“It wasn’t nobody else. I know her voice, mu’fucka. She called me. She was crying and she said my name. I’m her man, and she needs me! I have to find her, and I’ll murk any nigga who tries to stop me!” Zyir said through clenched teeth as he looked Mecca directly in the eyes. Zyir was an emotional wreck. Breeze was still alive, he would put his life on it, and he was willing to go against a thousand armies to get her back. She had been out there alone and vulnerable for eight months, while The Cartel had buried her and moved on.
Seeing Zyir’s conviction brought tears to Mecca’s eyes, which he quickly brushed away as he felt his anger rise. He wanted to shoot Zyir’s ass in the foot for fucking around with his little sister in the first place, but he was glad that she had chose a nigga who was built right, one who was willing to go to the ends of the earth because of a phone call. Breeze had chosen a lil’ nigga who Mecca thought their father would have approved of. Mecca nodded his head and looked at Carter, who sat there calmly, grinding his jaw, a clear indication that he was angry.
“We buried her. We counted her out, and she’s been out there all this time,” Zyir said.
“What did you hear?” Carter asked.
“It was muffled, but it sounded like she was talking to a doctor,” Zyir replied.
“Check the hospitals … every hospital in the state if you have to,” Carter instructed to Zyir. “Mecca, you too, but stay out of Florida. Estes is still on your ass. He’s lying low, but that don’t mean he’s gone. You check hospitals in Georgia and Alabama, and even go as far as Mississippi if nothing shakes. If she’s out there, we won’t stop until we bring her home. If anyone hears anything, let me be the first to know.”
Mecca left in search of his baby sister. It had been a long time since he’d prayed, but for this, he closed his eyes and asked God for help. When he was gone Carter turned to Zyir.
“Why did she call you?” Carter asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to see if Zyir would keep it one hundred with him.
Zyir rubbed the top of his head, his eyebrows raised in distress. “I was fucking with her, fam,” Zyir admitted.
Carter stood sternly. “And the day she was taken?” Carter asked.
“She was with me,” Zyir admitted. Carter nodded his head.
Zyir could see the fire blazing in his demeanor, but out of respect, he held his tongue.
Carter began to walk out of the house and stopped at the doorway. “Find her,” he said simply, then left Zyir to his thoughts.
Zyir searched high and low, visiting hospitals, spending every minute of his day looking for Breeze. He doubted that she was still in the city. He couldn’t imagine her being so close for this long without word getting back to The Cartel. He started in the surrounding cities. From Palm Beach to Tampa to Orlando and Ft. Lauderdale, he drove for hours, fighting fatigue on a desperate mission to find her. He had a list of over 100 hospitals in Florida. He called some to see if they had any patients who fit Breeze’s description. If there was even a possibility that a patient could be her, then Zyir hit the highway.
After ten hours of disappointments, he had exhausted every hospital on the list, except for the local Miami institutions. He decided to visit Baptist Hospital first.
A tight knot filled his stomach as he whipped his Lexus through the city streets. He was tired, but he couldn’t call it a night. He didn’t have time to sleep. The thought of Breeze suffering somewhere would not allow him to stop his hunt. He had heard the fear in her voice. Wherever she was, she was in danger and she was defenseless. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined the terror she may be going through.
Little did he know, he could not fathom what she was being forced to endure. Her fate was worse than death. Her torture was unimaginable.
Zyir pulled into the emergency room parking lot and jumped out. He walked into the hospital. Doubt and apprehension ate away at him as he approached the nurse’s station.
“Can I help you, sir?” a young black girl asked without looking up from the paperwork in front of her.
“I’m looking for a girl who may have been treated here. Her name is Breeze Diamond,” Zyir stated.
At the mention of the last name “Diamond", the girl looked up. Her eyes scanned Zyir from head to toe. She instantly knew he was a part of The Cartel. Everything about Zyir screamed power, and his swagger made her wet instantly. The young nurse had never had the pleasure of being this close to one of The Cartel’s members. She had only heard about their prestige because their reputation rang loudly in every ‘hood in Florida. The last name Diamond was associated with money in the city of Miami, but it was an exclusive club, and not everyone had access to them. Today must be my lucky day, she thought as she ogled him from head to toe. She put the tip of a pen in her mouth seductively, obviously vying for his attention.
Zyir’s patience was non-existent at this point. He was immune to her flirtation. “Look, bitch, I don’t got time for all that extra shit. Type in the name and see if she’s here,” he said crudely without ever raising his voice.
An embarrassed expression appeared on the girl’s face as she turned toward the computer. “Breeze Diamond,” the girl repeated as she typed the name. She shook her head. “She wasn’t treated here. There is no record of a Diamond being admitted.”
Zyir massaged his jaw line and hit the desk in frustration, causing the girl to jump. His red eyes were filled with worry. “Look, I need to find her. She’s young, light skinned, long curly hair … she has a small mole on the side of her neck and a scar on her collarbone. She may not be here under her name. I just need you to check to see if there’s anybody here that fits her description. Please!” Zyir said desperately. “It’s important!”
The nurse could sense his agony and nodded her head. “Okay. You can have a seat. I’ll check.”
Zyir sat down with his head in his hands. Minutes passed, but it felt like time was frozen still.
“Sir?” the nurse called to him.
He rushed over to the desk.
“We have a Jane Doe here. She came in a few months ago with no ID, and no one has been here to claim her yet. You can take a look to see if it’s who you’re looking for,” the nurse stated with sympathy.
“Thank you, ma,” Zyir stated as he followed her to the elevator and down a long hallway. Zyir breathed deeply. Please, let this be her! he said in his mind.
The nurse stopped in front of a room. “I just want to warn you, she’s in pretty bad shape. There are injuries to her face and body,” the nurse warned.
Zyir wiped his nose and nodded his head to prepare himself for what he was about to see. The nurse opened the door. The room was dark, and the sound of machines beeping was all that could be heard. He stepped closer to the bed, and when the lights turned on, he gasped in shock.
“Is this her?” the nurse asked.
Zyir was at a loss for words as he stared at the woman before him. She was barely recognizable. She looked as if she was hanging onto her life by a thread. He shook his head and backpedaled out of the room. “No, it’s not her,” he said. He rushed out of the hospital and immediately dialed Carter’s number. It was two o’clock in the morning, but it was a phone call that could not wait.
“Hello?” Carter answered groggily.
“Fam, it’s me,” Zyir said.
“Did you find her?” Carter asked.
“Carter, I found your girl. I found Miamor!”
* * *
Carter entered the hospital with an entourage of twenty men behind him. Members of The Cartel guarded all entrance and exit points of the building, shutting it down. No one was allowed to enter or exit the premises. Zyir and a select few of Carter’s most efficient workers followed him up to the fifth floor where Miamor was located. The same nurse who had assisted Zyir jumped up from her post when she saw the men enter the building.
“Excuse me. It’s past visiting hours. There are too many of you. You all can’t just roam through the hospital,” she protested.
“Text Mecca, and tell him to get here quickly,” Carter ordered. His Mauri alligator’s echoed against the tile floor. His black Armani sweater, white collar shirt and black tie gave him a distinguished look. As he stepped onto the elevator, he was silent, eerily silent, and Zyir knew that once Carter saw Miamor’s condition, the entire city of Miami would rain bullets.
Zyir hadn’t prepared Carter for what he was about to see. He did not want to be the messenger that delivered the bad news. He thought it would be best if Carter saw it for himself. He led Carter to Miamor’s room and stopped at the door. The five men who had come up with them dispersed themselves throughout the fifth floor. Zyir posted up outside of the door. “I think you need to go in alone, fam,” Zyir said.
Carter entered the room. The smell of death lingered in the air. He walked over to the bed and flipped on the lamp that sat on the stand beside it. When he saw her face, the strong visage he had put on crumbled, and he lowered his head to his chest and squeezed her bed rails in agony. It felt as if someone had knocked the air out of his lungs, and he balled his fist and bit his knuckles to stop his dam of emotions from giving way.
He stared down at his lady … the woman he loved. Her face was black and blue, her left eye seemed caved in, and her skin was puffy and swollen with infection. There were parts of her body that were cut deeply, and medical stitches were everywhere. Carter took in every laceration, every cut, every imperfection, and absorbed the pain as his own. He instantly felt guilty, because he could only assume that whoever had done this to her had done so to get to him.
How did I let this happen? He asked himself. He grabbed her hand and noticed how ice cold she was. Her lips were dry and cracked, and her hair was breaking off onto the pillow. She’s been here for three months. I left her here alone, fighting for her life, Carter thought sadly. He wanted to climb into the bed beside her, but he was afraid that he would hurt her. She looked so fragile, and the many machines and tubes connected to her body prevented him from getting that close.
He pulled a chair near her bedside and sat down. “I’m here, Miamor,” he whispered. “I’m right here with you, ma.” He brought her hand up and kissed it over and over again as he closed his eyes in defeat. “I’m going to murder the niggas that did this to you. Don’t worry about it, ma. I’ma take care of you. I’ma take care of everything!”
* * *
Mecca pulled recklessly up to the hospital doors. When he’d gotten the text to come straight to Baptist Hospital, a wave of relief washed over him. He too had been searching all day and night for Breeze. They found her! he thought gratefully. He couldn’t wait to see her face. He promised himself that now that he had her back, he would never allow anything to happen to her ever again. He left his car at the entrance, causing the security guard to approach him.
“Sir, you need to move your car. You can’t park it there.”
Mecca noticed some members of The Cartel standing near the entrance, and tossed them his keys. “Take care of it,” he instructed as he rushed inside.
When Mecca stepped off of the elevator, he saw Zyir pacing back and forth. He rushed toward him. “Where is she?” Mecca asked.
Zyir nodded his head toward the room door and said, “Carter’s inside with her now, but Mecca, it’s not—”
Before Zyir could finish his sentence, Mecca rushed inside the room. “Breeze!” he yelled as he rushed over to Carter.
Carter stood suddenly. He thinks it’s Breeze, he thought as he stood and pushed Mecca backwards. “Mecca, wait … it’s not her. It’s not Breeze.”
Mecca pushed past Carter and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Miamor lying in the bed. Hate filled his heart when he realized who it was, and that his attempts to kill her had failed. “This dirty-ass bitch!” he yelled as he lunged for the bed.
Seeing Mecca’s rage toward Miamor sent Carter over the edge. Brother against brother, Carter grabbed Mecca by his neck and slammed him against the wall. Mecca struggled against Carter, but the forearm that was pressed against his throat had him off balance, giving Carter the upper hand.
Carter put his finger in Mecca’s face. “Fuck is wrong wit’ you, fam?” he seethed, his eyes deadly as he hemmed Mecca up.
Mecca pushed Carter off of him, breathing hard from anger.
“I thought she was Breeze!” Mecca yelled as he punched a hole through the hospital wall. “Fuck!” he screamed as he glared at Miamor and shook his hand in pain. The only thing standing between him bringing her the death that she deserved was his brother, Carter. “You in here worried about this bitch, and my sister is out there somewhere!”
Their confrontation was interrupted when a man entered the room, wearing a lab coat and carrying a chart. “Gentlemen, I’m Doctor Shaw,” the white man introduced. “We’ve been waiting for someone to claim this young woman. You are?”
Mecca glared at Miamor with a hatred that Carter had never seen. Carter contained himself and approached Mecca. He could understand how Miamor had taken Mecca by surprise, but he did not appreciate the disrespect. He took a deep breath, and walked up on him then whispered in his ear. “Now isn’t the time or the place for this. Now, I don’t know what the fuck you got against her, but whatever it is, you settle that shit. Now that I found her, she’s gon’ be around, so get used to it. If you ever come out your mouth again about her, I’ma handle you, my nigga. Believe that. Now, you need to go for a walk. Use all of that energy you got and use it to find Breeze, and put the word out to find the nigga who is responsible for doing this to Miamor.” Under normal conditions, Carter would never threaten his brother, but seeing the larceny in Mecca toward Miamor had forced him into a protective rage over his woman.
Mecca stormed out of the room, startling Zyir. “I’ma murder that bitch!” he heard Mecca mumble as he passed by.
Zyir looked back in the room to see what had gone down, but Carter closed the door, then turned to focus his attention on the doctor. He took a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke.
“I apologize for my brother’s behavior, Dr. Shaw, I’m Carter Jones,” he said as he extended his hand.
“How do you know the patient?” the doctor inquired.
“She’s my fiancée,” Carter explained. “Can you tell me how this happened? How is she?”
The doctor sighed and checked Miamor’s vitals as he began to explain her condition. “No one knows exactly what happened to her, Mr. Jones. She was found like this outside of an abandoned house. She’s in a coma. She has severe head trauma, and she’s had numerous blood transfusions. She has three broken ribs, and her jawbone is shattered. If she ever wakes up, she may want to consider reconstructive surgery to correct the jaw. She also has chemical poisoning. There were high levels of toxins found in her blood. Whoever did this to her never intended for her to survive. She’s strong. I have never seen someone hold on for this long after everything she’s been through.”
Carter found the news extremely hard to hear, and his stomach was in knots as he stared at Miamor. “Will she ever wake up?”
The doctor sighed. “That I cannot answer for you. The good news is we ran a CT scan on her, which revealed high levels of brain activity. She’s thinking, and still has the capacity to function mentally. She may even be able to hear you, but for some reason right now she can’t come into a conscious state. Only time will tell.”
Carter found the news extremely hard to bear. He put his hand on his head, rubbing the waves on his freshly cut Caesar, and took a deep breath. “The machines?” he asked, his voice cracking from emotion. He cleared his throat and continued, “Why is she hooked up to so many machines?”
“One of her lungs isn’t functioning properly. We have her on a ventilator to ensure that she is getting enough oxygen. Once the lung heals and kicks ba
ck in, she should be able to breathe on her own. Until then, I will do all that I can to make her comfortable,” the doctor said with sympathy.
Carter shook his head. “Thank you, Dr. Shaw, but I’m taking her home where I know she will be safe.” Carter walked out of the room to where Zyir was waiting in the hallway with a briefcase in his hands. Carter took the case and popped it open. Inside, $100,000 lay in neat bundles. “I’m sure this will take care of any resources that your hospital has used to treat her.”
Despite the doctor’s protests, Carter took Miamor back to the Diamond Estate. He had a room set up for her where all of her medical needs would be met. He sat down next to Miamor’s bed. The night had been long, and the sunrise crept over the horizon and illuminated the room as he gripped her hand, his emotions running wild. A .9mm sat in his lap. The hum of the medical machines was torture to his ears.
First Breeze, now this, Carter thought, overwhelmed. He hadn’t found peace since he had come to Miami. He did not know how his father had ever handled the massive empire that he had built with such ease. Carter felt like everything and everyone he loved was slipping through his fingers. Maybe this is why my father walked away from my mother, so that he would not have to watch her suffer at the hands of the game. I should have followed my first mind and kept Miamor at a distance. If I had walked away from her, this would have never happened, he thought miserably. His father’s logic made much more sense to him now as he watched Miamor fight for her life.
He lowered his head and rested his face in the palm of his hands. He picked up his cell and dialed Mecca’s number. He needed his brother. He couldn’t handle all of the chaos alone, and he was not trying to lose the only family he had left.
Carter did not know that in order to keep Miamor, he was going to have to let Mecca go. He would eventually have to choose one or the other, because there was no way that Mecca and Miamor could ever co-exist.
The Cartel 2: Tale of the Murda Mamas Page 9