The Cartel (27 page)

“Why are you always acting like I don’t matter to you? Do you really just want us to be friends?”

That was one characteristic that Zyir couldn’t change about her. She was spoiled through and through. He smiled and shook his head as he rubbed his fresh Caesar cut. “Come on,
B,
you know you matter. Stop being like that, a’ight. I’m gon’ figure it out, but there’s too much going on right now. We don’t need to put another problem on Carter’s mind. Let’s wait until things die down first, a’ight.”

Robyn, Aries, and Ma’tee watched closely as they sat in the BMW with tinted windows, following the young couple’s every move. They had been stalking Breeze for three days straight. They needed to know when and how she moved, so constant surveillance was necessary.

Miamor had left them on stuck when she decided to grow a conscience and play wifey to their enemy, but the Murder Mamas wasn’t having it. After contacting Ma’tee, they decided to kidnap the weakest member of the Diamond family and hold her for ransom. Once the ransom was paid, they planned to kill Breeze in retaliation for Anisa’s murder, and then they would leave town. They hoped by then that Miamor would come to her senses. They had all been together for too long to break apart now, but with or without her, they were doing this so they could relocate to L.A. The West Coast was the only place they hadn’t been yet, and they wanted to go some place where their reputation didn’t precede them.

“How de fuck we suppose to grab de bitch if that nigga always with she?” Aries screwed the silencer on her .357 Magnum. “Ah should blast he right now for being such a fucking pank, lover boy-ass nigga. How are we supposed to catch she alone if he constantly with she?”

“No,” Ma’tee said. “We will stay in de shadows until de time is right, and we will get her when they least expect it. Just continue to watch. Her routine is de same each day. They come to dis same bookstore at the same time. He is her only barrier of protection, but we still have to be smart. We will get her soon enough.” Ma’tee leaned back in the plush leather seat. “Soon enough.”

“… The Murder Mamas. They’re ruthless. Bitches will kill they own fucking mothers without thinking twice.”

—Fabian

M
iamor awoke to the feel of Carter’s lips on her neck. She smiled and adjusted her neck so that she could kiss him. For three days straight she had been laid up with Carter in his beachside condo. They had seen no one but each other, and being wrapped up in him kept her mind off her girls. She felt bad for switching up on them, but they didn’t understand. They could never understand why she couldn’t kill Carter. He was the only man who had gotten inside of her heart and made her give regard to human life. Miamor’s body was exhausted from the “sexual Olympics” that Carter had taken her through. She was spent, but it was all worth it because she had pleased her man.

“What time is it?” she asked, stretching her arms above her head.

“Three o’clock. Get up and put on some clothes. I’m taking you out tonight.”

No man had ever spoken to Miamor with such authority in his voice, and surprisingly she respected Carter, doing anything he asked of her.

Miamor arose, showered, and was dressed in Dolce in less than twenty minutes.

As they drove through the busy streets, Miamor’s fingers intertwined with Carter’s. She was silent as she watched the city fly by in a blur.
I need to contact Aries and make sure they are straight. They’ve been my girls for too long for me to turn my back on them now. I can help them come up on some money with a different job, but I can’t go through with this one. I have to get them to understand where I’m coming from.

Miamor was so engrossed with her thoughts that she didn’t see the detour that Carter had taken until the car was parked. She frowned as she looked up at the Mercy Mental Health Hospital. She looked at Carter in confusion. “What are we doing here? I thought we were going to dinner.”

Carter rubbed her hair as if she were his child. The way he soothed her made her smile. “Don’t worry about it, ma, we’re just making a quick stop. I need to see somebody here,” he explained as he opened the car door. He walked around to her side and opened the door for her. “Come on, I don’t know how long I’ll be. I don’t want you sitting in the car twiddling your thumbs.”

Miamor got out of the car and followed him inside.

When they entered, Carter signed in and then put his hand on the small of Miamor’s back as he led her down a narrow hallway into a waiting room where patients were visiting with their family and friends.

Miamor stopped walking when she saw who Carter was going to see.
So this is where the fuck this nigga been hiding,
she thought. She began to scratch the palm of her hand. Most people’s hand itched when they were about to come into money, but Miamor’s hand itched when she was about to commit a murder.

“Let me go holla at my brother, ma. Have a seat. I won’t be long,” Carter whispered then pecked her quickly on the cheek.

It took all of her self-control not to run up on Mecca, and she stared cruelly at her sister’s killer.

Carter snapped her out of her daze. “Ay, you good?”

Miamor nodded and forced herself to look away. “Yeah, I’m good. Go ahead. I’ll be right over here.”

Carter approached Mecca and slapped hands with him.

“What’s good, fam?” Mecca eyed Miamor. “That’s you?”

Carter laughed. “That one’s off-limit, fam. How’s everything with you? You good? You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good, bro. Have you heard anything from Estes?” Mecca asked. “I’m tired of hiding out in this mu'-fucka like a bitch. This shit in here is too calm, fam. I’m ready to come out busting at whoever standing in the way.”

Carter shook his head. “That wouldn’t be smart, Mecca. You barely survived the first time. I know your record. You ain’t got to prove shit to me, fam, but your grandfather is operating on an entirely different level. If he wants you touched, then you will be touched. Just give things some time to settle down. You talking to the therapists about Money?”

Carter knew that Mecca didn’t want to talk about Monroe’s murder, but he was worried about his brother. He’d noticed the change in Mecca after Money’s demise and thought it might be wise if Mecca could get whatever was bothering him off his chest.

“Fuck these crackers, man, they will never understand,” Mecca replied.

Fabian emerged from his room and into the visiting room. He was eager to see his mother. She had traveled from Virginia just to come and see her only son. He sauntered out of his room with his piss bag taped to his stomach Walking past Mecca’s table, he stopped mid-step and stared in shock at Miamor. His yellow skin turned pale white as if he had seen a ghost. “Oh shit, man, oh shit!” he stated as he began to cry. He ducked down directly behind Mecca’s chair.

Carter noticed the strange man and frowned. “Fuck is this crazy nigga behind your chair, fam?”

Mecca turned around and looked down at his crouching roommate. “Fuck is you doing, nigga? Is there a problem?”

“Please, man, please, man, just hide me. I don’t want to die, man. Please just hide me,” Fabian begged.

Mecca and Carter looked around the room. There wasn’t one person in the room that seemed to be paying attention to Fabian. They didn’t know that Miamor, who was calmly sitting in the corner, flipping through a magazine, had chopped off his most precious jewels.

Carter shook his head from side to side and stood from the table. All of a sudden, being inside of the hospital was becoming unbearable.
These mu’fuckas in here are loony as hell,
he thought.

Fabian was so deathly afraid of Miamor noticing him that he stayed crouched to the floor as if he were in the army, and maneuvered his way back to his room. He even missed his visit with his mother because he was afraid that Miamor would see him.

Mecca extended his hand and slapped hands with Carter.

“Stay sane in this mu’fucka, fam. Call me if you need anything, and be careful. Estes got eyes everywhere, nah mean?”

“Yeah, I hear you. Be easy, duke.”

Mecca pulled up his sagging pants and strolled back to his room, where his roommate was hiding out. He looked at the nigga in disgust. He had never even held one conversation with the man. Mecca wasn’t in the hospital to make friends. He simply needed to lay low for a while, so conversing and entertaining niggas that weren’t on his level was pointless. He knew that, once they found out who he was, they would try to get on and would hassle him about being down with The Cartel.

“Is that bitch still out there?” Fabian asked.

“What the fuck? You running from a chick?” Mecca asked. “What, the bitch trying to stick you with child support or something?” Mecca laughed at the sight of the grown man crying before him.

Fabian shuffled to their bedroom and peeked outside in the hallway. Once he saw the coast was clear, he closed the door. “It’s not just any chick,” Fabian explained. “She’s a Murder Mama.”

“Say what?” Mecca had never heard of the group, so he wasn’t impressed.

Fabian went underneath his bed and pulled out a box. Inside of it were newspaper clippings and one photo of the four girls together. “Man, I’m not in here because I’m crazy. I’m hiding from these bitches called the Murder Mamas. They’re some killers, family.”

“Some bitches?”

Fabian nodded as his eyes continued to roam nervously.

“Yeah, nigga! I’m telling you that bitch was here to finish me off. Look, man”—Fabian unzipped his pants and pulled them down, revealing his chopped off genitals.

Mecca turned his head and frowned. “Whoa, fam! Pull up your fucking pants, yo. You bullshitting on that faggoty shit, mu’fucka.”

“I ain’t on no homo shit, fam. Just look at my dick, nigga. These bitches did this to me,” Fabian stated. “That bitch that was here with your visitor chopped me up.”

Mecca’s looked at Fabian in shock. “With my visitor?”

“Yeah, man. How did that bitch find me?”

“She did that to you?”

“Yeah, man, her and these two bitches—The Murder Mamas. They’re ruthless. Bitches will kill they own fucking mothers without thinking twice.” Panic-stricken, Fabian began throwing the little clothing he owned in a plastic garbage bag.

“Stop bullshitting, nigga.”

Fabian shoved the pictures in Mecca’s hands. “Look, nigga, that’s a news article on them. They almost got caught up in some bullshit in New York. Needless to say, somebody produced some big money and made the case disappear.”

Mecca’s nostrils flared when he stared at the news photo. He saw four girls—Miamor, his brother’s new chick, two girls he didn’t recognize, and Anisa, the girl he had killed in the hotel room. He knew that Ma’tee had tried to have him hit that night and had sent the girl at him. He put two and two together. He knew that Miamor had to be sent by Ma’tee to get at Carter.

“Who do they work for?” Mecca asked, to confirm his suspicions.

“Nigga, anybody who can afford their services. I heard that this boss nigga from St. Louis paid them to do a job against some hustler he was beefing with. They fucked around and killed that same nigga two months later because somebody put that cake up to have it done. They don’t have no loyalty, man. Anything is game. You see what they did with a nigga love stick, man. I got to get the fuck up out of here.” Fabian peeked out in the hall once more then rushed out of the room.

Mecca’s head was spinning. If it were under any other circumstances, he would have fucked Miamor. The fact that she had the balls to cut a nigga dick off amused him. He had never seen any shit like that in real life, only in the movies.

Carter couldn’t have known that this chick was affiliated with Ma’tee. From what Mecca knew, Miamor had been fucking with Carter for a little while now, so he silently wondered why she hadn’t made her move yet. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He needed to get out and back on the streets so that he could keep a watchful eye over his brother’s new girlfriend, and find out more information, but he knew that if he left anytime soon, then Estes would put the dogs on his heels. Mecca decided that he would fix his problems with his grandfather first, and as soon as it was safe, he would find out more about The Murder Mamas … before it was too late.

“I am Miami, nigga!”

—Mecca

“Z
yir …” Breeze mumbled as she held both of her legs open for him, giving Zyir a clear pathway to her clitoris. The sand on her back and the waves washing up on the shore heightened Breeze’s first sexual encounter. She had never felt the type of pleasure she was experiencing at that moment, staring into the stars and moaning constantly.

It was around midnight that Zyir had convinced Breeze to sneak out and talk with him, and what started off as a conversation ended up becoming a night of passion.

Breeze had masturbated plenty of times, but she was a virgin to a man’s touch. Zyir operated on her love box like a skilled surgeon would on a patient on the sands of the small, secluded beach just five miles away from the Diamond estate. She moaned loudly as she gripped his head tightly and moved her buttocks in a circular motion, gyrating in his face.

Zyir arose from Breeze’s warmth and looked into her green eyes. Never had he seen a woman so pure, so beautiful. “You are very special, ma,” he said in a low tone. “I want to be inside you.” He let his rock-hard pole exit his boxers.

Breeze’s body squirmed as she was soaked with her own juices. She gently grabbed Zyir’s face, and they began to kiss passionately.

As Zyir attempted to enter Breeze’s tight virgin wound, she grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him. “Zyir, you got a condom on?” she asked.

Damn!
Zyir thought as his world came crumbling down. He wanted to feel her virgin walls without any latex. That was a dope boy’s dream, and she was ruining it for him. “Come on, ma, I want you so bad right now.” Zyir rubbed his tip against her clitoris, trying to persuade her to finish what they’d already started.

“No, Zyir. No glove, no love. Let’s just run to that 7-Eleven around the way.” Breeze moved his pole and sat up.