Mecca went to her side, to get her to let go of Carter’s hand. “Come on, B.” He gently rubbed her hair and lifted her head. “Don’t hold your head down. Poppa wouldn’t have that.” He smiled at her gorgeous face, and she gave him a weak nod of agreement as she finally left her father’s casket and sat with the rest of her family.
Just as the pastor took his place at the podium, the church doors clanged open. Gasps rang out throughout the church as all eyes focused on the young man who stood in the doorway. Speculative whispers traveled throughout the pews as everyone watched the young man walk down the aisle. From his skin tone, to his confident stride and striking features, he was identical to the man they were there to bury, and one would be able to guess without reading the tattooed name on his neck that he was Carter Diamond’s son. It was almost unnatural the resemblance that the two shared.
Mecca’s eyes followed the man as he approached the front of the church. “Fuck is that?” he hissed.
“The nigga looks just like Poppa,” Money commented in amazement.
“Mommy?” Breeze looked at her mother.
But Taryn needed no explanation. She knew exactly who the young man was. He was Carter Jones, her husband’s illegitimate son.
Polo leaned into her and whispered, “Taryn, I have something to tell you. Carter didn’t mean to-”
Without taking her eyes off the young man, she said, “Don’t worry about it, Polo. No need for you to explain. I know who he is.”
Carter felt the questioning glares of the people surrounding him. He stopped in the middle of the church and stared at the casket up front. His heartbeat was so rapid that he felt sick to his stomach. I shouldn’t be here, he thought.
Just as he turned to leave, four men with long dreadlocks entered the room. They were the only ones wearing black. Carter frowned at their blatant disrespect. They bumped him violently as they walked past, but Carter let it ride as he turned his head and watched them continue down the aisle.
Mecca’s temper immediately flared. He reached in his waistline for a pistol that wasn’t there. “Fuck!” he whispered as he began to stand.
Polo grabbed his arm to halt him. “Wait a minute,” he stated. “This is a part of the game.” Polo didn’t expect the Haitians to make their presence felt at the funeral. He had underestimated their coldness.
The church was silent as everyone waited to see how things would play out. It was no secret that the Haitians were responsible for Carter’s death. The dreadheads walked up to the casket and stood silently with their heads down, as if they were in prayer.
Taryn gripped her sons’ hands and let out a sigh of relief.
“See,” Polo said, “they’re only here to represent the Haitians. They’re just showing respect for the deceased. We gon’ handle that, just not here.”
Before the words could reach Taryn’s ears, she was in an uproar as she watched the Haitians hawk up huge gobs of spit and release them on her husband’s body, defiling Carter’s corpse.
“Hawk… twah!”
“Hawk… twah!”
Breeze watched in disbelief as the Haitians raised their feet and forcefully kicked the casket off the table, causing the body to roll out onto the floor. Carter’s head hit the floor hard, causing a loud crack to pierce the air, and the attendees gasped in horror.
Polo, Mecca, and Monroe sprung into action, with the rest of The Cartel behind them.
“Poppa!” Breeze shouted as she rushed toward the front of the church to retrieve her father’s corpse from the floor.
Taryn yelled in alarm, “Breeze!” as she watched her daughter head toward the mayhem.
Suddenly, bullets from an AK echoed throughout the church, Tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat!, little flashes of fire kissing the air, and was followed by the sound of people screaming and running for the exit.
Breeze didn’t care about the gunfire. She just wanted to get to her father. But before she could reach him, one of the Haitian gunmen snatched her up.
Taryn yelled, “Breeze!”
Carter looked in horror at the front of the church. He recognized the young girl from pictures that he had been sent when he was younger. She’s my sister, he thought as he pulled out his.45 without hesitation.
He stood up and scrambled to get between the screaming people as he aimed his gun and released one shot. His bullet hit its intended target, and the man holding Breeze dropped instantly.
Carter’s clip was quickly emptied as the gun battle continued. He was clearly outnumbered, but that didn’t stop him from reaching in his ankle holster and pulling out his 9 mm pistol as the three remaining Haitians shot recklessly, clearing a path to leave the church. Using his natural instinct for survival, he picked up the body of the dead Haitian and wrapped his arm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold from behind. The deadweight was heavy, but it was the only way for him to shield his body from the bullets being sent his way.
Carter yelled, “Y’all niggas wanna clap?” and shot his nine with one hand, while moving toward the Haitians, who were now headed for the door.
Carter’s gun spit hollow-points toward the Haitians as the dead body in front of him absorbed his enemy’s fire. POW! POW!
Just as he reached the exit door, one of the Haitians yelled, “Me going to kill you, muthafucka!” And the three remaining Haitians made a run for it.
Carter continued to shoot until he was sure they left the building. Once he was positive that everyone was safe, he dropped the dead Haitian to the floor and let off his last round into his skull. “Bitch nigga!” He hawked up a huge glob and spat directly in the dead man’s face, returning the favor on behalf of his dead father.
He rushed over to Breeze’s side. Rocking back and forth, she was holding on to her father’s dead body and crying hysterically.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Get the fuck away from her. We don’t know you, mu'-fucka!” Mecca stated harshly as he pulled Breeze off the ground. Her head fell into his chest as he walked her away.
Polo looked around at the carnage inside of the sanctuary. A couple people had been injured, and the church was destroyed. “We’ve got to get the fuck out of here,” Polo stated. “How did they get in?” Polo yelled in anger. He patted the Young Carter on the back. “Come on, let’s go before the police show. Follow me back to your father’s house.”
A look of surprise crossed Carter’s face.
“Yeah, I know you’re his son, but right now that’s the least of my worries. Just follow me back to the house. We need to talk.” With those words, Polo escorted the family out of the church, and they darted inside of the limo.
The Haitians had sent a clear message-They were out for blood, and they weren’t going to stop until The Cartel was out of commission.
Chapter Three
“Brother or not, next time homeboy step to me like that, I’m-a rock his ass to sleep.”
– Young Carter
The Diamond family sat in their living room along with Polo and Young Carter. The room was quiet; no one knew what to say. Taryn’s and Breeze’s eyes were puffy because of all the crying they had been doing, the horrific images of their loved one being kicked out of his casket haunting their thoughts.
Mecca’s Armani shoes thumped the marble floor as he paced the room back and forth, totally enraged, two twin Desert Eagle handguns in his hands. The Haitians had shown the ultimate sign of disrespect and was sending a clear message that they were trying to take over Miami. In fact, it was Carter’s decision to not cut the Haitians in on his operation that ultimately led to his assassination.