by Ashley
Miamor spoke with so much passion that tears came to her eyes. It was like she was pleading for her freedom. This relationship had run its course. If she was honest, she would admit that Murder had put a fear in her heart when she was only sixteen years old. He had used that fear to control her ever since. Miamor had always thought that the passion he had for her … the obsession … would be the thing that killed her. She wasn’t doing it anymore, however. She wasn’t living this way. Baraka was dead. Fly had come back for her when Carter himself hadn’t even bothered to. She was leaving.
Murder lowered his head until their foreheads met. “I love the shit out of you, Miamor. It’s always been you,” he admitted.
There was just something about Miamor. Murder, Carter, Fly … she had connected with them in a way that no other woman could. It wasn’t her sex or even her looks, but her mentality that captured their hearts. She was it for them, but there wasn’t enough of her to go around. She only wanted one of them … Carter. But because of all that had occurred, he no longer wanted her.
“I know,” she whispered. She hadn’t anticipated this sadness. When she thought of the day they would part ways, she had thought she would feel joy, but she was letting go of her oldest friend. She didn’t have family. She didn’t have cousins or brothers. Her mother was gone. Her sister was gone. It was just her, and Murder was her oldest connection. “Just let go and take care of yourself. Good-bye, Murder.”
“Good-bye, Murder Mama,” he replied. She placed the gun on the bar and walked away, breathing a sigh of relief. It was easy. He had let her go. He was letting her walk away. He was …
BANG!
The bullet took her breath away and she gripped her stomach as she placed her hands on the blood spot growing on her white sundress. The burning that invaded her back brought tears to her eyes. He shot me, she thought in disbelief.
She turned around and looked him in the eyes as Fly Boogie rushed in, hearing the blast.
She fell backward, stumbling into his arms, but her eyes never left Murder’s. She knew what he was about to do. She knew him like the back of her hand. He was as connected to her as one of her limbs.
She watched in horror as he turned the gun on himself and put a bullet in his head.
Fly Boogie picked her up. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m going to get you to a hospital, Mia. Just hold on,” he said.
“He’s dead?” Miamor asked. So many times she had assumed so, only to have him come back to haunt her later.
Fly Boogie turned around and looked at Murder’s body. “He’s dead, ma.”
* * *
Miamor awoke. “I must be in heaven,” she whispered as her son’s face came into view. He was older, a big boy now, and so close to her that she could reach out and touch him. “Hmm,” she whimpered as she shook her head trying to shake off the haze of medication. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered.
Fly Boogie was standing over her now. “Shhh … rest, Miamor. I’ll explain everything to you when you come to.”
* * *
The pain that pierced her abdomen was unbearable as she finally came out of the fog. She struggled to pull herself up as darkness enveloped the room. Fly Boogie was sleeping in the chair next to her, but when he heard her movements he instantly went to her side.
“You’re okay,” he whispered as he leaned over and rubbed the top of her head. “You’re fine. Bitch nigga didn’t hit anything major. Bullet went in and out. You just have to rest.”
“I had a dream. I saw my son,” she whispered.
“You weren’t dreaming, Miamor. I came for you because I found him. I found him and Mo when I killed Baraka,” he said in a low tone.
He stood up and went to the curtain that separated the beds in the room. He pulled it back and revealed the two boys who were sleeping, cramped in the tiny bed.
Miamor’s hands flew to her mouth in disbelief. She was speechless, and her eyes pooled with tears. “How? Is this real?”
She didn’t care about the pain now as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “No, lie down,” Fly said.
“C.J.,” she whispered. She grabbed the rolling IV stand and willed her legs to hold her up as she hobbled over to the bed. She touched his face and gasped.
“Oh my God! You did this for me?” she asked. She knew that getting to Baraka was nearly impossible. Fly Boogie had risked it all for her. She owed him her life.
Her legs grew weak, and Fly Boogie scooped her in his arms. “It’s late. Let them sleep. He’s here now. He isn’t going anywhere. When you’re better, we’ll make the trip back and take Mo to his father. I’m in L.A. getting a lot of money now, Miamor. Life is good. Only thing missing is you, but I’m applying no pressure. You have years of catching up to do with your son. I just want to be here for you.”
He laid her back in the bed, but she didn’t sleep. She didn’t want to close her eyes and wake up to find out that this was all a dream. She watched C.J. and Mo all night until they awoke.
“Look who woke up,” Fly said, knowing that C.J. had been eager to see his mother.
“Ma!” he yelled in excitement as he hopped out of bed and ran to her, crushing her as he hugged her. She didn’t care that he was on her bullet wound. It was the best pain she had ever felt. Tears came. His. Hers. She kissed the top of his forehead. “I am never going to let you go, baby. I missed you so much. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Mo stood awkwardly. His disappointment was evident. He wanted his mother, but he had witnessed Leena’s death for himself. She was gone, and there was no bringing her back. It was the thing that Baraka had used to keep them from running away. He had promised them that he would kill everyone else they loved if they ever disobeyed him. Leena was gone forever, but where was his dad? Miamor looked at him and held out her arms. “Come on, Mo. Don’t worry. We’re going to take you back to your dad. Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe now. I promise.”
Fly Boogie flew them all back to L.A. on a private flight a few days later. As they crossed the Atlantic, Miamor turned to Fly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond, but instead he pinched her chin softly and brought his face close to hers. He felt her body tense. She was uncomfortable. He paused, thinking twice about kissing her. “You’re welcome,” he said. Pulling back, ego slightly bruised, he was still full of understanding.
Miamor felt bad. She knew how much he loved her. She just didn’t want to mislead him, but she did owe him. You have to get Carter out of your system. Move on. Fly is a good guy and he did all this for you, she told herself. Still, she couldn’t help how she felt. She had love for Fly. She even found him attractive and loyal, but she was head over heels in love with Carter. Carter isn’t here, she reminded herself.
Her thoughts consumed her the entire flight. When they landed, a black SUV waited at the clear port and they were driven to Fly’s house.
“Wow, you are getting money out here,” she whispered when they pulled up to his home. It was beautiful. It was the type of home that was filled with love and laughter, kids, and maybe a dog. “All of this for just you?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I would only want to share this with one other person, but she bullshitting,” he said playfully. “Let me show you around.” Miamor blushed, slightly embarrassed. “I think there is a room set up upstairs for each of you,” Fly said to them as soon as they got inside. The boys took off, and Miamor looked at him curiously. “I had it put together while we were in the Bahamas. I figured they’d want their own space until you were well enough to track down Monroe and C.J.’s father.”
Miamor peeped how Fly didn’t speak Carter’s name, but she didn’t say anything. She smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he replied.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she answered.
“There’s a room upstairs for you, too. If there’s something in there that you need that you don’t have, let me know and I’ll get it f
or you,” he said, pointing to the silver door near the kitchen. “There’s an elevator so you don’t have to bust your stitches trying to go up and down the stairs.”
Miamor made her way slowly to it and up to her room. She sat down on the king-sized bed slowly, wincing as she looked around. She was so grateful that she just let her tears fall. “Thank you, God,” she cried. It was time to piece her life back together. This was a second chance to get it right, and no, Fly wasn’t the man she thought she would make a life with, but he was a man who loved her. He would do anything for her, and Miamor told herself that it was time to put away her hopes of she and Carter ever reuniting. It was time to live in the present, whether she wanted to or not.
She heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said.
Fly opened the door. “You like it?” he asked.
She nodded. “I do,” she replied.
“There isn’t anything that you could ask me that I wouldn’t do, ma. You know that, right?” he asked.
Ma, she thought. She closed her eyes briefly. It was what Carter called her.
Her eyes fluttered open. “I know,” she replied.
He closed the door and walked over to the bed, getting on his knees in front of her. He spread her legs. “What are you…” She paused when she felt him slide her panties to the side. “Oh,” she moaned when he sucked her bud into his mouth. It had been three long years since she had been intimate with anyone. She hadn’t let Murder touch her. “Oh, wait … Fly … wait.” She threw her head back.
He opened his mouth like a fish and sucked on her entire pussy, pulling her lips into his mouth. He buried his face in her with just the right amount of pressure. She was dripping wet. “You want me to stop?” he asked.
She looked down at him … at this young fool in love. She nodded yes, but her lips said, “No.” It was all the invitation he needed.
“You taste so good, ma,” he whispered while kissing her inner thighs. He licked her with long strokes, like he was trying to clean up a melting ice-cream cone. Her toes curled. “You taste so fucking sweet. Damn, this pussy good.” She could feel her womanhood swelling in lust as he stiffened his tongue, targeting her center. Miamor gripped the comforter on the plush bed.
“Oh my God, Fly,” she moaned, calling his name. It only added to the fervor. He leaned her back, hurting her gunshot wound slightly, but she took that little bit of pain in exchange for the pleasure he was delivering. He ate her like she was his last meal, licking her passionately. “I’m about to cum,” she moaned.
She reached between her legs to place her hands on his head as she melted all over his tongue. He licked her clean and then inserted two fingers as he slid down the crack of her rear. There was no part of Miamor’s body that he wouldn’t please and he proved it as he brought her to a second orgasm, leaving her spent.
He came up for air and wiped his mouth with a charming smile plastered on his face.
He wanted her. She could see how much by the tent in his jeans, and she wanted it, too. If he tried his hand, she would let him have it, but to her surprise, he turned and headed for the door. He walked out without saying one word and he didn’t need to; his actions spoke for themselves.
CHAPTER 10
There was only one place where Money would go after leaving Vegas: Miami. It was his home. It was his city. His father had fed every family in the hood at one point. The Diamond name rang bells in Miami, and he had love. It wasn’t hard for him to take over when he returned. After losing Leena and Mo, something had snapped inside of Monroe. He was no longer the levelheaded twin. He was becoming more and more like Mecca as the years passed. Hotheaded, boisterous, ruthless. It was like Mecca’s soul had taken over Monroe’s body. Now he was all about the lifestyle. He had enough women and jewelry to prove it. Monroe was a kingpin and even the most naïve eye could see that. He didn’t care, however. He knew that tomorrow wasn’t promised. He had learned that lesson the hard way. He was just trying to live. The sound of his phone ringing was the only reason why he crawled out of bed. The two Dominican models he had entertained the night before were still sleeping. They had made a Money sandwich last night. He chuckled as he recalled the previous night’s events. Even he had to laugh at his outlandish ways. He was a savage. He picked up his cell phone, noticing that it was the gate guard calling.
“Mr. Diamond, you have visitors. Mrs. Miamor Jones is here with three guests,” the guard informed him.
Money’s blood boiled. He hadn’t seen Miamor since Leena’s funeral. He hadn’t seen anyone since the funeral, actually, but Miamor, he resented. He blamed her for the way that things had unfolded with Baraka. “Let her in,” Monroe said. He hung up the phone and slipped on some clothes.
“Get up. Get up. It’s time to bounce,” he said as he slapped one of the girls on her voluptuous behind. He grabbed the bottle of champagne they had been drinking and tipped it to his lips. He kept it in his hands. Might as well finish this shit, he thought.
“Aye, papi, I thought we would have more fun,” one of them cooed.
“Fun’s over, bitch,” Monroe stated. He tossed them their clothes as they dragged themselves out of bed, cursing him out in Spanish.
“I speak that shit, too, bitch. Get out,” he said, ushering them to the door.
“You drove us here. How are we supposed to get home?” the other girl asked.
Monroe pulled out a stack of cash and tossed it to the girls. “For your time,” he said.
“What do we look like? Prostitutes?” the self-righteous one said, offended.
The other one flipped through the rubber-banded stack and quickly silenced her friend. “Nah, we’re square, Money. Call me.” She pulled her friend out of the front door as Monroe stepped onto the porch.
He watched as a tinted SUV pulled up and Miamor stepped out of the passenger side. Moments later, Fly Boogie exited the driver’s side.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, Miamor,” Monroe said, slightly irritated.
Miamor didn’t even speak. She simply opened the back door and Mo came running out.
“Daddy!” Mo said as he ran up the steps. The champagne bottle fell from his hands and shattered against the concrete stairs as Mo ran full speed into a stunned Monroe’s arms.
C.J. exited the truck and stood in front of Miamor as she placed her hands on his shoulders.
Monroe held out his arms as if he were being hugged by a kid he didn’t know. His confusion was written all over his face. He knew this was his son because he looked just like him.
How? He thought as he looked to Miamor for the answers. He picked up his son and hugged him so tight that Mo couldn’t breathe.
Miamor, Fly, and C.J. ascended the steps.
Monroe was so emotional that he had to pinch the bridge of his nose to stop himself from crying.
“We’ll explain everything,” Miamor said as she walked inside. “Boys, why don’t you go outside and play while we talk. If I remember right, there’s a basketball court in the back,” she added.
Monroe nodded, and the boys took off, but before his son could get fully out of the door, Monroe called him: “Mo!”
He stopped and turned to his dad. Mo looked like he was okay. He was back home in one piece. Monroe walked over to him and hugged him tightly. “I love you, son,” he said.
“I love you, too,” Mo said, before racing out.
He turned to Miamor and Fly. “How are they here? We had a memorial service. Baraka said he killed them.”
“He never went through with it,” Fly Boogie started. Fly explained the entire story to Monroe, leaving out no detail. By the end of it, Monroe had nothing but respect for him. He would be forever indebted to Fly for bringing his only born back home.
“Did he hurt them? In any way?” Monroe asked, afraid of the answer but having to know anyway.
“No,” Miamor said. “They saw Leena be killed and he used that fear to stop them from running or telling anyone else who they really were. But I�
�ve asked them hundreds of times and each time they both tell the same story. He treated them well. He wanted us to suffer, not them.”
Monroe wiped his face as he took all of this in. Just the day before, he hadn’t thought he had anything to live for. Now he was finding out that he had everything to live for. “We should have looked for them. We should have found Baraka. They were gone for three years. We missed three years with them because we gave up,” Monroe said, beating himself up.
“We can’t dwell on the time we lost. We just have to make up for the gift that we’ve been given,” Miamor said. She looked at Fly. “The gift that Fly has given us.”
She rubbed the top of Fly Boogie’s hand, intimately, and Monroe noticed. He was shocked at her display of affection for him. But hell, at that point, Monroe could have kissed him, so he could see how Fly Boogie had won over Miamor after the loyalty he had shown.
“I owe you. Let me pay you for that hit. Show my gratitude,” Monroe said.
“Nah. I’m good. I’m not hurting for anything. I’ve got my own thing going on, my G,” Fly said. The fact that he had turned down a huge payday made Monroe respect him more.
“You’re a good nigga, Fly Boogie,” Monroe said as he stood and slapped hands with him. He pulled him in for an embrace and patted Fly firmly on the back. He turned to Miamor. “Can I rap with you for a second?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course,” she said.
“I’ll go out and check on the boys,” Fly said, dismissing himself.
