by Ashley
“Mia, I fucked up. Let me talk to you ma. Let me . . .”
“Talk to her,” Miamor said. It was like the sun had fallen out of the sky and the world had come to an end. “I’m done,” she whispered. Carter swiped his face with his hands. Her hurt was hurting him. He wanted to say something to make her stay, but even he was lost. How could he defend what he didn’t understand. He loved her. He loved every single thing about her. How had he fucked this up so badly?
Before he could respond she was gone and he was across the room in a flash, knocking over the lamp because he could barely keep his bearings.
“Carter I’m . . .”
Before Yasmine could even get the words out of her mouth Carter wrapped his hand around her throat, pressing her into the wall. It was like his rage gave him strength as he held her thin body in place. He wanted to choke the life out of her, but he knew that this wasn’t her fault. He had done this. If he hadn’t wanted to sleep with her it never would have happened. No one had forced him into this situation. Somewhere deep down he had allowed her to get into his head. His attraction, their flirtation, their deception was the gasoline that fed the fire. It had started years ago between them in Saudi. He should have stopped it then. He had made this bed, now he had to lay in it. He released her and then punched the wall beside her head. “Just get out,” he whispered. He lowered his head in disgrace. He had been at a crossroads with Miamor before but never over another woman. He knew her well enough to realize that this was one transgression that she would never forget.
Miamor’s tears blinded her to the point where she stumbled through the casino as she made her way to the front door. She was distraught and a snotty mess as people turned to look at her. She was a walking spectacle. No one had ever seen her so torn apart. Something had permanently broken inside of her as soon as she saw Carter inside of another woman. She had given him too much of herself, holding nothing back and trusting him to take care of her psyche. Now that he had dropped the ball she had nothing reserved for herself . . . no strength . . . no faith . . . no love. Carter had taken it all. Selfish ass nigga! I hate him, I hate him. I will never forgive him for this, she thought.
Her heart was raw and she clenched her chest wishing that the pain would ease. It felt like someone was pouring alcohol over a bleeding wound.
“Miamor!”
She heard Breeze call her name. “Mia! Oh my God! What the hell happened? What’s wrong?” she asked.
Miamor gasped as she tried to tell her but she couldn’t even speak the words. She was weak and the trauma too great. She didn’t even want to hear the words fall out of her mouth.
“Miamor!” When she heard Carter’s voice she shook her head and broke away from Breeze. She rushed through the crowd and out of the door. Fly Boogie was the first person she saw. He was pulling up to the hotel and like always, he was right there whenever she needed him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in confusion as she rushed into his arms.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” she said. “Get me away from him.”
Fly Boogie nodded as he opened the passenger door for her and tucked her safely inside. Just as he got inside himself, Carter and Breeze emerged from the hotel.
“Miamor!” Carter roared. She didn’t even look at him as Fly Boogie pulled away.
“Aries bring me my son!” Miamor screamed into the phone.
“I can’t Mia,” Aries replied. “Carter’s here and he won’t let me take him anywhere. He’s afraid you’re going to disappear on him again and take CJ with you. Are you okay?”
“Tell him I will murder him in his fucking sleep if he doesn’t deliver my son to me!” Miamor’s rage was real and all she wanted was to see her baby boy. She knew that his love would be like a dressing to a wound. He could stop the bleeding of her heart.
“Come home ma . . .”
Carter’s voice filled the phone as he intervened on their conversation. She could hear his worry and regret in his tone. Miamor instantly hung up in his face. She knew that if she listened to him for too long she would become dumb to the truth. She wanted him to justify his actions and she would become one of those women who believed bullshit and accepted disrespect. No, she couldn’t talk to him. Ever. Her legs gave out as she collapsed to the floor, sitting in her own misery with her head buried in her hands.
Fly Boogie swiped his face, unsure of what to do. She hadn’t eaten or slept in two days. She just cried. She was the most official chick he had ever met and with the negligence of one man she was now broken. Carter had mishandled her. Fly Boogie walked over to her and scraped her off of the floor as he carried her across the hotel room. He had checked her into a room under his name because she knew that if she used her own, Carter would find her. Normally, Miamor would never let anyone see her so weak, but she couldn’t help it. Life felt over. It would be less painful to put a bullet in her brain and call it a wrap. She was thankful for her son, because had it not been for his existence she was sure she would have done so by now. Murderous thoughts, suicidal thoughts . . . plagued her. She was a woman who had been hurt by a man. Fly Boogie laid her across the bed and turned to leave the room.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
Fly Boogie nodded. “I’m right here. I’m not moving until you move ma. You can lay here and cry that shit out until your system is dry, but if you trust me and you take a ride with me . . . I think I know something that will make you feel better.”
“I can’t,” she whispered as she lay, face stuck to the comforter while she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Well when you’re ready, I’m here. Try to rest,” he replied.
Miamor was grateful for his presence. Having him with her, so loyal, and accommodating didn’t take the hurt away but it did help.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG! BANG!
BANG!
“I told you to trust me. Every time you’re feeling a type of way you go to the range,” Fly Boogie stated.
“How do you know that?” she asked, shocked.
“I’ve been with you for five years ma. A nigga notices you,” he replied with a wink. She gave him a small smile as she re-aimed her gun.
BANG!
BANG!
His effort was sweet but not even the sound of Miamor’s gun relieved her stress. This time her burden was too great. Shooting practice wasn’t enough to make her forget her problems. She had a fetish for murder and right now she wanted to body something.
“You’re like a surgeon with the burner ma,” Fly Boogie stated as he leaned against his Range Rover, one foot propped up on the fender. There was no one around for miles. The only thing around them was mountains and desert air.
She flipped her hair out of her face and sighed. “This isn’t helping,” she replied. “I just feel like dying. How did this happen?” Her voice was a whisper. A rhetorical question that not even she could answer.
Fly Boogie was silent as she fisted both hands through her hair and closed her eyes as she fought back tears. Carter had blown up her phone all night, along with Breeze, Aries, and Leena. They all had been trying to reach her. Although she didn’t want to be available for anyone, she knew that she couldn’t hide forever. She had a child. It was only a matter of time before natural instincts would lure her home. She felt like she was losing her mind. Her mood was up and down. Her stomach was constantly queasy. She had to get her mind off of Carter. He was all that she could think about. She walked up to Fly Boogie and kissed him out of the blue, melting into him as she pushed him against the hood of his car. She had caught him off guard, but he didn’t resist. He grabbed her ass roughly and then picked her up as she wrapped her legs around him. He was the perfect distraction. He was fly, young, and living the thug life. After doubting herself, wondering what she lacked, or what Yasmine had that she didn’t, it felt good to have a man want only her. His kiss melted her as their tongues danced slowly, passionately. It surprised her when he pulled back. With her still in his arms
he whispered, “Damn ma, I could love the shit out of you if you would just let me.” He placed her back on her feet and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You’re only doing this to get back at your man. I think its time I took you home.” He was so honorable, so thorough, and in that moment she knew that if it hadn’t been for her fated romance with Carter, she probably would be Fly Boogie’s girl.
“I would think that you would enjoy this,” she said. “He fucked up. You’re feeling me. Isn’t this when most niggas make their move?”
“Lame niggas,” Fly Boogie responded. Despite the fact that her body felt so good against him, he moved as he hit the unlock button on his keys. “Anything you do right now is out of character. This is all about him. I would be playing myself if I jumped on you. I can see the hurt in your eyes Miamor. I’m the last nigga you got to worry about taking advantage. I’ma get my shot at you ma, but this ain’t it.”
Miamor smiled, slightly embarrassed as she walked up to him once more. She kissed his cheek. “This kiss you earned.” She blew out an exasperated breath and shook her head to try and gain some clarity. “I have to go home,” she whispered. “I need to get my son and pack some things. I’m not beat for this Vegas shit. He wanted this life. I’m going back to Miami.”
“Nah ma. I’ll take you home but you pack up his shit. You built all of this out here. We all followed you out here. The Cartel of Miami belonged to Carter, but The Cartel of Las Vegas belongs to you. You got a gang of niggas that’ll ride on your command,” Fly said. He opened the passenger door for Miamor. He had given her something to think about and as she climbed inside the car, plots of revenge flooded her brain. Hurting the one who had hurt her sounded like poetic justice and she knew that the only way to get to Carter would be to take what he treasured most. She was going to hit his pockets, his empire, take his throne . . . she wanted it all . . . not because she needed it, but because he wanted it too much. He wasn’t afraid of her gangster and she didn’t know if she could ever hate him enough to handle him the ‘murder mama’ way. She couldn’t intimidate him with her reputation, but she could handle him like a wife scorned. She would divorce him and take everything, including the Cartel. He wouldn’t be expecting her to play hardball and by the time he realized what was happening, it would already be done. She was going to take him to the cleaners and while she was at it, she would send Yasmine straight to hell.
Chapter 23
“I think I just started another war.”
—Miamor
Three Months Later
“Dig deeper,” Miamor stated coldly as she stood over the two burly men that were unearthing the desert soil. Their shovels clanged loudly against the earth as their grunts filled the air. “It can’t be shallow. We don’t want any mangy coyotes coming along and digging the body up.” Miamor was livid and her heart pumped violently as her emotions went haywire. Her Cavalli sunglasses masked her watery eyes as she thought of the motivation behind her actions. She had murdered many times before. Fuck it. It was nothing for her to go boom on a nigga. She was in the business of extinction, but when business became personal it always played a tug of war with her mental.
Her judgment hadn’t been this clouded since she had lost her sister at the hands of Mecca. She had promised herself that she would never let her emotions get so tangled again, but yet here she was . . . devastated . . . heartbroken . . . confused all over again. She should have been taking her aggression out on the root of the problem. Her man. Carter ‘muthafuckin’ Jones. He was the perpetrator to the crimes that had been committed against her heart. It was he who deserved to be buried in this shallow grave but instead it was his pretty little mistress who was in her crosshairs. Miamor saw red when the blacked out SUV pulled up a few yards away, because she knew who was hidden inside. They were in the middle of nowhere . . . Thirty miles into the Mojave on uncharted land. It was an unofficial graveyard. Many a mobster had held court in these deserted lands. There was no telling how many bones were buried beneath the hot sands. Miamor was about to host a funeral and the guest of honor was a Persian bitch named Yasmine.
The most dangerous thing in the world was a woman scorned, but a Miamor scorned was deadly. No one had seen the kind of damage that Miamor could do. She hadn’t had to deal with groupies in Miami. Carter had always walked a straight line. Their love story had been so complicated that he hadn’t found the time to entertain anyone but her. Even during her absence from his life he had remained true, but Yasmine . . . Yasmine had distracted him. She had seduced Miamor’s man and there was a price to pay for that. The bitch clearly doesn’t know who she’s fucking with, Miamor thought, her temperature rising as she stalked across the desert. She was heated . . . not from the sun that blazed down on her, but from the hatred that burned in her heart. As an unsuspecting Yasmine climbed from the backseat of the car, Miamor approached.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Yasmine asked.
Miamor was feminine as ever in designer clothes and five-inch heels. She hadn’t anticipated getting too dirty. She had men who followed orders at her discretion now. When she wanted someone to bleed, it never dripped on her shoes now. But this bitch Yasmine was a bit too pretty for her tastes. The smug, entitled, expression she wore irked Miamor to the point where she couldn’t stop herself from slapping the taste out of her mouth. Before she could stop herself she struck her violently and muscled her to the ground. Miamor’s vice grip on Yasmine’s jet black hair caused the girl to scream in alarm as she tried to tear Miamor’s hand from her scalp. Sweat started to form on Miamor’s forehead as she spoke through gritted teeth. “There are plenty of men in Vegas. You should have chosen somebody else’s,” she said. She didn’t even care about getting her hands dirty anymore. When her temper flared it took nothing less than murder to calm her down. She was on ten, it was too late to be rational now. She pulled Yasmine through the desert, destroying along the way, the all white dress that the girl wore.
“Agh!!” she screamed as she clawed at Miamor’s wrist while kicking her legs violently as she tried to break free.
Miamor mustered strength that she didn’t even know she had and she didn’t stop until she had pulled her from the car to the hole that was now complete.
As soon as Yasmine laid eyes on the ditch, terror filled her. She turned to Miamor. “Do you know who I am? You can not get away with this!”
Miamor smirked as she shook her head incredulously. “I know exactly who you are. You’re nobody. You live off of your daddy’s name to get by. You think because you’re a pampered little bitch from Saudi that you can do whatever you want, but you made one mistake. You didn’t know who you were offending. You didn’t check my resume. You see me in the casino in my fancy clothes, prancing around as Carter’s arm accessory and you got me confused. You thought I was just a wife . . . just a mother perhaps? You didn’t do your homework. Should have checked my resume.”
“Please! You can have Carter . . .” the girl began to plead.
“Bitch I already have Carter. There ain’t a woman alive that can take Carter away from me. I own that nigga. That’s my dick, my houses, my cars, my everything.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t even look at him. I swear to you,” Yasmine pleaded as she held her hands out in front of her. “Just let me go. This isn’t necessary.”
“You fucked my nigga. This is very necessary. I hope it was good,” Miamor said. Suddenly she snatched one of the shovels from her bodyguard’s hands and swung it full force, hitting Yasmine in the side of the face. She fell to the ground as blood poured from her ear. Miamor’s rampage exploded as she hit her repeatedly, again and again and again and again. She showed no mercy as she took her frustrations out. Miamor knew that ultimately it was Carter’s fault for sleeping with Yasmine. She wasn’t married to Yasmine. Yasmine owed her nothing, but the fact that she was so smug about it had earned her this fate. Miamor didn’t care that she was literally beating the life out of the girl. Yasmine’s efforts to block the blows were fu
tile. There was no protecting herself from this ruthless assault and as the excruciating beating continued she could do nothing but pray. Miamor’s chest heaved as she felt her clothes begin to stick to her skin. She held the shovel high above her head as she prepared to bring it down once more, but the sniffling, bloody, mess of a woman before her was no longer worth the effort. This beating wasn’t making her feel any better. It didn’t dull the pain that plagued her. She was still aching inside. The unbearable emotion haunted her, making it hard for her to breathe. Tears clouded her vision as she tossed the shovel to the ground. “Should have never crossed me,” she said. She turned to her men. “Put the bitch in a box and bury her while she’s still breathing. Leave a little air hole for her. I want it to be slow. Let her feel every single moment of what’s left of her miserable life.” Miamor left two of her men behind to clean up her mess as she headed back to the car with her driver. She had a meeting to attend. Yasmine was only the first to be punished. Carter would feel her wrath as well. As she climbed into the back of the car she knew that no matter what fate she delivered to him . . . she would always suffer behind his betrayal. Nothing she could do to him would ever make this right because even when she hated him . . . she loved him.
Carter was a man of little patience and as he checked the presidential that occupied his wrist he had to contain his anger. Tardiness was a sign of disrespect and Carter clenched his jaw as he folded his hands, placing them on the conference table in front of him. He was all business as he sat with a stern expression. The tailored Tom Ford suit he wore proved that he had graduated from the streets. He was no longer chasing hood fame; he was chasing them M’s . . . the legal way. Owner of The Davinci, Las Vegas’ newest resort and casino, he was a man with little free time. He had no hours in the day to waste. Miamor knew that. She had been by his side for so long that he already knew that her late arrival to their meeting was intentional. She was purposefully showing him that no matter how large he became, she would always run the show. He had given her the throne beside his. She was his queen and because of that he was on her time, like it or not. Carter leaned into the attorney that sat to his right. “We need to wrap this up.”
