The Cartel Deluxe Edition

by Ashley

  The feeling of Mecca’s lips on the nape of her neck caused her love box to throb in anticipation. It had been so long since she had been pleased. She wanted to slow things down, but the spot between her thighs had a different agenda. She gasped as Mecca’s hands caressed her thighs, moving higher and higher until his fingers found her clit.

  Without speaking, he moved with expertise as he spread her legs and removed his manhood. She felt the girth of him as he rubbed his thick head against her voluptuous behind. She dripped in anticipation. Nothing had ever felt so forbidden, yet she still craved it. She wanted him to put his thing down. The bedroom was the one place where his aggression never scared her.

  Bending her over the thirty-five-story balcony, he parted her glistening southern lips and entered her from behind.

  “You want me to stop?” he asked as he paused inside of her. He wanted her to be completely comfortable with what was about to go down.

  “No,” she replied. “Psst,” she sighed as she felt every inch of him dig into her from behind.

  Mecca’s hand gripped the sides of her ass. Her wetness was like heaven to him. Her juicy peach fit snugly around his shaft as her muscles pulled him tighter and deeper with every stroke.

  “Oooh, Mecca,” she moaned as she bucked back on his dick, loving the mixture of pain and pleasure that he was giving her. Her head spun from orgasmic intoxication as she took in the scenery below. She could feel herself being sucked back into Mecca’s world, but at that exact moment, she did not care.

  If this is what it feels like, I wanna be here forever, she thought as her eyes closed in pleasure.

  The morning air caused her nipples to harden as Mecca turned her around. She mounted him as he held her up with one hand and palmed her perky breasts with the other, all the while their tongues intertwined. It had been so long since a man had been inside of her. Estes had expressed his interest, but she could never bring herself to sleep with him, and now all of the sexual tension that she had built up was about to come down.

  “I’m cumming,” she whispered feverishly. “Ooh, Mecca, right there.”

  Mecca increased his pace as the tip of his dick swelled, and a tingle ran down his spine. “Me too, Lee. Shit, ma.”

  Mecca cried out in pleasure as he shot his load into her, but he did not stop pleasing her until she creamed all over him.

  Exhausted, she fell into his chest. Her labored breathing filled the air. She didn’t know what her next move would be, and she hid her face to avoid reality.

  “Lee,” he said as he lifted her chin. “I want you to leave him.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted honestly. “I owe him so much. He has been nothing but generous and kind to me.”

  “Are you happy?” he asked.

  “Will I be happy with you?” she countered with raised eyebrows. She wanted him to reassure her, to convince her that she would be, but it was something that Mecca could not guarantee.

  He lowered his gaze.

  “Exactly. I didn’t think so,” she said sadly as she walked back into his penthouse.

  Mecca listened as the shower ran in his master bathroom, and he sat down on his bed with his face in his hands. He was trying. He was doing all that he could to redeem himself, but he wasn’t completely sure that he could purge himself of all the evil that lived inside of him. He wanted Leena. She held the key to his future, but he did not want to hurt her again.

  As she emerged from his bathroom fully dressed, he knew that she was ready to walk out of his life.

  She’s better off with Estes, he thought as she headed directly to the door. The selfishness in him caused him to stop her.

  “Leena . . .”

  She paused mid-step and turned to him, revealing a tear-streaked face.

  “Leave him. Come away with me,” he said.

  “My son,” she protested.

  “He has my blood in his veins, Leena. Let me raise him. I’ll take care of you,” he replied.

  Leena wanted to say no because she knew that it was the right answer, but her heart would not listen to reason. She ran toward Mecca and kissed him passionately.

  “Okay . . . okay, Mecca. Just let me do this on my own terms. I’ll leave him, I swear.”

  “Leena, I’m leaving with or without you, but you would make my life so much better if you come,” he admitted.

  “Just tell me when and where to be. I’ll be there. I’ll leave with you,” she said as she walked out the door.

  Mecca watched her leave, but he was confident that she would soon be back. The game was getting old for him, and at that moment, all he wanted was to leave his old life behind so that he could start anew with Leena. She was slowly becoming his only priority—and even Estes could not keep him away from her.

  * * *

  Emilio Estes sat behind the dark tint of the Lincoln truck and held his great grandson in his arms as he watched Leena leave Mecca’s building. Disappointment filled him as he kissed Monroe Jr.’s chubby cheeks. “I can’t let your mother make this mistake,” Estes said, more to himself than to the baby in his arms. “I told him to stay away.”

  He shook his head in disgust as he thought of how he would have to press the button on Mecca. He was a liability. As long as he was around, Leena would be drawn to him, and Estes was not giving her up, especially to his crooked grandson. Mecca was a ticking time bomb, and before he could explode again, Estes would kill him. This time, there would be no mercy. Mecca had to go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I stay strapped.”

  —Murder

  Murder had been patiently waiting to see Mecca again. Murder had staked out Monroe’s grave all Sunday morning, hoping to see Mecca there again, just as he had done one week before.

  This nigga is bound to show up here sometime, he thought as he sat back. He thought about what the Murder Mamas had said about him taking a different approach in killing the remaining leaders of The Cartel. He knew that to do it, he would have to get in close with them so he could kill Zyir, Mecca, and Carter with ease. He didn’t have the luxury of just killing one of them and being satisfied. In Miamor’s honor, all of them had to go.

  He looked across the cemetery and saw a tinted truck and knew that Robyn and Aries were waiting inside, strapped. He had a plan, and if everything went as expected, he would be in a better position by the end of the day.

  Just as expected, Mecca’s car rolled up slowly and parked. Mecca stepped out of the car, scanned the area, and checked his surroundings. Once he felt comfortable, he closed the door and headed toward Monroe’s grave.

  Murder hopped out of his car also and tried to look as casual as he could as he headed to the grave. Murder patted his hip to make sure his .40 caliber pistol was in place.

  Mecca was on the path to the tombstone and didn’t notice Murder walking a couple of feet behind him. Murder looked across the site and nodded, knowing the girls were watching closely and waiting for his signal to go through with the plan and get it popping.

  On cue, tires began to screech and the sounds of gunfire erupted. The Murder Mamas had on ski masks, and Robyn had an assault rifle. She was hanging out of the window. Aries drove by while shooting her own handgun out of the window.

  Murder quickly dove on Mecca, knocking him out of the way as he was taken by total surprise. Murder began to fire back, but he aimed high purposely, so he wouldn’t hit Robyn and Aries.

  The whole scenario was planned to a tee. It was done and over within fifteen seconds, but those fifteen seconds were instrumental in Murder’s plans.

  Mecca was taken off guard, and he had left his guns in the car, not thinking anything would pop off at a cemetery. He breathed hard as he saw Murder send bullets at the tinted car that was speeding out of the cemetery. Murder ran after the car, firing bullet after bullet until his clip was empty, showing Mecca that he wasn’t scared.

  “You good?” Murder asked as he looked back at Mecca, who was still on the ground.

  �
�Yeah, I’m good,” Mecca said as his heart beat rapidly. “Damn!” Mecca yelled as he thought about how his life had almost ended. “You saved my ass,” Mecca added.

  “Don’t trip. I saw that shit coming from a mile away. I’m just glad that I had my strap on me. You must have an enemy somewhere, huh?” Murder said as he extended his hand to help Mecca up.

  “Yeah, something like that. Thanks, fam,” Mecca said as he stood up and dusted off his pants.

  “Don’t mention it,” Murder said as he walked toward the tombstone as if the conversation was over.

  “Yo, hold up,” Mecca said as he followed Murder. “That was some real shit. What, you a cop or something?” Mecca asked, wondering why he would just be carrying a gun on him.

  “Hell nah. I hate cops,” Murder answered as he put his gun inside his holster. “I stay strapped, that’s all.”

  “Yo, I’m Mecca,” Mecca said as he extended his hand for a shake.

  “I’m Leon, but my people call me Murder.”

  “Okay, Murder. Nice to meet you. Let me bless you for doing what you did.” Mecca said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack full of money.

  “Nah, I’m good. You keep that. I just acted on impulse. It was nothing,” Murder said.

  “Well, at least let me buy you a drink,” Mecca asked with a small smirk. He liked Murder’s style and quick thinking. He knew that he could always use a live nigga around him. Murder impressed him just that quick.

  “No doubt,” Murder responded, accepting the invitation. Mecca had just fallen right into Murder’s trap, and although Murder had a stone cold expression on his face, on the inside he was smiling, because he knew that the countdown to the end of The Cartel had just begun.

  * * *

  “And that’s how I ended up in Miami,” Murder said, just finishing a made-up story to Mecca. He told Mecca that he came from Atlanta searching for a coke connect, and had only been in town for a couple of months. Murder also told him that his father moved to Florida and had recently passed, which was something Mecca could relate to. Needless to say, they hit it off quickly.

  Murder took a shot of Patrón and slammed the glass on the table. Mecca signaled the waiter to bring them another shot as they sat in the rear of a low-key bar that Mecca frequented. Murder’s trigger finger was itching, and he wanted so badly to pull of his .40 and blow Mecca’s head clean off, but he knew that he couldn’t show his card this early in the game. Murder’s hand began to sweat and he gritted his teeth, all while keeping on a smile in front of his enemy.

  How can I be having a drink with the coward that killed my baby? Miamor was my mu’fuckin’ heart. I should blow his head off right now, Murder thought as he casually slipped his hand down to his waist where his gun rested, locked and loaded. He quickly snapped back and thought about the bigger picture, and that was taking them all out.

  “You say you looking for a coke connect, right?” Mecca said as he leaned in closer to Murder so that no one could overhear him.

  “Yeah, that shit in Atlanta is so stepped on, and when we do get a good batch in, they taxing up the ass,” Murder said.

  “How about . . .” Mecca started, but stopped when the waitress came and set the two shots of Patrón on the table. He continued when she left. “How about I show you how to make some real money?” Mecca said as he leaned back and took the shot with no chaser.

  “How can I do that?” Murder asked as he sat back looking very interested, knowing that Mecca was playing into his little trap.

  “I saw the way you reacted out there today. I need a nigga like that on my team. You feel me?”

  “I’m listening,” Murder stated.

  “I want you to be my enforcer, my bodyguard for a couple of months. I will also plug you in on some bricks when you go back to Atlanta. Unstepped on, raw,” Mecca offered.

  “Word?” Murder asked as he took his shot and looked Mecca in the eyes.

  “Word!” Mecca said as he extended his hand, waiting for Murder to seal the deal.

  Murder shook Mecca’s hand, and thoughts of Miamor’s horrific murder scene popped in his head. Murder’s trigger finger began to itch again, and he gritted his teeth, feeling disgusted that he was shaking his own enemy’s hand. Nevertheless, Murder stayed calm and didn’t show his cards so soon. He knew that in due time, he would get his revenge in a major way.

  * * *

  Murder left that meeting feeling like in some way he had betrayed Miamor; however, he knew that to take down The Cartel correctly, he would have to play a role. Murder had just ordered the Murder Mamas to head back to L.A., and even though they were against leaving him there alone, Murder insisted. Murder had taught Miamor everything she knew about her profession, and off the strength of that, Robyn and Aries listened to him.

  At that moment, Murder was on his way to meet Mecca at a warehouse, and the Murder Mamas were in the air headed home. On that day, Murder was supposed to meet Zyir and Carter for the first time. Murder questioned his willpower. He was not sure that he would be able to handle seeing Carter without reaching for his gun and going all out. Only time would tell.

  Murder took a deep breath and whispered, “I love you, Miamor,” as if she were in the car with him. Deep in his heart, he was confident that she could hear him.

  As Murder pulled into the warehouse where Mecca had directed him to meet them, he took a deep breath to prepare himself. It was an old steel factory on the outskirts of Miami. The Diamond family owned the property, so it looked as if it was a shut down establishment, but it was where the bricks were stored and shipments were dropped off.

  Murder stepped out of the car, and moments later, a Lamborghini pulled up behind him, shining its lights on him. Murder blocked his eyes and tried to see who the driver was. It wasn’t until Mecca killed the lights and the butterfly-style door arose that Murder saw who it was.

  “What’s up, fam?” Mecca asked as he approached Murder.

  Murder instinctively clenched his jaws as his hatred for Mecca surfaced once again. Murder caught himself and calmed down before Mecca got close enough to read the expression on his face. Niggas like Mecca could sense larceny, so Murder had to be sure to keep his temper in check at all times.

  “What’s good?” Murder said between clenched teeth. He shook Mecca’s hand and put on a fake smile just before Mecca led him into the warehouse.

  Carter and Zyir were already there, counting money and loading duffel bags with the bricks so that they could be distributed to their blocks. They had been there for over an hour and had parked in the back out of sight.

  As Murder walked in, he had to stop his mouth from hitting the floor. He had never seen so many kilos of cocaine in his life. It was then that he knew that The Cartel was much more than street legend. They were the real deal.

  Having Carter, Zyir, and Mecca in one place at the same time, he thought about taking them out right there. But he quickly changed his tune when he saw the arsenal of automatic weapons sitting on the table near the money.

  “What took you so long?”Carter asked as he thumbed through the hundred dollar bills without looking up.

  Zyir frowned when he saw the man following Mecca. “Fuck is this new nigga?” Zyir asked, not one to hold his tongue.

  “I had to make a stop, but check it. This is my man I was telling you about. This nigga is on some Jet Li type shit with the pistols. He’s nice,” Mecca bragged.

  “Word?” Carter said as he stood from the table to shake Murder’s hand. Mecca had told Carter and Zyir about Murder, and they needed an enforcer, so they had wanted to meet him. But when Carter shook Murder’s hand, he felt that something was off. Call it a hustler’s intuition; the handshake wasn’t right, the eye contact was too stiff, and Murder’s body language didn’t match his facial expression.

  “Murder, this is Carter. Carter, Murder,” Mecca said, introducing the two men that both loved Miamor to the bone.

  “What’s up?” Carter said.

  “’Sup f
amily?” Murder returned.

  “And this is Zyir. He handles everything on the street level,” Mecca said. Zyir was so busy counting the money that he didn’t even properly greet Murder. Zyir just glanced at him briefly and nodded his head.

  Carter didn’t say anything then, but he made a mental note to tell Mecca to ditch the new nigga. He didn’t get a good vibe from him, and rightfully so, because Murder wanted all of them dead.

  “Yo, let’s wrap this up. I got to make a move,” Carter said, trying to cut the night short. He didn’t feel comfortable around Murder and wanted him gone.

  Zyir picked up on Carter’s vibe and agreed. Mecca was slipping, and Carter was going to tell him about himself later.

  * * *

  The next day, Mecca had a talk with Carter, and he instantly cut off Murder. They also shut down that location as a drop-off and pick-up spot. Carter didn’t know if Murder was a fed or an enemy, but he knew one thing: he could never be a part of The Cartel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “The Cartel runs this city, not y’all. You work for us!”

  —Zyir

  Breeze paced the spacious room back and forth, trying not to think about the subject that overwhelmed her thoughts. She was battling her conscience, and also the pain that was in the pit of her stomach. Heroin was calling for her, and she was on the brink of answering.

  No, Breeze, you can’t. I can fight this shit, she thought as she clutched her stomach and fell to her knees in pain. The pain that shot through her stomach was almost unbearable as she collapsed to all fours and began to cry.

  Breeze couldn’t understand what was going on with her body. She had never had an itch so bad, and whether she knew it or not, she was going through withdrawal. She was so used to getting dope shot into her veins on a daily basis that the first time her body went without it, it became excruciating. She kept thinking about what her father would say if he saw her in the state that she was in at that moment.