The Cartel Deluxe Edition, Part 2

by Ashley

  “Time to get dressed, ma. Playtime’s over,” he said. “And be careful not to wake her.” He motioned toward Miamor as Lucy nodded in compliance.

  He walked out of the bedroom, giving Lucy some privacy. He walked to the spare bedroom and opened the closet. It looked like a military arsenal inside. He removed two handguns and put them into his shoulder holsters. He placed one in his waistline. He didn’t anticipate a problem with Buttons. They had done business amicably for too long for anything to go wrong, but he never went anywhere without his strap. It was just another accessory for him.

  He wrote a note for Miamor and placed it on the kitchen counter.

  “Hmm-hmm.”

  Lucy cleared her throat behind him and he turned around to face her. He pulled his Armani leather wallet out of his pocket and removed a card.

  “Last night was good, papi. Anytime you and your girlfriend are in Rio, please look me up. I’d love to see both of you again,” she whispered as she stood close to him, so close that he smelled the peppermint on her breath.

  Carter handed her the card. “You call that number and my man will take care of you. Five thousand dollars for the night.”

  Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m not a hooker.”

  “I never implied that, sweetheart, but those tips you’re getting at the club can’t possibly take you very far. Accept the money on behalf of me and my lady. For the good time you showed us last night,” he replied.

  “Wow, papi,” she replied. “That girl in there really is lucky. I hope she knows.”

  “Nah, I’m the lucky one,” Carter answered. He extended his arm for her to walk out in front of him, and they headed for the door.

  His driver was standing attentively out front. “My driver will take you anywhere you need to go,” Carter said.

  Lucy smiled and bid farewell to Carter as he watched her get into the car. He waited until it pulled away before he signaled for one of the local cabbies who sat along the street.

  Carter’s mind immediately shifted to business as he entered the shabby vehicle. He gave directions to Buttons’ home as he sat low while the speed of the cab caused the streets to fly by in a blur.

  As the cab drew closer to Buttons’ private estate, the cab driver spoke up. “I didn’t even know this road existed until a few weeks ago, and now this is the second time I’ve come here. You Americans must know something we don’t,” he said.

  Carter frowned as he sat up in his seat. No one knew of Buttons’ whereabouts except for The Cartel. This spot practically didn’t exist, so the fact that the cabbie had been there before alarmed Carter.

  “You say you’ve been here before? Recently?” he asked.

  Carter could see Buttons’ home in the near distance as the cab hobbled down the extremely bumpy, underdeveloped road.

  “Yeah, another American came here a while back. A bigshot from Miami. He tipped me a pretty penny. Isn’t that what you Americans say?”

  Carter reached in his holster and removed a pistol as he cocked it, suddenly feeling as though he had eyes on him. He looked around him, feeling threatened.

  “Yo, my man. Do you remember the man’s name that you drove out here?” Carter asked.

  “Oh sí, senor! He was the money man! Money was his name,” the cab driver stated.

  As soon as the words filled the air, bullets filled the car. The rear windshield shattered as bullets flew, causing glass to rain down over him.

  “Fuck!” Carter yelled out as he ducked in the back seat. “Drive!”

  The cab driver didn’t move as Carter pointed his gun out of the back of the car and fired.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  A van of three gunmen had pulled up behind him. His 9 mms were no match for the rapid blasts of the AK-47s of Buttons’ goons. He was a sitting duck.

  He turned to encourage the driver to go, but quickly discovered that the man was slumped over the steering wheel. Carter busted back, using his marksman aim, but the way the car was being Swiss cheesed, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before one of the bullets would deliver his end.

  Sweat covered his brow as he threw his gun in frustration after emptying the clip.

  TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT!

  He removed another pistol and let it spit as he pushed open the back door of the cab. As soon as he crawled out, a biting burn penetrated his left shoulder.

  “Agh!” he shouted as the blast sent him flying backward, flooring him. He lay perfectly still as blood flooded from the wound in his shoulder. He bit his inner jaw as pain seared through him, but he lay still.

  The firing stopped as the men spoke in Spanish. One of them approached, and Carter heard the footsteps crunching against the dirt as they drew near. His finger was already wrapped around the trigger of his gun as he lay with his eyes closed.

  The other two goons stayed back as their comrade went to check Carter’s status. The goon stood over him, seeing the blood that now covered Carter’s entire shirt. Carter held his breath, not wanting to give away the fact that he was alive.

  “He’s dead!” the goon called out.

  Carter prayed that Buttons’ men weren’t as thorough as his own. Zyir or any of his other goons would have put a bullet in his head just for good measure, just to make sure that the job was done. Luckily for him, this did not happen.

  “Let’s get out of here!” he heard one of them call out as the goon standing over him rushed back to the escape van. Carter waited until he heard the van pull away before he rolled over onto his side.

  Groaning and in extreme pain, he heaved as he leaned against the cab. He was soaked in his own blood and feared the worst. He struggled to his feet and then pulled open the driver’s door.

  “Arghh!” he roared as the pain in his shoulder vibrated throughout his entire body. He pulled the driver out and left his dead body in the dirt as he got into the bullet-riddled car, skirting off at full speed as he raced back to Miamor.

  * * *

  Miamor slowly came out of the sex- and drug-induced fog as she opened her eyes. The bed was empty and the room bright as the sun blared through the open windows. She could smell the salty ocean coming in with the breeze and she sat up, groggily, as she meandered to her feet.

  “Carter!” she called as she walked out of the bedroom. She half expected to find him sexing Lucy on the living room balcony. I’d kill him, she thought with a laugh, shaking her head because she knew that her jealousy over her man would rear its ugly head sooner or later. She found the entire villa empty and then went into the kitchen. Her mouth was extremely dry and as she opened the refrigerator she finally noticed the note that Carter had left. It was placed underneath a 45 mm pistol. She smiled as she moved the gun and picked up the letter.

  Gone to handle business. Be back shortly. I love you.

  —C

  Miamor crumbled the note in her hand and poured herself a glass of orange juice before retreating to the bathroom. Suddenly she felt hot and her mouth watered as vomit tickled the back of her throat. She lunged for the toilet and buried her head inside as she keeled over, her insides erupting. What the fuck is wrong with me? What did Lucy give me last night? she thought as her stomach clenched and she vomited again. Miamor breathed heavily as she closed her eyes and stood.

  She leaned over the sink to rinse out her mouth, then headed for the shower. She turned on the water and tested it, placing her hands underneath the stream before she stepped inside. The rain showerhead was soothing as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the tiny beads of water that massaged her entire body as they fell upon her.

  Her body felt alive after last night’s rendezvous, and she shook her head as she opened her mouth, inviting the water to rinse away her sins. When Miamor opened her eyes, a shadow danced on the door of the bathroom, followed by a creak of the hardwood floor. She swiped her hand across her face and looked again, but nothing was there except for the blowing sheer curtain that covered the window.

  Miamor’s heart thumped rapidly
inside of her chest. She had lived years of this paranoia, watching over her shoulder, thinking everyone was out to get her. She saw ghosts when no one was there, but in her years of being in the game she learned one thing: to always follow her gut.

  Miamor slid out of the back of the shower curtain but left the water running as she hid behind the door. She knew that it couldn’t be Carter. He knew her checkered past. He would have announced himself before sneaking up on her.

  She winced when she thought about the gun that she had left lying on the kitchen counter. She would have to do this the hard way. She picked up the porcelain cover to the toilet and waited behind the door. She felt foolish after a minute passed and nothing happened.

  Am I tripping? she thought.

  When she heard the door creak open, she knew that she was on point. A masked man entered the bathroom quietly, moving with the stealth of a clumsy-ass giant. If he thought he would catch her slipping, he had another think coming. Compared to her murder game, this goon was an amateur, or at least he moved like one.

  Miamor knew that he had an advantage over her because he was armed and twice her size. She waited, and just as he reached for the shower curtain she charged him. She lifted the heavy top over her head.

  “Agh!” she yelled from her gut as she brought it crashing down over his head. She lifted her foot and kicked him in his back, sending his him flying into the bathtub. He fell clumsily inside as the gun fell from his hand. Miamor had no time to reach for it as the man fumbled out of the tub. She saw his hand wrap around the gun, and she closed the shower curtain, blocking his view as she darted for the window.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  She dove headfirst out of the window as the glass tore through her skin and she fell fifteen feet to the sandy beach below. She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. She staggered to her feet as she looked around, her vision slightly blurry from hitting her head.

  Shaking the stars from her eyes, she gripped the side of the house as she ran up the back stairs that led directly to the kitchen. She raced to the gun that lay on the counter and gritted her teeth as she saw red. She cocked the pistol, and just as she stepped toward the bathroom, the goon came stumbling out. She aimed.

  BOOM! BOOM!

  She hit him with two shots—one in the head and one in the heart. He dropped to his knees then landed face first into the hardwood floor.

  “Bitch-ass nigga,” she mumbled as she stepped over his dead body and went into the bedroom. She quickly threw on her clothes from the night before. She moved as fast as she could until Carter’s voice boomed through the villa.

  “Miamor!” he yelled.

  She rushed out to him. “Carter!” she gasped when she saw that he was bloody. She covered the room in a flash as he gripped his shoulder in agony.

  “I’m fine!” he shouted urgently. “We’ve got to get out of here now. Grab the passports. Get a gun and let’s go.”

  Miamor took instruction well and didn’t freeze under pressure. She sprang into action, gathering their belongings and two handguns. She also grabbed anything that looked as if it could help her stop Carter’s bleeding before they exited the villa. Carter’s driver opened the door in alarm.

  “To the airstrip as quickly as possible,” Carter instructed.

  * * *

  Zyir sat at the kitchen table as he watched Breeze cook.

  “I love the way you move, ma,” he said as she turned toward him. He smiled, causing her to blush.

  “Oh yeah?” she asked as she sashayed over to her husband. “I love that you love it,” she responded. He opened his legs and pulled Breeze into his space as she bent to kiss his lips. His hands slid up her dress.

  DING! DONG!

  The doorbell rang and he groaned, knowing that whoever had visited had interrupted their flow.

  “You expecting anyone?”

  Breeze shook her head and removed her apron as she went toward the front entrance. “It’s probably Leena. I haven’t heard from her much since she moved out, but some of her stuff is still here. Maybe she’s coming to pick it up,” Breeze said.

  “Tell Leena to call first next time!” Zyir said with a wink.

  Breeze chuckled as she pulled open the door.

  “Money!” she exclaimed. She opened her arms for a hug. “Hey! What’s up?”

  Money smiled at the sight of Breeze. He truly loved and worshipped the ground that his sister walked on. Ever since they were children he had always protected her. Now she stood, the image of beauty in front of his face. She reminded him so much of their mother that it was uncanny.

  He had gotten the call from Buttons that the execution was a success, so he was coming over to be with his sister. He knew that she would take the news hard when the phone call of Zyir’s death came in. He expected it at any moment.

  “You gonna leave me out here on your doorstep?” he asked playfully, holding out his hands as he looked around.

  “No, of course not. Come in. Me and Zy were just about to sit down to eat. You want to stay for dinner?” she asked.

  “Zy?” Monroe questioned, confused. “I thought Zyir was in Rio.”

  Zyir suddenly walked into the room. “Change of plans. Carter went in my place,” Zyir stated.

  Monroe’s face drained of all color as his eyes widened in alarm.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he asked.

  Zyir frowned and noticed that Monroe appeared worried. “Why would anyone need to tell you?” he asked.

  “I’ve got to get out of here. I forgot I’ve got a late meeting,” Monroe stammered as he backed out of the house.

  “A meeting? At nine o’clock at night?” Zyir grilled.

  Monroe shifted uncomfortably in his stance, feeling transparent as if Zyir could see the guilt resting on his shoulders. “You a’ight?” Zyir asked as he stepped to Monroe suspiciously, placing one hand on Monroe’s shoulder.

  Monroe shrugged Zyir’s hand off and stared him in the eyes. Breeze watched the tense moment in confusion. Neither Zyir nor Monroe broke the hard stare.

  “Zyir,” Breeze called his name. “Monroe!” Breeze shouted once she saw that there was an obvious beef between the two men she loved. “What is going on? What are you two not telling me? What is wrong?” she demanded as she looked back and forth between them.

  Zyir stepped back, allowing his wife to separate him from Monroe. “Nothing’s wrong, baby girl. Right, Monroe? Everything’s good in our camp? No snake niggas calling plays or no shit like that? Monroe Diamond.” His voice was accusatory and his glare no nonsense as he stood his ground, his hands folded in front of him as he emphasized each word with a head nod in Monroe’s direction.

  The way Zyir stared at him made Monroe’s temper flare and his conscience as well. He was eager to get out of the house and make a call to Buttons. He had unknowingly given the green light for Carter, his flesh and blood, to be murdered.

  “Everything’s good, Breeze,” Monroe said. He leaned in and kissed his sister’s cheek and then walked off, obviously stressed.

  Breeze stood back and folded her arms as she cocked her neck to the side. “What was that?” she asked.

  “Leave it alone,” Zyir snapped as he stormed off, retreating to his study.

  * * *

  Carter was silent as Miamor nursed his wound as best she could. They were thirty thousand feet in the air and she was far from a doctor, but she managed to slow down his bleeding.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked sympathetically.

  “I’ll be fine, ma. Don’t worry yourself. I just need to get back to Miami as soon as possible,” Carter said as his thoughts drifted to his disloyal brother.

  “Who did this?” Miamor asked.

  “Monroe,” Carter replied.

  Miamor saw Mecca’s face flash before her eyes. “I guess he wasn’t the good twin after all,” she whispered. She kissed his cheek and took her seat as Carter grunted an inaudible response.

  After taking Mecca’s life, he kn
ew that taking Monroe’s was not something that he wanted to do.

  “It’s time to settle all scores,” Carter said as he grabbed Miamor’s hand. “Yours as well. I’m calling a meeting and we are going to settle this once and for all. I’m tired of the treachery tearing this family apart.”

  “So you’re going to forgive him?” Miamor asked.

  “Didn’t I forgive you?” he responded.

  Chapter 12

  “Today we are each other’s judge,

  jury, and executioner.”

  —Carter

  Miamor sat at the table terrified as the eyes of the Diamond family burned holes through her. Never in her life had she felt so persecuted. It was if she had a scarlet letter burnt into her forehead. The family was divided, and she knew that she was a big part of the turmoil, if not the cause itself. She felt naked, like a deer in hunting season, as she sat next to Carter. A 9 mm would have put her mind at ease, but she had promised Carter that she would give up that lifestyle. She had to play the role of wifey and as such, she had to allow him to be her protector. Old habits died hard, however, and Miamor’s trigger finger twitched against the table as she kept a stone face while staring straight ahead.

  Carter placed his hand on her thigh beneath the table and gave it a gentle squeeze, reassuring her that she was safe. As long as she was sitting next to him, no one dared to harm her, but it didn’t put her mind at ease. Considering that Monroe had sent goons at Carter in Rio, it let her know that he wouldn’t even blink at the thought of killing her. She inhaled deeply as Carter stood. His arm was bandaged and in a sling; his anger was etched in a grimace on his handsome face.

  “Our empire is in jeopardy. We’ve faced a lot of adversaries over the years—the Haitians, the drug cartel out of Mexico—and we’re still here. We’re still standing, but we won’t be for long if we don’t air out our grievances. There is nothing worse than a snake in the grass. Deceit within our own organization is the only thing that will make The Cartel fall. We each have our own sins that we have committed over the years. The game doesn’t allow you to make it this far without having some regrets. Those secrets are our greatest threat. We have to keep The Cartel strong or the little niggas lurking and preying will tear us apart. If there is one crack, one weak link, the entire team will fall,” Carter said as he walked around the table, addressing his loved ones.