“Carter, it wasn’t-” one of the men said, trying to explain why they were on the east wing, and no one was guarding the front door or Miamor’s room as Carter had ordered.
Carter grabbed the man and pulled out his own gun, putting it in the man’s mouth. “Open up, nigga!” Carter yelled as he harshly rubbed the barrel of the gun on the man’s lips.
The man opened his mouth and put both of his hands up, not believing what was happening. The other henchmen just looked on in fear. They had never seen Carter lose his composure whatsoever, so to see him so irate was terrifying.
“I pay you niggas good to watch and protect my fortress, and look what you do. You niggas don’t know how to make money. The only thing you have to do is stay on your post. I don’t pay you niggas to stand around and play games. What the fuck? Anybody could have come in here and hurt my lady!” Carter yelled as he thought about how he could’ve crept past them without anyone knowing. “Who was supposed to be at the door?” he asked as he continued to grip the man by his collar. He glanced around looking for an answer, but no one said anything. “Who!” he asked again as he dug the gun deeper in the man’s mouth.
The man he was holding raised his hand, unable to talk because the gun was in his mouth. Carter had found out all that he needed. He pulled the trigger, rocking him to sleep. Blood and noodles shot out the back of the man’s head, and Carter released his grip, letting his body fall to the floor. He didn’t even look at him fall. He just turned around and headed to check on Miamor. “Clean that shit up!” he yelled as he put his smoking gun on his hip. He had to send a message that he wasn’t playing, and that’s exactly what he did. Maybe if so much wasn’t going on, he would not have gone that far. He wasn’t the one for making regrets, so he whispered, “Don’t fucking play with me!” to himself, as he climbed the stairs to get to Miamor.
When Carter walked in the room, he saw the nurse that he had hired sitting next to Miamor, half-asleep. She was an older black woman who seemed to be in her early fifties. He had hired her from a health care service just before he went to Haiti. Carter walked over to the nurse and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Hello, Mrs. Smith. You can leave now,” he said as he greeted her with a smile and pulled out a wad of cash.
She smiled back and got up to retrieve her things.
Carter looked at Miamor, who was still in a comatose state. She never looked more beautiful in Carter’s eyes. He bent over and kissed her on the head. “Hey, baby,” he said as he smiled.
The nurse headed out of the door, and Carter remembered what he had just done downstairs, so he told her to exit out of the west wing’s door. He didn’t want her to see the gory scene that was downstairs by the main door.
She nodded her head in agreement, and exited the room, leaving him alone in the room with Miamor.
Carter sat at the edge of the bed and placed his hand on top of Miamor’s. He would give anything for her to just open her eyes. He would pay for her to tell him that she loved him. He still didn’t know who could do such a heinous act to such a beautiful girl. But when he found out who had done it, he would make them pay.
Never in his wildest dreams could he have guessed that her injuries were at the hands of his own flesh and blood, Mecca.
Carter was exhausted, and he was ready to go to sleep. He pulled up a chair so that he could fall asleep right next to Miamor, hoping that she would awaken. He grabbed a small blanket from the foot of the bed and positioned himself comfortably. He prepared to call it a night and closed his eyes. So much had been going on over the past week, and it had him drained. He said a quick prayer for his sister, Breeze, and whispered, “I love you.”
Out of nowhere, Miamor, with a cracked and low voice, whispered, “I love you too,” as she opened her eyes and let out a small grunt.
Carter quickly jumped up and looked into her eyes. He smiled. It felt so good to see her eyes after so long. “Oh my God, baby! You’re up! I’m here. I got you,” he said as he bent down and kissed her repeatedly on the forehead.
Miamor was so weak that she could barely keep her eyes open. They were so heavy that it felt like someone was pulling her eyelids down. She tried to move, but her body wasn’t responding. It took all of her energy to whisper those three little words, “I love you,” but those words were music to Carter’s ears. He was so grateful, so happy.
“I thought I lost you, Miamor. I would have waited forever for you to wake up,” Carter said as he felt his hands shaking. His nerves were getting the best of him because he was overwhelmed with joy. His queen was back.
Chapter Eleven
“What are we going to do?” Anisa asked as she paced back and forth and stared at Murder’s arrest on the TV.
“I don’t know,” I replied, clueless.
The police had Murder in handcuffs, and had confiscated the money he had on him; all the money he had to his name. His head hung low, and he tried to avoid the flash of the media cameras.
My stomach was doing somersaults as I watched in disbelief, and my foot tapped anxiously against the floor. I was pissed at Anisa, but I would never tell her. If she had not gone off on her ridiculous tangent, then none of this would have ever happened. No words needed to be spoken to establish guilt. We were both there, we knew how it had gone down, and she knew that it was her fault. In a zombie like state I walked past her. I was still covered in blood and needed to take a shower.
The eyes of the man that I had killed haunted me. I put the soiled clothing in a plastic bag and stepped under the hot stream of water. It was almost too hot to bear, but I needed it to cleanse myself. I was desperate for the shower to wash away the sins that I had committed that night. The blood ran down my body and turned pink as it swirled down the drain.
Why did this have to happen? I asked myself as my tears kicked in. I cried silently for all that I had lost. After everything that I had been through when I came out of lockup, my life finally felt normal. I had felt like I found a family in Murder and Anisa, but my disillusioned view of safety had come crashing down around me the moment I pulled my second trigger. Two lives had gone extinct behind my actions, and although I would never regret killing Perry, my second murder was weighing heavily on my heart. It was then that I realized I was not normal. I never had been, and after tonight, I never would be.
Scrubbing my skin until it was raw, I washed my body until the water ran cold. I was grateful for the film of steam that covered the bathroom mirror. I wasn’t ready to face myself. I didn’t want to look into my eyes, because I was sure that I would not recognize the girl who stared back at me.
Knock! Knock!
“Miamor, are you okay?” Anisa called through the door.
My hands shook as I picked up the plastic bag filled with my blood-soaked clothes, and I opened the door to let her in. “I’m fine,” I answered. “I need to take these clothes to the incinerator.”
She took my hand, reminding me of how she used to take care of me when we were little, then led me out of the apartment. We entered the room where the incinerator was and I tossed the bag inside. Anisa rubbed my hair and put her arms around me as we both watched it burn.
“Everything is going to be okay, Miamor. We have to move on, and you have to forget that tonight ever happened,” Anisa said.
I looked at her with a blank expression. “What about
Murder?”
Anisa didn’t look at me. Instead, she stared into the fire. “Murder knew the risks of the game he was playing. I knew one day something would go down and he wouldn’t come home. Today is that day.”