Goodfellas Read online

  Goodfellas

  Carl Weber, Ty Marshall,

  and Marlon PS White

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Sibling Rivalry

  Chapter 1 - Faye

  Chapter 2 - Kayden

  Chapter 3 - Faye

  Chapter 4 - Jayden

  Chapter 5 - Jayden

  Chapter 6 - Faye

  Chapter 7 - Faye

  Chapter 8 - Lee Lee

  Chapter 9 - Faye

  Chapter 10 - Kayden

  Chapter 11 - Jayden

  Chapter 12 - Lee Lee

  Chapter 13 - Faye

  Love Seldom. Trust Never.

  Prologue

  Chapter One - The Early Years

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three - 2010

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six - Five Years Later

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight - 2017

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Bag Is In

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Urban Books, LLC

  300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109

  Farmingdale, NY 11735

  Sibling Rivalry Copyright © 2018 Carl Weber

  Love Seldom Copyright © 2018 Ty Marshall

  The Bag Is In Copyright © 2018 Marlon PS White

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be repro-duced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-9458-5519-1

  eISBN 13: 978-1-945855-20-7

  eISBN 10: 1-945855-20-7

  First Trade Paperback Printing August 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Submit Orders to:

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  Sibling Rivalry

  Chapter 1

  Faye

  “You can’t leave me now. You can’t . . .”

  Her voice cracked, and she was the only one who heard how much she meant the words she’d spoken. Faye Jackson’s heart was frozen over as she sat watching the only person who cared about her in the whole world as she lay still in a hospital bed, dependent on a breathing machine. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done in life, and Faye could feel her mental deteriorating right along with her heart. She grabbed the woman’s warm hand and put it to her lips.

  “Please don’t leave me, Mama,” Faye whispered. “Not like this. I haven’t been alone in so long. You’ve always been here since the beginning.”

  Hot tears streamed down her face as her words fell on deaf ears. It had been a week, and it was becoming evident to Faye that her mother, Chrishelle, wasn’t waking up anytime soon. She had no idea what had happened the night her mom was placed in the hospital. All she knew was what the detectives told her. That someone brutally attacked her, mugged her, and left her brain dead to the world. It just didn’t make any sense to Faye because her mom didn’t have any enemies. She was in her late forties, but she was healthy as an ox and sweet as she could be. Everyone in Bed-Stuy loved her, and she was definitely the heart of the apartment complex that they lived in. Faye kissed Chrishelle’s hand again wishing that she could hear her voice one last time.

  “Who would do this to you, Mama? You have never done nothing to nobody.”

  The silent tears turned into sobs, and soon, Faye’s vision was so blurry that she couldn’t see anything in the hospital room anymore. She’d quit her job at the bank the day before because her heart was so heavy. Being around people when she felt so detached from everything around her just wasn’t a good mix. All she wanted to do was be by her mother’s side while she still could.

  “Excuse me, uh, Miss Jackson?”

  Faye wiped her puffy eyes and looked up to see the tall, bald-headed detective that had been working her mother’s case. He was light skinned with brown eyes and a thin mustache. Detective Winthrop was his name, and supposedly, he was working his hardest trying to figure out who had harmed Chrishelle.

  “Detective,” Faye’s voice sounded exhausted when she acknowledged the newcomer.

  “Can I come in, or is this a bad time?”

  “No time right now is a good time,” Faye said, tucking her long curls behind her ears and sniffling. “But, yes, you can come in.”

  Detective Winthrop entered the room and took a seat in a chair that faced Faye on the opposite side of the room. He wore a dark tan suit with a pair of Stacy Adams, and in his hands, he held a folder. He watched Faye gently place her mother’s hand back on the bed before straightening up and focusing her attention on him. It was apparent that she’d been crying, and the tip of her nose was a bright red.

  “First, I want to apologize for the delay in the case, but I want you to know that we are trying our best to uncover what happened to your mother and how she got that bruise on the back on her head.”

  “Trying your best? It has been five days, and the only information you have is the same information you had when it first happened.”

  “Once again, Miss Jackson, I apologize. These things aren’t like the detective shows you watch on TV. In real life, these things take a little more time.”

  “I understand that.” Faye glared her light brown eyes in his direction. “But each day you come to me it’s the same thing. You telling me you’re sorry and me feeling empty all over again. Didn’t you say she was found outside of a nightclub? Don’t you find it odd that a woman her age would be outside of a club for the twenty-somethings? Have you talked to the owner of that place to see if you can get access to their security footage?”

  “Miss Jackson—”

  “Miss Jackson, my ass! Now I know what they think is going to happen by assigning you to her case. They think that because you’re a black man I am going to just trust you and believe you will have our best interests at heart. Huh, brotha? Well, you’re wrong. I don’t trust you, or any of the rest of you slimy motherfuckas. My mother ain’t shit but a black casualty to you, and you are just waiting for her to die so she can become another cold case. Coming from where I come from, I see this shit all the time. So don’t come in here with your empty-ass apologies. I bet there ain’t even shit in that folder, huh? You just brought it as a prop to make me think you’ve done something.”

  Detective Winthrop’s light face had slowly turned red while Faye was talking, but she didn’t care. He could get up and leave the way he came in for all she cared. Each time he came to her, she held on to a little hope that maybe he had some news about what had gone down, and each time she was disappointed in a major way. She didn’t know why she had even allowed him to come and do the same that day. Probably because she still had hope. She just wanted to understand why, out of all of the people in the world, why her mom? The d
etective cleared his throat and stood back to his feet.

  “As I said before, we are working our best, and hopefully, the next time we speak, I will have a breakthrough in the case.”

  “Whatever,” Faye turned her full pink lips up. “This case ain’t gon’ get you a meal with the mayor, so I doubt you are working that hard. Unlike me, you’re probably still getting a full night’s rest. Good-bye, Detective.”

  Detective Winthrop looked like he wanted to say something more; instead, he gave Faye a head nod and walked out of the room. She wished that he hadn’t even come to waste her time. Checking the clock on the wall of the room, she saw that the time was nearing six p.m. She reached toward her duffle bag of clothes beside her chair and grabbed the blanket that was neatly folded on top of it. She’d brought it from home. It was the one that was always at the end of her mom’s bed. The one they always curled up in when they watched movies and drank hot cocoa on the cold New York nights. Before she could get comfortable, there was another knock on the hospital door. When she looked up, she saw her mom’s physician, Doctor Boswick, standing in the doorway.

  “Hey, Doctor,” Faye greeted the average height, redheaded Caucasian man. He entered the room and began to check Chrishelle’s vitals. “Is there something wrong?”

  She didn’t like the way his brow was scrunched up or the concerned expression on his face. He had a chart in his hands, and he looked from it, to Chrishelle, and then back to Faye. Finally, he sighed deeply and looked directly into Faye’s eyes.

  “We have tried everything that we can for your mother, Faye. However, whatever she was hit with has caused so much damage that the only way for her to wake up is if she is going to do it herself.”

  “And what are those chances?”

  Doctor Boswick’s mouth became a thin line, and his expression turned grave.

  “Doctor Boswick, what are the chances that my mother will wake up on her own?”

  “For the past week, she has had no brain waves. She has not even been able to breathe on her own. If it was not for her being connected to that machine, she would have died days ago. I’m sorry to say that I think it may be in the family’s best interest to pull the plug.”

  “So that’s it? You’re just going to give up on her? It’s that easy?”

  “This type of thing is never easy, Miss Jackson. We never give up on any patients that are showing signs of getting better. And, well, your mother has not gone in the direction we would have hoped for. The damage is just too grave. We can continue to wait, but that can become very expensive to the family.”

  “So, what . . .” Faye felt her chest tighten and her jaw clench. Talking right then felt almost impossible. She took a breath and tried again. “So, what now? You need me to sign off on some papers that says it’s OK to take her off of life support?”

  “Yes,” Doctor Boswick said bluntly. “However, unfortunately, per policy and law, we would need someone who is related to the patient by blood to do so. And being as that you are adopted, we have contacted the next of kin to come and do so.”

  “W-what?” Faye’s eyes widened. “Who did you call? I’m all the family she has!”

  “Wrong!”

  Faye heard the voice and instantly cut her eyes at the doctor before turning them to the doorway. In entered a woman in her early thirties, and Faye knew her all too well. She had a red wig on her head and was dressed head to toe as if she’d just stepped off of the red carpet. Her face was beat to the gods, and she didn’t look to be a day older than twenty-five. Carmen Jackson was Chrishelle’s biological daughter. The biological daughter who had run off years back after emptying all of her mother’s accounts. She was the reason that Chrishelle and Faye had been stuck living in their run-down apartment in Bed-Stuy for longer than they had ever intended. Chrishelle had two accounts in her name, one for herself and one for Faye.

  Faye had been working since she was fifteen and had given every penny to her mother to put up for safekeeping. By the time she was twenty-two, she’d saved up $25,000. She was going to use it to get herself and her mother out of the hood. Put a down payment on a house in a nice neighborhood and use the rest to go back to college.

  Somehow, Carmen found out about the money and stole Chrishelle’s ID since they looked so much alike. People often mistook the two of them as twins. So gaining access to the money, she cleaned out the account and even took the $500 Chrishelle had in her own savings account and left town. No one had seen or heard from her in three years . . . well, until then. She couldn’t believe the doctor had contacted her of all people.

  “What is she doing here?” Faye sneered and jumped to her feet.

  She felt rage enter her heart and prepared to pounce. Carmen saw that, and at first, looked alarmed. But when she realized that the doctor was between them, she began to chuckle.

  “Well, hello to you too, sis. Always a pleasure.”

  “To who? Not me,” Faye turned back to the doctor. “You can’t be serious right now. Her? This woman stole everything from us. She is not to be trusted.”

  “Oh please! Are you still mad about that chump change?”

  “You stole $25,000 from us!” Faye tried to jump past Doctor Boswick to get at her, but he caught her just in time.

  “Ladies! Now is not the time!”

  “You’re the one who called her! She is not good to this family, and my mother would not be happy that she is here right now! Why would you not tell me that you were going to call her?”

  “We needed a blood relative and—”

  “I’m blood.” Carmen put her arms up in a voilà fashion. “Whether you like it or not, foster child. And the longer you keep her in here clinging to life, the more I’m going to have to pay in the long run.”

  “You owe it to her! I am not going to sit here and let you kill her!”

  “You have no choice.”

  “What are you doing, Carmen?” Faye asked, her voice desperate. “Do you think that there is insurance money in it for you? Because she made me the sole beneficiary right after you took everything from us.”

  “All the more reason to pull the plug,” Carmen glared at her mother. “Serves her right for loving a random more than she did her own daughter. Say your final good-byes, Regret. That woman is taking her last breath at midnight.”

  Without another word, Carmen turned around, whipping her thirty-two inch extensions in the air, and stormed out of the room. When she was gone, Doctor Boswick shot Faye an apologetic look before he too exited the room. Faye was defeated. She took a few steps back as the world around her began spinning.

  “No no no!” She shook her head and clutched her chest. “Please, God, no. Please, no!”

  She knew Carmen meant to make good on her word, and it felt like the world was falling apart around her. It felt like five nights ago when she’d first gotten the call saying that her mother was in the hospital. Her body had gone into shock, and she couldn’t even cry. Instead, she grabbed the blanket that she’d dropped to the floor and went to her mother’s bedside. She climbed on the bed since there was more than enough space, and curled up next to Chrishelle, placing the blanket over them. Like always. Except, that would be the last always.

  Chapter 2

  Kayden

  “Jayden! Oh my God, baby! Why are you doing this to meeee?”

  He listened to her call out as he pounded into her with his eight inches of thickness. He was completely naked, and his muscular, caramel-colored chest was wet from sweat. The two of them had been going at it for an hour, and, he had to admit, Treasure had some treasure between her legs. He had wanted her for so long, and when the chance finally arose for him to get at her, he did. She was a five foot five brown-skinned goddess. Her ass was fatter than a mug, and it looked even bigger when he gripped her small waist. His dick wanted to come badly as he watched her breasts bounce and brush against the bed under her, but he held it. He wanted to bring her to her fifth orgasm so he could see her body quiver on his shaft one last time.<
br />
  “Shut up, bitch, and arch your back,” his gruff voice commanded.

  “OK, daddy,” Treasure moaned and tooted her ass up even higher for him. “Baby, you’ve never talked to me like that before. I love it. Call me a bitch again.”

  “You dirty bitch,” he told her, smacking her left cheek so hard that it rippled. “You’re a nasty-ass bitch.”

  He thrust deep inside of her womanhood three more times, and that did the trick for them both. Right on command, Treasure’s screams turned to shrieks, and he felt her juices spilling down his legs. He grunted and threw his head back as he released his seed in her love canal. He should have pulled out and come on the soft, cream-colored comforter, but her pussy was so warm that pulling out was not an option. When he pulled out, all he wanted to do was fall on the bed next to her, but he had to get out of there.

  “Where are you going so soon? It’s only nine o’clock,” Treasure pouted. “I wasn’t good to you this time?”

  “Nah,” he chuckled to himself. “You were good. Great, actually. I just got some shit I need to handle, ma. That’s all.”

  Treasure smacked her lips and rolled her eyes at him as he got dressed. After he put on his Ralph Lauren T-shirt, he threw a tan hoodie over it before pulling his jeans on. He was moving fast and checking the clock on the wall. He’d definitely stayed longer than what he had wanted, but shorty was fine, could cook, and had good conversation. The smile on his handsome face never went away, and Treasure tossed a pillow his way.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just thinking that I understand why Jayden made you his bitch.”

  The confused look on her face was interrupted by a door opening and closing in the distance. He heard the front door of Treasure’s two-bedroom apartment lock and cursed silently in his head. He let out a big sigh, already knowing what was about to happen.