by Ashley
An hour later, a cab pulled outside of the brick house that sat on a small hill. Murder tipped the cabbie and watched as he left. Murder then looked at the house and took a deep breath. Murder began to second-guess his plan, and wondered if he was walking into a setup. He pulled out his guns and approached the house, going all out.
He approached the front door and turned the doorknob. It was unlocked, so he pushed the door open. He carefully stepped through the door with his gun drawn. The familiar smell of a rotting body overwhelmed him as he winced in displeasure. The horrendous stench was overbearing, and he instantly pulled his shirt over his nose.
Murder’s heart began to thump as he got deeper into the empty house. The smell got heavier and heavier as he approached the door that led to the basement. He quickly snatched open the basement door and pointed his gun through the opening. The rotting smell had been magnified by ten when he opened the door. He held his breath as he began to walk down the stairs, preparing himself for what he was to find.
“Miamor, please don’t let this be you,” he whispered as his eyes got teary.
When Murder reached the bottom step, it felt as his heart had dropped into the pit of his stomach. He saw a decomposing corpse sprawled on the floor, hog-tied. He looked at the arm and noticed there was no hand attached to it. It was then that he knew that it was really Miamor. He instantly dropped to his knees and turned his head away, not wanting to see Miamor that way. Although he had known that finding her alive was unlikely, seeing her tortured and dismembered in the tomblike basement ripped his insides to pieces. The confirmation of her death was the only pain he had ever felt in his entire life. Murder was a cold soul, and before meeting Miamor, he didn’t even think he was capable of love. But she had always been his weakness. She was the woman who could penetrate him, and now she was gone.
“No, ma… no,” he whispered as he put his hand to his ears to drown out the sound of his own internal misery.
Murder’s heart had just been broken in two. He had just verified that the world lost one of the realest bitches who ever walked it. The ultimate sin had been committed against her. It was about to be murder season in Miami. He didn’t care if he had to make the entire city bleed. Somebody had to pay, and he was determined to get vengeance.
Murder, Aries, and Robyn sat on the fifty-foot yacht as they stared out at the Atlantic Ocean, all of them with pain in their hearts and revenge on their minds. Murder had sent for Robyn and Aries right after he found Miamor’s body. They all knew that she was dead before Murder came to Miami, but they had to make sure. The vase full of ashes in their hands confirmed it: they had lost. They both had looked to Miamor as their leader. Her confidence made them confident, and now that she had been touched, they felt extremely vulnerable. Even though the sun was shining, it was a very cold day for Murder and the Murder Mamas.
“I’ma make sure all them niggas pay for what they did to Miamor,” Murder mumbled as he shook his head from side to side and kept visualizing Miamor’s beautiful smile.
“I know Mecca did this. He is sick in the head, and the only person twisted enough to do something like this. That crazy mu’fucka is the only one who would go to this extreme to do this to her,” Robyn said as she held her lips tight.
“Yeah, Mecca did this to she,” Aries whispered in her heavy accent as she shook her head in sadness.
“I’ma avenge Miamor’s death for sure. These south niggas don’t know how I get down. They ain’t seen a nigga like me before,” Murder said through his clenched teeth.
Robyn shook her head in disagreement. “It’s not that simple, Murder. This shit is real. We’ve been hitting niggas for years, and we have never encountered any organization like theirs. They killed Anisa and Miamor. That shit don’t happen to us. We were untouchable until we faced them. They are not like regular niggas. We are fucking with The Cartel, and they’re not like these ol’ corny clique-naming-ass niggas. Their shit is legit. I’m talking the best security, crazy gun power, and not to mention the entire fucking city rocks with them.
“If they move like they used to, it’s hard to catch them together all at once. We tried to kill them one at a time, and that plan only backfired on us. I know how you get down, but you’re only one man. You’ll be going against a thousand niggas just as grimy as you are.
“This time, don’t even give them a chance to hit back. You can’t kill one; you have to kill them all. If you want to get them and do it right, you have to infiltrate their organization. You have to get close and go from the inside out,” Robyn said, thinking about how they failed at every attempt to take down The Cartel using other tactics.
“Fuck that! I’ma do this my way,” Murder said as his trigger finger began to itch.
“No, Murder. Chu have to listen to Robyn. You are going to be next if you go in blazing. Me no want to see no more dying. If anybody is going to be put in the dirt, let it be someone from the other side. Trust us. Please just do it our way,” Aries pleaded as she looked into Murder’s bloodshot eyes.
Robyn placed her hand on Murder’s shoulder and looked in his eyes. She noticed the burning desire for revenge, and she had to let Murder know that he was dealing with a different breed when it came to The Cartel. “Murder, these niggas not playing. If you kill one, they are going to come and kill ten of yours. That’s how they operate, so you have to do this thing right. You have to get in good with them and find out a way to kill them all at once. That way, you can dismantle them from the top. Kill the head, and the body will fall. Trust me!” Robyn said as a tear dropped as she thought of Miamor.
Murder nodded his head, giving in to her. He was willing to do whatever it took to take down The Cartel.
“We are going to get these niggas back,” Robyn said as she quickly wiped the tear away and looked into the waves bouncing on top of the massive body of water.
“I want to do this one alone. The best way to do something is to do it solo. That’s how I work,” Murder said as he dropped his head and shook it from side to side. He then looked over at Aries and said, “Let’s get this over with.”
Aries opened the urn that had Miamor’s remains in it. They decided to have her cremated because there was no way that she could have a funeral. Mecca had cut her up in four different pieces to prevent any hopes of a traditional open casket ceremony. Aries took a deep breath, glancing at Robyn and then Murder before she dropped a tear and released the ashes into the ocean. Forever Miamor would sleep with the fishes.
Chapter Seven
“Even family will betray you.”
– Garza
Carter may have been locked up, but he wasn’t dead, and in any circumstance, his survival instincts always kicked in. He was a hustler and could sell whatever, whenever, wherever, and prison was no exception. He knew of the weakened state that The Cartel was in, and he did not want to depend on anyone to keep him afloat, so although they had trapped his body, the feds could not contain his hustle. They had taken him off of the streets, but he had brought the streets to him.
He easily brought his product into the prison, and now he was running a lucrative heroin operation while locked up. The one thing that the game had taught him was that everybody loved money, and as long as everyone ate, things ran smoothly. Using a bitch as a mule was a sure way to get caught, so instead, he put correctional officers on his payroll. They brought it into the prison for him, and Zyir ensured that they were compensated properly with an anonymous wire transfer into each of their personal bank accounts. The guards were making more money working for Carter than they did on their day jobs, which made them compliant with all of his requests.
Carter wasn’t flashy, however. He got money low key, keeping just enough to keep his books full, and then had the rest delivered to Zyir, who was putting it toward his case. He kept to himself, and spent his time reading books. He knew that the only person who truly cared about his freedom was himself, so he educated himself on the law so that the system would not be able to jam him up. He
refused to let the feds lock him up and throw away the key.
As he sat silently on his bed, he peeked up at his cellmate. He knew that the Mexican cat did not like him, and the feeling was mutual. Carter would much rather be in a cell alone, but the overcrowding issues of the prison made it nearly impossible. The two never spoke. They kept a respectable distance from one another, always keeping their interactions to the bare minimum. They were a part of two different worlds, and because they had respect for the game that they both played, they had established an unspoken truce. What Carter did not know was that Garza had been watching him, and he had the power to offer Carter what he desperately craved-his freedom.
Carter sat alone at his table in the cafeteria as he ate silently. Although other members of The Cartel were incarcerated with him, he felt no need to be friendly. They were there for his protection and only his protection. He didn’t need another man to keep him company; his thoughts were enough. Miamor plagued his mind, as did the current state of The Cartel. They needed a plug and needed it bad. The low quality heroin he was running through the prison was not potent enough for his outside dealings. Scarcity made it acceptable inside the walls, but on the outside, it was a completely different game. Zyir and Mecca were grasping at straws trying to secure other connects, but nobody was willing to mess with them. Everyone was afraid of the repercussions of being associated with The Cartel. He was carrying huge burdens on his shoulders, and being locked up made him feel powerless. Detaching himself from the outside would be the only way that he would become accustomed to prison, but with Zyir, Mecca, and the responsibilities that came with being the leader of The Cartel it was hard to block it out.
As Carter ate, he watched an inmate approach his table. Carter continued to eat, unfazed as one of the members of The Cartel got up from the table next to him. His goons were never out of arm’s reach.
“Hold up, homeboy,” the loyal affiliate stated as he stopped the inmate in his tracks.
“Yo, I’m not on no beef shit. I know better than to beef with this man. I just came to rap with him for a second,” the inmate stated as he pulled a carton of cigarettes out of the top of his jail jumpsuit. The cigarettes were a sign of respect. In prison, money did not come easy, so the fact that the little nigga had spent a nice chunk of his commissary on them bought him a moment of Carter’s time.
Carter’s goon looked at him for approval, and Carter nodded his head for him to let the boy pass. The goon patted the inmate down for good measure to ensure that the visit really was a friendly one.
“Carter, I’ve heard a lot about you, and I just wanted to personally introduce myself. I’m from Opa-Locka, and when I was on the outside, I was doing my thing thing, you know?” he stated as he clapped his hands together. “I know that’s your territory and all, ‘cause you sent the young goon Zyir through to shut my shit down. I wanted to let you know ain’t no hard feelings or nothing on my end, but I am trying to get on board with your movement. I’m outta here in a few months, and I don’t got nothing to go home to. Like, nothing, fam. So when I say I’m hungry, I mean it. I don’t want to make the mistake of stepping on your toes again, so I wanted to know what I have to do to get down. I’ll put in work any way you need me to,” the guy finished.
Carter continued to eat and didn’t even look up as he said, “What did you say your name was?”
“Ibrahim,” the guy replied.
Carter took his time and gathered his thoughts before he spoke. The uncomfortable silence between the two men made the inmate shift nervously from side to side.
Finally, Carter looked up at the dude. “Sit down, my man. Everybody don’t need to hear what I’m about to say.”
Feeling as if Carter was about to put him on, the guy smiled as he took a seat across from the hood legend. Carter’s name indeed rang bells in and out of prison. Anyone in the game knew exactly who he was.
“You said my li’l man Zyir shut your shit down?” Carter asked.
The dude nodded and replied, “Yeah, he told me I was out of bounds. That those blocks were already spoken for.”
“And what did you do to handle that situation?” Carter asked.
“I didn’t mean no disrespect, fam. I moved my operation to a different block,” he replied.
“See, that’s where my problem lies, Ibrahim. Do you think I got where I am by letting other niggas run me off the block?” Carter asked. “Now, if you had blazed on my li’l nigga, maybe then we would have something to talk about. That would have showed me you had heart, but you didn’t. You let another man, who bleeds just like you bleed, stop you from getting money. I can’t afford to have any weak links in my chain, Ibrahim.”
With that said, Carter resumed his meal as he waited for Ibrahim to dismiss himself. The conversation was over, but Carter knew there would be more to come. Many men had approached him since he had been locked up, and it was always the same story. Everybody wanted to be put on, but Carter didn’t rock with new niggas. He knew that if he let too many people into his circle, it would not seem exclusive. Everybody in the hood wanted to be a part of something, but unfortunately, not many fit the bill to be a member of The Cartel. Carter definitely had no use for a scary nigga. He only wanted the elite.
The inmate nodded his head, his ego slightly bruised as he stood to his feet. He slowly slid the cigarette carton over to Carter.
“For your time,” he said respectfully.
Carter nodded his head and stood to his feet as he headed back to his cell. He handed the carton to Garza as soon as he entered. Carter didn’t smoke cigarettes, and although he never spoke to his cellmate, he always passed the unwanted gifts along to him.
“How did you end up in here?” Garza asked. Carter looked up in surprise. They had never engaged one another before, so the question was completely unexpected.
“An associate of mine found himself on the wrong side of the law. It was a person who I thought I could trust, someone who I grew up with. He was like family.”
“Even family will betray you,” Garza interrupted as he lit a smoke.
“So I learned,” Carter replied with a chuckle. The situation was comical to him. He had done nothing but show Ace love, but the first chance Ace got, he had stabbed him in the back-and plunged the blade deep. Carter knew that once Ace took the stand and testified against him, that it would be all the jury needed to hear to convict him.
“I’ve been watching you, observing how you move. I’ve seen how the men in here treat you,” Garza replied. “Even the guards march to the beat of your drum. It would be a shame to see a man of your talents end up in here because of a snake. It seems that your problem could be handled if you knew who to ask for help.”
“I don’t ask for help. Anything that I can’t do on my own is not worth doing. I’ve never owed anyone anything a day in my life,” Carter stated surely. He did not know what Garza was getting at, but already he did not like the sound of it.
“That is the problem with your kind.”
“There’s not another man like me. I don’t have a kind,” Carter interrupted sternly.
“I do not mean any disrespect, but the Blacks don’t know how to form alliances. Someone with your mentality could be very valuable. The way that you move product is a skill that not many people have. The power you have over others is rare as well. I’ve done my research on you and The Cartel. If you are willing to extend a hand of friendship, I know some people who can help you out of your predicament.”
Carter’s interest was piqued. “Nobody does anything for free.”
“A partnership between the Diamond Cartel and the Garza Cartel would be payment enough. We have the product that you need, and you have the influence that we need in the South. Together we would be unstoppable.”
“Until one party becomes envious of the other,” Carter protested.
The old man shook his head as he continued to smoke. “That will never become a problem for us. I can guarantee that my people are not in it for the limeli
ght, only the money. As long as the money is correct, there will not be a problem. This could be a beautiful thing if you are willing to expand your horizons.”
“I don’t work underneath others,” Carter insisted.
“Not under others, Carter, with others. There is a difference Working with my people, your reach will be limitless. Mexico is not like the United States. In my country, we are above the law,” Garza explained.
“Why are you still in here? If it is so easy to make my case disappear, why not do the same for yourself?” Carter asked. Although the deal was appealing, he was skeptical to trust Garza’s word too quickly. He wanted to cover all of his bases.
“I chose my own destiny. I’m an old man. An organization of my family’s magnitude leaves a lot of bodies in its path. Someone has to be held accountable for those. I took responsibility because I saw the bigger picture. I’m in here for twenty different counts of confessed murder. I have lived my life and done my part so that my family’s reign could go on. What I’m offering you is a deal too sweet for any man to refuse.”
Garza extended his hand, and Carter reluctantly accepted. “Nothing will be set in stone until a face to face is held. I’ll send my right hand, Zyir, to meet with your people,” Carter stated.
“I will phone home tomorrow to let my brother Felipe know to expect him. This will be a beautiful thing for everyone involved.”
“Only time will tell,” Carter responded. He knew that getting in bed with the Mexican drug cartel could prove very wise. He just had to ensure that everyone understood the terms of the agreement, because if something went wrong, Carter was almost certain that The Cartel would not be able to withstand another war.
Mecca could not take it anymore. Watching his back every second of every day was becoming too much to bear. He knew that there was only one way to dead his beef with Estes. He had to go see his grandfather. The same man who had sent the killers to his front door was the only one who could call them off. He hoped that he could reason with Estes and that he would remember that Monroe was not his only grandson.