by Ashley
Breeze stood to her feet and took a deep breath while still clenching her stomach. She was ashamed of what she was about to do, but she couldn’t help it. She had to shoot the magic into her veins immediately. She had to. She craved the warm sensation that the dope had when it crawled up her veins after injecting it. She kept thinking about how good it would make her feel, and that thought alone was almost orgasmic. She had spent the last fifteen minutes going back and forth, hoping that she would have enough willpower to fight the urge. However, when that monkey is on a person’s back, all logic goes out the window.
Breeze quickly rushed to Zyir’s room and began to search through his drawers, trying to find any money she could. She ran across a rubber band full of hundreds, and immediately clipped two of the crisp bills. She then rushed to the front room and grabbed Zyir’s car keys. She was out the door and on her way to the trap to cop a fix.
Breeze cruised the streets, searching for a dope boy to serve her a fix. She had on a jogging suit with house shoes on her feet as she pushed the new model Benz down the street. Before, she would never have been caught looking anything less than glamorous, but now it was a different story. She was no longer street royalty. She was just a junkie looking for a fix. She was a completely different person than she once was, and life had taken a toll on her.
She pulled onto a side street that was known for drug trafficking and parked her car. She noticed a group of young thugs posted on a stoop and waved one of them over. All eyes were on Breeze as she posted on the block and waited for the young hustler to approach her car. Breeze was fidgety and anxious as she tapped her wheel repeatedly, waiting for the guy to approach. “What’s up, ma?” the hustler asked as he bent his head down and licked his lips.
“What’s up? You got some ‘boy’?” Breeze asked, cutting straight to the point while clenching her stomach.
The young thug squinted his eyes and recognized Breeze when he looked closer. He couldn’t believe what she was asking him for. Here she was, the daughter of Carter Diamond, sister of the most ruthless gangster, and the dream girl for any dope boy that ever laid eyes on her, and she was looking to cop some dope from him. He instantly knew that she was craving dope from her body language.
“What?” he asked, thinking he had heard her wrong.
“You heard me. Do you got some or not?” she demanded again, but this time she pulled out a hundred dollar bill from her bra. The hustler couldn’t believe what she was asking, and he knew that her brother would not appreciate him serving Breeze, so he stepped back and shook his head.
Breeze smacked her lips and put up her middle finger as she began to look past him, searching for a willing hustler.
“You know I can’t do that. This is Mecca and Zyir’s territory, ma. You can’t do that,” he said, trying to put her up on game without getting disrespectful. He knew that the dope he had in his pocket came from The Cartel, and to give it to Breeze would be straight up violating.
“Nigga, fuck what you talking about? You just scared, that’s all,” Breeze said as she waved him off, dismissing him like a flunky. At that point, she bruised the young hustler’s ego, and it noticeably got to him.
“I’m not scared of yo’ peoples, believe that. I just ain’t for the bullshit that comes along with this,” he responded.
“Like I said, you scared,” Breeze said as she realized that her words were getting him upset. Breeze was smart enough to know that when a man’s ego is bruised, it’ll make him do things he usually would not do. In this case, he played right into Breeze’s hand.
“Look, ma, I ain’t scared of no damn body. I just-”
“You just a pussy,” Breeze interrupted as she waved the hundred dollar bill in the air. The hustler looked around and then reached into the car, snatching the money out of Breeze’s hand. He then dug into his pocket and pulled out two packs of dope and tossed it on her lap.
“There you go. Fuck it,” he said as he stood back up, feeling like a big man.
Breeze’s eyes went directly to her lap and on the packs. Her eyes lit up and her anxiety went into overdrive as she anticipated what was to happen next. She couldn’t wait to get back to Zyir’s house. She wanted to shoot up immediately.
“Yo, is it somewhere I can take my medicine?” Breeze asked as she turned off the car and looked at the hustler.
“Yeah, up there,” he said as he threw his head in the direction of the house behind him. “Just go through the back and then you can do your thing in there,” he said, feeling like a big man now that he had served her.
Before he could complete his sentence, Breeze was out of the car and headed to the back of the house. All of the hustlers looked at her as she passed as if she were crazy. They looked at her nice body and the jogging pants that hugged her petite behind.
Breeze went to the back of the house and entered. The foul smell of blood and body odor filled the air as Breeze made her way through the shooting gallery, a nickname junkies gave a residence where users went to shoot their dope. Breeze walked through the house and saw different people scattered throughout the studio-style place, all using their preferred drug.
She stepped over a man that was laid out on the floor in a deep nod and found a table that was in the far corner. She quickly sat down and pulled out her two packs. She reached into her purse and got a shooter, also known as a syringe, and began to set up. Once she melted down the drug and got everything in order, she was ready to take the mystical train to cloud nine. As she filled the syringe with the smack, she felt her vagina get wet as if she were about to have sex with her dream man; however, the only thing that was about to go into her was a needle filled with heroin.
She pulled off the jacket to her jogging suit and grabbed a belt that someone had left on the table. She tied the belt around her arm and fastened it as tightly as she could. She put the end of the belt in between her teeth to keep the tension. She slowly pushed up the syringe to eject the water that was at the tip, and prepared to put it into the big green vein that had formed on her forearm. She slid the syringe into her vein and slowly ejected herself with the dope.
She instantly became relaxed, and a small smile formed on her face as her eyes closed. Drool began to creep out of the left side of her mouth as she slumped into the chair. Within seconds, she had slipped into a deep nod, and all her pain was temporarily taken away from her.
Unbeknownst to Breeze, another hustler by the name of Scoot had known about the relationship Zyir and Breeze once shared, and he immediately called his mentor to tell him that Breeze was inside of the dope house shooting up. Scoot knew that once Zyir or Mecca found out that Breeze had been served on one of The Cartel’s blocks, it would be hell to pay. That’s exactly why Scoot called Zyir to notify him, hoping he would be saving his own ass.
Zyir sped down the street with Illiana in the passenger’s seat. Their lunch date was cut short by a phone call Zyir had received moments ago. “Can’t believe this shit,” Zyir whispered as he maneuvered through traffic, trying to get to Breeze. Illiana sat in the passenger’s seat with her hands crossed over her chest tightly. She had a major attitude, and the way that Zyir cared for Breeze had her jealous.
“Just let her be,” Illiana said as she rolled her eyes at Zyir. He shot a look over to Illiana that said much more than words could describe. Basically, if looks could kill, Illiana would have been dead right then and there.
Zyir pulled onto the block, turning the corner almost on two wheels. He stepped out of the car and began yelling. “Where she at?” he asked no one in particular.
Everyone pointed to the house, and Zyir quickly entered his dope house and scanned the room. What he saw in the corner broke his heart. Breeze was nodding, with a syringe stuck in her arm.
“No, Breeze… no,” Zyir whispered as he slowly walked over to Breeze. She was so high she didn’t even know that he was there. Zyir reached Breeze and dropped to his knees so he could be eye level with her. He slowly took the syringe out of her arm and forceful
ly threw it across the room in anger. He then grabbed Breeze by the face and lightly smacked her, trying to wake her up.
“Wake up, beautiful. It’s time to go,” he said as his heart ached. Seeing Breeze high was one of the worst things he could ever endure. He loved Breeze, and he refused to let her continue down the path of destruction.
“Breeze!” he called again.
“Hey, Zyir,” she said in a slurred voice, barely opening her eyes. She smiled goofily because the drug had her in a total daze, and her body was completely relaxed.
“Come on, baby,” he said as he picked her up and headed out the door. Zyir kissed Breeze on the forehead gently as she kept nodding uncontrollably.
“Open the door,” he ordered to Illiana. She rolled her eyes and got out to do as he requested.
Zyir slid Breeze into the back seat and then closed the door. Zyir immediately pulled out his gun and made his way to the stoop where the hustlers were posted.
“Who served her?” Zyir asked with an ice-grill expression on his face. He was extremely upset, and was about to show the youngsters how The Cartel got down. “Who?” he asked again after not getting an immediate response. The hustlers on the stoop knew that Zyir meant business, so it did not take long for the finger pointing to begin. Zyir saw that everyone, including Scoot, pointed out the guy who had sold the dope to Breeze. Zyir instantly grabbed the dude by the neck and put the gun in his mouth.
“I want everybody to listen and listen close,” Zyir yelled, trying to get everyone’s attention. Everyone on the block looked at Zyir as he dragged the young hustler to the middle of the street. “Nobody serves Breeze. Do you fuckin’ hear me? The Cartel runs this city, not y’all. You work for us!” he yelled, something that he rarely did. “If I hear about anybody giving her dope, this is what’s going to happen.”
Boom! A single shot rang through the air as the young hustler’s brains were blown all over the pavement. His body instantly went limp and dropped. Zyir released his grip and let him fall.
The entire block was stunned. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Zyir had just shut down the whole block with a single shot. Zyir wiped the blood off of his face and looked around, giving every single hustler direct eye contact. He sent a message that would be embedded in each one of their hearts forever.
Zyir sat with Breeze twenty-four hours a day for weeks as she kicked her habit cold turkey. It was so painful for him to watch her body go through withdrawal, but he knew that it was for the best. By giving her tough love, he was saving her from herself. She had not asked to be introduced to addiction, but she was allowing it to eat her alive. He knew that she was strong enough to overcome the monkey on her back; all he had to do was convince her of that. He had never thought he would see the day that she would be so strung out, and he had to remind himself daily that she did not choose this lifestyle; it had been forced upon her.
The more time he put in with Breeze, the more irritated Illiana became. Zyir didn’t have time to babysit her, however. His only focus was helping Breeze get better. He even missed out on money to be with her. Everything in his life was put on hold. Nothing mattered more than she did. This was not a battle that she could fight on her own, so he was going to walk with her and fight it for her every step of the way.
Nobody really understood the connection that he felt for her. All they saw was a black girl who had been lost to the game, but in her, Zyir saw so much more. He knew that the girl he loved was still somewhere inside of her. All he had to do was love her through her pain and help her get back to the beautiful young girl she used to be.
Breeze’s body went through hell and back. Zyir saw things come out of her that no man ever wanted to see, but he never turned his back on her. There were even days when she degraded herself. She had been so used to being used and abused that she offered to trade sex for drugs with Zyir. She had no clue how her words tore his heart out of his chest. All she knew was that she wanted her fix.
Zyir attributed everything to the heroin and took it all in, absorbing the pain every day in order to help her get better. Zyir did not care for many people, but for Breeze he would go to the end of the world and back. She had captured his heart and loyalty forever. He knew that she would never be the perfect girl. She was too jaded, too scarred to revert back completely, but as long as she was able to get clean, she would be perfect for him. That’s all that he could ask of her, and he was doing all in his power to ensure that she made it through.
Chapter Sixteen
“I’m the only fucking professional out of the bunch.”
– Robyn
Carter sat at his dining table as he stared in disbelief at the information in front of him. After hiring a private investigator, he had found out Miamor’s true profession. The truth was staring him in the face, and he finally understood why Mecca’s hatred for Miamor ran so deep. A part of him wondered if what they had was even real.
He refused to believe that she was playing him just to get to The Cartel. He had gotten inside her head, he had explored the space between her legs, and had learned to control her heart. The way he had loved her was rare. He had never given himself to a woman the way he had with Miamor. To think that it was all a lie was unfathomable.
Before him were pictures of the Murder Mamas, newspaper clippings from the crimes they committed, and an address where they could be found now. Carter’s P.I. had tracked them down in California. As the evidence of Miamor’s ruthlessness haunted him, he felt an overwhelming urge to speak with the members of her crew who were still standing. He remembered meeting them once at the club, but had no idea how dangerous the ladies were at the time. As he found out about Miamor’s life as a murderer for hire, he developed a newfound attraction to her. She was the best at what she did.
She could’ve trusted me with this secret, he thought.
The Murder Mamas’ track record was so brutal that he knew he was lucky to be alive. Even none of his own young gunners had the body count that Miamor and her crew had attained.
If I had known, I would have put her down with The Cartel, he thought, impressed and intrigued all at the same time. Miamor had truly been one of a kind, and he did not know how much so until now.
Through all the anger and confusion he felt, the love he had for her was still present. Despite the fact that she had played a vital part in the demise of his family, the spell she had cast on him was still too potent for him to shake her loose. Her spirit was with him. He was in love with a killer-a Murder Mama.
They could have been the power couple sitting at the top if she had just been honest with him. Her hatred for his family could have been resolved, her ongoing beef with Mecca settled, if only she had told him the truth.
She was ruthless, but she had bitten off more than she could chew when she became Mecca’s opposition, and as much as he wanted to, he could not blame Mecca for the decision he had made to put her down.
Carter finally understood that he was not the only one involved in a love affair with Miamor. Mecca had had his own relationship with her as well, but instead of exchanging whispers and kisses in the night, Mecca and Miamor exchanged hollow points and warfare. They had been enemies of the worst kind.
Mecca was right. Would she have killed me next? He had to know the answer, and the only way to find out was to talk to the people who had known her best.
He looked at the California address once more and hopped up. He had to see Robyn and Aries. They were the ones who could give him the answers he so desperately sought.
Carter cocked his gun to load a single bullet in his semi-automatic and removed the safety as he placed it on his hip before getting out of the car. He carefully approached the front door to Robyn and Aries’ place. Their good looks concealed their malicious intent, but now that Carter knew how they got down, he would not be caught slipping. He didn’t come to play games; he simply wanted answers. A conversation was all he wanted, and he hoped that they could put aside their hatred for him for the moment.<
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He placed his hand near his waistline as he knocked on the door. When Aries pulled it open, she gasped in surprise. A mix of emotions filled her as she pulled her baby.380 without hesitation and pointed it directly in Carter’s face.
“Aries, who is it?” Robyn shouted from the kitchen.
As tears filled Aries’ eyes, she couldn’t move her mouth to answer.
Carter didn’t flinch as he stared at Aries sincerely. “I’m not here for all that. I come in peace. I just want to talk.”
Aries’ lip quivered as she thought of pulling the trigger on the man that Miamor had loved. “You let she die,” Aries whispered.
“Aries! Who is it?” Robyn asked as she walked up and pulled the door open fully. She stopped and stared Carter in the eyes. “Shoot him,” she said.
“Me friend is dead because of you,” Aries said again.
“I know. Please, I just need to know more. I know about everything, about her affiliation with the Murder Mamas, and I just really need to speak with the two of you. I have to know if anything she said to me was ever real. Was I just a target?” Carter asked.
Both Aries and Robyn could see the pain in his eyes. Aries lowered her gun and stepped to the side as Robyn relieved him of his weapon.
“Are you alone?” Robyn asked reluctantly.
“Nobody knows that I’m here,” he replied.
“Come in,” she said as she led him to the kitchen table, while Aries walked behind him with her gun still in her hand.
Carter took a seat across from Aries as Robyn went back into the kitchen.
She emerged with two plates of food. “We were about to eat. You might as well join us.” She placed the food in front of Aries and Carter before going to fix her own.
Once they were all comfortable at the table, Aries asked, “How did you find us?”
“If your money is long enough, anybody can be found,” he replied.
