by Ashley
“Bitch!” Miamor shouted as she flung her to the floor, her rage giving her the strength of a madwoman.
“Oh shit!” Carter exclaimed as he stood to his feet. The room spun around him and he stumbled as he reached for Miamor. What the fuck happened? He thought. The paraphernalia that was strewn about the room told a story of a night of lust and he grimaced, cursing himself. He truly had a limited memory of what had gone down, but one thing was blatantly clear, he had fucked up. There was no stopping Miamor. She was locked on like a pit as she viciously delivered blows to Yasmine’s face.
“I. . .”
PUNCH.
“TOLD . . .”
PUNCH.
“YOU . . .”
PUNCH.
“NOT . . .”
PUNCH. PUNCH. PUNCH.
“TO FUCK WITH ME.”
Carter tried his hardest to get between the two women but his world was moving in slow motion. He could barely move. He was weak, legs wobbly, head unclear, stomach churning. He was incapacitated and could barely remember what had happened the night before. Images of what had occurred flashed in his mind. His body intertwined with Yasmine’s, his fingers fisting her hair, her mouth kissing all over him. He saw it all. He had fucked up. No matter how unintentional his actions were, he had betrayed his woman. He could only imagine the sting that plagued her heart. “Mia chill!” he barked as he tried to pry Miamor off. He tried holding her back, but in his current state she shook him with ease. Miamor was relentless. “You’re going to kill her!” Carter felt woozy and he didn’t have all of his strength, which allowed Miamor to get the best of him. He was surprised she didn’t turn on him with her blows. Miamor was going for broke.
What the fuck? He thought as he shook his head while pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to steady himself. “Miamor!”
Hearing him scream her name with such aggression caused her to stop, fist raised in the air as she panted over Yasmine. The girl groaned beneath her, nose busted and crying. Yasmine covered her face as she rolled left to right in agony.
“You defending this bitch?” Miamor asked. She was so upset that she could barely catch her breath. It felt like she was hyperventilating as she leaned over, resting on her knees as complete agony took over her body. Carter saw the hurt in her face and it almost brought him to his knees.
Damn, I fucked up, he thought. His mind couldn’t piece together the part of the night where Yasmine had drugged him. All he knew was that he had messed up and now the fall out was about to begin.
“Let me talk to you for a minute ma. Let me explain,” he whispered. He went to touch her but she cringed as she slapped his hands away. He stumbled. Get your shit together. Tell your wife something before you lose her, Carter told himself. But what could he say? She had caught him . . . hand in the cookie jar. How the fuck did I slip up this much? he wondered. This shit is just sloppy. Hitting Yasmine in the suite that Miamor has complete access to. There was no lying his way out of this and even if lies would get him off the hook, he wouldn’t tell them. It wasn’t in his character. He was tired of telling half-truths. He had done it. Why? He still couldn’t make sense of it. How had he let himself take it this far when he had been so determined to keep her at arm’s length? He had no recollection of the night’s events and his head spun as he tried to piece it together. Damn, he thought, legs weak. Head clouded with confusion. He needed to sit.
“Mia,” he said.
Yasmine rolled onto her knees then slowly climbed to her feet. “Fuck this Carter! Don’t lie to her. We don’t have to hide this anymore. Tell her! We’ve been together since you came to Saudi Arabia five years ago!” she shouted as she wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her hand.
“Yasmine chill!” Carter shouted.
“No! I’m not hiding it anymore! She should know!” Yasmine screamed, hysterically, filling the air with falsehoods and fanning Miamor’s emotional flames.
Miamor shook her head in disbelief as tears fell down her cheeks. Her soul was heavy. It felt like she was suffocating as shame fell over her. She looked at him, wrapped in the bed sheet, basking in the afterglow of his rendezvous with another woman. Damn why does this hurt so bad? She thought.
“Mia, I fucked up. Let me talk to you ma. Let me . . .”
“Talk to her,” Miamor said. It was like the sun had fallen out of the sky and the world had come to an end. “I’m done,” she whispered. Carter swiped his face with his hands. Her hurt was hurting him. He wanted to say something to make her stay, but even he was lost. How could he defend what he didn’t understand. He loved her. He loved every single thing about her. How had he fucked this up so badly?
Before he could respond she was gone and he was across the room in a flash, knocking over the lamp because he could barely keep his bearings.
“Carter I’m . . .”
Before Yasmine could even get the words out of her mouth Carter wrapped his hand around her throat, pressing her into the wall. It was like his rage gave him strength as he held her thin body in place. He wanted to choke the life out of her, but he knew that this wasn’t her fault. He had done this. If he hadn’t wanted to sleep with her it never would have happened. No one had forced him into this situation. Somewhere deep down he had allowed her to get into his head. His attraction, their flirtation, their deception was the gasoline that fed the fire. It had started years ago between them in Saudi. He should have stopped it then. He had made this bed, now he had to lay in it. He released her and then punched the wall beside her head. “Just get out,” he whispered. He lowered his head in disgrace. He had been at a crossroads with Miamor before but never over another woman. He knew her well enough to realize that this was one transgression that she would never forget.
* * *
Miamor’s tears blinded her to the point where she stumbled through the casino as she made her way to the front door. She was distraught and a snotty mess as people turned to look at her. She was a walking spectacle. No one had ever seen her so torn apart. Something had permanently broken inside of her as soon as she saw Carter inside of another woman. She had given him too much of herself, holding nothing back and trusting him to take care of her psyche. Now that he had dropped the ball she had nothing reserved for herself . . . no strength . . . no faith . . . no love. Carter had taken it all. Selfish ass nigga! I hate him, I hate him. I will never forgive him for this, she thought.
Her heart was raw and she clenched her chest wishing that the pain would ease. It felt like someone was pouring alcohol over a bleeding wound.
“Miamor!”
She heard Breeze call her name. “Mia! Oh my God! What the hell happened? What’s wrong?” she asked.
Miamor gasped as she tried to tell her but she couldn’t even speak the words. She was weak and the trauma too great. She didn’t even want to hear the words fall out of her mouth.
“Miamor!” When she heard Carter’s voice she shook her head and broke away from Breeze. She rushed through the crowd and out of the door. Fly Boogie was the first person she saw. He was pulling up to the hotel and like always, he was right there whenever she needed him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in confusion as she rushed into his arms.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” she said. “Get me away from him.”
Fly Boogie nodded as he opened the passenger door for her and tucked her safely inside. Just as he got inside himself, Carter and Breeze emerged from the hotel.
“Miamor!” Carter roared. She didn’t even look at him as Fly Boogie pulled away.
* * *
“Aries bring me my son!” Miamor screamed into the phone.
“I can’t Mia,” Aries replied. “Carter’s here and he won’t let me take him anywhere. He’s afraid you’re going to disappear on him again and take CJ with you. Are you okay?”
“Tell him I will murder him in his fucking sleep if he doesn’t deliver my son to me!” Miamor’s rage was real and all she wanted was to see her baby boy. She knew that
his love would be like a dressing to a wound. He could stop the bleeding of her heart.
“Come home ma . . .”
Carter’s voice filled the phone as he intervened on their conversation. She could hear his worry and regret in his tone. Miamor instantly hung up in his face. She knew that if she listened to him for too long she would become dumb to the truth. She wanted him to justify his actions and she would become one of those women who believed bullshit and accepted disrespect. No, she couldn’t talk to him. Ever. Her legs gave out as she collapsed to the floor, sitting in her own misery with her head buried in her hands.
Fly Boogie swiped his face, unsure of what to do. She hadn’t eaten or slept in two days. She just cried. She was the most official chick he had ever met and with the negligence of one man she was now broken. Carter had mishandled her. Fly Boogie walked over to her and scraped her off of the floor as he carried her across the hotel room. He had checked her into a room under his name because she knew that if she used her own, Carter would find her. Normally, Miamor would never let anyone see her so weak, but she couldn’t help it. Life felt over. It would be less painful to put a bullet in her brain and call it a wrap. She was thankful for her son, because had it not been for his existence she was sure she would have done so by now. Murderous thoughts, suicidal thoughts . . . plagued her. She was a woman who had been hurt by a man. Fly Boogie laid her across the bed and turned to leave the room.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
Fly Boogie nodded. “I’m right here. I’m not moving until you move ma. You can lay here and cry that shit out until your system is dry, but if you trust me and you take a ride with me . . . I think I know something that will make you feel better.”
“I can’t,” she whispered as she lay, face stuck to the comforter while she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Well when you’re ready, I’m here. Try to rest,” he replied.
Miamor was grateful for his presence. Having him with her, so loyal, and accommodating didn’t take the hurt away but it did help.
* * *
BANG!
BANG!
BANG! BANG!
BANG!
“I told you to trust me. Every time you’re feeling a type of way you go to the range,” Fly Boogie stated.
“How do you know that?” she asked, shocked.
“I’ve been with you for five years ma. A nigga notices you,” he replied with a wink. She gave him a small smile as she re-aimed her gun.
BANG!
BANG!
His effort was sweet but not even the sound of Miamor’s gun relieved her stress. This time her burden was too great. Shooting practice wasn’t enough to make her forget her problems. She had a fetish for murder and right now she wanted to body something.
“You’re like a surgeon with the burner ma,” Fly Boogie stated as he leaned against his Range Rover, one foot propped up on the fender. There was no one around for miles. The only thing around them was mountains and desert air.
She flipped her hair out of her face and sighed. “This isn’t helping,” she replied. “I just feel like dying. How did this happen?” Her voice was a whisper. A rhetorical question that not even she could answer.
Fly Boogie was silent as she fisted both hands through her hair and closed her eyes as she fought back tears. Carter had blown up her phone all night, along with Breeze, Aries, and Leena. They all had been trying to reach her. Although she didn’t want to be available for anyone, she knew that she couldn’t hide forever. She had a child. It was only a matter of time before natural instincts would lure her home. She felt like she was losing her mind. Her mood was up and down. Her stomach was constantly queasy. She had to get her mind off of Carter. He was all that she could think about. She walked up to Fly Boogie and kissed him out of the blue, melting into him as she pushed him against the hood of his car. She had caught him off guard, but he didn’t resist. He grabbed her ass roughly and then picked her up as she wrapped her legs around him. He was the perfect distraction. He was fly, young, and living the thug life. After doubting herself, wondering what she lacked, or what Yasmine had that she didn’t, it felt good to have a man want only her. His kiss melted her as their tongues danced slowly, passionately. It surprised her when he pulled back. With her still in his arms he whispered, “Damn ma, I could love the shit out of you if you would just let me.” He placed her back on her feet and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You’re only doing this to get back at your man. I think its time I took you home.” He was so honorable, so thorough, and in that moment she knew that if it hadn’t been for her fated romance with Carter, she probably would be Fly Boogie’s girl.
* * *
“I would think that you would enjoy this,” she said. “He fucked up. You’re feeling me. Isn’t this when most niggas make their move?”
“Lame niggas,” Fly Boogie responded. Despite the fact that her body felt so good against him, he moved as he hit the unlock button on his keys. “Anything you do right now is out of character. This is all about him. I would be playing myself if I jumped on you. I can see the hurt in your eyes Miamor. I’m the last nigga you got to worry about taking advantage. I’ma get my shot at you ma, but this ain’t it.”
Miamor smiled, slightly embarrassed as she walked up to him once more. She kissed his cheek. “This kiss you earned.” She blew out an exasperated breath and shook her head to try and gain some clarity. “I have to go home,” she whispered. “I need to get my son and pack some things. I’m not beat for this Vegas shit. He wanted this life. I’m going back to Miami.”
“Nah ma. I’ll take you home but you pack up his shit. You built all of this out here. We all followed you out here. The Cartel of Miami belonged to Carter, but The Cartel of Las Vegas belongs to you. You got a gang of niggas that’ll ride on your command,” Fly said. He opened the passenger door for Miamor. He had given her something to think about and as she climbed inside the car, plots of revenge flooded her brain. Hurting the one who had hurt her sounded like poetic justice and she knew that the only way to get to Carter would be to take what he treasured most. She was going to hit his pockets, his empire, take his throne . . . she wanted it all . . . not because she needed it, but because he wanted it too much. He wasn’t afraid of her gangster and she didn’t know if she could ever hate him enough to handle him the ‘murder mama’ way. She couldn’t intimidate him with her reputation, but she could handle him like a wife scorned. She would divorce him and take everything, including the Cartel. He wouldn’t be expecting her to play hardball and by the time he realized what was happening, it would already be done. She was going to take him to the cleaners and while she was at it, she would send Yasmine straight to hell.
Chapter 23
“I think I just started another war.”
—Miamor
Three Months Later
“Dig deeper,” Miamor stated coldly as she stood over the two burly men that were unearthing the desert soil. Their shovels clanged loudly against the earth as their grunts filled the air. “It can’t be shallow. We don’t want any mangy coyotes coming along and digging the body up.” Miamor was livid and her heart pumped violently as her emotions went haywire. Her Cavalli sunglasses masked her watery eyes as she thought of the motivation behind her actions. She had murdered many times before. Fuck it. It was nothing for her to go boom on a nigga. She was in the business of extinction, but when business became personal it always played a tug of war with her mental.
Her judgment hadn’t been this clouded since she had lost her sister at the hands of Mecca. She had promised herself that she would never let her emotions get so tangled again, but yet here she was . . . devastated . . . heartbroken . . . confused all over again. She should have been taking her aggression out on the root of the problem. Her man. Carter ‘muthafuckin’ Jones. He was the perpetrator to the crimes that had been committed against her heart. It was he who deserved to be buried in this shallow grave but instead it was his pretty little mistress who was in her crosshairs. M
iamor saw red when the blacked out SUV pulled up a few yards away, because she knew who was hidden inside. They were in the middle of nowhere . . . Thirty miles into the Mojave on uncharted land. It was an unofficial graveyard. Many a mobster had held court in these deserted lands. There was no telling how many bones were buried beneath the hot sands. Miamor was about to host a funeral and the guest of honor was a Persian bitch named Yasmine.
The most dangerous thing in the world was a woman scorned, but a Miamor scorned was deadly. No one had seen the kind of damage that Miamor could do. She hadn’t had to deal with groupies in Miami. Carter had always walked a straight line. Their love story had been so complicated that he hadn’t found the time to entertain anyone but her. Even during her absence from his life he had remained true, but Yasmine . . . Yasmine had distracted him. She had seduced Miamor’s man and there was a price to pay for that. The bitch clearly doesn’t know who she’s fucking with, Miamor thought, her temperature rising as she stalked across the desert. She was heated . . . not from the sun that blazed down on her, but from the hatred that burned in her heart. As an unsuspecting Yasmine climbed from the backseat of the car, Miamor approached.