The Cartel Deluxe Edition

by Ashley

  Mecca was the first to spot Ma’tee, and reacted without thought or hesitation. He cocked the shotgun back and let off a round, just barely missing Ma’tee. Ma’tee returned fire, spraying anything he saw moving as he made his way down the stairs. Zyir also opened fire as he came from the opposite corner of the room. He hit Ma’tee in the arm, sending him flying down the stairs violently. Carter was toward the back of the house, and came running when he heard the gunshots.

  Ma’tee dropped his gun as tumbled down the stairs, leaving a bloody trail behind him. He landed at the bottom of the stairs awkwardly. “Hmm!” he grunted as he tried to sit up and gather his bearings. When he looked up, Mecca was standing over him with a shotgun to his face.

  “Where is Breeze?” Mecca screamed as he dug the barrel into on one of Ma’tee’s eyes. Before Ma’tee could say anything Mecca kicked him forcefully in his temple out of anger. His emotions got the best of him, and he could not contain himself. Ma’tee was the man who had caused his family grief like no other, and his rage emerged like a bolt of lightning, striking hard and swift. “Where is she?” he yelled as he looked at Ma’tee, who seemed to be losing consciousness.

  Ma’tee was dizzy because of the blows Mecca had just given him. He could barely speak. “Breeze!” he whispered as he thought about her hanging in the basement.

  “Fuck that! Breeze!” he yelled as he ran up the stairs, skipping two at a time in a desperate race to find his girl. Carter headed to the back of the gigantic house screaming her name also.

  “Breeze!” Zyir yelled as he invaded every room of the house. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and his instincts told him that something was wrong. If she’s here, why isn’t she answering? He thought. “She’s not up here! I can’t find her!” he screamed as he descended the steps in worry.

  Mecca saw the look in Zyir’s eyes, and knew that something was wrong. “Where is she?” Mecca shouted as he looked down at Ma’tee, gripping him by his dreadlocks.

  “In . . . the . . . basement,” Ma’tee mumbled as blood dripped from his head.

  “She’s in the basement!” Mecca yelled just before he sent a shotgun blast through Ma’tee’s chest, killing him on contact.

  Carter rushed to the front, and Mecca told him that she was in the basement. They all rushed to the back of the house and tried to open the basement door, but it was secured with five dead bolts.

  “Stand back!” Carter said as he pointed his gun at the lock. He let of five rounds, breaking each lock with each bullet he fired.

  * * *

  “I love you, Poppa. I love you, Mama. I love you, Mecca. I love you, Monroe. I love you, Uncle Polo. I love you, Carter,” Breeze whispered, giving each one of her loved ones a personal and final good-bye. She put her hand over her heart and wished that Zyir would’ve come and saved her. She wished that when she called, she could have gotten the chance to let him know exactly where she was, but she didn’t, and now she was about to make her grand exit from her hell on earth. “I love you, Zyir,” she added just before she prepared to take her own life. She heard gunshots coming from upstairs, but she was so focused on what she was about to do that she paid them no mind. Breeze kicked the chair from underneath her and her body immediately dropped and dangled from the pipes. She began to squirm and hold her neck. The kiss of death gripped at her body. The pain was so great that she almost regretted her decision, but she would rather face a few moments of it then a lifetime of grief in the shackles of Ma’tee. The pressure building in her head was so great that she began to see stars. Each second was agonizingly slow as her lungs begged her to inhale. The strength of human will caused her to grab at the belt to avoid the suffocation. Her nails broke from grabbing at the leather, and she kicked wildly as the pulse in her head became audible in her own ears. She could hear her heartbeat fading, and just as she was on the brink of unconsciousness, she heard Zyir calling her name. “Breeze! I’m coming!” Zyir’s voice came from upstairs.

  Zyir! That’s Zyir! she thought as she continued to struggle for air. She heard someone trying to get to the basement, but the locks were stopping them.

  “Breeze!” Zyir yelled again as he tried to kick the door down. She jerked and contorted her body, trying to release herself, but it didn’t work. Frantic and out of air, she grabbed at the belt around her neck, scratching her skin as she attempted to create some slack in the belt. Her world became gray, and her eyes felt like they would pop out of her skull as she put the last bit of strength she had into freeing herself. Her efforts were in vain. It was too late. She was already in the Grim Reaper’s hands, and there was nothing she could do. She tried to yell for Zyir, but her airway was cut off. She only could let out small grunts. Her grunts were too low for anyone to hear, and she felt herself slipping away. She couldn’t take it anymore, and she finally stopped struggling as life left her body.

  Zyir pushed the door open and was the first to head down the stairs. He held his gun in front of him as he crept down the stairs, not knowing who was down there. Carter and Mecca followed closely behind him. Zyir got to the bottom step and his heart broke in two at the sight before him. Breeze was swinging from a ceiling pipe, swinging slowly from left to right. He quickly dropped his gun and ran over to her lifeless body.

  “Breeze! Nooo!” he yelled as he held her up by her legs trying to stop her from choking, but it was far too late; she was already gone.

  Carter saw Zyir holding Breeze and quickly ran over and picked up the chair so he could stand on it and untie her. His hands shook as he looked at Breeze’s limp body.

  Mecca was still by the stairs, frozen in heartache. He dropped to his knees and silently cried as he watched his sister’s body drop into Zyir’s arms. Zyir had never mourned anything or anyone in his life, but as he sat with Breeze in his arms, he rubbed her face as tears flowed down his cheeks. He kissed the top of her head over and over again as he rocked her back and forth while whispering her name again and again. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like this!” he whispered into her ear. “Not like this!” he repeated as he wept over her. He looked down at the only girl who had ever stolen his heart and regretted the day he had ever met her. He had never felt a pain so great before she had entered his life. “I’m so sorry, Breeze. This is all my fault,” he whispered as he closed his eyes tightly and tried to get the image of her suicide out of his brain.

  “Zy,” Carter began. He inched closer to Zyir. “Let her go, fam. This ain’t on you. Just hand her to me,” Carter instructed, seeing that his protégé’s grief was as great as his own.

  “Don’t take her from me, man, not yet. Just don’t touch her!” Zyir spoke in a low tone. “She needed me. She was hopeless and she killed herself because I wasn’t there.” Zyir sat with Breeze for an hour before Carter could convince him that it was time for them to depart. Zyir even tried to give Breeze CPR. They all knew that it was useless, but Zyir wouldn’t stop until he tried everything to bring her back. She held the key to his heart, and now that she was gone, it would be locked forever. The beautiful Breeze Diamond was dead.

  Chapter Ten

  The Cartel

  All with tears in their eyes, Mecca, Carter and Zyir walked down the dirt path that led to their awaiting helicopter. They had just climbed down the mountain, none of them saying anything to each other on their way down. Breeze’s limp, lifeless body was in Zyir’s arms as he carried her with strength, determined to hold her upright and comfortable, even though it was in vain.

  The town’s patrons followed as they saw Zyir carrying the dead body. It looked as if a parade was going on, with Carter, Zyir, and Mecca leading the pack.

  Mecca held his gun out in the open as he walked in broad daylight, with onlookers looking at them in disbelief. With tears flowing, he promised himself that anyone he saw that resembled a Haitian would die in honor of his hatred for Ma’tee. Mecca was at a point where he didn’t give a fuck about human life anymore. He was already ruthless, but he had crossed the line, graduating to psycho
tic. He just wanted somebody to pay for all the grief that Ma’tee and his Haitian mob had caused his family. It seemed as if every Haitian resembled Ma’tee, and Mecca wanted vengeance.

  He saw a spectator with a head full of dreads on the side of the road, along with the crowd. Mecca was going all out in tribute to Breeze.

  He glanced at her body, and the sight of the red belt marks around her neck made him sick to his stomach. That sight was the most hurtful thing he had ever seen. He knew that Breeze loved herself too much to kill herself. For her to commit suicide, life had to be unbearable. This thought infuriated Mecca and pushed him to his boiling point. He looked back at the dread head and let him have it. Mecca pointed and fired, catching him in the chest. Although the man had no association with Ma’tee and posed no harm, Mecca didn’t care. He was borderline insane at that point. As the thunderous sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, people began to scream in horror and run for cover as Mecca looked for any other Haitian that even resembled Ma’tee.

  The gunshots didn’t bother Carter or Zyir. Usually they would try to tame Mecca, but this time they let his rage flow uninhibited. Neither of them even flinched as Mecca let off round after round, while never stopping his slow pace as they walked. They knew that Mecca was creating therapy for himself in some sort of sick way. Who were they to tell him how to grieve? They were both heartbroken, and the only thing on their minds was getting Breeze back to the States for a proper burial.

  Zyir cried silently and kissed Breeze on the forehead while she was in his arms. “I love you,” he repeatedly whispered to her as he continued down the trail.

  Mecca continued to shoot calmly, with no expression on his face. People were yelling in terror and scattered like roaches as Mecca continued his therapy session.

  They reached the helicopter, and the driver was waiting, just as Carter had told him to.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Carter whispered to himself, referring to burying loved ones. It was as if a healed wound was reopened when they saw Breeze’s body hanging from that belt. They had to suffer her death twice, and it was taking a toll on what was left of The Cartel.

  They entered the helicopter and the pilot carried them back to the States. The chopper ride remained silent and painful, as tears fell down all of their cheeks.

  * * *

  Carter, Mecca and Zyir stood over the hole in the graveyard. Two of the graveyard’s workers began to dump dirt on the cherry oak casket that contained Breeze’s body. Breeze’s headstone was next to the rest of the Diamond family. Mecca looked at all the tombstones, and noticed that he was the last one left alive with the Diamond bloodline, besides Carter. Zyir stared, as the dirt getting dumped on top of the casket and the flowers that he laid on top of it, slowly disappeared with each scoop. Nothing was said. Each of them were entertaining their own thoughts and grieving within themselves. They all had stonecold stares with heavy hearts. They were all cried out, and at that moment, they knew that The Cartel was over. All of the heartache and anguish wasn’t worth it. “I’m done,” Mecca said as he stared at the hole in the ground. “Me too . . . me too,” Carter whispered as he threw his arm around his brother. “This game is so cold. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We supposed to pop champagne and live the life; but not this. The game has no loyalty,” Zyir added as he fought back a single tear for Breeze. Carter began to think about Miamor, and how he had left her there alone for the past couple of days when they had gone to Haiti, and then took care of Breeze’s burial. He was fed up and ready to move on and start a life with Miamor.

  He looked over at Zyir, the only real nigga he had besides Mecca. He didn’t want Zyir to fall victim to the game, and promised himself at that moment that he would not let Zyir fall into the pitfalls of this game.

  They stayed there for hours and mourned her death before they headed back to the Diamond residence. Carter knew he would have to start making plans for his exit out of the drug game.

  * * *

  Carter pulled into the Diamond Estate, and the gates were opened by one of his many henchmen that he had guarding the house. Carter gave him a nod and pulled up the long, curvy driveway. He had just dropped Zyir off at his condo, and Mecca decided to stay over at Zyir’s. Mecca was acting strange in Carter’s eyes. Carter chalked Mecca’s awkwardness up to him mourning his sister’s suicide. But little did Carter know, Mecca wanted to stay away from Miamor, because he knew that he would eventually kill her if he stayed under the same roof as her. Mecca wanted to wait until she woke from her coma before he killed her. He wanted Miamor to see his eyes as he sent her to her Maker. He was determined to finish the job Fabian had failed to do. Carter got out of his car and entered the house. When he walked in, his henchmen were all on the couch, playing a video game. They were so busy ranting and raving that they didn’t notice him come in. “What the fuck is going on here?” he asked loudly, startling all five of the henchmen. They quickly jumped up, sensing the hostility in Carter’s voice. “We were just—” the henchmen said, just before Carter threw up his hand, dismissing whatever he had to say. He began to walk over to the crowd of men with both hands behind his back. His body gestures didn’t display anger, but the veins that were forming in his neck and forehead was a sure giveaway. “Who is watching Miamor?” he asked calmly, as he looked each one of them in their face.

  “Carter, it wasn’t—” one of the men said, trying to explain why they were on the east wing, and no one was guarding the front door or Miamor’s room as Carter had ordered.

  Carter grabbed the man and pulled out his own gun, putting it in the man’s mouth. “Open up, nigga!” Carter yelled as he harshly rubbed the barrel of the gun on the man’s lips.

  The man opened his mouth and put both of his hands up, not believing what was happening. The other henchmen just looked on in fear. They had never seen Carter lose his composure whatsoever, so to see him so irate was terrifying.

  “I pay you niggas good to watch and protect my fortress, and look what you do. You niggas don’t know how to make money. The only thing you have to do is stay on your post. I don’t pay you niggas to stand around and play games. What the fuck? Anybody could have come in here and hurt my lady!” Carter yelled as he thought about how he could’ve crept past them without anyone knowing. “Who was supposed to be at the door?” he asked as he continued to grip the man by his collar. He glanced around looking for an answer, but no one said anything. “Who!” he asked again as he dug the gun deeper in the man’s mouth.

  The man he was holding raised his hand, unable to talk because the gun was in his mouth. Carter had found out all that he needed. He pulled the trigger, rocking him to sleep. Blood and noodles shot out the back of the man’s head, and Carter released his grip, letting his body fall to the floor. He didn’t even look at him fall. He just turned around and headed to check on Miamor. “Clean that shit up!” he yelled as he put his smoking gun on his hip. He had to send a message that he wasn’t playing, and that’s exactly what he did. Maybe if so much wasn’t going on, he would not have gone that far. He wasn’t the one for making regrets, so he whispered, “Don’t fucking play with me!” to himself, as he climbed the stairs to get to Miamor.

  When Carter walked in the room, he saw the nurse that he had hired sitting next to Miamor, half-asleep. She was an older black woman who seemed to be in her early fifties. He had hired her from a health care service just before he went to Haiti. Carter walked over to the nurse and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Hello, Mrs. Smith. You can leave now,” he said as he greeted her with a smile and pulled out a wad of cash.

  She smiled back and got up to retrieve her things.

  Carter looked at Miamor, who was still in a comatose state. She never looked more beautiful in Carter’s eyes. He bent over and kissed her on the head. “Hey, baby,” he said as he smiled.

  The nurse headed out of the door, and Carter remembered what he had just done downstairs, so he told her to exit out of the west wing’s door. He didn’t want h
er to see the gory scene that was downstairs by the main door.

  She nodded her head in agreement, and exited the room, leaving him alone in the room with Miamor.

  Carter sat at the edge of the bed and placed his hand on top of Miamor’s. He would give anything for her to just open her eyes. He would pay for her to tell him that she loved him. He still didn’t know who could do such a heinous act to such a beautiful girl. But when he found out who had done it, he would make them pay.

  Never in his wildest dreams could he have guessed that her injuries were at the hands of his own flesh and blood, Mecca.

  Carter was exhausted, and he was ready to go to sleep. He pulled up a chair so that he could fall asleep right next to Miamor, hoping that she would awaken. He grabbed a small blanket from the foot of the bed and positioned himself comfortably. He prepared to call it a night and closed his eyes. So much had been going on over the past week, and it had him drained. He said a quick prayer for his sister, Breeze, and whispered, “I love you.”

  Out of nowhere, Miamor, with a cracked and low voice, whispered, “I love you too,” as she opened her eyes and let out a small grunt.

  Carter quickly jumped up and looked into her eyes. He smiled. It felt so good to see her eyes after so long. “Oh my God, baby! You’re up! I’m here. I got you,” he said as he bent down and kissed her repeatedly on the forehead.

  Miamor was so weak that she could barely keep her eyes open. They were so heavy that it felt like someone was pulling her eyelids down. She tried to move, but her body wasn’t responding. It took all of her energy to whisper those three little words, “I love you,” but those words were music to Carter’s ears. He was so grateful, so happy.

  “I thought I lost you, Miamor. I would have waited forever for you to wake up,” Carter said as he felt his hands shaking. His nerves were getting the best of him because he was overwhelmed with joy. His queen was back.