by Ashley
“Welcome home brother,” Breeze greeted with a wide smile.
“Thank you B,” Carter replied. He reached down and scooped his son from her arms. “He looks like me,” he whispered. The infant had grown in the months that Carter had been away and now his features were clearly visible. Carter felt pure pride as he admired a mini-version of himself. It was every man’s greatest desire to have a son and Miamor had given him that. He would be forever grateful to her for such an amazing gift. This little person he held in his arms was his heir . . . the carrier of his last name, of his legacy. Miamor stepped to Breeze’s side and kissed her cheek. She then bent down to pick up Monroe Jr. knowing that Breeze was eager to get to Zyir. “Go get your man,” Miamor said with a wink.
Zyir emerged from the second vehicle and Breeze ran to him full speed. He picked her up and kissed her lips sensually. “I should kill you,” she whispered as tears flooded her eyes. “I really thought you were dead. Do you know what you did to me?”
“I know,” Zyir replied as he held her tightly. Nothing but love pulsed through him as he realized how incomplete he had felt without her. “I’ll never make you a widow Breeze,” he promised. He moved her hair out of her face and placed her on her feet. “I love you.”
As soon as the words left his mouth they were followed by the sounds of sirens. Breeze peered over his shoulder in alarm as she saw the many police cars pulling onto the property.
“Why are they here so soon?” Monroe asked as he emerged from the car. He rushed over to his son and pulled the toddler into a warm embrace.
“Daddy!” his son shouted in excitement.
“I love you Money,” Monroe said. Tears built in his eyes because the short lived reunion was hardly enough. He had hoped to spend a few days with his son before turning himself in. “Take care of mama for me okay? You’re the man of the house. Daddy has to go away for a little while longer, but I’m always thinking about you man. I’ll always come back for you. You’re my strong man?” he asked. His son nodded his head. Monroe knew that the young boy couldn’t comprehend exactly what was happening, but he felt obligated to say all these things before he was taken away. Monroe was becoming emotional at the fact that he was about to miss the next five years of his son’s life. It was a long time to miss of a young child’s upbringing. This was a long good-bye and he only hoped that one day his son would understand. Leena knelt down next to them.
“Tell daddy you love him Money,” she said. She grabbed Monroe’s hand as they embraced their son.
“Love you daddy,” the toddler spoke.
“We both love you Monroe and we’ll wait . . . for however long it takes,” she promised.
Monroe kissed both of their foreheads and then stood to his feet. Carter and Zyir came to his side as the wives and children stepped back.
Carter handed his son off to Miamor and etched her face into his memory. He kissed her lips. “Everything will be okay. I’ll be there, visiting you, writing you, whatever you need,” she assured. Carter nodded and in that moment held so much respect for her. A lot of women made the promise to ride it out but very few actually came through. He knew that this was one thing he didn’t need to worry about. If Miamor said it, she meant it and suddenly he was plagued with guilt for betraying her with Yasmine. A part of him wanted to confess his sins to her but he knew her too well. She would hate him forever because while she had been back in Miami fighting for him, he had been fucking the next chick. That resentment would only grow while he was locked up and it would tear them apart. He needed her. He loved her, even when his actions spoke otherwise. Miamor would be his motivation to keep his nose clean inside. Prison was a whole new world. Once you went behind the wall there was never a guarantee that you would emerge. five years could easily turn into forever if they caught a new charge. Miamor nodded her head and blew Carter a kiss as he was taken into federal custody. It was now up to the three of them to keep The Cartel afloat and to move them into the next era.
Leena picked up her son and turned around. “I’m not staying to witness this. We’re done with this street shit,” Leena said firmly. “When they get out, I want them to come home to something legit. I never want my son to see his father off to prison again.”
Leena stormed into the house as Breeze and Miamor shot each other a glance of sympathy. The two women huddled close to each other as Miamor cradled her son. It was a new day and as their men were carted away like common criminals Miamor knew that Leena was right. It was time to move forward in a different direction. It was time for maturation.
Chapter 14
“This feels like the end Mia.”
—Carter
Miamor sat next to Carter as she clasped his shackled hand. Their attorney, Rosenberg spoke on his behalf. Money and Zyir had already signed their plea deals. Carter was last up and although in her heart Miamor knew that this was necessary, it still didn’t feel right. Maybe it would have been better to let him stay on the run, she thought. At least than he would be a free man.
As Broome ran down the terms of the plea bargain Carter was stoic. His expressionless face was hard to read. He almost appeared numb to it all. Prison was a place that he had promised himself to never go. He would have much rather let his legend die in the streets, under a hail of bullets, than to let it become obsolete in a prison cell. He didn’t want to be another hood legend forgotten. The steel bars and brick walls had a way of keeping you out of sight and out of mind. He feared that the most. Everything that he had built, everything that The Cartel had accomplished would become a memory. For an inmate, life froze in place. The only two days that mattered was the day you went in and the day you got out. On the outside, however, life moved on and he knew that eventually even his woman would disappear. He wanted to think of her as the exception, but time waited for no man. Miamor was beautiful and smart, not to mention cunning. Another boss with another organization, perhaps in a different city would eventually spot her and claim her as his own. She was a kingpin’s perfect prize.
“Carter,” Miamor whispered, sensing something was wrong with her man. He looked up at her. She frowned because in all the time that she had known him, she had never seen him look so unsure. Indecision, was not a quality that he often exuded.
“Please clear the room,” she said. “I’d like a moment alone with Carter before he pleads out.”
“That isn’t protocol,” Broome began.
Miamor shot him a look so deadly that it silenced him into submission.
“You have two minutes,” Broome said as he stood and escorted Rosenberg out of the room.
“This feels like the end Mia,” Carter admitted. “The end of The Cartel, the end of us, the end of it all. Shit is fucked up. There is no way I can keep control from the inside.”
“This is the beginning Carter. Five years is not long enough to scare me away. You don’t worry about anything. I will keep it all together. You just have to trust me,” Miamor said.
Carter nodded and kissed her lips. “Whatever you do you keep it out of my ear. I don’t expect you to wait, but I expect you to be respectful. Don’t tarnish my name ma,” he stated seriously. He was a realist. He had seen this same situation play out too many times before not to know how it ended.
“I only want you,” she reassured. What he didn’t realize was that he was it for her. She truly only had eyes for one man. “I don’t want you to doubt me Carter. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, in order for you to trust me. Let’s get married. Right here, today. You know me. I’ll never break that vow.”
“And you know me, I’d never trap you with that vow,” Carter replied. “When I marry you, you’ll be in a white dress. You’ll have the violins and white doves and hundreds of guests . . . because you deserve that. I’ll never trap you. I don’t want you stuck with me because you have to be . . .”
“I want to be stuck with you forever Carter. Whether you’re next to me every night or not. I’ll wait and I don’t need no fancy shit to do that. I just
need your promise to love me and to be faithful to me,” she said sincerely.
“I’m about to be property of the federal government for five years ma. You realize that?” he asked.
“I will ride with you through whatever,” she promised. “If this is what I have to do to prove that than let me. Or am I just not the type you think of when you think of a wife?”
Carter leaned into her, but the handcuffs that bound him to his chair stopped him from fully reaching her. She met him halfway. When they kissed Miamor could have sworn she heard angels singing. That’s how pure their love felt. “You know better than that,” Carter replied. “No other type could ever be my wife. It’s always been you.”
Broome opened the door and entered with Rosenberg on his tail, interrupting their brief moment. Miamor realized it would be a long time before they ever truly had privacy again.
“We want to fill out an application for marriage. We’d like to make it happen before he goes in,” Miamor said.
Broome loosened his tie. She had him by the balls and all of her requests were making him appear weak to his colleagues. She was pushing the limits of their arrangement, but what could he do? Since Carter had not yet pled guilty, the approval of the marriage request was up to Broome’s discretion, not some warden. Before he could respond Miamor said, “Make it happen, we’ll wait. After we are married, Carter will sign your deal and enter his guilty plea.”
Carter was amazed at how Miamor was running the show. She had the P.A. jumping through hoops at the drop of a dime. As a judge was summoned, the couple stood in front of one another. “Are you sure this is how you want to do this Miamor?” Carter asked.
She nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I love you. I don’t need the pomp and circumstance,” she assured.
Her answer held nothing but truth and as they stood two people reciting vows in a downtown federal building, they became one. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t as she had imagined. They were perfect for each other and it didn’t matter that they were being thrust into imperfect circumstances.
“I now pronounce you, man and wife,” the judge said dryly. It wasn’t perfect or romantic, but it was official and that’s all that either of them wanted. Miamor smiled. “You may kiss your bride.”
They didn’t even give Carter the ability to wrap his hands around his new wife. They kept him handcuffed, but it didn’t matter. His mouth found hers anyway and this one kiss elevated their bond to the next level. She could feel his energy pulsing through her body as if suddenly she knew what true love felt like. Broome gave them no time to celebrate before he got back to the task at hand.
“Hmm, hmm,” he cleared his throat and slid the paperwork across the desk.
Carter felt Miamor’s hand rubbing his back softly in support as he leaned over, fumbling with the pen because both of his hands were locked by the cuffs. He put his John Hancock sloppily on the paper in front of him and was instantly whisked off.
“I believe this ends our business,” Broome stated as he looked at Miamor smugly. “Hope you have some frequent flier miles,” he said. “I’m shipping those sons of bitches to a federal institution in Colorado.” It was his way of making things difficult.
Miamor turned and walked out of the office. She wasn’t angry, she had anticipated some type of kink in the plan. As she slid into her chauffeured SUV she dialed Aries.
“Miamor, is everything good?” Aries asked.
“As good as to be expected right now,” Miamor replied. “I need you to put me in touch with Timmy Bono.”
“Sure, but what do you have up your sleeve bitch?” Aries asked with laughter in her voice. She knew Miamor too well and could only imagine why she needed to be put in contact with the notorious Italian mobster.
“Nothing beats the cross,” Miamor started.
“Like the double cross,” Aries finished. “Consider it done.”
Chapter 15
“Look around. You’re the only one of your kind for a reason.”
—Man at the bar
The dimmed yellow light illuminated the smoky bar as incoherent chatter filled the air. The exclusive spot may as well have had a no-blacks allowed sign on the door because as soon as Miamor stepped foot inside, she was out of place. All conversations ceased as she walked toward the bar. Her expensive heels crunched peanuts under her feet as she made her way through the down home establishment. She slid into a stool next to a young Italian man. He gave her a once over and then poured the remainder of his drink down his throat in one swig.
“You lost sweet heart?” he asked.
“No, this is exactly where I need to be,” she replied.
“Look around. You’re the only one of your kind for a reason,” the man said. “Although I must say I don’t mind the view, you know what I mean?” He raised his hand and motioned for the bartender. The older Italian man had skin as rough as leather. His greasy, black, hair was slicked back off of his face, his top lip completely covered in a bushy mustache. Miamor could see the depth in his eyes and she would put her life on it that the hunch of his back was caused by the many secrets he had weighing down his soul. These four walls have probably witnessed some crazy shit, she thought.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked as he glanced at Miamor.
“When’s the last time you saw someone like this in the bar? Eh, Fred?” the man beside her asked.
The bartender tapped his finger on the bar and said, “A black girl in a bar is the least of my worries Sonny. Don’t be a jackass,” the bartender said sternly. He turned to Miamor. “What can I do for you sweet heart?”
Miamor lowered her voice. “I need to see Timmy Bono,” she said
The bartender grabbed the bar rag and began to clean the countertops as he shook his head back and forth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about toots. I don’t know anyone by that name. Sure you got the right spot?” he asked.
Miamor had expected to hit this roadblock so she had come prepared. She slid an envelope out of her handbag and placed it on the bar. She tapped it with her blood red fingernail. “After he sees this, he’ll want to see me too,” she said calmly.
The bartender discreetly grabbed the envelope and then disappeared without saying a word. Miamor kept her hand in her purse as she palmed the .45 that rested at the bottom of it. When she saw the wooden door that was hidden in the back shadows of the bar open up she knew that Timmy Bono was there. The bartender returned.
“Go through that back door there,” he said.
Miamor arose from her seat and walked into the back. As soon as she stepped foot inside the door closed behind her. She spun to see two goons posted on the sides of the door. She looked at the man sitting behind the wooden desk in front of her . . . Timmy Bono.
“Please have a seat,” he offered.
“I’d rather stand,” Miamor said as she shifted uncomfortably.
“My men are going to search you,” Timmy Bono said.
She held her hands out at her sides while gripping her bag in one of them as one of the goons stepped up. His hands searched her body gropingly, but he was so distracted by her curves that he neglected to go through her bag. “I’m clean, I’m not a cop,” she spat harshly when she felt him palm her behind.
“So, what brings a pretty little thing like you into my bar?” he asked.
“I’m here to extend my friendship,” Miamor said. She removed another envelope from her bag and placed pictures before him. “Daniel Broome has been building a racketeering case against you. All of the illegal bets that you have placed for him were caught on wire taps.”
“Who are you? How do you know all of this? And what do you have to gain by telling me all of this. If I’ve learned one thing in my line of business it is that people who come in the form of friends are often truly enemies,” Timmy Bono responded with dark eyes.
“I’m neither,” Miamor answered. “I’m a woman with information,” she said. “I choose my alliances very wisely and care
fully. I’m sure you are familiar with The Cartel.”
“The Diamond family,” Timmy Bono said. “We call them the black mafia.” Bono laughed heartily and his voice boomed loudly in amusement. “I am familiar with The Cartel.”
“I am the head of The Cartel now and like I said, I would like to be friends,” Miamor said.
“The head of The Cartel?” Timmy Bono asked. “What type of show are yous running over there?”
“That is not your concern. All you should know is that you have a problem with P.A. Daniel Broome. Don’t say that I didn’t try to warn you when the Feds come kicking in your door,” Miamor said.
She turned and headed for the door.
“What’s your name? Ms. new head of the cartel?” Timmy Bono asked.
“Miamor,” she replied with a smile. “Don’t let the good looks fool you Mr. Bono.” She nodded toward the pictures on his desk. “Don’t take my warning lightly.”
Timmy Bono nodded as he watched Miamor walk from the room. She sighed in relief, but didn’t release the hold on her bag until she was tucked safely in the car. As she collapsed in the passenger seat she looked over at Aries.
“Everything smooth?” Aries asked.
Miamor shook her head. “I don’t know,” she replied. She wasn’t sure if Timmy Bono would act on her advice, but if he was anything like her he would eradicate Broome just to be safe. Revenge would be hers and she wouldn’t even have to lift a pretty finger . . . all Miamor had to do was sit back and enjoy the show.
Chapter 16
“You’re my world, Zyir.”
—Breeze