The Cartel Deluxe Edition

by Ashley

  Miamor felt so right in his arms, and she hated what she was doing. She knew that she would eventually have to destroy him, but being with him right now at that very moment was the only thing that she wanted to think about.

  “I’ll never hurt you again, ever. On everything I love, I’ma make you mine. I love you, Miamor.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from responding, “I love you too.”

  Ring, ring!

  Ring, ring!

  The shrill sound of Carter’s cell phone woke him and Miamor out of their peaceful sleep. He looked at her digital alarm clock, which read 3:42 A.M. He groggily reached for his phone. “Hello?” he answered as he sat up in bed.

  “Carter! Thank God! It’s Breeze,” Taryn stated in a panic. “She hasn’t come home yet.”

  “What?”

  Miamor sat up when she heard Carter’s tone of voice. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Carter held up a finger for her to hold on and returned his attention back to his phone call. “Look, if she was with Zyir, I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call you when I catch up with them. Give me about an hour,” he said.

  Carter knew that Breeze should have been safe with Zyir, but when he called his phone and didn’t receive an answer, he began to worry.

  “I got to go, ma,” he said as he jumped up and began slipping into his clothes.

  Miamor’s face expressed her disappointment, and under normal circumstances, he would’ve handled her later, but he had just gotten back into her good graces.

  “Slip on some clothes. You’re coming with me,” he said.

  She jumped up, and in five minutes flat they were out the door.

  Carter pulled up to Ace and Zyir’s apartment at 4:15 A.M. and was relieved to see Breeze’s car sitting out front. He still needed to see her face to make sure she was okay. What in the fuck is she doing over here anyway? he thought to himself. He rushed up to apartment 8B and rang the bell.

  Ace answered it. “Damn, fam! Whatever it is, it can’t wait until the morning?” he asked sleepily.

  “Where’s Zy?”

  “Fam is in his room. He’s been in there all night with the door closed. Why? What up?” Miamor stood silently as she watched anger cross Carter’s face.

  “Is Breeze in there with him?”

  “I don’t know, fam.”

  Carter walked to the back of the apartment and opened Zyir’s room door without knocking. He took a deep breath when he saw his baby sister sleeping soundly in Zyir’s bed, with Zyir sleeping in the chair next to the bed, his feet propped up. They both had Dope Fiend, by Donald Goines, in their hands and had fallen asleep with the book still open.

  Carter laughed at himself for thinking the worst. Zyir would never put his sister in danger or disrespect him by hitting and running on her. If Breeze was interested in Zyir, it was a bridge that he would cross when they all got there, but for now, she was safe and he was satisfied.

  “Everything good?” Ace asked.

  Carter nodded. “Yeah, fam, everything’s good. I’m tripping. We gon’ crash on your couch out here until morning, a’ight.”

  “Yeah, bro, make yourself at home. You know where everything at.”

  Carter placed a call to Taryn and informed her that Breeze was just fine.

  “Are you all right?” Miamor asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s get some sleep,” he said as he pulled her near and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “The coke connect died with my grandson. . . . Now get the fuck out.”

  —Emilio Estes

  “I got you, young’un. I’m about to go and talk to Estes and try to plug you in. The game is all yours now,” Polo said just before hanging up the phone with Young Carter. He was just about to have a meeting with Estes. He wanted to see if he could set up a meeting with him and Carter, so he could retire and move to LA. He was done with the seesaw game that treated him both good and bad.

  He pulled up to the loading dock’s parking lot and smoothly got out, wearing a straw sun hat, and a toothpick sticking from his mouth. He saw that Estes and his henchmen had already arrived before him, just like he expected. He slowly approached the Dominican men, who stood on the boardwalk that led to Estes’ speedboat. He raised both of his arms without them having to instruct him. He knew the drill only too well.

  After getting searched, he boarded the boat and saw Estes at the head of the bow, his back turned, smoking a Cuban cigar.

  “Good evening, Estes,” Polo said loudly as he stuck his hands in his white linen pants.

  Estes signaled for his henchmen to pick up the anchor so that he could take off.

  “Polo,” Estes said, not even giving him the respect of looking him in the eyes. Estes started the boat and pulled off.

  Polo sat in the seat uncomfortably and wondered where Estes was taking him. He slightly moved his hat off his head, but not all the way off. He didn’t want the small .22-caliber pistol he had under the hat to fall.

  After a ten-minute ride, Estes finally stopped the boat, and all they could see was water. There was no sign of anything else but the royal blue Atlantic Ocean.

  Estes turned to Polo and took a deep puff of his cigar. “You wanted to talk, right? Talk,” he said coldly.

  “First, we need to get at the—”

  “That’s already taken care of. The entire Haitian mob is dead. There will be no more bloodshed. The only one left is Ma’tee, but we cut his legs from under him. He has no money or no army, and most likely Miami won’t see him again.”

  Polo was surprised at how quickly Estes moved. Estes was two steps ahead of him, managing to wipe out the whole Haitian mob with ease. He knew that Estes was the boss of all bosses, and it was another day at the job for him.

  Polo continued, “Yeah, I wanted to discuss a few things. You know, since Carter died, I’ve been the one you’ve supplied. The way I see it, I’m not getting any younger, and the game has changed. I’m trying to make an exit and give this game up for good.”

  “You’re a smart man.”

  “I really have faith in Young Carter, and I was wondering—”

  Estes raised his hand to stop him from talking. “Let me tell you something. I never liked you. Hell, I never liked Carter, but I gave him the connect because my daughter was in love with him, and I wanted him to be able to provide for her. So, you see, this is where it all stops. No more product for The Cartel. I want nothing to do with you people. The connect died with my grandson,” Estes said as he looked past Polo.

  Naturally Polo followed his eyes and saw that two boats were approaching. “Oh, so that’s how you gon’ play it, huh?” Polo asked in disbelief as he nodded his head repeatedly. He was ready to go for his gun, but he saw the two boats pull up, one on either side.

  Estes stood up and began to unzip his pants. He unleashed his small tanned penis and began to urinate on Polo’s shoes.

  Polo quickly moved his feet, and it took all of his willpower for him not to go for his gun and shoot Estes in the face. He felt totally disrespected, but he knew that he would only be committing suicide if he did that.

  One of the men picked up a small one-person rowboat and tossed it in the water.

  “Now get the fuck out,” Estes said calmly as he turned his back to Polo.

  Polo clenched his jaws so tightly, it began to hurt as he realized that Estes was going to make him row all the way back to shore. Swallowing his pride, Polo stepped onto the small boat, staring a hole through Estes the whole way down.

  One of the henchmen tossed Polo a paddle, and they all pulled off, leaving Polo alone in the middle of nowhere. Polo, his ego bruised beyond repair, knew at that moment it was time to leave the game alone. He was tired of everything that came with it. If that would have been five years ago, he would have gone out guns blazing for the stunt that Estes pulled. But Polo had matured and knew that he would’ve started a fight he could never win.

  Carter would have to find his own connect and s
tart from the ground up. In the meantime, Polo had some serious paddling to do.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Ain’t shit changed! You know the deal, so stop playing yourself.”

  —Miamor

  Miamor’s hands shook uncontrollably as she chopped the peppers and onions on the cutting board. She took a deep breath. Why am I so fucking nervous? she questioned silently as she worked swiftly, following the recipe book to a tee, trying to complete the meal she was preparing for Carter before he arrived at her house. Her eyes darted towards the clock. She didn’t have much time. She needed to be dressed and finished before he knocked on her door.

  She stuffed the smoked salmon with a lobster, portobello, and spice bake then put it into the oven. She prepared a special lemon sauce to drizzle over the top of it once it was done baking.

  Miamor didn’t know how she had gotten so deeply involved with Carter, but she was ready for it all to end. She wasn’t acting like herself, and the pressure that her girls were putting on her was becoming overwhelming. She knew that she had to make a move and do it quickly, but everything was so uncertain now. Miamor’s head was spinning.

  Carter had thrown shit in the game by going hard at Ma’tee. The entire Haitian operation had been disabled, and, Ma’tee, a man who she had thought was so untouchable, was now on the run for his life. She was frustrated and confused all at the same time. She felt like a trader. She wanted to kill Mecca for bringing the Grim Reaper to her sister’s door, but there were too many doubts. Too many variables had been added to the equation. An eye for eye did not seem as simple as it did before she met Carter. He was making her weak. With three little words, he’d changed who she was.

  Ding-dong! The ringing of her doorbell startled her.

  He can’t be here yet. It’s only eight o’clock. He’s not supposed to be here until nine.

  She quickly went to the mirror that was hanging near her entryway and scanned herself. She wasn’t even dressed. Carter had never seen her dressed so casually. She wore a wife-beater with baggy sweatpants, and her hair was pulled up in a raggedy ponytail. She tried to run her French tips through her hair to make herself look a little decent, but that was useless.

  She sighed deeply then opened the door slightly. “What are you doing here so early? I’m not even dressed yet, Carter.”

  “You look fine,” he replied as he leaned down to kiss her on her forehead. “You don’t have to dress all up. We’re staying in anyway. This is your house, so be comfortable.”

  “Comfortable is not the same as tore down,” she joked as she went back to the mirror.

  Carter walked up behind her and kissed the nape of her neck as he slid his strong arms around her waist. He looked at their reflection in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, ma. Stop tripping.”

  She smiled. Carter was considerate and always made her feel like she was worth more than she was, because in actuality, she felt like she wasn’t shit. He was caring, and she wasn’t. If she was, there would be no way that she could have put thallium sulfate in his dinner. She had made sure to put the odorless, tasteless powder in the lemon sauce that she planned on drizzling over his lobster. She was done bullshitting with The Cartel. She concluded that the timing would never be right for her to get at them, so tonight was just as good as any.

  Unfortunately for Carter, he would be the first to go. She really needed to kill him first because then she wouldn’t have him around all the time, making it difficult for her to stay focused.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked sweetly as she pulled out one of her dining room chairs and motioned for him to have a seat.

  “I don’t know. Is the food safe to eat?” he asked.

  His statement threw her off slightly.

  Does he know? “W—what?” she asked, her eyes penetrating his.

  “I mean, you know you ain’t the world’s best chef.” A smile appeared on his face.

  Miamor gave him a playful left jab to the chest. “You ain’t funny, nigga,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. Relax. He doesn’t know anything is up. Stop acting so damn guilty.

  Her silent demands caused her nerves to settle some, and she went to the oven and pulled out the lobster then fixed two plates of food.

  Her heart began to beat so loudly in her ears that she was sure that even Carter could hear it as she placed his dinner in front of him. She lit the candles on the table, poured them both a glass of wine, and then grabbed the lemon sauce. She poured it all over Carter’s lobster then took a seat.

  “This looks good, ma. Thank you for cooking for me. I know you said you didn’t like to cook. I appreciate you going through all of this trouble.”

  Miamor smiled and watched him intently as he took a sip out of his wine goblet.

  “I want to talk to you about something important,” Carter stated. He didn’t wait for Miamor to respond. “I’m into you, Miamor, but there are some things that you don’t know about me, or about my family.”

  I know all I need to know about your family. Miamor tried to conceal her hatred behind her eyes.

  “Tomorrow is not promised to me right now, ma. My family is at war with some very dangerous people, and I don’t ever want to put you in jeopardy. My father and little brother have already been murdered behind this beef. I’m willing to accept the fact that I could be next, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. It’s not safe for me to be with you, and believe me, it’s so hard for me to say this to you, but right now is not a good time for this, Miamor. I can’t bring you into my world right now. I would kill a nigga if he ever tried to hurt you. I love you, ma, but I’m no good for you. I have to let you go in order to keep you safe.”

  Miamor couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. It was like his words were medicine to her ailing heart. Her conscience immediately began to turn on her. How could she hurt a man who cared so much about her? She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

  Carter didn’t know it, but she was the safest bitch in the city because she would pop a nigga without regret for running up, but just the simple fact that he wanted to take the burden off of her shoulders and protect her himself touched her.

  Carter picked up his fork and brought it to his mouth. All she had to do was let him eat the food.

  I can’t, Miamor thought painfully. She stood and swept all of the food off the table in one dramatic motion. “Aghh!” she screamed in agony as she picked up a glass and threw it at the wall in frustration. The glass shattered into tiny pieces, reminding her of how her heart felt the day that she’d held her dead sister in her arms.

  “Whoa! Ma, what the fuck you doing, yo?” Carter moved toward her to restrain her temper tantrum.

  “I can’t do this.” She shook her head from side to side. The emotional levees in her gave way, and tears built in her eyes.

  “Miamor, calm down,” Carter said as he took her into his arms.

  “I can’t do it,” she cried as she breathed deeply, trying to contain herself.

  Miamor wanted to get back at The Cartel for taking her sister away, but how could she, when her heart and her mind was pulling her in two different directions?

  Why in the fuck did he have to tell me he loved me? Why did he have to make it so real?

  Her brain felt like it was going to explode. She was playing mental chess with herself. She wanted Carter to be her opponent so desperately so that she could follow the rules of the game and defeat him. She wanted to bag his queen, not be it. She yearned to kill his family, but her heart wouldn’t let her, and she was quickly beginning to realize that her only opponent, the only person standing in her way of her revenge, was herself. Her heart was following a completely different set of rules, rules that were unfamiliar to her. Her heart was begging her to open up and allow herself to feel happiness with a man. To trust a man, to believe in a man . . . her man, Carter Jones.

  The emotions that she felt for him were so foreign to Miamor that they scared her and caus
ed her to question her loyalty. In her world, hesitation never existed. There was no room for it. That was something that could get you murked in her profession. Murdering a nigga had always been simple. Some people were good at math, others good at sports, many good at singing or painting, but Miamor was good at death. When she declared war, she brought it to a nigga’s doorstep without fear, without doubt, but with swagger and expertise. Now her job seemed so complex, and she didn’t know what to do.

  How did I let him get this close? she asked herself.

  With her back to the wall, she used it for support and slid down until she felt the floor catch her. She pulled her knees into her chest, put her head down, and held herself as she cried.

  Carter hadn’t expected for her to take it this hard and was amazed at her reaction. He hated to see her in pain, but was oblivious to the real reason behind her outrage. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s getting herself into, Carter thought, when in actuality he was the one in unknown territory. He was dancing with the devil by allowing himself to love her.

  Carter picked her up and cradled her in his arms as she continued to cry. “Shh, it’s all right, ma. I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  As soon as he spoke the words he knew that he meant them. Dangerous or not, he could not stay away from Miamor. He had never felt a connection like the one he shared with the beautiful woman in his embrace. There was something about her, something that was so forbidden, it made him want her even more.

  * * *

  Miamor knocked on Robyn’s and Aries’ door early the next day. She wore Rock & Republic denims with a Lela Rose top and Christian Louboutin peep-toe pumps. Everything on her body was designer, and worth more than most people’s monthly rent, yet she still felt worthless. Her usually M•A•C-designed face was as bare as her soul, and her hair was pulled up into a sophisticated bun. She tried to appear as if she was in control, but her red, puffy eyes revealed the truth and gave away the fact that she had cried herself to sleep in Carter’s arms the night before.