A Gangster and a Gentleman Page 3

  All of the cars were gone. That’s when I knew exactly what had happened to my fucking car. I slumped down atop the garden-tools box. My legs were too weak to stand. “How did he . . . ,” I whispered, holding my head in my hands. I had been home since the day he’d left me. I had not heard Richard come like a thief in the night and take away my car and both of his. He must’ve used his garage keys and not the opener or else I would’ve heard him. Then again, we lived in a million-dollar estate that was over 12,000 square feet. Our bedroom was at the back of the house; I would’ve never heard him as I lay in my bed depressed and distraught crying so much that at times I couldn’t even breathe.

  “Arrghhh!” I screamed, throwing my shades across the garage. I jumped up from the toolbox and pulled out my cell phone. My first instinct was to call Richard and curse him out, but I had something better for him. He wanted to play dirty, so I was going to join his game.

  “Yes, I need a car at . . .” I huffed out my address. I couldn’t stand still as I waited for the car service to pick me up. As I climbed into the back of the Lincoln Town Car, I could feel the adrenaline surging through my veins. “You wait, Richard Goldman. You will regret this shit,” I mumbled, drumming my nails on the door armrest. The driver looked at me strangely through the rearview mirror. “Just drive! And hurry the fuck up,” I snapped at him.

  By the time I reached Richard’s office building, I had thought of so many evil things I could do to him that I almost forgot to hand the driver my credit card. I fumbled in my bag and handed him my debit card. I tapped my foot anxiously as I waited for him to swipe my card. “What is taking so long?” I snapped. “Swipe the shit and let’s go!” The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror. He looked shaken, scared even.

  “Mrs. Goldman, I’m sorry. This card is declined,” He handed me my card.

  My face grew dark and folded into a scowl. “That’s impossible. Try the shit again,” I barked, banging on the back of the seat. “I don’t have time for games. Are you sure your machine is working? I have plenty of money in the bank. There is no way my card would be declined,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “I tried it about ten times.... It is declined,” he said.

  He looked scared as hell. It didn’t sway me at all. I was too pissed to even handle it. I dug around in my bag and handed him three more cards. “Here! See, I have fucking cash in the bank!” I screamed as I threw the cards at him over the seat. He looked at me like I was crazy and started swiping all of the cards.

  “Look . . . you can look at the machine yourself,” the driver said. “All of these cards are declined as well. Mrs. Goldman, just pay with cash and we can forget about it.”

  I felt flush with embarrassment. I never carried cash. I didn’t have anything on me except my debit cards and credit cards. “Just wait right here. My husband’s law firm is right through those doors. I will get some cash and come back,” I said feeling defeated.

  “I can’t really wait, Mrs. Goldman. . . . Is there someone you can call to come outside and give you the cash?” the driver said.

  I could tell he didn’t trust me and he was irritated. “You’re just going to have to wait!” I snapped, grabbing the door handle roughly and rushing out of the car.

  “Mrs. Goldman, I’m going to call the police!” the driver yelled to my back.

  “Oh, shut the fuck up and wait,” I mumbled under my breath. This whole thing was humiliating enough; I didn’t need his ass threatening me.

  I stormed into Richard’s office. As soon as I stepped in, his assistant, Deana, stood up like she had a fucking spring in her chair. A look of horror came over her face as if I were Freddy Krueger. Deana’s mouth went into a perfect O. She was clearly shocked as shit to see me.

  “Melody . . . um . . . hi . . . um . . . ,” Deana stuttered as I continued past her. She couldn’t get from behind her desk fast enough to block my path to Richard’s office. “Melody, you can’t. Wait! Don’t go in . . . ,” Deana yelled at my back.

  It was too late. I had made a beeline for the door, and there wasn’t a fucking soul who could stop me.

  “Richard!” I screamed as I damn near kicked in his office door. I froze as soon as I stepped over the doorsill.

  “Melody . . . I tried to tell you,” Deana huffed from behind me.

  I saw that bitch right there before my eyes. My heart felt like it had exploded in my chest.

  “Ohhh, baby!” Christina Cox cooed. Her bare back was to me, and her legs were gaped wide open. Richard’s face was buried between Christina’s legs, and her head was thrown back in ecstasy. The scene almost made me faint. I doubled over for a quick second, but suddenly I was filled with a white-hot rage that I couldn’t control.

  “Richard, you fuckin’ piece of shit,” I growled as I lurched forward.

  “Oh my God! How did she get in here?” Christina screeched, jumping up off the desk. They had been so into their shit that they hadn’t heard me at first.

  “Melody!” Richard shouted as he jumped up, his face wet and disgusting. I was seeing nothing but red. Christina tried in vain to cover herself.

  I was on her within a few seconds. “You home-wrecking bitch!” I spat as I grabbed a handful of her naturally long, silky hair. I yanked her toward the floor. Her titties and ass were splayed out on the burgundy carpet that I had helped Richard pick out for his office. “You wanna fuck my husband, huh, bitch?” I yelled as I punched her in the face.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Mr. Goldman!” Deana wailed. She was crying.

  “Get off of her, Melody!” Richard barked as he grabbed me around the waist. I kept a firm grasp on Christina’s hair, so each time Richard pulled me, I pulled Christina’s hair. I was trying to rip that bitch’s hair completely out of her scalp.

  “Aggh! Help me! She’s ripping my hair out!” Christina belted out.

  “You damn right, bitch! You fuckin’ traitor! I was the one who helped get you hired. I treated you like a sister, and this is what you do? You fuck my husband and ruin my fuckin’ marriage?” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Tears of hurt and anger started involuntarily pouring out of my eyes. I slammed my fist into Christina’s face again.

  “Let her go, Melody! Deana, call security!” Richard yelled. He was trying with all of his might to pull me away. He wasn’t strong enough to handle the strength I had acquired from the adrenaline rush. I started bucking against him, still keeping a tight grasp on Christina’s hair.

  “Richard, let her go so she can let me go. Please!” Christina begged.

  I slammed her body again. She was hollering like I was killing her, which is exactly what I wanted to do to her ass. Richard finally let me go. I swung Christina around by her hair and punched her in the face again. This time blood sprayed out of her nose and onto my clothes.

  “Help me, Richard,” Christina choked out.

  Richard didn’t touch me again. Like the fucking punk he was, he had to call in his guard dogs. I finally felt at least four security guards bearing down on me.

  “Let her go, Mrs. Goldman,” one of the guards commanded. The other barrel-chested guard pried my hands off of Christina and lifted me off my feet.

  I started kicking and screaming. “Richard! You and your bitch will pay for what you did to me! You motherfucker!” I screeched.

  “Get that crazy bitch out of here,” Richard hissed.

  All I could see in his eyes was pure hatred for me.

  “This is not over, Richard. You will not get away with what you’re doing to me. You will reap what you sow, motherfucker,” I continued to scream at the top of my lungs. I kicked and flailed my arms like a wild animal. The security guards carried me out of Richard’s office, but it wasn’t easy. I was putting up a fight that surprised even me. “All of you will be sorry. I helped build this fucking firm. You can’t get away with this, Richard!” I screamed through my heartbreak and devastating embarrassment.

  They tossed me out of the doors. I went tumbling to the ground lik
e a piece of trash. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Goldman, but you will not be allowed back on the premises,” one of the guards said as he prepared to shut me out.

  “Fuck you. I built that firm. All of you will pay,” I screeched, lifting myself off the ground. Just as I turned around, I was met by the Virginia Beach police. Three officers were walking toward me, looking like they were ready for battle.

  “Oh, now he called the cops on me too?” I said, trying to straighten out my rumpled clothes. That’s when I noticed the car service driver right behind the police officers.

  “Are you Mrs. . . . um . . . Melody Goldman?” a tall, white officer asked as he read from his memo book. I eyed him evilly and shot the car service driver the look of death.

  “Why do you need to know?” I asked, my voice cracking and shaky.

  “That is her,” the car service driver said, pointing in my direction.

  “Mrs. Goldman, you are under arrest for theft of services,” another officer said as he grabbed my arm. I tried to dip away from him, but I wasn’t fast enough. He had latched on to my arm with a death grip.

  “What? You can’t do this! Wait, I can go get the money from the bank,” I hollered, trying to yank my arm out of his grasp. It was too late. They had all put hands on me already. I dropped down to the ground and began fighting again. They were too strong. Within seconds they had my hands pulled roughly behind my back, and I was being carried like a slaughtered animal into the back of the patrol car.

  “Every fucking body will pay for what has been done to me. Everybody!” I screamed, and began to cry. It was like I was caught in the worst nightmare and couldn’t wake up. I could not believe how drastically my life had changed within a matter of days. I had gone from sitting on top of the world to being in the pits of hell.

  3

  “Ms. Goldman?” a police officer said from the other side of the holding cell bars.

  I jumped to my feet. “That’s me,” I said, anticipation in my voice. I was praying Richard had had a change of heart and was there to get me out. I had been told if I paid the fine, I could get out of that jam, and they would consider dropping the disorderly conduct charges they were throwing at me for punching and kicking the police officers.

  “You get your one phone call,” the officer said dryly.

  My shoulders slumped in disappointment. No such luck. I was quickly aware that Richard hadn’t had a change of heart at all. I just had a phone call. My mind was racing a mile a minute thinking about who I would call to get me out of this jam. There was no way I could’ve called any of my friends, who were all wives of doctors and lawyers. I got stomach cramps even thinking of their reactions to me telling them I was locked up. Oh, I would’ve been the talk of the town. Those bitches probably would’ve had a dinner party just to discuss the fact that I had gotten arrested. I shook my head in despair, concluding that those fake-ass friends were not an option. There would have just been too much explaining to do about my situation. I wasn’t ready to face the fact that my husband had left me in such a disrespectful way, much less tell those high-horse-riding bitches my business. As I contemplated my options, I realized I had no one outside of my life with Richard, except for my sister Paulette. I stood at the phone, frozen with a mixture of fear and apprehension. Paulette’s face came into focus in my mind’s eye.

  “Goldman, are you going to make your call or what? If not, let me take you back to the holding pen,” the officer barked at me.

  I jumped into action. “N-no . . . I’m going to make the call,” I stammered. That settled it. Paulette was my only hope. I barely remembered Paulette’s number. I hadn’t spoken to her in over six years. She and I were never really as close as sisters should have been. That was all thanks to my evil-ass mother. She always drove a wedge between my sister and me by blatantly favoring Paulette over me. My mother used to tell my sister I was ugly and she was beautiful. She would buy Paulette dolls and treats, while she didn’t buy me anything. She would make Paulette tease me with her new things too. I would suffer in silence, hurting deep down inside. As a kid, I secretly hated Paulette because of how much my mother loved her. Paulette grew up thinking she was superior to me. Sometimes we would get close, but if my mother saw that, she would work her way back to making Paulette and I archenemies.

  When I married Richard and we became well-off, I basically turned my back on my sister. I had already stopped fucking with my mother way before Richard came along, but I had always tried to keep in touch with Paulette. After Richard, I just poured all of my time and energy into him. I was aware that Paulette was struggling to pay for college and I told her in no uncertain terms to deal with it. I was only doing to her what my mother had done to me. Now I was sorry. None of it had been either of our faults.

  I dialed the last number I could remember for Paulette. All along, I was silently praying. “Please be the same number, please, please,” I whispered as the line rang on the other end. After the fourth ring, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. My heart was hammering. Paulette was my last-ditch hope; if she didn’t answer or had changed her number, I would be doomed. “C’mon, c’mon,” I chanted under my breath as I held the phone tightly.

  “Hello,” Paulette breathed into the phone, as if she had been sleeping. A hot wave of relief washed over me and I exhaled.

  “Hi, Paulette!” I said with fake excitement, my voice rising three octaves. I had never been so happy to hear her voice in my life. I didn’t want to sound distraught just yet, but the feeling was definitely there.

  “Who is this?” Paulette grumbled.

  Shit, I had forgotten we hadn’t spoken in so long that she might not have recognized my voice. I closed my eyes tightly.

  “Oh goodness . . . it’s Melody. Your sister,” I sang, trying to sound as pleasant as possible. I really wanted to just melt from embarrassment. My own sister didn’t recognize my voice because my dumb ass had not called her in so long.

  “Who?” Paulette groaned.

  “It’s me, Melody, your big sister. You forgot me already?” I replied, anxiety lacing my words. I let out a short chuckle, although my voice was filled with uncertainty and anxiety.

  “Yeah . . . ,” Paulette said hesitantly.

  “Look, Paulette, I know you haven’t heard from me in a while—” I started.

  She quickly cut me off. “A while? A while? Try almost ten years!” Paulette snapped. I could tell she had sat up in her bed. I could just imagine the scowl she was wearing on her face too.

  I laughed nervously. “I know, right? It’s been too long. I can explain when I see you. Listen, I don’t have much time. Something has happened and I need your help,” I rambled, the words slipping out like rushing water. I could hear Paulette sucking her teeth and blowing out air like she had sprung a leak.

  “Please, Paulette. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency,” I pleaded, on the brink of tears.

  “That’s what I’m saying. You’re only calling me because you need something. Same ol’ Melody,” Paulette snapped.

  I could tell she was getting ready to hang up on my ass. “Wait! Please, Paulette. If you just come get me, I promise to explain everything. I promise to make it up to you, Paulette. Right now is not the time to bring up the past. I would do it for you. I swear I would. I’m sorry for everything, but now is not the time.... You’re all I have,” I croaked out between sobs. I just couldn’t hold the tears back another minute. “I’m in jail. Please, Paulette.” She was blowing out exasperated breaths and sucking her teeth while I pleaded my case. Then there was a long pause. I felt frantic inside.

  “I’ll think about it,” Paulette said in a low voice. Then she hung up the phone. I broke down.

  The officer who had been waiting for me grabbed my arm roughly. “That’s it, Goldman. Let’s go,” he grumbled.

  I dragged my feet slowly back to the holding cell, and for the first time in over ten years, all I could do was pray.

  I had dozed off with my head up against the hol
ding cell wall when I heard them calling my name. “Goldman! Goldman!” I jumped up like someone had thrown ice water in my face. I rushed over to the bars.

  “Someone came and paid the fine. Lucky you,” the officer droned as he pulled back the cell door.

  I couldn’t help but smile. I rushed behind him, ready to get the hell out of that horrendous place. When I stepped behind the large desk in the police station, I caught a glimpse of Paulette pacing in the lobby. I never thought she looked more beautiful. She had put on a few pounds since the last time I had seen her, but her smooth almond complexion and five-foot-six-inch curvy frame still made her a bombshell. Although she just had on a pair of jeans and a fitted wifebeater, she still looked like an angel in my eyes. I was so damn grateful to see her. She had not only paid my fine, but she’d waited for me as well. My heart melted at the thought of Paulette coming to my rescue after everything I had done. I felt awful too. I wondered if I would’ve done the same for her had things with Richard and I still been good.

  When I was released, I rushed toward Paulette. She heard my heels clicking on the floor and whirled around. I smiled at her, but she didn’t so much as crack a smile. Her face was stony and the look in her eye was downright evil.

  “Thank you,” I sang, extending my arms for a sisterly embrace. It was phony, but it was all I could offer right then.

  Paulette threw her hands up, halting my request for a hug. “Melody, I’m really not in the mood for all of that. I mean, it’s not like shit is all good between us,” Paulette said dryly.

  I knew that she was right. I dropped my arms. I understood just where she was coming from. I had really cut Paulette and my mother off right after I married Richard. Although I already had my own place when I met Richard, Paulette often visited me and I would still sometimes go by my mother’s house when she wasn’t feeling so evil. The more involved I got with Richard, the less I visited my mother and sister. After I finally confided in Richard how my mother treated me as a child, Richard had demanded that I just forget about them. He assured me that he was the only family I needed.