Carmen Read online

  But did she deserve to be shot because she chose to leave?

  There were too many unhappy people around the world, and she refused to be one of them any longer. Carmen didn’t want to die not being fulfilled.

  She refused.

  “What are the next steps then?”

  Casey hated to continue to probe her day in and day out, but something had to give.

  “When I get better, I’m going to rebuild me and Kniko’s relationship, file for divorce, do a vision board and get on track with making my dreams come true. I may even write a book or something. I don’t know,” she shared with him.

  Casey grimaced at the unrealistic sound of her plans.

  “Can I offer a suggestion?”

  She rolled her eyes, “Sure.”

  “How about we scratch the high school idea of what your goals should look like with glitter and paint and get right to them?”

  He then added, “Your son is young, but not a baby. Every day is another day you’re letting slip by you. Go get your kid.”

  Casey took a deep sigh before concluding, “Divorcing him should’ve been the first thing you did time you came home but it’s okay. Good thing your big brother is a lawyer and he handled it.”

  He spoke of himself in third person.

  Sarcastically, he added, “You’re welcome.”

  He slid her a folder which appeared out of nowhere.

  She put the sandwich down and flipped open the folder, scanning the documents with an opened mouth.

  Carmen gasped, “You filed?”

  “Yeah, so sign here and here, and I’ll mail them to the prison.”

  Honestly, she was thankful because she wasn’t sure when she would’ve gotten around to doing it.

  She didn’t bother to check if everything was correct, she trusted Casey; wholeheartedly.

  “What are big brothers for?” he gave her a meek smile.

  She rushed into his arms and wept silently.

  Every time the devil tried to convince her that she was alone in all this an angel of God came to remind her that she would never walk through any trial or tribulation by her lonesome. Not a valley either, without the armor of God.

  Not only did she have the Big Homie walking with her, but He sent angels in the form of family to protect her.

  “Can you promise me one thing?”

  She nodded her head before even hearing what he had to say.

  “You can’t let this defeat you, Carm.”

  She refused to do that. He didn’t have to speak on it because Carmen was about to get her life together. God didn’t spare her for nothing.

  “Give yourself a deadline to mourn, be depressed, sad…all of that shit. Get it out. Get over it, then we’re not looking back, you hear me?”

  She told him, “Yes, I promise you I’m not looking back. The last eight years are in my rearview mirror, bro.” She meant every single word.

  η

  “Babe.”

  Moses swore his wife only called his name when she knew he was knee-deep in work. Any other time, she was working and tending to their sheep.

  He was going through a contract for the umpteenth time. Yes, he had a slew of attorneys.

  Yes, they were paid by the hour.

  Yes, they’d most likely went through the contract to the best of their ability, but Moses would never be too busy to make sure his properties were straight.

  “Bae.”

  She had the nerve to use the intercom this time.

  He took a deep breath knowing she couldn’t hear him, “Hell you want girl?” he mumbled under his breath as he flipped through the pages with a red pen.

  Stifling a yawn was unsuccessful.

  He hoped dinner was almost done because as soon as he finished the contract, he planned on eating and getting in the bed. Daddy was tired. On top of traveling all week and rushing home to make it to his daughter’s piano recital, sexing his wife and catching a basketball game with his buddies, he still had three meetings with potential clients and sponsors for his new business venture. His life rarely caught a break and sleep was inevitable.

  He was doing better with finding balance, all he needed to do now was get his diet together.

  Moses did whatever worked for him at the time.

  Teka made her way to his office and asked her husband, “Mo, really?”

  “What?”

  For added measure he picked up the contract to show her that he was indeed, in the middle of something. Nine times out of ten, Teka didn’t want shit. He knew his wife well.

  He didn’t mean to give her attitude but damn…. he was working. His plan was to knock this out so he could spend the rest of the night laying up with her fine ass…until he started snoring. His cuddling time was at a max of seven minutes. Their Serta mattress did what it had to do and that was provide him a peaceful sleep.

  “TURN ON THE NEWS!” she shouted.

  He shook his head at his lil’ momma as he picked up the remote, knowing that if she brought her wobbly self all the way to his office that whatever was on the news had to be important.

  “It’s probably off by now,” he said to himself.

  Turning to Channel 2 as his wife requested and putting the remote on top of something on his desk, Mo went back to scanning over the almost seventy-page document.

  “Breaking News…we’re reporting again that the death of a man that many knew as “MONEY” has been confirmed. Sources say that he was in the middle of a park passing out food as he always does on Sundays when someone walked up to him in broad daylight and shot him in the face four times. The shooting was two hours ago and there has already been an outpour not only in his hometown of Atlanta, Georgia but New York, which is where he had become a KING. We are gathering more accurate information and will be back at seven with more. Back to you, Sondra.”

  Moses dropped the red pen as his heart crashed into the bottom of his Nike joggers.

  He had just run into Money…with Teka. That was why she made him turn on the news.

  It took him quite some time to register the news, it wasn’t until he checked his cell phone and saw several missed calls from his guys and associates. Social media was going crazy. Money was well-respected in the game, not as a musician or an artist but simply being a real nigga.

  He mustered up the strength to leave his office and join his family for dinner.

  Teka stood immediately when he entered the dining room.

  “Baby, we just saw him,” he murmured.

  She told their children, “Eat so y’all can bathe and get in the bed. Me and daddy will be back.”

  “Daddy crying?”

  Teka nodded her head, never being one to sweep anything under the rug with her kids. That’s where her family messed up.

  “Yes, he lost a very close friend today. We’re going to pray for them tonight.”

  She took her husband’s hand and walked him away from the worried and questioning eyes of their kids.

  “You okay?” she knew that he wasn’t… but still, she had to ask because she knew how sensitive and fragile her husband could be when it came to unexpected news.

  Moses did well with things being at one pace. He preferred steadiness. Anything that knocked off his perfect schedule had the potential to fuck him up mentally.

  “It’s going to be alright. Want me to book you a flight?”

  Teka was his everything. She kept him sane. She was his balance. His forever love.

  What would he do without her?

  As tears fell down his face, he nodded his head.

  “Okay, I’ll book you a flight and pack your bag.”

  Before she could walk off, he grabbed her hand.

  “I want you to go with me,” he needed her right now.

  Teka wanted to protest. She had a busy week.

  He kissed her on the nose, “Who am I without you?” he whispered to her.

  They shared a warm embrace and then he returned to dinner with his kids while mommy made ever
ything happen. As she always did.

  η

  One blunt after the other. That was all he could do right now. Roll and smoke. Then roll some mo’. The white Runtz mixed with a birthday cake strand of marijuana was getting the job done. Numbing the pain. The tears didn’t stop coming neither did vomit. If he wasn’t smoking and crying, he was shitting and throwing up. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his brother’s smile.

  This was an assassination.

  A tragedy.

  But what it was gon’ end up being was a massacre once he concealed his emotions.

  Until then, he was one crying ass nigga.

  Neezy lost his brother.

  His mother fucking heart.

  His phone died two days ago. It’d been two days since someone took his brother’s life.

  He didn’t run to social media to pour his heart out. In fact, Instagram was the last thing on his mind. He had lost a very big part of him. So who the fuck could manage typing out something heartfelt to confirm what everyone already knew.

  He was hurting.

  Social media and everyone else who had been trying to get in touch with him could kiss his ass right now.

  If they couldn’t go talk to God to bring his brother back, there wasn’t anything any one could say to him.

  The view before him was a beautiful one and it was his big bro that convinced him to cop the condo in the skies.

  “You’re twenty-two years old. Grow up nigga. How long you gon’ keep staying in hotels?” Money posed a serious question.

  “Why you talking so loud?” he scolded his big brother.

  Money laughed heartily, “Nigga, they don’t care. You gon’ get it or not?”

  Neezy looked around the two-bedroom condo located in downtown Atlanta. If he copped it he could walk to all his favorite restaurants and kick back on some cool shit. The rooftop had a pool and a few fire pits and grills. Shit that he didn’t have growing up but had worked hard enough to enjoy it now.

  “How much you got?”

  Money was always in his business.

  “Uh, I’m four pockets full,” his cocky self, grabbed his jeans to let his brother know that he for sure had it on him.

  Money shook his head at his brother’s unbeknownst ignorance.

  “You need to get a bank account...ghetto shit.”

  “Sir, he’s getting it and he is paying the rent up for the year. Can we repaint the kitchen? I saw where they went over it but whoever y’all hired did a horrible job.”

  A year….

  Neezy’s neck spun around, “Who paying this shit up for a year? I don’t even know if I’m going to be alive in a year!” He spoke nothing but the truth.

  He was knee-deep in the streets. Migrating through the trenches...

  “Don’t ever say that shit again. It’s power in the tongue, what I tell you about that?” he shook his head. Money wanted so much for his brother. He knew he needed to sit his wild ass down and talk to him.

  “Yeah whatever nigga. I’ll pay six months but that’s it.”

  He forgot to ask how much was the rent anyway.

  “Nehemiah, I will handle the other half.”

  On the low, he still spoiled him, but they never discussed it.

  Money only called him by his government when he was being serious.

  “I just want you to have a roof over your head. It’s called stability. Home is where the heart is. This isn’t for your hoes and your lame ass friends. No one should know where you lay your head. It’s for your own peace of mind.”

  He’d been recalling all kinds of memories over the past forty-eight hours. He was so fucked up that he dropped the bottle of Dusse' along with the blunt he was smoking on and began to sob uncontrollably. Who would he be without his brother? A lost mother fucking cause.

  Two

  Healed, but still a work in progress. – Jhene Aiko

  5 YEARS LATER

  “The Showroom is an haute couture fashion house located in downtown Los Angeles, California. Carmen Kincaid, mastermind behind the pin and needle, is known for her exclusivity and keen eye for mixing fabrics that most designers and stylists wouldn’t dare to put together. She goes there. Every single time. In only her third year of business, she has managed to not only secure her place in the Fashion World but has made room for new designers to follow in her footsteps. Within the first five minutes of my time at the private showroom, I was immediately greeted with a glass of the finest gin and was asked to remove my shoes. After doing so, bedazzled socks were given to me. My visit lasted an hour and it was the most expeditiously pleasant shopping experience I’ve ever had. We should’ve known when we saw Carmen Kincaid hanging with the Who’s Who, that she was someone to keep an eye on. She’ll be mentioned among the greats in no time. To receive an invitation to visit The Showroom was an honor and I can’t wait to stop by again.”

  Carmen read the article over and over again. She could probably recite it with her eyes closed if someone asked her to. She clutched her iPad in her hands, before gliding her finger to the top of her screen to send the article to the printer. As soon as she came back to her senses, she was going to frame the article for everyone. Her family who supported her, friends who kept her lifted in prayer and every shopper thus far who told her that The Showroom was the best concept they ever heard of.

  She blinked back her emotions before saying fuck it and let them fall down her face.

  These were tears of joy. Her hard work had paid off. The Showroom was getting recognition. She refused to use the word “finally,” because she believed that everything had to happen within the right timing. She didn’t knock those who were overnight successes but knew that her path would be different. She didn’t mind putting in the time needed to make her dream come true. Her vision was now more than a scrambled prayer in the middle pages of her Bible. Every morning, she was granted the opportunity to wake up and do what she loved to do. The Showroom was the place to be if you were looking for fashionable threads for RENT.

  Carmen came from money but had always lived on a budget. She loved to look nice and that’s where the struggle often came in. While she tried to figure out what direction she was taking her dreams in, somehow, she rearranged her plans and that’s how The Showroom was created.

  Three years later, business was booming, and she was seriously just getting started. She had so many ventures she couldn’t wait to dive into. Carmen was the ultimate creative maven. She’d managed to become prosperous strictly due to being in the right place at the right time. She was a stylist for two years for the sole purpose of building her clientele and getting her name out there. Carmen always had a plan. Her goal was to meet people, in which she did by using her brother’s long and well-connected list of friends. After styling tons of celebrities, she caught her big break when she styled Mahogany who at the time was an up and coming artist. All it took were a few red-carpet appearances landing Mahogany on the Best Dressed list for all the major blogs and magazines. From there…it was on and her reputation began to speak for itself.

  From a stylist to birthing The Showroom, she was truly living out her dreams. The tri-level home turned into a fashion house was something that had never been done before. She was working on securing a building in New York. Atlanta, Charlotte and Miami were long-term goals as far as location. The clothes were exclusive, some she even designed herself but were mainly top-notch labels. With the signing of some paperwork and a legit card on file, you could rent the runway, literally. How she managed to keep the scammers out and running off with her items was that The Showroom was invitation only. The marketing guru in her squealed whenever she sent out a round of gold envelopes or airmail. Carmen loved the exclusivity of her business and it would stay that way for years to come.

  The article was an answered prayer and confirmation that she was indeed, on the right path. Things truly came together for the greater good.

  Five years ago, she was still trying to find her way back to he
rself after being shot by her now ex-husband.

  She’d been through some things and it was only the grace of God, that she was still here, smiling and at peace... The song, Still Standing, written by popular R & B artist, Monica was the soundtrack of her life.

  She buried her father and thought that it was going to send her down a deep and dark hole of depression, but it didn’t. The relationship that she had with her son was so weird, and even after doing therapy together, they still hadn’t figured it out. She was no more than a babysitter and a provider to him, and it pained her every day. Carmen knew that he blamed her for his father being in prison and it hurt her even more when she dropped him off to the airport every other weekend so that he could fly home to visit his dad.

  The balance of being successful in your career yet struggling in your personal life had been somewhat a difficult one. She had a bad habit of dwelling more on the areas in which she was weak versus the ones that she strived in. However, today, was a good day and she wasn’t going down the rabbit hole of negativity.

  The short but power-packed article would be released in a few hours and she was more than ready for the doors of opulence to swing open.

  She put her iPad down on her Safaviah gold butterfly desk and grabbed her cell to see what was available for her to grub on UberEATS. She then changed her mind that quickly, after her accountant told her she was beginning to spend an insane amount of money on eating out. Carmen decided that she would leave work early and go to the grocery store so that she could cook dinner tonight.

  Kniko was spending the summer with his grandparents and he seemed so relieved when she told him he could leave the day school let out.

  She made him promise to call her every day and in the almost two weeks he’d been gone, he’d failed. He only picked up his phone four times to talk to her. It seemed as if he rather not hear her voice but without much hesitation would shoot her a text. She didn’t know what she did to him and wished that he would communicate it so that they could resolve the issue. It didn’t feel good knowing that he most likely hated her and blamed her for the imprisonment of his father. Carmen sometimes felt like she couldn’t win for losing when it came to Kniko, but she refused to give up. Regardless of what he may think, he was the greatest thing that ever happened to her, no matter who his murderous ass sperm donor was.