by Ashley
He gripped her wrists as he gasped. “I’m . . . Mia . . . ” Tears of excruciation filled his reddened eyes.
“Help me!!!” she screamed. She felt hands pulling her off of him as she struggled to stay near him. “No!! No! I have to be with him! Get the fuck off of me! I need to be with him!” Sirens were heard in the distance and curious bystanders filtered out of the casino. She heard Zyir and Monroe fighting their way through the crowd.
Carter motioned for Zyir as he opened his mouth, attempting to speak. Zyir kneeled by his man. “Don’t talk bro, just hold on,” Zyir coached. Carter was persistent however and used the little strength he had to pull Zyir.
“Leave . . . town . . . go back . . .” he grimaced as he grit his teeth as blood filled his mouth. “home. Live . . . through . . . this.”
Zyir nodded, but Carter seemed to be talking in circles. Live through what? Hadn’t they already survived the worst. Carter was speaking as if he knew that today was his day of reckoning; as if this was only the beginning. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?!!!” Zyir screamed, fearing the worst.
Pure horror crossed their faces as Monroe sprang to action. “We not waiting on the fucking ambulance. Help me get him in the car!”
Leena rushed out and hurried to Miamor’s side, but Breeze paused as she looked at Miamor in doubt. “Did you do this?”
Miamor squinted her eyes in confusion and shook her head in denial. How could she ask me this? Why would she . . . “Did you shoot him?!”
The question came out like an accusation, smacking her in the face and suddenly all eyes were on her. Leena placed her hands over her mouth in shock as everyone waited for her to answer. Miamor had no response. She was stunned into silence as she shook uncontrollably. Did Baraka do this? How did word get back to him so fast? Miamor had known that there would be repercussions for killing Yasmine. Her rage had prevented her from caring, but now that she was covered in Carter’s blood, fear seized her. Zyir helped her from the ground. He didn’t know what had gone down, but Miamor was Carter’s wife . . . his everything. He knew Carter well and if today was his day to die, Miamor’s face would be the last one he would want to see. “Let’s go. Figure this shit out later. Carter needs you.”
Miamor stood shakily to her feet as she was escorted to his car. She looked up at him with terrified eyes. “Zyir, I fucked up,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “I think I just started another war.”
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I killed Yasmine,” she replied.
Zyir’s eyes widened at the revelation and his jaw clenched as he grit his teeth. He put the car in drive and sped away. Now he knew why Carter had told him to shake town and he knew that his days in Las Vegas were numbered. As soon as he got the chance he and Breeze would kiss sin city good-bye and start their lives over somewhere else. Zyir didn’t know how to clean up this mess but he was sure of one thing. There was a storm coming and he didn’t know if The Cartel could weather another disaster.
* * *
Fly Boogie quickly dismantled the M-24 sniper rifle with speed and placed it in a large duffel. Not wanting to draw attention to himself he strolled casually to his Range, tossing the duffel in the backseat before getting in and driving away.
Fuck that nigga, Fly Boogie thought. She better off without him anyway. Fly Boogie had just risked it all for Miamor and she didn’t even know it. Carter had crossed her and broken her heart but that wasn’t enough. Fly Boogie knew that a man like Carter never lost. Miamor loved him too much and as long as he was breathing she would have taken him back. Fly wasn’t standing for it. He wanted to throw his hat in the ring and in order to do that he had to get rid of the competition. He only wished he had a better shot. His nerves had caused him to aim low. One to the head would have put a tag on Carter’s toe for sure. Now he would have to wait and see how Carter fared before making his move. Malice hadn’t been his intention when he first followed the Cartel. In fact, he had nothing but respect for Carter but five years of being next to Miamor had him fiending to make it forever. She would never admit her feelings for him as long as Carter was breathing. All was fair in love and war. When it came to Miamor he would do whatever to ensure that he won her heart . . . if it meant going against the grain and biting the hand that fed him . . . than so be it.
Chapter 24
“Today just might be the day I die.”
—Carter Jones
One Week Later
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The steady pace of the heart monitor was the only cryptic sound that filled the room. Monroe sat silently, head bowed, forehead resting on his steepled fingers as he prayed for a miracle. Gangsters weren’t at the top of the blessings list. The life style they led made them undeserving of one, but Monroe prayed all the same. Shit was in disarray. Everyone was on edge. Miamor had sparked a flame that was about to burn their entire empire down. Monroe had goons at Carter’s door 24 hours a day. Even when visiting hours ended, a skilled gun waited in the lobby for the clock to spin until they began again. Carter was too vulnerable to go unprotected. With a bullet to the chest, he was lucky to even be alive. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but after days of being on a ventilator he was finally breathing on his own. That was one step in the right direction. The grim reaper was at Carter’s door and there was nothing that anyone could do to save him. Carter had to fight it. “Just open your eyes bro,” Monroe stated.
The weight of the world seemed to fall on Monroe’s shoulders. Carter’s wishes were to send Zyir away and although Zyir had fought it, Monroe sent him away. Baraka had been silent but Monroe knew that enemies unseen were the worst kind. He needed Breeze safe. He didn’t want her in the middle of another war and although they needed the manpower, Zyir had to leave. Zyir was the only person on Earth that Monroe was sure loved Breeze fully. Zyir would die before he let anything happen to Breeze. It had been imperative that they leave. Monroe had wanted to lead the Cartel for so long. He had wanted to fill his father’s shoes, to be the boss . . . but now that Carter’s life hung in the balance it no longer mattered. They were blood brothers; the only two men left to carry on their father’s legacy. There was a time when their bond hadn’t been so strong but now they were each other’s keeper. If Carter’s death is what it took for Monroe to step into his father’s shoes, than he no longer wanted to. It was family over everything, including ambition. Monroe’s phone rang and he knew exactly who it was before he answered. Miamor. She had been calling on the hour for a week to see if Carter had awakened. She too had been sent away. Monroe had sent her to Aries’ place in Idaho. No one, including Baraka would look for her there. The last thing he needed was for her to die on his watch. Until Carter awakened Miamor would remain in hiding. No matter how gangster she thought she was, Monroe could see the fear in her eyes. She had crossed a dangerous line, and until Carter woke up, it was Monroe’s job to keep her safe.
“Money, how is he?” she asked without saying hello.
“He’s the same. Not good, not bad. There is no change in his status,” Monroe informed.
“I need to see him,” she whispered. He could hear her strife in her tone. “I need to see my son. Maybe if I just come . . . if he knows I’m there . . .”
“It’s not safe Miamor. Everyone is ducked off somewhere. C.J. is safe with Leena and my son. She will keep them safe. They have protection. Baraka is going to come for you and when he does, C.J. can’t be anywhere near you.”
“I know . . . I know,” Miamor whispered with regret. “I was upset with Carter, but I didn’t do this Money. I never meant for any of this to happen. I was so mad. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“I know Miamor. Look, I’ll keep you posted. I’ve got to go. Try to rest and don’t get restless. Just stay put,” he instructed.
“Hmm.”
The sound of Carter’s groggy moans were music to Monroe’s ears. He looked left to see his brother opening his eyes, slowly as if his lids were weighted down. Monroe raced to the beds
ide. “Wake up bro. Come back to this side my G,” Monroe coerced as he leaned over him, anxiously. Carter woke up, struggling, fear filled as he attempted to rise. “Nah man, you can’t Carter. You got to relax. You’ve been shot.”
Carter laid back, exhausted, weak, and in extreme pain. Monroe rushed out into the hall and grabbed the first doctor that he saw. “He’s awake. He’s finally awake,” he said.
The woman rushed in behind Monroe and immediately went to Carter’s aid. “Welcome back Mr. Jones,” she said, speaking calmly.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You were shot, a bullet pierced your lung and you lost a lot of blood. I would say that you’re lucky, but you had a pretty skilled surgeon on your side,” the doctor said with a wink. She had skin the color of coffee beans and her hair was cut short. With majestically dark eyes and a smile as white as pearls, Carter felt like he was staring into the eyes of an angel. She was beautiful, not only because she had saved him, but because she was uniquely crafted. God broke the mold when he made her.
“I believe you,” he replied in a low tone. “Can you work that same magic and take some of this pain away?”
He grimaced as he spoke and the way he slurred his words made it obvious that he still wasn’t clear headed.
“We had you on a mild sedative to allow your body to heal without much effort. I’ll run something stronger through the I.V. and be back to check on you in a few hours. The most important thing for you to do is to rest up. You have a good team of doctors. We’ll make sure that you make a full recovery,” she assured.
Monroe spoke. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll need his discharge papers immediately. He will heal at home. I’ll hire the best doctors . . . you if I have to.”
The woman shook her head and frowned in confusion. “I can not issue discharge papers for him. He is in the best care here. Anything could happen. He is in ICU. Once his healing progresses that may be an option but for now, he’s not going anywhere,” she responded.
Monroe nodded and waited until she left the room before turning to Carter. “I’ve got the entire floor guarded. There are two at the door and one in the lobby. Nobody’s getting to you bro. You’re safe. Zyir and Breeze are back in Flint. Leena and the kids are safe . . .”
“Miamor?” Carter asked.
“She’s safe. Off the grid. Baraka will never find her as long as she stays put,” Monroe said. “She’s hard headed than a mu’fucka though bro. You’ve got your hands full with that one.”
Carter couldn’t help but give a lazy chuckle. He grimaced as the laughter sent pain quaking through his entire body. “Tell me about it,” he replied.
Monroe picked up his cell. “I’ll call her. She’ll be glad to hear you’re awake,” Monroe said. He attempted to dial, then frowned when the call failed. “No service,” he said. He went to the landline and picked up the hospital phone. “Damn this mu’fucka dead too.” A knock at the door interrupted them as Fly Boogie slowly entered.
“Come in li’l nigga, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Monroe stated.
Carter spoke up. “Go make that call G. Tell her to stay put and that I love her. Fly can hold it down until you get back, plus there are two on the door. I’m good.”
Fly Boogie eased into the room as Monroe made his exit.
“Glad to see you’re up big homie,” Fly Boogie stated as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at Carter. His heart beat rapidly. He felt see through, as if Carter could sense the snake in him. He knew better however. He had been careful. He had covered his tracks. No one, not even Miamor knew that he was the trigger man behind the gun. His only regret was that he had been unable to get a head shot. One between the eyes would have ensured Miamor’s widow status and given Fly Boogie nothing but opportunity to move in on her. He would become her shoulder to cry on and once her mourning was over, he would eventually become her man. He wanted to be Carter. He wanted to stand in his shoes. Little did he know, they were too big to fill.
“Glad to be seen my G,” Carter responded. “I want to talk to you.”
“About what?” Fly asked, nervously.
“Have a seat next to me. I just woke up. I’m weak. Even speaking too loudly hurts,” Carter stated.
Fly Boogie slowly walked to the chair next to the bed and sat.
“Zyir is taking a little vacation and shit is about to get real. I’ma need someone to take his spot . . . someone I can trust. Monroe and I can’t hold shit down by ourselves. While we were away you held my family down. You were loyal to Miamor and to the Cartel. I want to pull you closer, put some money in your pocket, show you the game.”
“I’m good. I’m eating,” Fly Boogie stated.
Carter smirked. “That’s mediocre money. You’re hood rich. You’re on the distribution side of the game Fly. I’m talking corporate. Private jets, hundreds of kilos, all that. We ain’t on no corner shit. I’m asking you to stand beside me, not behind me,” Carter explained. “But there’s a war to get through first. Lines have been crossed and if we’re going to come out on top I need killers around me; loyal niggas that I can trust. Can I trust you li’l homie?”
* * *
Monroe stepped out of the elevator and walked across the marble hospital floor, his red bottom designer shoes hitting hard against the tile. “Fuck is up with the service in this bitch?” he mumbled to himself as he tried to get his phone to work. He stopped over at the reception desk. “Is there a phone I can use?” he asked.
The nurse shook her head and replied, “The phone lines are down in the entire hospital.”
He nodded and turned away, “Of course they are,” he mumbled sarcastically. “How hard is it to find a working phone?” It was important for him to get the word out that Carter was now awake. It would keep Miamor in place and stop her from doing anything drastic. He stepped outside the hospital doors and held his phone up trying to catch reception. When his eyes caught sight of the red beam that was traveling through the air and aimed at his chest he panicked. “Oh shit!” he said as he backpedaled, rushing back inside the glass doors of the hospital. He looked outside and his eyes widened in shock. Five SUV’s sat in front of the entrance. The windows were blacked out, but when one of them rolled down he recognized them instantly. They were Arab. Baraka’s men and they had the entire entrance covered. “Fuck!” he uttered. He rushed to the back entrance and opened the door slightly to find that another Caravan of trucks waited there as well. They were surrounded and although he was strapped, and he had guards at Carter’s door, they were outnumbered. He rushed back to Carter’s room. They had to get out of there one way or another.
* * *
“Can I trust you?” Carter asked again.
“Of course, yeah fam, I got you,” Fly Boogie replied. Carter held up his hand and Fly Boogie gave him a gangster’s shake, but when Carter looked at his wrist he frowned. Carter tightened his grip, using all of his strength as he pulled Fly Boogie near in hostility. “The fuck is this?”
Fly Boogie’s eyes went to the tattoo that adorned his wrist. MIAMOR. It read. He had completely forgotten that it was visible. He snatched his arm back, shaking loose from Carter’s vice grip as he stuttered. “That’s . . . nothing . . . big . . .”
Before he could get the explanation out of his mouth Monroe rushed in. “We’ve got a problem. The whole fucking hospital is surrounded by Baraka’s men. They got this bitch locked down. I stepped one foot outside and almost got my fucking head blown off. Fly you strapped?”
Grateful for the interruption, Fly Boogie averted Carter’s deadly stare and lifted his shirt exposing his pistol. “Always my nigga,” he replied.
Carter saw red. He wanted to body Fly Boogie, but he kept his cool and placed the issue at the back of his mind. Right now they had bigger fish to fry. “We’ve got to get you out of here,” Monroe said, directing his attention to Carter. “I couldn’t get word to Miamor. My phone ain’t working, neither are the hospital lines. Hand me your phone,” he said
to Fly Boogie. Fly immediately tensed because if Monroe went through his phone he would find dirt on him. Fly Boogie had all types of pictures of Miamor in his phone. Pictures that he had taken of her when nobody was even paying attention. Her number was also in his call log too frequently but if he refused he would arouse further suspicion. He could feel Carter eyeing him. The spotlight was on him, he pulled out his phone and looked at it, quickly switching his screen saver from Miamor’s face to default. He erased her contact information as well. “The fuck? Li’l nigga hurry up,” Monroe said impatiently. Fly passed it to Monroe, apprehensively. Monroe slid the bar across the screen but before he could even dial one number he saw that the bars were low. “Your signal is blocked too.”
“Its Baraka,” Carter informed matter of factly. “Every phone in this building is probably useless. That’s the oldest trick in the book.”
“I’ll go out and see if I can find a working line,” Fly Boogie stated. Just as he was about to slide out of the room Carter stopped him.
“We gone finish that conversation,” he stated, his bark fierce . . . territorial.
Fly Boogie didn’t respond, but his eyes widened in reaction. He slipped out of the room and Monroe turned to Carter.
“We’re sitting ducks in this bitch,” Monroe stated.
“One way or another Baraka is coming through them doors. Miamor put Yasmine in the dirt. I love her bro. She’s my rib. She sinned. Somebody has to pay for that. It won’t be her though. It won’t be my son. It doesn’t have to be you either Money. You should have left with Zyir. This is my debt. I’ll pay it on behalf of Miamor. Get out of here Money. Today just might be the day I die.”
