by Ashley
Breeze gathered herself. She didn’t have time to do this right now. Her brother was in trouble. Her nephew needed her. There was no doubt in her mind about what had to be done. Her father would have killed Zyir for the trespass. Mecca would have tortured him slowly. Monroe would have cut him off. Carter would have mourned the betrayal. All of these things would have been a well-deserving consequence to the choice that Zyir had made, but no punishment would hurt as much as the one Breeze was about to deliver. She opened the door to the bathroom and Zyir stood, hands on either side of the door, blocking her exit as he stared at her with regret-filled eyes.
“Let me be clear. You and I are over. I won’t give birth to the seed of a snitch. I’m aborting this baby and I never want to see you again. My family meant everything to me, and you destroyed it,” she said. She pushed past him and headed for the door.
“It was either them or you. If I didn’t do it, they were going to indict you for the bricks that were in the back of the trunk from the traffic stop a while back. I cooperated to make sure that didn’t happen,” Zyir admitted.
His words halted her midstep and her heart sank. “What?” she said as she turned toward him. Tears moistened her cheeks as it all began to make sense. She could fathom this. She knew that his love for her outweighed all. It overrode his loyalty to even his oldest friend, Carter.
“I couldn’t let you do a day in prison, Breeze. You’re my wife … my rib … if I have to choose between my character and your freedom, you’re going to win that battle every time. It ain’t right,” Zyir said, growing emotional as she saw pools of anguish build in his eyes. He quickly blinked away the tears and composed himself. “But it was my only option. I came up with Carter. He is my family, just as much as he is yours. You think I wanted to do this? You think this shit hasn’t eaten away at me every day? You can’t leave me, B. You can’t kill my seed,” Zyir said as he got on his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed her stomach, and Breeze closed her eyes. So many feelings coursed through her body. She loved and hated this man all at the same time. “You’re all I have left.”
“You shouldn’t have made this decision for me,” Breeze whispered. “My family isn’t built on disloyalty, Zy. I would have done twenty years before I would have given up my brothers. I’m not the strongest Diamond. I’m not the bravest or the most gangster, but I am the most loyal. They are my brothers. We share the same blood. You have ruined them. You have ruined me. You should have said something—if not to me, then to Carter at least. Snitching is never an option. So now what? They get jammed up and you walk away free for dirt that you all did together. You were supposed to be family. What future could we ever have now?”
Zyir stood to his feet and cradled her face in his hands, his face frowning in inner agony. “We can have the rest of our lives, Breeze. Don’t leave me, B. I just wanted to protect you,” he said.
Breeze took a step back. Her heart was shattered because she no longer trusted him. She had no idea that there was even a side to him that could do something so foul. She wanted to be his wife, to be the mother of his child, and the ride-or-die on his arm, but she couldn’t.
“I can’t be with you and I can’t have this baby. I don’t want any piece of you inside of me. I never thought the day would come where I would see you as my enemy,” she said. Her words weren’t malicious, but they were sad because they both knew that she meant them. He deserved them, and they pierced his heart like tiny daggers. “Good-bye, Zyir.” It pained her to walk away from him. She knew his intentions were good, but she just couldn’t look him in the eyes. Zyir had been her king. Her superman. She had looked up to him, placing him on a throne so far up that no one could ever touch him. By cooperating with the feds, she had lost all respect for him. Once she no longer held a man in high regard, he would be deemed unworthy of her forever.
She thought that he would come after her. She was sure that he would plead his case over and over again, but he didn’t. She was grateful for that much. Breeze didn’t want him to see her break down as she rushed out of the house. This was the last conversation they would have. She had no words. There was nothing left to say. She climbed in her car and pressed the button to start the ignition. Before she could even pull away …
BANG!
The sound of a single gunshot echoed through the air. Breeze jumped, and her head snapped in the direction of their home.
“No,” she whispered. She fumbled with the door handle and exited the car, but before she could even take a step, she stopped herself. She bit down on her bottom lip and sobbed. She hit the roof of the car. “Damn it, Zyir!” she screamed. She already knew what had gone down. She didn’t want to see it. Seeing him with a bullet in his head at his own hand would alter who she was. She would be haunted by it for the rest of her life. It was the punishment for the act of betrayal he had committed. If he hadn’t done it, eventually someone would have. Instead of running from the inevitable, Zyir had welcomed it. He hadn’t done all of this to end up alone. Without Breeze, life wasn’t worth living.
Breeze climbed back in her car and beat her steering wheel in frustration as she cried and cried and cried. This was not how things were supposed to be, but it was her reality. In the blink of an eye, Zyir had changed the game for everyone. She picked up her cell and dialed 911.
“911. What is your emergency?”
“I’m worried about my husband. I think he may have hurt himself, and I’m not home. Could you please send an officer out to 707 Susan Lane?”
She hung up and put her car in drive as she pulled away from their mansion, wrecked with plenty of regret.
She was headed back to Miami, where The Cartel had begun and where it would now end—all because of the man she had chosen to love.
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
Loneliness. That’s what Carter felt as he walked the streets of Barcelona while looking at pictures of his son, Mo, and Breeze. He was grateful for those images. They made his days a little bit easier, giving him temporary relief from the anguish that was a constant weight on his heart.
His narrow escape hadn’t given him time to take C.J. with him. He had been forced once again by the law to leave his son behind. Not being with him was torture, and Carter was biding his time until he could return. He vowed to walk back into C.J.’s life one day. Until then, a phone call once a month to a burner phone and postcards would have to be enough.
He ducked down an obscure alleyway, pulling the collar of his Burberry trench coat up over his neck as he kept his head low. Whenever he went to public places, he kept a low profile. He was wanted in the States. If he was ever caught, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would spend the rest of his days in a federal prison. He vowed not to meet that fate.
He entered the building where he had been holing up. It was a one-bedroom flat that sat on the top floor, overlooking the busy city. The feds had seized his accounts, but luckily he’d had the foresight to stash half of his money in a Swiss account. He could live the rest of his days luxuriously if he chose, but right now he just wanted to restore a sense of normalcy to his life. Things had spiraled so far out of control that he no longer knew how to rein in his problems. They overwhelmed him. Burdened him. Destroyed his inner peace. He entered the flat and quickly locked the door behind him. He had only the necessities. He didn’t want to acquire anything that he would regret having to leave behind. Living the life of a wanted man, there was no way to know when he would have to up and leave. He had to move carefully if he wanted to remain free. Carter sat down and flicked on the television, turning to CNN.
It was the only way he could see her face. Miamor was awaiting trial, and her story had been plastered all over the news for months. The feds were portraying her as a murderous queen pin. The new-age Griselda, they had dubbed her. Carter knew that the description was accurate. Miamor was a villain. She wasn’t the good girl in anyone’s story except his own, but she wasn’t being prosecuted for her crimes. S
he was taking the fall for his, and that fact tortured him daily. She was a good woman. The most real that a man in his position could ever dream of, but she was still a woman. She shouldn’t have to carry this for him. She was facing life in prison while he was hiding in the shadows in Spain. It didn’t feel right, and every day he was compelled to go back.
He picked up the burner cell phone and speed-dialed Breeze.
“What’s wrong? You’re not supposed to call until next week?” Breeze asked as soon as she answered the phone.
“I miss my son, Breeze. My wife’s face is on the TV screen. She has nobody, B. She’s fighting these charges by herself. I’m a man. I can’t let her take this for me,” Carter said as he sat down on his couch while staring at the news.
“This is how she wanted it, Carter. You can’t come back here. Not right now. Probably not for a while,” Breeze said. “And you can’t call here too often. This is risky. You said once a month,” she reminded him.
“I know. I’m losing it over here, Breeze,” Carter said. It wasn’t often that he revealed his vulnerability but Breeze was his sister and she was the only one who could relate to the type of loss he was suffering from.
“I know. I’m losing it here, too. Being in Miami won’t make the pain go away, Carter. I live through it every minute of everyday,” she whispered. “Zyir—”
“Was a good nigga,” Carter said, interrupting her before she could defame Zyir’s character. “He was a good nigga in a bad situation, Breeze.”
They both grew silent. They hadn’t spoken of Zyir since everything had fallen apart. Carter’s eyes grew misty and he quickly blinked them away. “Remind yourself of that when you’re rubbing your belly. That baby’s father was a real nigga. He held me down for a lot of years. You can’t fault a man for doing the unthinkable to protect the woman he loves. He wasn’t trying to get himself out of trouble with the law, B. He was trying to save you. It’s fucked up and his actions hurt us all, but I understand it. The love of a woman will make you step out of character. I just wish he had come to me.”
He could hear Breeze’s sniffles through the phone and he knew he had brought her to tears. “Thank you for talking me into keeping this baby, Carter,” Breeze whispered. “It’s all of him that I have left. I just drove away that day. I didn’t look back when I heard the shot. I just drove away. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“We all have things we wish we could go back and do differently, B,” Carter replied solemnly. “Go see him. The fact that he took one to the head and didn’t die is reason enough to check on him,” Carter said.
“I just can’t,” she replied.
His heart was fractured. Without Miamor and C.J., he felt empty … soulless. He was incomplete. Despite the fact that Zyir had broken the code, he didn’t want Breeze to feel the loneliness that he lived with.
“You want to speak to him? We’ve already been on the phone too long,” Breeze said, changing the subject to C.J. They always restricted their communication. The last thing they needed was for Carter to be caught.
“Just for a moment,” Carter said. “I’ll be brief.”
Carter heard the rustling on the other end as Breeze called his son to the phone.
“Hello?” C.J. greeted him.
“Hey, big man,” Carter said.
“Daddy!” C.J. replied. “What’s up! Where are you? You on your way back yet?”
“Nah, not yet, C.J. Dad is handling some business right now, but I’ll be back one day. It might take me a while, but remember that I love you. Your mother—she loves you. Until I get back, your aunt B is gonna take care of you, a’ight? Don’t give her a hard time. Keep your head on straight and stay out of trouble,” Carter said, clearing his throat to make sure his torment wasn’t reflected in his tone.
“Yeah, a’ight, Dad,” C.J. said. “I love you, too. I’ve got to go. Me and Mo about to go hoop.”
Carter chuckled. His son was getting older by the day. He was only eight, but each time he spoke to him, he seemed to have matured. “Take care of each other, C.J. That’s family, and family is—”
“All you got,” C.J. finished. “I know, Dad. Got to go. Later!” he shouted as he dropped the phone. Carter was amazed at the resiliency of children. He wished that he could bounce back as easily as C.J. did, but life hadn’t burned his son yet. He knew nothing about the woes that Carter suffered from.
Breeze got back on the phone. “Carter, I’ve got to go. The police are pulling into my driveway,” she whispered.
He could hear panic in her voice. “Stay on the phone, B,” Carter replied. “How many of them?” he asked. He stood to his feet. This was the problem. He was too far away.
“Three squad cars and a SWAT truck,” Breeze replied.
“Boys, get in here!” she shouted, her voice shaking. “Carter, what the hell are they doing here? What could they possibly want now?”
Carter’s jaw tensed, and he gritted his teeth while pinching the bridge of his nose. Stress invaded his entire body. “I don’t know. Call Einstein on your house phone. Hurry,” Carter instructed.
Before she could even respond, Carter heard a loud …
BOOM!
The sound of the door being rammed off the hinges echoed through the phone as Carter heard yelling on the other end of the phone.
“On the ground, now! On the ground! Who else is in the house?”
Carter heard the phone drop, and his stomach went hollow.
“Nobody! Just my kids! Two boys, but they’re just kids!” Breeze shouted.
“Breeze Rich, you are under arrest…”
Carter went deaf as he heard the officers reading his pregnant sister her rights. He gripped the phone as the screams of his son and his nephew shouted at the officers.
“Who do we have here?” a voice said, finally picking up the cell phone. Carter was livid. The fact that he couldn’t do anything had him heated. It took everything in him not to say anything. He clenched his teeth so tight that the pressure made his jaw ache. Carter sat on the phone, listening, as did the officer who had picked up the line. They were at a standoff, waiting for each other to speak.
“Who is this?” Carter finally spoke.
“Agent Rivard, with the IRS. Who is this?” the man asked.
“You know who this is,” Carter responded pompously. Carter knew this game. The DEA couldn’t pin a narcotics case against Breeze, so in came the money police, the IRS. They would slap her with tax evasion, fraud, and any other monetary crime that they could make stick. The feds were out for blood, his blood. Breeze’s arrest was a sure way to smoke him out of his hole. “Agent Rivard. You should have left well enough alone. I’ll see you soon.”
“Is that a threat?” the agent shouted. “Are you threatening me, you son of a bitch?”
“Absolutely,” Carter replied. He ended the call and rushed over to the small safe he kept beneath the bed. In it were numerous passports with different aliases. He grabbed one and then stormed out of the door.
His anger overwhelmed him. His heart beat as if there were thoroughbred racehorses inside of his chest. He couldn’t sit in Europe tucked away safely while his family was taking hits that were meant for him. First Miamor, now Breeze. Breeze was the most innocent of them all. If she went down, his son, Money’s son—they would have nowhere to go. No, this couldn’t happen, and he wasn’t going to let it. He hailed a cab, knowing that it would be damn near impossible for him to catch one easily. To his surprise, one pulled up quickly. Carter hopped inside. “El Prat,” he said, telling the driver to head to the airport.
His brow was wrinkled in stress and concern as he stared out of his window. “My man, why aren’t we moving? I don’t have all day,” Carter said.
The door across from him opened, and a woman slid into the cab. “This cab is taken—”
Before he could even finish his sentence, the woman pulled out a syringe and injected it into the side of his neck. Carter gripped her wrist as his eyes bulged in f
ear. Suddenly his hold on her loosened and his body went limp against his will. He watched helplessly as a smirk of satisfaction crossed her face. He tried to place her face. Who was she? Was this one of Baraka’s hitters? Ma’tee’s? He couldn’t help but wonder which part of his past had come back to haunt him. As he tried to figure it out, the world around him faded. His heart burned as sweat beads appeared on his forehead. Damn, he thought. This was not the way he thought he would go out. The fear in his eyes made the woman burst into laughter. “Relax, baby, you’re not dying. I just need you to go to sleep for a little while. Night, night,” she said. No matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, they slowly closed. The last image he saw was her red, pouty lips mocking him. Once he was out, the woman slyly leaned Carter against his door.
“Everything all set?” the driver asked.
“All set. It’s about time the opportunity presented itself. We’ve been waiting for this moment. Let’s head to the clear port,” she replied.
* * *
Carter groaned as he came to. He felt the fabric of a pillowcase over his head. It stifled his breaths as the fabric covered his nose, slightly suffocating him as he sucked in his own recycled air. There were others in the room. He could hear them, struggling, questioning, demanding the same answers to questions he pondered himself. Carter sat stoically as he realized his hands and legs were bound to the chair he had been planted in. Everything was fuzzy. Voices sounded far away. He was still groggy from the effects of being drugged, and he had no idea where he had been taken. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts from the heavy fog that was weighing down his mental. He couldn’t think straight. His senses were dulled, but his heart sensed very well that danger was near.