you, girl.”

“Thanks, C. I love you, too. Let's keep this just between us for now. Okay?”

“Okay.”

A while later, the club began to clear out, so we said our good-byes and went our separate ways.

“Rise and shine,” the maid said as she knocked on the door. Again, I was greeted with breakfast in bed. I ate the fruit as I thought about the previous night.

“Knock, knock.”

“Yes.”

“Good morning, honey. Can I come in?”

“Sure, Dad. Come on in.”

My dad came in and sat at the end of the bed. “We have a long day today. I want to start the day off with church service. Then, we'll eat about three. How does that sound?”

“That's fine, Daddy. I promised Carmin I would go to the Thanksgiving celebrity fashion show with her tonight, though,” I explained to my dad.

“Hey, I have tickets to that. Maybe your mother and I will go too.”

“That's stepmother, and I think I'd rather go with Carmin.”

With nothing left to say, my dad left and began to prepare for church.

Church service was long and boring. It was nothing like the down-home Baptist services that I was used to. I couldn't believe this woman changed everything about my dad, from his attire to his religion.

Dinner was served shortly after we returned from church. The table setting was beautiful. The room was dim, with candles lighting the table. There was enough food to feed a village in Africa for at least a month. At the table were my father and I, the wicked witch, and a few of her family members. My dad and I were outnumbered even in his own home. A pianist played classical music as we ate dinner and the butlers stood at each end of the table waiting to move on command. I found this all quite humorous.

“Darling, what is so funny?” the gold digger asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking to myself.”

“Why don't you tell the family about your little business you run in Virginia?” Like always, she was trying to make me look like I was nothing.

“If you are referring to the chain of laundromats I own, I will be more than happy to share,” I responded.

I told them all about how we started with only one facility that we remodeled and how in a matter of months we nearly owned one in each of the seven cities. The family seemed rather interested in my success. When I finished my story, blondie's mother stepped in.

“Oh my, that is a wonderful success story. I love to hear about underprivileged black kids who grow up and make something of themselves, like you and your father.”

My father must have seen the steam rise from my head because he quickly intervened. “Mother, you are out of line. My child has never been poor.”

That's it! All of them have pissed me off now! Dad was only offended by the suggestion that I was poor? What about the generalization of black people
? I thought as I tried my best to bite my tongue. Only five seconds passed, but I could no longer do it. I had to respond.

“I have had it with all of you! Dad, you are a poor excuse for a strong black man. You're the reason our black youth have no male role models. And to the wife and mother blondie, neither of you have ever accomplished anything in life. It's like you were raised to seek men who are well off so you can sit on your uneducated, Southern belle asses. I'm out of here. Dad, you can have your so-called
family
!”

I stormed to my room and immediately called Carmin.
The nerve of those people,
I thought as I dialed Carmin's number.

“Hello.”

“Carmin, it's C. Come get me, girl.”

“Okay. What's wrong?”

I told her all about the dinner conversation as I pulled out something to wear. I needed something cute yet funky, so I pulled out my black Manolo Blahniks, tight-fitting fatigue pants, and a black shirt designed by Carmin. The shirt emphasized my breasts and showed plenty of back and stomach. I made sure I pulled the drawstrings on the pants just above the top of the boot, and I threw on just the right accessories to complement the soldier theme.

“Ceazia!” My dad shouted as he stood at the bedroom door.

“I don't want to talk. Leave me alone.”

He entered the room anyway. He tried hopelessly to explain away the incident that had occurred during dinner. I ignored his weak excuses for his so-called family and continued to prepare for the night. My dad noticed my inattentiveness and became quite agitated.

“Do you hear me talking to you?” he asked angrily.

I could no longer take it. I had to tell my dad how I truly felt. I'd been holding my tongue for years and it was finally time to let go.

“Yes, father. I do hear you. I hear all the tired excuses you're giving for your family, for your actions, and for their actions. Well, I'm really not interested in any excuses. I'd rather know your reason for leaving me and mom. Or your reason for leaving me to fight on my own after college. You're quick to tell me that Vegas is not the guy for me, but he's the one that's been there for me for the last couple years. He's been doing all the things that you used to do. I don't know what happened dad, but you've truly changed and I really wish I could have my daddy back.” Those were my last words before grabbing my coat and heading toward the door.

My father did not respond. He just sat in disbelief with his head down. I guess he'd never taken the time to examine the affect the divorce had on me.

Carmin was out front in no time. I jumped in her truck and we headed for the plaza where the fashion show was being held. It was chaotic getting to the front row seat Carmin had reserved for me. I sat amongst Cobra and his crew once again. I was disappointed that Donovan was nowhere to be found.

“What up, C?” Cobra asked as he looked up and down my body.

“Chilling. What about you?” I sat one seat away from him. I refused to be right underneath his annoying ass.

The music blasted as the first model walked out. Carmin had really outdone herself this time. The outfits the models wore were the shit! I was so into the show I didn't even notice someone had taken the seat next to me.

“Whattem,” I heard a pleasing voice in my ear.

“Donovan. What's up, baby?”

“Ya save da seat 'ere for me, gal?” he asked as he licked his sexy lips. Just his presence was making me moist.

“Not exactly, but if you would like to sit here, that's fine.”

We continued to watch the show as the crowd went wild. In no time, the show was over and I headed to the back to meet Carmin. On the way, I stopped by the concession stand to purchase a dozen roses.

“You did great, girl!” I rushed over, gave her a hug, and handed her the roses. I had no idea Carmin was doing such great things with her career.

“Thanks, girl. I put a lot into this show. So you really enjoyed it?”

“Sure did,” a voice said before I could respond. To my surprise, it was Arizelli.

“Hi, baby,” Carmin said, excited to see her bisexual mate. They greeted each other with a small kiss.

“What up, Carm? That shit was hot!” Cobra said as he walked over with his entourage. I was really beginning to get irritated when Donovan caught my eye. I gave him my most seductive glance then turned to Carmin and finished our conversation. I was sure to give him just enough attention to turn him on, but not so much that I looked desperate.

It worked. He's on his way over
, I thought as Donovan walked toward me.

“Whattem,” he said in a sexy accent.

“Hey, Donovan. What's the deal?”

“Not much. Are me gal going to the dancehall tonight?”

“I think so. I'll have to see what Carm is doing.”

“Hope ta see ya dere,” he said as he walked away.

Just as I expected, we headed to Club Inferno after the show. This time the club was twice as packed as the night before.

“Hello, ladies. Right this way,” the bouncer said as he unhooked the velvet rope so that Carmin, Arizelli, and I could enter.

“I'm a hustler, baby. I just want you to know, it ain't where I been, but where I'm ‘bout to go.” We all sang to the tunes of Jay Z. Pharrell was really blowing up and putting VA on the map, so Carmin and I had to represent.

“Aaaahhhh . . . you can tell when they playing some old VA shit,” Cobra said as we walked over to the VIP section.

“Don't hate, nigga. Maybe if you have Pharrell drop some of that VA shit on your tracks, you'll go platinum,” I said playfully. We all laughed as we sat to order some drinks.

“I'll be right back. Nature calls.” Carmin excused herself to the restroom. Not thirty seconds had passed before Arizelli was moving her hand up my thigh. I grabbed her hand tightly and whispered through my teeth, “I don't know what you're trying to prove, but I'm gonna let you know up front ain't nothing jumpin'.”

“In due time, baby . . . in due time. Carmin said the same thing at first, now look at her,” Arizelli whispered back while grinning. Then she licked my earlobe.

I can't believe this bitch. She has some nerve,
I thought as I tried to keep my composure. It took all I had to keep from smacking the shit out of her. I immediately got up. I could no longer take it. I had to tell Carmin what was going on. I didn't care how she would respond. I had to tell her. I hadn't taken two steps before I was knocked off my feet. People were running frantically as I heard the gunshots ring out over my head.

The shots seemed never ending. I crawled under a nearby table to keep from being trampled. I sobbed softly as I waited for the chance to escape to safety.

“Come wit' me,” I heard Donovan say as I was lifted into the air. I didn't say a word as he carried me out through the side door. Outside the door, people were screaming, crying, bleeding, and searching for their loved ones. All the mass hysteria reminded me of 9-11. We rushed over to Donovan's car and jumped in.

“I have to find Carmin,” I said as I began to panic.

“No fear, princess. Her wit' dem man.”

I assumed ‘dem man' was Cobra. I decided to try calling her cell. The phone rang constantly, but there was no answer.

“Can you call Cobra? Carm isn't answering her phone and I want to make sure she's okay.”

Donovan called and got the same response; no answer. Now I really began to worry.

“Dere is much commotion. Dem can't 'ear dem phone.”

Donovan did all he could to relax me. “Come wit me to dem hotel. Dem be dere shortly,” he suggested.

For some reason, I felt safe with Donovan, so I agreed to go back to his hotel with him. Once we got to the hotel, the valet came out and parked the car. It was not until that moment that I realized the model of car Donovan was driving. I could have fainted.

Again, my face must have been screaming my thoughts because Donovan gave me a devilish grin as he said, “Me princess like dem car, aye?”

“It's nice,” I replied, trying not to seem too impressed.

Before heading to the room, we stopped in the hotel restaurant to grab a little to eat. We called Cobra and Carm's phones constantly. Eventually, my phone went dead.

“Can we go to your room so I can use your phone?” I asked. I was beginning to get tired, but couldn't even think of sleeping until I was sure that Carmin was okay.

Upon entering his room, I had immediately plugged my phone into the charger that I luckily placed in my purse before leaving home. Then, I called Carmin's phone again. This time her voice mail came on immediately. I didn't know what to think. We couldn't reach anyone. Cobra and Carm's phones must have both been dead.

All sorts of thoughts ran through my head. We tried calling Cobra's room, but there was no answer. Donovan even hit him on the two-way. Still there was no response.

“Why doncha take a hot bath? Relax ya'self,” Donovan suggested. Before doing so, I left a message on every phone. As he filled the tub with hot water and bubbles, Donovan called some of the other guys from their crew to see if anyone knew anything. He left the bathroom to give me some privacy while he continued to make some calls.

Once the bath was ready, I jumped in and turned on the tub jets for a more calming effect. It felt like a load was lifted off my shoulders as I soaked. Donovan brought in a glass of champagne for me to sip as I relaxed. The only information he could get was that a female was shot. No one knew who she was or her condition, but they did say they saw Carmin and Cobra leaving the club during all the commotion. After hearing that, I was able to relax. In a matter of seconds, I was asleep.

I woke to the sound of the phone. My head was spinning as I sat up to answer.

“Hello,” I answered in a cracked voice.

“C?” It was Carmin.

“Carmin! Where are you?” Her voice sounded weak and sad. I could feel something was wrong.

“I'm at Manhattan Hospital. I need you to come here right away,” she said.

“What's wrong? Where's Cobra? Didn't you get my messages? Are you all right?” A thousand questions ran through my head as I spit them out at her.