GHETTO SUPERSTAR (6 page)

Then why am I still here?
she wondered.
He doesn't need me
. Answering her own question, she said to herself:
Because Casino took the time to help a family in need instead of minding his own business like most people would have done—that's why
.

Fabiola's attention was drawn to a big guy wearing a black denim outfit and black boots who was pacing back and forth across the floor. He had to weigh at least three hundred pounds. And from the look on the tall man's face, he was pissed off. He looked kind of familiar to Fabiola, but whoever he was, she sure was glad that she wasn't the one he was upset with.

After observing the man a little longer, it came to Fabiola: He was one of the goons that were with Casino the morning of the eviction.

“How the hell am I going to pay my rent if Casino dies?” Fabiola overheard a woman say who was sitting across from the water fountain whispering to her friend. “You know he been taking care of me since Mike went to jail.”

Fabiola thought she must have heard the chick wrong. There was no way that man was lying in the hospital, possibly about to lose his life, and all this woman cared about was his pockets. But once she heard the friend reply, she knew she had heard the woman right.

“You mean
when
he dies,” the woman's friend corrected her. “I heard somebody say he got shot so many times the paramedics almost didn't bother to bring 'im to the hospital. They were 'bout to take 'im straight to Scott's funeral home.”

Two people came to drink from the water fountain, causing a little water to splash on Fabiola, which was her cue to move. She decided again to look for a chair, which was hard to find. She scanned the room and found another spot in the corner to stand and then moved there. Two women made eye contact with her, and, after appraising her, paid her no mind.

“I know I should have got pregnant by that nigga when we fucked last month,” Fabiola overheard one of the ladies say.

“I thought you said he used a condom?” the other girl replied.

“He always does, but damn, I should have put a hole through it.”

“I thought you said he didn't fuck you—that you just gave him head?”

“Yeah, that's how it went, but I should have kept the condom and used a turkey baster or some shit.”

“Girl, you are crazy. And besides, why would you want to be pregnant by a man that's shot up and could die?”

“So my baby can have his fortune.”

“I agree. If I was you I would have just sucked it so good that he would want to give me the fortune anyway. Put me in the will.”

The two chicks snickered a little bit.

Fabiola shook her head.
These scandalous bitches
, Fabiola thought as she made sure to get a good look at them so she could tell Casino about them when he got well.

A lady that was dressed like a pregnant nun approached the big guy that was doing all the pacing. “Hey, Tonk, how're you holding up?”

“I'm stressed the fuck out, that's all, ain't much to it,” Tonk admitted.

“Me, too, so truly I understand.”

Fabiola continued to look around while she waited and saw a woman sitting in a chair fanning herself.
Who is she?
Fabiola wondered. The woman was so beautiful that she almost looked out of place. She looked to be in her midforties and was dressed to the nines, but conservatively. Her black Gucci pantsuit fit her size-eight body to perfection. Gucci loafers matched the bag that rested on top of her knee. It wasn't last season's bag either. Fabiola
had seen one just like it in a fashion magazine. The way her curls in her hair were laid down, it wasn't hard to tell that her short haircut probably cost a small fortune in one of those upscale salons. Fabiola noticed the Rolex watch and the big ring on her left finger and wondered if she was Casino's wife. Whoever she was, she was a diva all the way.

The woman knew that Fabiola was checking her out but wasn't about to acknowledge it—that was her swagger. She had already sized up Fabiola when she had been standing by the water fountain. Had Fabiola been about fifteen to twenty years older then she would have been worried shitless, but knowing good and well that Casino didn't really keep the company of younger women, she brushed Fabiola off as a groupie to the infamous hood star.

Fabiola's evaluation of the wifey-looking woman was interupted when the trauma surgeon came out. He had operated on Casino for six straight hours. The woman Fabiola suspected was Casino's wife ran to the doctor's side, and everyone else huddled around him.

“First, let me say that Mr. Winn is a strong man, a fighter indeed.” The doctor squeezed his hands together, trying to relieve some of the tension from the long hours of delicate surgery, not to mention the colorful crowd before him.

“Right now he's stable.” There was relief on a lot of people's faces when he said that. “But he's not out of the water yet. And even if he does live, the reality is that a bullet went through his abdomen and grazed the lumbar region of his spine, which could leave him paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Oh my God,” a woman screamed. She was as attractive as wifey, and judging from her reaction seemed to be close to Casino.

Who was she?
Fabiola wondered.
Maybe his sister
.

“Casino is a warrior,” wifey said to the woman. “He'll be fine. And all the theatrics aren't going to make this any better than what it is,” she added calmly. Fabiola sensed that wifey was annoyed at the other woman's reaction.

Maybe she's not his sister after all. Maybe she's his baby momma or his girlfriend. Casino seems like the kind oft man who could pull off a girlfriend and a wife
.

“I'm not certain, but he may have to go through a series of surgeries down the line,” the doctor said. “But right now he's stable.” He patted wifey's hand, and then looked at the crowd. “I'm limiting his visits to immediate family only. Mr. Winn really needs his rest.”

“So, what you are saying? Is he going to live, Doc?” a fella bluntly asked. “Will he be able to walk?” another blurted out. The girl who said she needed her rent paid looked like she was about to pass out. Her friend had a smug look on her face like,
I told you so
.

“I'm saying it's going to be tough, but Mr. Winn is a fighter.”

Spade, Casino's son and right-hand man, walked away as he waved off the doctor's news. “This shit is for the birds. My pops is on his deathbed and we can't get a straight answer from the gotdamn doctor.”

Fabiola was speechless. All she knew is that she wanted to see Casino. But the doctor had said
immediate family only
. The only person she knew was the big dude that everyone called Tonk—if seeing a man one time for a few minutes counted as knowing him, then maybe she could get a favor from him.
But he wouldn't understand why this is so important to me. Maybe he would. What do I have to lose?

Fabiola looked around for her only shot. Tonk was talking to a lady that looked almost as glamorous as wifey. But this one was tall and thin. She had light-caramel-colored skin and a Farrah Fawcett feathered hairdo. Fabiola couldn't hear what they
were saying, but Tonk reached in his pocket, pulled out a twenty, and shoved it in her hand. It looked like feathered hairdo said, “thank you,” before switching down the hall as if she had a million dollars in her hand. Tonk went the other way. Fabiola followed Tonk, trying to work up the nerve to approach him.

Then wifey popped up.

“Tonk, I don't know what to do. I'm so devastated.”

Tonk gave her a hug. “Roxy, everything is going to be okay,” Tonk assured her.

“I hope so.”

“It will.” He nodded, trying to convince himself.

“What are you driving?” Roxy shifted the conversation.

“I got the Range Rover outside.”

“I'm sure that Casino would want me to get the keys from you and keep the truck at my house.”

Tonk looked at Roxy like,
Bitch, no you didn't just say that
, but instead said, “No disrespect, but Casino left the Rover in my care and that's where it's going to stay. I've been his driver for ten years, and never had an accident, a scrap, or scratch. Besides”—Tonk tried to make light of the encounter—“who's going to pick him up when he comes home from the hospital?”

“And until that day comes—and I pray that it isn't that long—it won't be necessary for you to be racking up any additional miles on it,” Roxy said.

“Look, Roxy.” He put his foot down. “Casino left the damn truck with me, and that's where it will be when he comes home.” He didn't want to be disrespectful, but she was not leaving him much of a choice. “And frankly, I am not going to be spending energy on talking about a truck or anything material while my boss is lying in a hospital fighting for his life.”

“You are not the only one that loves him, Tonk. That's my man that's lying in that bed.”

“Well, hopefully we'll be able to get in to see him.”

“We will,” she said. “The doctor said ‘immediate family’ and we're the closest thing to that Casino has. I'll talk to you later. I'm going to run downstairs to the cafeteria and get some coffee.” She began to walk off and then she turned around and called out to Tonk. When he turned around, she walked back toward him. “Answer me this one quick question?” She put her finger up.

“If I can, you know I will.”

“Why weren't you driving him last night?”

“Because I wasn't aware that he was going anywhere last night. He gave me the night off.” Tonk had been Casino's driver for ten years, and his friend for nearly twice that, and he didn't feel like he owed anyone an explanation of his whereabouts. But he wanted Roxy to know this: “If you are insinuating that this would not have happened to Casino if I was with him—you're probably right. I would rather it was me in that street bleeding.”

Tonk had been wrestling with that thought ever since he got the call that Casino had been shot. And he continued to beat himself up about it. For the life of him he couldn't figure why Casino had given him the night off and went out by himself. “But Roxy, I'm not going to let you or anyone else question my loyalty to Casino—you hear me?”

Jackie walked up and looked Roxy up and down hoping that she was leaving. “You off somewhere, Ms. Roxy?”

“Indeed I'm not, Jackie.” Roxy turned her attention to her competition. “I will be here as long as I need to be for
my
man,” Roxy snapped back before walking off.

“We'll see, won't we? Because I intend to be here 'til the dust settles,” Jackie said to Roxy's back, loud enough for her to hear, even though Roxy didn't turn around.

“Jackie, if you need to go home and take a shower, you can. I will be here,” Tonk said.

“No, I got someone bringing me some clothes. And besides I damn sho ain't gonna let that bitch out-sit me,” Jackie stressed to Tonk. “You can bet that.”

Tonk smiled a little at Jackie's spunk. She had always tried so hard to get Casino's attention. Although she was never successful, she always remained consistent.

Right as Fabiola was about to approach him, someone called out to her. “Hey Fabiola.” The voice came from a fake girl named Toy who had been her arch enemy in high school.

I swear I don't need to run into a hater. Not today, not right now
.

“Oh, hi! How are you?” Fabiola jumped right into character.

“I'm good, what are you doing up here?” Before Fabiola could answer, she said, “I guess you up here being nosey, huh? Chasing news, like so many of the other folks, huh?”

“Actually, I came up here to see about a dear friend.” Fabiola flashed a fake smile as she saw Spade going over to Tonk.

“Oh, okay. Well, have you got signed to a record label or are you still chasing your dream?”

“Girl, I have meetings with some music execs next week.” Fabiola bullshitted and changed the subject. “Oh, and how is Rob? I saw him a few weeks ago and he told me that he got another baby on the way.” Fabiola hit Toy with a low blow, just as Toy had tried to do to her. “But whenever I see him, I always ask about the two children that he has with you. How are they, anyway?”

Toy lit up and then went in her jacket and pulled out a photo of the kids and began rambling on. Fabiola didn't care, but she played along. She knew that Toy was practice for when she'd really have to deal with the paparazzi and the haters alike.

“Man, I am about to get the fuck out of here,” Spade said to Tonk as they stood in the middle of the hall. “Pretty much my work here now is done since I know Pops is alive. It's time for me to get the fuck out of here so I can try to find out exactly what the fuck happened.” He adjusted his New York Yankees baseball cap. “I'm going to check a few traps and the crap house. You know gossip come through that motherfucker like a barbershop or a hair salon, so I'm going to see what people talking about.”

They both chuckled in agreement.

“Well, I ain't going nowhere. You know I am fucked up already that I was not by his side and a nigga got him. I damn sho ain't leaving his side and let a nigga tear him off.”

“I swear, it ain't no security up in this bitch, and the li'l toy cops they got ain't shit.”

“We”
—Tonk pointed to himself then Spade—“security for that nigga laying in there.”

“No doubt. But look, you take the first shift and I'll be next shift until we get a read about what's really going on, and 'til we know that he ain't in no further danger.”

“Look young'un, he's a powerful man, he's always in danger. You know that.”

“I do, but especially now, we gotta hold this shit down until further notice. So, let's do that shit in twelve-hour hits.”

“A'ight, I got the first, and find out what you can.”

Spade lowered his voice even more. “Who is that bitch over there with the yellow shirt and ball on top of her head?” He motioned with his neck toward Fabiola. “I ain't never seen her before. As fine as she is, I would remember.”

Tonk took a look.

Fabiola saw them both look at her and smiled a little as she pretended to be genuinely interested in what Toy had to say.

“She look familiar but I'm not sure. I think that she's the singer chick that your pops gave her family the house on Twenty-eighth. Maybe she here wondering if they gone get kicked out or something.”