by Ashley
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 back 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 9 mm 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.
* * *
Mecca sent Carter to voice mail as he pushed his Lamborghini through the streets. His foot was like lead on the gas pedal. There was only one thing on his mind . . . murder. He called Fabian repeatedly, but never got an answer.
Bitch-ass nigga couldn’t handle one fucking job. Kill the bitch! That’s all I asked him to do, he thought.
His luxury whip left rubber on the ground beneath him as he made his way to his destination. He pulled up to an apartment community and slammed his car door furiously as he made his way inside. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, he stormed up the stairway all the way to the seventh floor. He found apartment 7B.
Knock! Knock!
Fabian opened the door, keeping the security chain in place, but when he saw Mecca’s face, he tried to close it quickly.
Mecca pushed his way into the apartment, causing the door to hit Fabian in the face.
“Oww, shit!” Fabian grimaced as he held his nose and backed up into the apartment. M-M-M-Mecca! What’s good, homeboy? Fuck is all this for?” Fabian stuttered nervously while blood leaked from his busted nose.
Mecca didn’t say a word. He removed his .38 and then began to screw the silencer on as his eyes burned a hole through Fabian, daring him to move.
“Mecca, man! Please, man!” Fabian begged.
Mecca aimed his pistol at Fabian’s head and fired two shots. The only sound that could be heard was Fabian’s body hitting the floor, and just as quickly as Mecca had come, he left. He had no regrets and no remorse. All he wanted was revenge. He knew that talking to Carter was useless. Miamor had him blinded. Carter had placed Miamor on a pedestal so high that he refused to see the truth, but Mecca was determined to get to her. As soon as the nigga turns his back, I’ma murder his bitch.
* * *
Dr. Nataya Azor walked into her practice and sighed. She knew that today would be a long and dreadful day. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, thinking about the young girl she had treated the day before. She knew for a fact that Ma’tee was not the girl’s father, but she wanted to stay out of it. She wanted no part of whatever was going on. To get into the business of a man as ruthless as Ma’tee could put her in a bad position. She could easily come up missing if she chose to intervene. She tried her best to ignore the situation, but then she thought of her own beautiful children. If they were in trouble, I would not want another mother to turn a blind eye to dem, she thought with indecision. Dr. Azor had gotten the message that Breeze had written her, but fear had stopped her from making the call on the girl’s behalf. She had tried to put the note in the back of her mind and remain professional, but all night she tossed and turned, thinking of the look of terror she had witnessed in Breeze’s eyes. She looked at the clock. She still had an hour before her office opened. She put her things down and walked over to the file cabinet where she kept her patients’ files. She flipped through them until she retrieved what she was looking for. “Breeze Diamond,” she whispered aloud. Her mind told her to put the file away and go about her day, but the motherly instinct in her forced her to find Breeze’s note. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone, but quickly changed her mind and slammed it back down. Her foot tapped nervously against the floor as she contemplated on what to do. She read the note again: Please help me! Call this number. 1- 810-625-1816. Tell him I am alive. I’m trapped somewhere in the mountains. Please!
“One phone call will not hurt,” she said. She picked up the phone and slowly dialed the number, silently hoping that no one would answer.
“Hello?”
“Please listen carefully. A girl by the name of Breeze was treated in me doctor’s office yesterday. She asked me to call this number. She’s in danger. She’s is in Haiti. Ma’tee has her trapped in de mountains,” Dr. Azor said.
* * *
“Who is this?” Zyir shouted as he sat straight up in his bed, but all he got in response was a dial tone. He immediately threw on some jeans and his kicks and grabbed his keys. Haiti! he thought in despair. What the fuck? Ma’tee? Zyir knew that if what the caller said was true, then Breeze was in much more danger than anyone could have ever imagined, and he had to get to her . . . before it was too late.
Chapter Eight
The Cartel
Breeze began to feel better, and Ma’tee had allowed her to roam free in the secluded basement without being bound to the bed. It had been a week since she was at the hospital, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Zyir’s voice. She knew that she had blown the only chance that she had to be saved. She paced the room back and forth as she tried to think of a way out of the clutches of Ma’tee, but she was beginning to realize that she would never escape. He was in complete control, and had become obsessed with her. She broke down into tears as she began to accept her reality. “I would rather die!” she whispered as she felt like giving up on life. She was a Diamond, and she took pride in that name. She would rather die on her feet rather than live on her knees. She, at that moment, gave up on life.
The sound of the door unlocking startled her, and she stared at the steps until she saw the feet of Ma’tee emerging. He walked down, smiling as if he was a husband coming home to his wife.
“I hate you!” Breeze whispered as she backed into a corner, watching him walking toward her. She saw the look in his eyes, and already knew what his intentions were. He came down there for sex. “No, Ma’tee! Don’t do this!” she begged as she held her hands out in front of her.
“Relax, beautiful gal,” Ma’tee said as he licked his lips and thought about how good it felt to be inside of Breeze’s tight wound. He had broken her virginity months ago, but every time seemed like the first time to him.
Breeze learned that fighting back only made it worse for her, so she reluctantly got up and walked toward the bed. Ma’tee followed closely behind her and began to rub her behind. He relieved her of her gown and looked at her naked, slender body as she lay on the bed. Tears were running down her face, but he paid them no mind as he prepared to have his way with her. He dropped his pants and began to degrade her.
Ma’tee went down on her and performed oral sex on her as she laid there not responding to him at all. Her legs shook, not in pleasure but in fear as he ate her out sloppily. Tears ran down her face as she had no choice but to submit to Ma’tee.
* * *
Zyir’s heart raced as he waited patiently for Mecca to return. He had been blowing his phone up, trying to let him know that Breeze was alive and somewhere in Haiti. Zyir looked at Carter, who was coming down the stairs while talking on a cell phone. Carter was scheduling a helicopter to drop them off in Haiti. Zyir had never come clean about everything that happened on the night that Breeze was kidnapped. Carter and Mecca knew that he was the last one with Breeze that night, but what Zyir didn’t tell them was that he was in the process of taking Breeze’s virginity. Their sexual act had caused his distraction, and his sloppiness had led to her being taken. How would he take it? Zyir asked himself as he buried his face in his hands. He quickly shook
off the feeling of overwhelming guilt and focused on the positive; Breeze was alive.
“Did you get in touch with Mecca?” Carter asked as he flipped down his phone and grabbed a phone book.
“I can’t reach him. I’ve been trying to call him all morning, but he’s not answering the phone,” Zyir said as he stood up and began to pace the floor. He picked up the phone and tried to reach Mecca once again, but he just got the voice mail like before. “Damn! We are just going to have to go without him,” Zyir said as he pulled his gun out, ready to kill whatever and whoever to get Breeze back.
Carter ran his finger down the phonebook’s page, searching for a home health aide. He didn’t want to leave Miamor there alone without help. He wanted her to see a friendly face if she awoke from her coma, rather than one of his goons that he had guarding her room.
He glanced over at Zyir, who was pacing the floor, looking nervous and anxious. Carter stopped what he was doing and walked over to him. He put his hand on Zyir’s shoulder and stopped him in his tracks. “You got to calm down. I want you to relax and take a step back. We don’t know what we are about to walk into when we get to Haiti, so we have to be ready for whatever. But we will most definitely be at a disadvantage if you’re all riled up. Fall back, fam,” Carter said as he watched Zyir letting his emotions get the best of him. “You really cared for her, huh?” Carter asked as he looked at Zyir and saw the flame in his eyes.