by Ashley
Monroe pulled up a chair and sat beside his brother’s bed. He pulled the gun from his waist and put it in his lap and then pulled the gun from his ankle and passed it to Carter. “We’re brothers. We live through this together or we go out in a blaze of glory together. Either way I ain’t running.”
He held out his hand and Carter gripped it while grimacing. “That’s real shit. I love you bro,” Carter said.
“I love you too man.” Monroe replied.
Silence filled the room as they waited for the storm that was waiting outside the hospital doors. There was no resolution. Death was about to rain down upon them and all they could do was embrace it.
* * *
“I don’t even know why we’re here Mia. Monroe told you to stay hidden. The Arabs are serious. Dis isn’t a hood war. Dis shit is international. Dey will . . .”
Miamor cut Aries off. “I don’t care Aries! We’ve gone up against plenty of mu’fuckas. Baraka and his turbans don’t scare me. Not enough to stay away from Carter. He’s shot. He needs me,” she argued as Aries pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.
As soon as she pulled up she noticed the caravan posted at the entrance. She ducked down in her seat. As they drove by she watched a security guard approach one of the tinted vehicles. The window of one of the SUV’s rolled down slightly and Miamor watched in horror as a silenced bullet slumped the security guard. Two men climbed out of the back seat and picked up the body, stuffing it into the back of the truck without anyone even noticing. Miamor and Aries’ were the only witnesses.
“Its him, Baraka’s here,” Miamor whispered.
“I won’t die for Carter, Miamor. I have a child, you have a child,” Aries replied.
“Than let’s make sure we live to see another day,” Miamor replied sadly. Aries drove past the parking lot and back onto the street as their taillights disappeared into the night. Miamor couldn’t go up against a force so deadly without a plan. She would have to think first if she wanted to survive. She only prayed that Baraka didn’t get to Carter in the meantime. As much as she wanted to be by his side there would be no getting to his room tonight. Baraka knew her face and the army of Arabs waiting beyond the hospital doors were too dangerous to fight off alone. Anyone going up against them, would lose. What the hell have I done? She thought.
* * *
Fly Boogie rushed into his apartment in a frenzy but halted as soon as he smelled the pungent aroma of weed wafting from his living room. He came off his hip with his pistol and silently followed the path where the smoke was leading him.
“Put that shit down li’l nigga before I lay you out in this mu’fucka.”
Murder sat comfortably in Fly Boogie’s Lay-Z-Boy chair while smoking a blunt with one hand and holding a pistol in Fly’s direction with the other. “You’re a hard one to keep up with Fly. I hired you five years ago to get in with the Cartel. Paid you good money too my nigga. Twenty grand. To infiltrate and murk that nigga Carter. Imagine my surprise when I found out you skipped town. You just disappeared out of Miami. In fact, the entire fucking Cartel disappeared from Miami and came here. Only reason I even knew where to find you is because the news reported Carter Jones’ shooting outside a popular Vegas casino.”
“It ain’t like that Murder. I was just putting in work. It took time to get close. I was going to reach out. I finally hit the nigga Carter but he didn’t die. The nigga down bad though. He in ICU and everything. I slipped in to finish the job tonight but some shit popped off. I had to sneak out that bitch in hospital scrubs like I’m a nurse or some shit. Money was there and . . .”
“You keep insulting my intelligence and I’ma pop your melon,” Murder said, silencing Fly Boogie. Fly Boogie thought about shooting first but Murder read his mind. “By the time you get your aim right I’ll have one off already. I’m the better shot, believe that young.”
It was true, Murder had hired Fly. Just like Fly Boogie, Murder had a thing for Miamor. They both had a common goal to get Carter out of the way. At first, Fly Boogie was all about business. He had worked his way in. Miamor trusted him. Carter trusted him. Zyir had vouched for him. Monroe never doubted him. By the time he got down fully with the Cartel he was making way more than the measly twenty grand that Murder had paid. So he moved west and said fuck Murder’s hit, but by the time Carter got out of jail Fly Boogie had become completely smitten with Miamor. He wanted her for himself and he was determined to knock Carter off so that he could get close to her. Murder’s reemergence was another problem he would have to solve. Now not only was Carter in the way, so was Murder.
“I can still finish the job,” Fly Boogie said.
“Thing is why? Why would you shoot Carter five years later?” Murder asked rhetorically. He snapped his fingers as if a bright idea had just hit him. “Unless you’re in it for self. I recognize that look in your eye homeboy. That’s a murder mama spell li’l nigga. You fell in love with my bitch, that’s why you cut me out. Once Carter was dead you was going to move in on her yourself.”
“Nah, it ain’t like that,” Fly Boogie lied.
“It’s exactly like that,” Murder answered. He hit his blunt and chuckled as the smoke blew from his lips. “That’s a baaad bitch. She does something to a nigga,” he said. “She almost killed me and I’m still running back to that pussy. She’s like a drug.”
“Now what? You gone kill me?” Fly Boogie asked. “Might as well quit playing games and get this shit over with.” He was fearless. He had heart. Despite the treachery, Murder still liked him.
“Nah, you gon’ finish what you started. Murder Carter. Then I’ma get my bitch back you gon’ shake this school boy crush you got going and we gon’ take over The Cartel and the casino,” Murder said. “From what I understand it all belongs to Miamor now anyway. It’s her kingdom now and once I get her from under the nigga Carter she will come back to daddy. I’m her beginning. I taught her everything she knows. I’m home. A bitch always comes back home . . .”
To be continued . . .
