by Ashley
Miamor was sobbing so hard that she could not form the words to respond. Carter kissed the back of her neck. “I don’t want to see you cry, ma,” he whispered. “I know you love me, Miamor, but you refuse to let me all the way in. Trust me. Let me protect you. Let me see all of you.”
“You won’t like what you see,” Miamor admitted with sorrow in her tone.
Carter’s lips made their way south as he kissed from the back of her neck to her shoulders, to her back, and further on. He parted her legs and slipped his tongue between her thighs.
The intense pleasure temporarily erased her pain as a sigh escaped from her lips. “You don’t really know me,” Miamor moaned as she allowed him to kiss her inner thigh. She could see the top of his head as he slowly traced the creases of her vagina with his tongue.
“Teach me,” he responded. He pulled her southern lips apart, revealing her pearl. “Trust me,” he said as he took it into his mouth, causing Miamor to squirm underneath him. “Marry me,” he whispered as his tongue made love to her clit, plucking it like a delicate flower.
The heat from his mouth drove her crazy, and her eyelids closed in ecstasy. Her love for this man was so deep, that from the very first time she saw him, she knew he was her Achilles heel. He was one of the few people who had actually ever gotten her to feel. She experienced emotions with him that she never knew existed. He had found her and nursed her back to health. He loved her despite her appearance, but she was not sure that he would accept her once he found out who she really was. Her soul rained as teardrops graced her cheeks. Her cry was inaudible, but her heart was bleeding for the love that she needed, but she knew that it was one she could never have.
Carter worked her over until she came in his mouth. Her love came down like a waterfall, and Carter licked her clean, sucking her clit until her legs shook in satisfaction. He arose silently and walked into the bathroom and drew her a bath.
The feelings he had for Miamor made him weak, but it was a weakness that he embraced. She made him a better man, and no matter what she said, she would always belong to him. He wasn’t taking “no” for an answer. He was so torn up about what had happened to her. He blamed himself every day. He just wanted to make her happy. After everything he had lost in the war with the Haitians, she was all he had left. As he sat on the side of the tub and watched it fill with water, he felt himself becoming emotional. I let this happen to her, he thought.
He felt her arms envelop him, and he looked up to see her standing there. Her health had come a long way since the day he had found her close to dead in the hospital, but she still needed to rest. He knew that it had taken a lot out of her to come and check on him. As he looked up into her eyes, he saw the woman his heart was meant for. She was a fighter, but he didn’t want her to have to endure anymore anguish. He had to be strong for her. He quickly restored his composure and pulled her down onto his lap.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he whispered, his words stopping in his throat.
Hearing the stress in his voice caused Miamor to close her eyes in torment. I have to tell him. I can’t let him think that he did this to me. I can’t hurt him like this. He thinks he loves me, but he doesn’t even know the real me. I’m the reason why everyone he loves is dead. I can’t marry him. There is no way that we can ever be together, she thought dismally. Even if she agreed to marry Carter, in her heart of hearts, she knew that it would never happen. Their wedding would turn into somebody’s funeral, because he was sure to find out about her affiliation with the Murder Mamas and her role in Taryn and Breeze’s misfortunes. She also did not trust herself, because as soon as she crossed Mecca’s path, she knew that she would get it popping.
I am not the housewife type. If you really love him, then you will let him go, she told herself over and over. Miamor had to convince herself that their love affair was over just to stop herself from yearning for his touch. Carter was like a drug to her. She had become addicted to his swagger; the way he walked; the way he talked; the unspoken boss status that he possessed’ the way he smiled . . . all of it endeared her to him. She was willing to settle down, willing to be faithful, willing to trust him. She was ready, but she had to walk away. Out of everything she had been through, leaving Carter would undoubtedly be the hardest thing she ever had to do. I don’t have a choice, she told herself. She hoped that Carter would remember them for what they were to each other before all of the shit had been thrown into the game. He would always hold a special place in her heart. Miamor wiped away a tear as she closed her eyes.
“Carter, I have to tell you something,” she uttered as she massaged the back of his head gently. Knowing that it would be the last time she would ever touch him, she took her time and stared him in his eyes. “I’m not who you—”
Before Miamor could get the words out of her mouth, Carter’s lips covered hers. He kissed her passionately as he removed the hotel robe she was wearing. He didn’t want to make love to her. She was still too weak for that. He just wanted to take care of his queen, to nurture his woman, to sit back and spend time with his future wife. He removed his Calvin Klein boxers and pulled her gently into the tub.
“Carter, I really need to tell you this—”
“Shh!” his lips never left hers as he silenced her. “If you’re not saying “yes”, then I don’t want to hear it. Will you marry me?” he asked.
A lump formed in Miamor’s throat. How could she tell him no? She nodded her head and gave him a weak smile. “Yes,” she answered, but as soon the words left her mouth, she knew that she had made a mistake. In the morning . . . I’ll tell him tomorrow, she told herself.
* * *
The next morning, Carter awoke to find Miamor staring at him. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying all night as she watched him sleep.
“What’s wrong, ma? Everything a’ight?” he asked as the palm of his hand graced her face. “Are you in pain?”
“More than you can even understand,” she admitted.
“I’ma take all of that away, Mia,” he said. “We’re moving to Phoenix. I’ve already begun making the arrangements. In a week, we’ll be miles away from Miami.”
Miamor put her finger to his lips. “Carter, I need to tell you something. There is something that I need to get off my chest. It’s important.”
Carter frowned. He could see the worried look in her eyes. There was something heavy on her mind, and he wanted her to know that she could tell him anything. “Just say it, Miamor. You can talk to me.”
“First, I want you to know that everything I feel for you is real. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever known. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in the world. You mean everything to me, Carter, but I can’t accept this ring,” she said as she removed it from her finger.
“Don’t do this, Miamor,” he said. “Don’t shut me out.”
Miamor stood up and paced the room, her wobbly legs barely able to keep her up. Just tell him, she urged herself. “Carter, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know. I’ve been lying to you—never about how I feel—but all along, you never knew who I really was. Ma’tee paid me and my girls to get at The Cartel!”
Carter sat up in the bed and his eyes instantly turned cold. He stood and put his hands on the wall as he lowered his head and absorbed her words.
“I belong to a group called the Murder Mamas. We’ve hit niggas from New York to the South. Ma’tee paid us to come at Mecca, but he ended up killing my sister, Anisa. I’ve been at him ever since, but he got to me first. He beat the shit out of me. All these cuts and bruises came from him, all because he knew who I was. He gave me a poisoned drink at your sister’s memorial, but I gave it to Taryn. I knew the drink Mecca had given me had something in it, and I gave it to her anyway. I was willing to do anything to get back at Mecca for taking my sister away. When I first met you, I didn’t know you were a part of The Cartel!” Miamor cried.
Carter was calm, as he used the wall for support. He was too c
alm for what she was telling him, and she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she still continued her confession.
“Carter, you have to believe me. If I had known that you were a part of it, I would have never fucked with you. I came to your brother’s funeral to kill Mecca. That’s when I found out who you were, but by then, it was too late. I had already fallen for you. I love you Carter, but there is something wrong with me inside. Killing is all I know. I’ve been doing it since I was twelve years old. You don’t know me! I’m a bitch! I’m a Murder Mama! I’m heartless and cold! I’m all of these things, except when I’m with you. You are the only person in my entire life who has ever taken my pain away!”
Carter clenched his teeth as he listened to Miamor’s story. The realization of who she really was hit him like a ton of bricks. The thousand lies that she had told him were a slap in the face. It was all too much for him to even comprehend. He could feel his anger rising as he thought of how he had trusted her. He had made the mistake of letting her get close. All this time, he had been sleeping with the enemy. She had been plotting on him while he had been investing his time and commitment into her. She had played him. He thought of the day he had seen her at Monroe’s funeral, and then the faces of his deceased loved ones popped into his mind. She had contributed to the madness, and he had allowed her to. Everything had gone down right underneath his nose. Mecca had tried to warn him about her treachery, but Carter had refused to see. That’s why he hates her so much! he thought.
Miamor walked over to Young Carter. His silence was killing her. “Please, say something!” she begged.
Carter didn’t even feel himself react until it was too late.
Smack!
His rage took over, and he slapped her with such force that it sent her flying to the ground. She instantly tasted the salty blood that oozed from her busted lip.
Carter stormed over to the nightstand where he had stored his gun. Miamor’s eyes grew large when she saw him approach her with it in his hands. He loaded the clip and cocked it back, then knelt down over her. With tears in his eyes, he grabbed her hand forcefully. “Take the gun, bitch!” he mumbled through clenched teeth as he held the barrel up to his chest while she gripped the handle. “You wanted to get back at The Cartel that bad? Do you know how many innocent people you’ve hurt? Pull the trigger, Miamor. I am The Cartel! Now is your chance!”
Miamor lay beneath Carter with the gun in her shaky hands. “Carter, don’t do this!” she beseeched.
“Kill me, you grimy bitch! This is what you wanted. I told you I’d give you anything. You wanted this, so I’m giving it to you.” Carter was so livid that he was foaming at the mouth, and his grip was so tight on her hand that it felt like her bones would crush from the pressure.
Miamor had never let anybody test her or even speak to her in such a way. Carter was pulling her card, and her murderous instincts clicked back in slightly as she glared into his eyes. He was challenging her, calling her bluff, daring her to shoot him. This mu’fucka must not know, she thought as her nostrils flared. Miamor was like a pit bull. When she was docile, she was one of the most loyal and gentle creatures in the world. But when provoked, something inside of her snapped, and once she clicked on, it was very hard to turn her off.
Miamor’s finger wrapped around the trigger, but when she looked into the eyes of the man she loved, she could not bring herself to finish what she had started. Too many things had changed. Her heart wasn’t as cold as it used to be. “I can’t!” she wept. “I can’t!”
Carter snatched the gun from her and put it to her head, pressing it point blank range as his finger danced on the hair trigger. Hatred and betrayal was in the air as he contemplated ending her life. She had peeled away at his outer layers, the same way that he had done to her. They had penetrated each other’s souls, which is why her treachery stung so much. He knew that he should kill her. She deserved to die, but not at his hands. He threw the gun across the room as he arose to his feet. “Get the fuck out,” he said calmly, but Miamor didn’t move. Instead, she rolled onto her side as she cried. She was paralyzed in her grief.
“I’m sorry!” she screamed.
“Bitch, get out!” Carter repeated. His voice roared throughout the suite, and he showed no mercy as he dragged Miamor across the hotel room floor, disregarding her already injured body.
“Carter, no! Please!” she yelled as she fought him. She was fighting to stay in his life. With all of the energy she had left, she was clinging to him because she knew that once she let go he would no longer be hers.
By the time he got her out of the suite, he was sweating and out of breath and she was curled up in the hallway. “What am I going to do?” she cried while looking up into his face.
He showed no emotion, no sympathy, no love as he turned on his heels and re-entered the room. He snatched her phone up then tossed it into the hallway beside her. “I don’t give a fuck what you do, Miamor,” he said, the tone of his voice revealing his disappointment. “I’m done. You have got five minutes to call a cab. If you’re not gone by then, I’m going to finish this, and unlike you, I will be able to pull the trigger,” he threatened. He took one last look at her and shook his head in disgust.
She could see the hatred in his eyes. There was nothing left to say. It was over, and he had tossed her out with nothing. He slammed the door in her face, closing the best chapter of her life.
Chapter Eighteen
The Cartel
Miamor had never felt so low as she sat in the hallway of the luxury hotel, pleading with Carter to forgive her. Her ego and principles were thrown out of the window. When it came to matters of the heart, she was willing to look foolish and willing to swallow her pride if it meant that Carter would be with her. She cried her heart out to him through the closed door, but it never opened. He had shut her out of his life, and she had to accept it. She was physically and emotionally spent as she stood to her feet. Using the wall to hold her up, she made her way to the elevator. Her hair was wild, her face stained with dried tears, and she wore nothing but a bathrobe as she made her way out of the hotel. Stares and whispers surrounded her as her bare feet carried her through the lobby.
“Excuse me, Miss,” the maître d’hôtel of the establishment rushed over to her with two security guards in tow. “I received a call from the Presidential Suite. I’m going to have to escort you off of the premises.”
The security guards grabbed her arms and she snatched them away. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed, making an even bigger scene. She made it outside and walked as far as her feet would take her, but every step felt like a thousand. She was too fragile to make it on her own. She had exhausted all of her energy, and gave up as she fell to the ground to catch her breath, the hot pavement burning her skin. At this point, she felt hopeless. She had given up everything and had betrayed her girls trying to chase a dream. At least before she had them as her family. Now, all she had was herself.
Murder had sat in the car all night watching the hotel, waiting to see Miamor and Carter emerge. He was so close to her, and he wasn’t going anywhere until he brought her home, back to New York where she belonged. He cringed at the way Carter touched Miamor, and jealousy loomed over him like a dark cloud.
When he finally saw Miamor emerge from the hotel alone, struggling, and barefoot, he grabbed his gun and jumped out of the car and ran toward her. His baggy khaki shorts, white T-shirt and red fitted cap represented the complete opposite of what Carter’s poised demeanor did, but the two men had one thing in common. They both loved Miamor.
“Miamor!” he yelled, grabbing her attention.
Miamor didn’t even look in his direction. She heard a man screaming her name and instantly thought of Mecca. She looked around for something to defend herself with, but she could barely scrape herself off of the ground. She frantically tried to hide, but there was nowhere to go. Traumatized and too tired to put up a fight, she screamed when Murder finally reached her. It wasn’t until he pi
cked her up off the ground did she realize that she wasn’t in danger.
“It’s okay, ma. Murder’s back. I’m gonna handle that nigga and anybody associated with him,” he sneered. “Word to my mutha’, ma. I’ma cook that beef personally!
Miamor thought that her eyes were deceiving her. “Murder?” she called out as she touched his face.
“It’s me, shorty. I got you.”
Relief washed over Miamor and she gave into her body’s urge to rest. She closed her eyes, knowing that she was in the arms of family, and that nothing would happen to her while he was around. It had been five long years since she had felt that safe. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she had felt the secure connection with Murder. But now that she had seen his face again, she realized he was still so prevalent in her life. Even with Carter, there was the constant threat of danger, but with Murder, there were no secrets. No lies dwelled between them. There was only trust.
Murder took Miamor back to the motel room where Robyn and Aries were waiting. It was a far cry from the Four Seasons, but it was how he got down. Murder was not into the glamorous life. He wasn’t a flashy type a nigga. He was a ’hood nigga and a goon who had established his track record in the ’hood from the sandbox up. He didn’t need all the extras. He actually found the entire Cartel establishment to be a joke. Those clown-ass niggas on that Hollywood Godfather shit, he thought as he put Miamor down and stared at her. That Rico Suave-ass nigga don’t know how to keep a bitch like Miamor. Shorty a gangsta, not some high society broad.
“What happened to she?” Aries asked as she and Robyn rushed to Miamor’s side and observed their dear friend.
