Mayhem: A Twisted Hearts Love Story Book 2 Read online

  “Cyma, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” Nurse Brenda Johnson, who has become a cherished friend, steps into the room. She has been my rock over the years. She’s the one person who I can always count on to help me with my daughter, Lelia. My eyes tear up whenever I think of all of the incredible things Brenda has done for Lelia and I. My heart is full of gratitude for her.

  “Sorry I know I’m late. Did she have a rough day?” My voice is thick with emotion. I’m still reeling from my encounter with Wheeler and to come here to see my daughter lying in this hospital bed, I feel overwhelmed.

  “Not as bad as the other day.” She smiles warmly at me.

  I smile at my sleeping daughter’s figure as tears fall down my cheeks. I brush them away with the back of my hand. Brenda offers me a tissue, which I accept. I wipe the tears from my face and blow my nose. I’ve become attuned with the sound of the machines in my daughters room and oddly enough I find them now soothing because it shows signs of life. A sign that my daughter is still here with me and there is a chance she will come home.

  “I know it’s hard for you. But Lelia is a fighter. She gets that from you.” Brenda, of all people, knows everything about what’s going on in my life. I’ve needed someone to unload my problems to, and she has never complained once. I feel guilty about only calling her when I need to cry, but she always tells me that’s what friends are for. Lelia and I have come to depend on her so much.

  “Who me?” I relax into the chair and look at my resting daughter. “I learned how to fight from my daughter. Watching her fight this as bravely as she has, has given me the strength to fight. I was never a fighter before my daughter. I’ve always just accepted life and things as they are.”

  “She’s given you a reason to fight. Children always do.” Her kind words touch me.

  “Yes, they do.” I smile at Brenda. But how much more can I fight? Some days, I feel like the fight is leaving me.

  “How did your meeting with Wheeler go? Did he give you the break you needed?” My closest friend furrows her eyebrows in concern.

  I shake my head, not willing to tell her what really happened. Brenda takes special exception to any man who hits a woman. She’s never confessed it, but I believe she comes from an abusive relationship. The signs are there; I should know, I come from one myself.

  Taking a seat next to me, she leans over and places her hand on my lap for comfort. “Oh, Cyma, I’m so sorry about that. Do you need a loan?”

  Again, I shake my head. She’s done too much as it stands. When I didn’t have enough money for carfare, she would buy my transit card for me. When I couldn’t afford to give Lelia a gift for her birthday, she bought it on my behalf. She’s such a kind and generous person.

  Her eyebrows raise and her voice is gentle. “You sure? I don’t mind, and it’s not like I can’t afford to help a friend in need.”

  I smile at her because her generosity knows no end. “I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me. I promise I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  Her expression is knowing. She realizes that I would never ask her for anything. Brenda always has to force me to accept anything from her. Sitting back in her chair, she crosses her legs as a wicked gleam comes to her eyes. “What you need, honey, is that man who saved you in the alley a few days ago.”

  I told her about almost being mugged a few days ago. If Dante hadn’t stepped in when he did, the money they took would’ve set me back with paying Wheeler. I’m forever thankful to him for helping. He hasn’t left my mind since that day in the alley. There was just something about him that made me feel drawn to him. It was such a brief encounter, yet I felt a connection to him. More of a connection than I even felt with my ex-husband when we were still together. I close my eyes momentarily and remember being held in his strong arms. I find myself daydreaming about his chiseled features and deep set warm, brown eyes.

  Chapter 4

  You Can’t See What I Can See ~ Heavy D. & The Boyz

  Tick

  Sitting in Tony’s office at Pulse, Manny and I wait for Tony to finish a call with his Miami club’s manager, Ray, who’s also happens to be Manny’s brother. He got his brother the job a few years back. His brother used to be a drug addict, but Manny stepped in and got him clean, and Ray has been doing well since.

  “Yeah. Send me the numbers when you finish.” Tony hangs up the phone and clasps his hands together.

  “Problem?” Manny leans in closer to the desk.

  “Nah. Just going over the numbers with all the clubs.” Tony rubs his fingers over his temples.

  “Still thinking about opening up a club in Amsterdam?” I sit back in my chair with a glass of scotch in hand.

  “Yeah. Need all the numbers to present to the bank for a loan.” He seems to be in deep thought.

  “That’s a big move, boss,” Manny says as he stands and places his hands in his pockets.

  “Well, the clubs are doing well stateside, and I think I can expand our options overseas. Make the clubs more edgy over there.” I know his promise to Anaya is weighing on him.

  “I like it. Keeping the same name?” I ask as I take a sip from my drink.

  “Angel thinks I should give it a different name, and I agree. Just not sure what I’m going to call it yet.”

  “Call it Pulse X,” I say, just throwing the thought out there.

  Tony ponders the idea for a long moment then slaps his hand on the desk, making everything jump. “I like it! Pulse X fits! The club will be more risqué than the ones in the States, so it works.”

  “Brown-noser,” Manny mumbles under his breath.

  “Ya know it.” I smile and take another sip of my drink.

  “Don’t know why you want to go and open a club overseas for.” We both turn our attention to Manny, who often complains about change.

  I can tell where this is headed. “Oh boy, don’t ask him. Please don’t get him started.” I shake my head, already knowing that Pandora’s Box is about to be opened.

  “Why’s that?” A bemused smile spreads across Tony’s face as he leans back in his chair and waits for Manny’s response.

  Manny glares at me before continuing. “Listen, I can’t help that I watch the news. You should be happy I’m willing to share what I learn.”

  “Listen, dickhead, no one in Amsterdam is trying to steal your organs,” I say, as I stand and lean against the wall.

  “Stealing organs?” Tony has a half-smile on his face.

  Manny leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and uses his hands to express how serious he is. “Yeah, boss. I saw it on the news that people in other countries are stealing people’s organs.”

  Tony’s eyes shift to mine and I shrug as if to say, ‘You asked for it.’ Tony throws his head back in laughter. Manny is a notorious headlines chaser. He watches the news and swears it’s going to happen to him. That time when there was the Ebola outbreak, he wore a mask and gloves for months. He’s a bona fide hypochondriac, who suffers from news paranoia. I join in the laughter as I take my seat again. Manny’s chin dips down as he folds his arms across his chest.

  We finish laughing at Manny’s expense, and Tony gets back down to business. “Any updates from Magnum?”

  “He’s on his way here, actually. Gonna have a quick sit down,” I say, placing my now-empty glass on the desk.

  “All right, give me an update.” Tony stands and grabs his jacket. “Angel is expecting me home early tonight.”

  “Tell sis I said hi and to give a brother a call.” Tony laughs at my comment. He knows Anaya and I speak at least once a day. Thank fuck he trusts me, or else I would’ve gone missing a long time ago.

  “How ’bout you tell her yourself. You know she’ll be calling you in a few minutes anyway.” He finishes adjusting his jacket by the door. “Okay, let me know if there are any problems.”

  “Go be with your woman. We got this,” Manny tells him before Tony closes the door behind him.

  “You stay
ing for the meet with Magnum?”

  Manny lights up a cigarette. “Yeah. I’ll be around.” He lets out an exhale of smoke.

  I’m swishing my hands through the air, pretending the cigarette smoke is bothering me, when Tony’s intercom rings on the desk. “Yeah,” I answer.

  “Magnum is here to see you. Send him up?” Tallie, the hostess, buzzes from below.

  “Yeah, send him up.” I don’t hear the click of her hanging up and after a moment of silence, I prompt her to spit it out. “What’s up?”

  “We hooking up tonight?” She uses her Marilyn Monroe voice over the phone.

  “Yeah, why not. Gotta wait till closing though.” I was planning on picking someone else up for the night, but Tallie and I have an understanding. When either of us has an itch needing to be scratched, we take care of the problem.

  “Why wait? Locker room is good. Just need you to take the edge off.” Her voice purrs on the intercom making my dick stand to attention.

  She’s my type of chick. Get what you want and get out. Quick, dirty, and hard. “Fuck yeah. Let me finish up with Magnum, and I’ll come find you.”

  “Don’t keep me waiting too long.” Click.

  “Shit, you still tapping that?”

  “Hell yeah, every now and then. Don’t want her to get the impression we’re in a relationship or anything.” Tallie is fun and never pressures me for a commitment like some chicks do. She’s in it for what I can give her, or better yet, the orgasms I give her. I take a seat and wait for Magnum.

  The door rattles from Magnum’s typical hard knock. “It’s open,” Manny says, still shaking his head in laughter at my comment.

  Magnum, who I would describe as a door filler, enters and nods his head at the two of us in greeting. He walks straights to the wet bar and fixes himself a quick one before taking a seat.

  “So what’s the good word, Mag?” Manny flicks cigarette ash into an ashtray.

  “Jay and Wheeler. Got word they might be doing some side business.”

  Rising quickly to face him, I ask, “With who?” Any side business of those two is bound to be some shady shit. Whatever they are up to could complicate Tony’s plans.

  Magnum’s lips purse together as he rubs the back of his neck. “Got mumblings they might be in bed with El Diablo.”

  “El Diablo? Is that even a real person? I always thought it was one of those urban legends.” Manny blows out a puff of smoke, sliding down deeper so his head can rest on the chair back.

  Magnum shakes his head. “Nah. El Diablo is real, man.”

  “El Diablo is known around the streets as a cold blooded killer,” I add, even though it’s the understatement of the year. El Diablo has been known to have his hand in a lot of shit in the streets, from selling drugs, women, loan sharking, and I even heard he has some fetish clubs that some rich people frequent. Thing is, no one has ever set sights on him, which adds to his mystique. D.A’s office every now and then think they are closing in on him, just to come up empty. El Diablo always has his bases covered and pays his men handsomely for their loyalty.

  “Yeah, it’s true. I heard that when someone came up short with his drug money, El Diablo had the man’s family killed in front of him and made the man clean up the mess himself.” Magnum shakes his head and takes a big gulp of his drink.

  “And Jay and Wheeler are doing business with El Diablo?” I scratch my chin as I take in this new information. Jay and Wheeler control our loading docks that receive shipping containers. When Ignacio was alive, he used this more as a front to ship and receives drugs for distribution and to send out illegally obtained cars. We have been working to legitimize this portion of the business slowly. You can’t exactly cut all illegal ties overnight. It’s not as simple to say ‘we are no longer supplying you with something because we are now legit.’ The type of people we deal with don’t exactly take no for an answer. So Tony has been trying to line up alternatives for our business partners.

  “That’s the word on the street. They aren’t heavy yet. It seems like El Diablo is giving them a small taste.” Magnum shakes his head briefly.

  “How does this affect us? Fallout?” Shit, things could go from bad to worse if these two are hooked up with El Diablo. I pace the floor as a scowl forms on my face.

  “Not sure yet. As of now, I’m thinking no fallout. But the quicker we cut those two loose, the better.” Shrugging his shoulders slightly, Magnum steady gaze meets my own.

  “I’ll speak to Tony about it and get back to you.” I try loosening my tight muscles by flexing a little. With El Diablo now in the picture, he can want a piece, or all, of the action from the loading dock business. After the death of Ignacio, we were hounded for months about his sudden disappearance from cops and some politicians who were on the take. The heat wasn’t good. If we give them a reason to come investigating again we may not come out of it as clean as we did the last time.

  “Good. I’ve already started moving business away from the two of them.” Magnum nods his acknowledgement.

  “Good thinking, bro. I’ll tell Tony.” My tension eases slightly with that information. Tony would kill anyone who fucked with his legitimate businesses.

  Manny stretches and yawns. “Anything else? We done? I wanna get my dick sucked.”

  Magnum and I laugh at Manny’s remark. Leave it to him to always find a way to break the tension in a room. Manny knows the seriousness of what Magnum told us but that is how he deals with shit. Most of us would sit and think about our next move. He insists that he thinks more clearly after he busts his load. “Yeah, guess we’re done for now.”

  Without preamble, Manny jumps out of his seat and strides toward the door. “Guess you’ll be using the locker room. That leaves me with the bathroom.”

  “Don’t get caught with your pants down again,” Magnum jokes.

  “Fuck you!” Manny gives him the finger as he leaves the office, because he, in fact, did get caught last week literally with his pants down by Anaya.

  “Fuck, man, El Diablo?” I say the words out loud more for my benefit than his.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Wonder how they pulled that off? They’re second-rate at best. El Diablo doesn’t do second-rate.”

  “They must know somebody who knows somebody. You know how it goes.”

  “Yeah, guess so.” I reach for my cell to call Tony and give him the news. He’s going to be off the charts pissed when he finds out Jay and Wheeler are fucking with his business. Tallie will have to wait.

  Chapter 5

  Hero ~ Mariah Carey

  Cyma

  “No, Mommy, I don’t wanna,” Lelia cries, shaking her head back and forth, as I try to get her to eat another bite of the tasteless food. I don’t blame her for crying; I wouldn’t want to eat it either.

  “Please, baby. Eat for Mommy. The doctors need you to eat so you can be strong for your treatments.” I smile at my four-year-old, praying she’ll take pity on me and eat. She shakes her head and closes her mouth, puffing out her cheeks. I exhale and sit back in my chair. I no longer have the energy to fight with her. “All right. But you have to drink your juice.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Lelia, you have to drink your juice.” She shakes her head at me again, and I know I’m losing yet another battle. Feeling dejected, tears flood my eyes. What kind of mother am I if I can’t even get my sick child to drink her juice?

  Brenda knocks softly at the door. “How’s my sweetest patient doing? Did you finish your lunch?”

  “I don’t want it. I don’t like it.” Lelia pouts, crossing her tiny arms over her chest and her sweet mouth pulls down in a frown.

  She gives me a knowing smile and takes the fork from my hand. “Come on and open wide for Brenda.” She coaxes my daughter with a funny face. Lelia giggles in delight and opens her mouth to receive the food. Letting out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding, I thank God silently for her. “Doctor Joseph is in his office and would like to speak to
you. Don’t worry, I’ll finish feeding her.”

  I thank her and kiss my daughter's forehead before going to see Doctor Joseph. Knocking on his door, I wait for him to answer. Giving me the okay to come in, I brace myself for whatever he needs to talk to me about and how it may affect my daughter.

  “Ms. Sawyer, please have a seat.” Doctor Joseph, who is a very handsome man in his late thirties, removes his glasses and sits back in his leather chair. His sandy blond hair is ruffled and his red rimmed blue eyes show signs of lack of sleep.

  I sit in front of his desk, clasping my hands together on my lap, bouncing my knees in anticipation as I wait for him to start talking.

  “We received the lab results back.” His eyes look everywhere but my own. After all this time I’ve known him, I can tell when he is about to give me bad news. “Lelia’s system is not responding to the treatments as we’d hoped.” His body slumps in his chair as if the words that just left his mouth have deflated him.

  I feel the air leaving my body and the room spin around. All those weeks of chemo, and Lelia’s already frail frame getting weaker and weaker after each treatment. The days when she was too weak to sit up in her bed. The waiting and the praying and the tears! All that to hear these words? It’s not fair that my daughter was diagnosed with Leukemia when she was two years old. It’s not fair that she no longer remembers what it was like to be healthy. Instead of playing with kids her age, she’s hooked up to machines.

  The familiar anger bubbles up inside and I want to scream out how unfair it is! A sharp pain shoots through my hands as I realize that I’m clenching the armrests of the chair in a death grip. I release it immediately and rub my hands on my pants to get circulation back. The doctor sits and stares at me, probably analyzing my reaction. I want to tell him to fuck off, but it’s not his fault. He believed the treatments would work, but he was always honest about the possibility of it not working.

  “What’s our next option?” My words come out shaky.

  “Bone marrow transplant. I believe she’ll respond well to this. Most children her age do. Your husband was a match, as I recall.” He reaches over for a folder on his desk and reads what I assume is Lelia’s chart before nodding and closing the file. “Have him come in for a consultation.”