“Zy,” Carter began. He inched closer to Zyir. “Let her go, fam. This ain’t on you. Just hand her to me,” Carter instructed, seeing that his protégé's grief was as great as his own.
“Don’t take her from me, man, not yet. Just don’t touch her!” Zyir spoke in a low tone. “She needed me. She was hopeless and she killed herself because I wasn’t there.” Zyir sat with Breeze for an hour before Carter could convince him that it was time for them to depart. Zyir even tried to give Breeze CPR. They all knew that it was useless, but Zyir wouldn’t stop until he tried everything to bring her back. She held the key to his heart, and now that she was gone, it would be locked forever. The beautiful Breeze Diamond was dead.
Chapter Ten
All with tears in their eyes, Mecca, Carter and Zyir walked down the dirt path that led to their awaiting helicopter. They had just climbed down the mountain, none of them saying anything to each other on their way down. Breeze’s limp, lifeless body was in Zyir’s arms as he carried her with strength, determined to hold her upright and comfortable, even though it was in vain.
The town’s patrons followed as they saw Zyir carrying the dead body. It looked as if a parade was going on, with Carter, Zyir, and Mecca leading the pack.
Mecca held his gun out in the open as he walked in broad daylight, with onlookers looking at them in disbelief. With tears flowing, he promised himself that anyone he saw that resembled a Haitian would die in honor of his hatred for Ma’tee. Mecca was at a point where he didn’t give a fuck about human life anymore. He was already ruthless, but he had crossed the line, graduating to psychotic. He just wanted somebody to pay for all the grief that Ma’tee and his Haitian mob had caused his family. It seemed as if every Haitian resembled Ma’tee, and Mecca wanted vengeance.
He saw a spectator with a head full of dreads on the side of the road, along with the crowd. Mecca was going all out in tribute to Breeze.
He glanced at her body, and the sight of the red belt marks around her neck made him sick to his stomach. That sight was the most hurtful thing he had ever seen. He knew that Breeze loved herself too much to kill herself. For her to commit suicide, life had to be unbearable. This thought infuriated Mecca and pushed him to his boiling point. He looked back at the dread head and let him have it. Mecca pointed and fired, catching him in the chest. Although the man had no association with Ma’tee and posed no harm, Mecca didn’t care. He was borderline insane at that point. As the thunderous sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, people began to scream in horror and run for cover as Mecca looked for any other Haitian that even resembled Ma’tee.
The gunshots didn’t bother Carter or Zyir. Usually they would try to tame Mecca, but this time they let his rage flow uninhibited. Neither of them even flinched as Mecca let off round after round, while never stopping his slow pace as they walked. They knew that Mecca was creating therapy for himself in some sort of sick way. Who were they to tell him how to grieve? They were both heartbroken, and the only thing on their minds was getting Breeze back to the States for a proper burial.
Zyir cried silently and kissed Breeze on the forehead while she was in his arms. “I love you,” he repeatedly whispered to her as he continued down the trail.
Mecca continued to shoot calmly, with no expression on his face. People were yelling in terror and scattered like roaches as Mecca continued his therapy session.
They reached the helicopter, and the driver was waiting, just as Carter had told him to.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Carter whispered to himself, referring to burying loved ones. It was as if a healed wound was reopened when they saw Breeze’s body hanging from that belt. They had to suffer her death twice, and it was taking a toll on what was left of The Cartel.
They entered the helicopter and the pilot carried them back to the States. The chopper ride remained silent and painful, as tears fell down all of their cheeks.
Carter, Mecca and Zyir stood over the hole in the graveyard. Two of the graveyard’s workers began to dump dirt on the cherry oak casket that contained Breeze’s body. Breeze’s headstone was next to the rest of the Diamond family.
Mecca looked at all the tombstones, and noticed that he was the last one left alive with the Diamond bloodline, besides Carter.
Zyir stared, as the dirt getting dumped on top of the casket and the flowers that he laid on top of it, slowly disappeared with each scoop.
Nothing was said. Each of them were entertaining their own thoughts and grieving within themselves. They all had stonecold stares with heavy hearts. They were all cried out, and at that moment, they knew that The Cartel was over. All of the heartache and anguish wasn’t worth it.
“I’m done,” Mecca said as he stared at the hole in the ground.
“Me too… me too,” Carter whispered as he threw his arm around his brother.
“This game is so cold. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We supposed to pop champagne and live the life; but not this. The game has no loyalty,” Zyir added as he fought back a single tear for Breeze.
Carter began to think about Miamor, and how he had left her there alone for the past couple of days when they had gone to Haiti, and then took care of Breeze’s burial. He was fed up and ready to move on and start a life with Miamor.
He looked over at Zyir, the only real nigga he had besides Mecca. He didn’t want Zyir to fall victim to the game, and promised himself at that moment that he would not let Zyir fall into the pitfalls of this game.
They stayed there for hours and mourned her death before they headed back to the Diamond residence. Carter knew he would have to start making plans for his exit out of the drug game.
Carter pulled into the Diamond Estate, and the gates were opened by one of his many henchmen that he had guarding the house. Carter gave him a nod and pulled up the long, curvy driveway. He had just dropped Zyir off at his condo, and Mecca decided to stay over at Zyir’s.
Mecca was acting strange in Carter’s eyes. Carter chalked Mecca’s awkwardness up to him mourning his sister’s suicide. But little did Carter know, Mecca wanted to stay away from Miamor, because he knew that he would eventually kill her if he stayed under the same roof as her. Mecca wanted to wait until she woke from her coma before he killed her. He wanted Miamor to see his eyes as he sent her to her Maker. He was determined to finish the job Fabian had failed to do.
Carter got out of his car and entered the house. When he walked in, his henchmen were all on the couch, playing a video game. They were so busy ranting and raving that they didn’t notice him come in. “What the fuck is going on here?” he asked loudly, startling all five of the henchmen. They quickly jumped up, sensing the hostility in Carter’s voice.
“We were just-” the henchmen said, just before Carter threw up his hand, dismissing whatever he had to say. He began to walk over to the crowd of men with both hands behind his back. His body gestures didn’t display anger, but the veins that were forming in his neck and forehead was a sure giveaway. “Who is watching Miamor?” he asked calmly, as he looked each one of them in their face.