“Is that right?’ Carter didn’t like what he heard, but he didn’t want to ask Zyir about it, not now at least. “Yo, how is that money in Liberty City? Did they come to see you yet?” he asked, referring to Liberty City’s hustlers. He wanted to know if they had re-upped yet.
“Yeah, they got ten yesterday. Them Overtown niggas, they copping heavy too. We’re going to need another shipment in soon.”
Carter began to rub his hands together and nodded slowly, knowing that Ace was talking big money. Ever since Carter had put his coke on the streets, he’d been making a killing. He saw more money in six months in Miami than he had seen his entire life back home. Carter had expanded his operation outside of Florida, hitting major cities like Atlanta, Houston, and New Orleans as well, and labeled his organization “The New Cartel.”
The New Cartel was run completely differently from The Cartel. Carter recruited young hungry cats from all over Dade County and pushed out the old heads. He had a clique of goons trying to make a name for themselves, which made them ruthless. Miami was definitely treating him good.
“Cool, I will put in an order later this week. The way shit going, we’re going to be able to retire in a couple of months, feel me?” Carter said.
“No doubt,” Ace added.
Carter walked over to Zyir, who seemed like he was in a daze. He had to nudge him to snap him out of his mental hiatus. “Zyir, you good?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just got a lot of shit on my mind.”
“We all do right now. You holding down them blocks I gave you, right?”
“Yeah, everything gravy. But yo’ man been acting kind of funny lately. I don’t know what’s up with the nigga.”
“Who you talking about, Ace?”
“Yeah. He be taking all day when I call him so I can re-up. My young’uns be running through that shit. So when he takes all day to call me back, we losing money. He never picks up my call. Shit gets frustrating, feel me? Nigga acting like a fed o’ something,” Zyir stated seriously, as he ice-grilled Ace.
Although he and Ace lived together, Zyir had noticed a lot of things that didn’t sit right with him. Since being in Miami, Ace had changed, and it definitely wasn’t for the better.
“I’ll talk to him about it. Don’t worry about Ace. I’ve known him since we were in the sandbox, fam. He ain’t no mu’fuckin fed, believe that.”
Carter smiled, admiring Zyir’s boldness. He reminded Carter of himself at his age. Zyir was only 18, but moved through life like it was a big chess game. That nigga don’t trust anybody.
Carter felt a hand on his back. It was Miamor.
“Hey, can I have this dance?” she asked sexily as the reggae band began to play a number.
Carter smiled as he took Miamor’s hand and slowly began to dance with her. He pulled her slowly to him, and the delightful scent of her perfume made him smile. Though the mood in the dancehall was sad, Carter planned to brighten it up later that night by asking Miamor to marry him.
“You my lady forever,” Carter whispered in Miamor’s ear as he smoothly spun her around. I love this woman with all my heart, and I want her to be my wife. He closed his eyes and swayed back and forth to a rendition of Bob Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry.”
Miamor closed her eyes and enjoyed her man’s embrace, swaying back and forth with him as she rested her head on his chest. “I love this song,” she whispered, snapping her fingers that rested on Carter’s upper back.
Just as Miamor opened her eyes, her heart nearly skipped a beat as she saw the crazed eyes of Mecca staring at her from across the room. The way he was looking at her would’ve sent chills through the toughest man’s body. She regained her composure and stopped dancing.
Carter felt her body tense up. “What’s wrong?”
“Your brother just walked in,” Miamor said, trying to not seem startled. She immediately thought about her deceased sister and instantaneously wanted to get at Mecca. When the time is right, when the time is right, she repeated in her head as she imagined herself putting a hole through Mecca’s neck.
Mecca viewed the whole room. He rubbed his neatly cut hair, trying to get used to not having his natural long-flowing mane. He had been dead to the world for six long months for three reasons: to stay away from Estes, to grieve his sister’s death, and also to plot. He walked in and noticed that all eyes were on him. He ignored the staring and made his way to his mother, who was so busy sobbing into a handkerchief at the front table, she didn’t see her son approaching.
“Hello, mama,” he said as he stood before her.
She didn’t respond, so he reached over the table to try to hug and comfort her.
“It’s okay, mama. I’m here now,” Mecca said in a soft voice. The guilt of killing the man that picked up the ransom for Breeze burdened him. Every day he regretted that he let his anger get the better of him.
Taryn looked up and saw that her baby boy was holding her; she hugged him tightly and placed her hands on his cheeks. “Baby, I was worried about you. I didn’t know where you were,” she said as she hugged him again tightly, squeezing him as if he might disappear before her eyes.
“I know, I know, but I’m home now, mama, and I’m not going nowhere,” Mecca assured his mother as he rubbed her back.
Mecca then looked over at Carter and Miamor and decided to go have a chat with Carter. He wanted to tell him about his woman. He was about to put Miamor on blast. He knew that Carter didn’t know who she really was.
During his brief absence, he began to do research on the Murder Mamas and confirmed that they were allies with Ma’tee. Fabian had known a lot of people that the Murder Mamas had done jobs for. That immediately threw up a red flag with Mecca. Miamor was a cold-blooded killer, and he knew she had an ulterior motive with Carter, who was sleeping with the enemy.
Mecca poured a glass of wine and headed across the room to talk to Carter.
Carter continued to dance with Miamor, but he knew that her mood had suddenly changed since Mecca entered the building. “Is everything all right?” he asked concerned and confused.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just got a light headache, that’s all,” Miamor responded distractedly.
As soon as she finished her sentence, Mecca came over with a wine glass in his hand. He came over with a smile and greeted his half-brother with a light hug. “What’s up, bro?” Mecca yelled.
“What’s good, Mecca? Glad to you could make it,” Carter answered.
Mecca looked at Miamor and put on a fake smile.
“Hello. It’s Miamor, right?”
“Yes, it is. Hello to you,” she answered coldly as she stared into his eyes.
Mecca quickly picked up Miamor’s hand and kissed it like a gentleman would do. He then gave her the glass of wine and said, “May I borrow your fella for a minute? We have to discuss business.”
“Sure.” Miamor grabbed the wine and walked over to talk to Taryn. Her blood boiled as she itched to kill Mecca. She had to just wait for the perfect timing to do it. He’s going to get his, she thought as she sat next to Taryn to comfort her.
In the meantime, Carter and Mecca began to converse.
“It’s good to see you, Mecca. How is that place that I set you up in?” Carter asked, referring to the low-key apartment that he had for Mecca in Atlanta, far out of the reach of Estes and his goons.
“It’s cool. But, look, I have to tell you some shit about your girl. She’s not who she seems to be.” Mecca rubbed his goatee.
“What?” Carter asked, totally taken aback by Mecca’s comment.
“Look, man, the bitch is foul!” Mecca said under his breath as he looked in Carter’s eyes.