Carter put his hands to his face as he felt the hot tears threaten to fall. He was in utter turmoil just at the thought of Miamor’s death. She had been his life, his everything, the woman that he had wanted to marry. He had planned to spend an eternity with her, and in the blink of an eye, she had been taken away. Mecca had robbed him of his only chance in life to be truly happy. Miamor was his happiness.
Carter already knew of the basement that Mecca spoke of. It was The Cartel’s torture chamber, and he knew that Mecca had made her suffer a horrible death. He could hear Mecca crying as he poured out his sins, and Carter closed his eyes, allowing his own silent tears to fall. Both brothers sat on differences sides of the booth in turmoil.
The nigga deserve to die. All of this, this entire war started because of the lies he told. Everybody would still be alive if it wasn’t for Mecca. We broke the truce with the Haitians because we thought they were responsible for Money. All along it’s been him, Carter thought. His rage was so prevalent that it burned his insides, making him feel as though he would explode at any moment. Hearing Mecca’s confession and finally finding out the truth caused his stomach to turn violently. He was sick with grief. He had loved Mecca and trusted him.
How could he kill Money? He was our brother, Carter thought. How did I miss what was right in front of my face for so long? Mecca murdered Miamor.
Carter couldn’t grasp the fact that two people he had cared dearly for had been ripped from underneath him. It was unfathomable, and even though he had heard the words come directly from Mecca’s mouth, he still did not want to believe them. Carter remembered all of the lies that Mecca had told to cover his tracks as he watched Mecca rise and begin to walk away. It was up to him to end Mecca’s reign of terror, but he could not do it. Sitting underneath’s God’s watchful eye, all he could do was mourn the deaths of those he had lost at the hands of his only remaining sibling.
When Mecca exited the church, Carter stood to his feet and stumbled out of the confession booth. He stepped over the priest’s dead body and down the long aisle of the church. He palmed his gun tightly in his hand; the security of having it locked and loaded reassured him. He had no idea what his next move would be, but there was one thing that he was sure of: his brother, Mecca, could not be trusted.
The nigga has destroyed everything around him. It’ll only be a matter of time before he comes for me.
“What’s the matter, Zyir? You’re not used to riding in things this big?” Illiana asked as she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. “You’re going fifty-five miles per hour. The limit is seventy.”
Zyir sighed as he reached over and pulled the cigarette from between her lips. She had been talking nonstop since they left Mexico, and he was more than tired of hearing her talk slick out of the side of her neck.
“Hey!” she objected as she turned in her seat and looked at Zyir in irritation.
“I said no cigarettes,” Zyir replied as he kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of him. Driving from Mexico back to Miami was a four-day trip, and he was sure to go crazy with Illiana riding shotgun.
Illiana rolled her eyes and crossed her hands over her chest. She pointed at the highway sign and said, “Pull over at the next stop.”
“What the fuck for?” Zyir asked. “I can’t keep stopping every hour. We’ll never make it back at this rate.”
“I have to piss, so unless you want me to soak these fucking seats, pull over at the next stop,” Illiana replied bossily.
Zyir glared over at her. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from barking on her. It was obvious that she was used to men catering to her every whim. This bitch is going to drive me crazy, Zyir thought as he pulled over at the next rest stop. “Hurry up,” he instructed.
Illiana purposefully took her time as she watched Zyir through the window of the truck stop. She enjoyed giving him a hard time. It was foreplay for her. Since the moment she had seen him, he held her attention. He was focused, powerful, and had a dominant personality that piqued her interest. It was she who had convinced Felipe to send her to Miami. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to get to know Zyir. She was a woman who did not understand the word no, and when she saw something she wanted, she went after it relentlessly. Zyir was in her line of sight and he did not even know it.
As she finally emerged from the rest stop, she noticed Zyir standing outside of the truck, waiting impatiently and looking around cautiously.
“Relax. Nobody’s watching, Zyir. You American boys are so paranoid. You watch too many gangster movies. My brother has moved shipments like this for years and nothing has ever gone wrong,” she stated as she stood directly in front of him. She was standing so closely that she could feel the imprint of his penis rubbing against her. The thin linen fabric of her sundress blew in the wind, and she made no effort to move.
Zyir smirked at her blatant attempts at flirtation. “Get in the car. We’re not stopping again,” Zyir stated in a firm tone as he pushed her gently away from him and hopped back into the truck.
Zyir got back onto the Interstate as Illiana reached for the radio to turn it up. Zyir immediately switched it back off.
“What, the radio isn’t allowed either?” Illiana asked. “I’m supposed to ride for days without any entertainment?”
“I can’t hear the sirens if the radio is blasting,” Zyir answered simply. “Read one of your magazines or something.”
“I guess I’ll have to entertain myself then,” she replied with a mischievous smile as she opened her legs and slipped her fingers up her dress. She played with her clit as one of her straps fell off her shoulder. Zyir peered over and almost slid off the road as he swerved in surprise.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he cleared his throat uncomfortably and regained control of the wheel.
“You told me to read or something. This is something,” she whispered. The look in her eyes radiated lust as she put on a one-woman show for Zyir.
He couldn’t help but to look over at the lovely sight as she closed her eyes and worked her fingers in and out of her wetness. He could see her juices flowing onto the seat.
“You can touch it, Zyir. I know you want to.” Everything about Illiana was inviting; even her words teased his ears as he struggled to keep his attention focused on the road. His manhood hardened at the visual Illiana was providing him with.
Illiana was a seductress, and she laughed slightly because she knew that Zyir was trying to resist the inevitable. She crawled across the front seat of the cabin and climbed into Zyir’s lap, straddling him.
“Yo, fuck is you doing, ma?” Zyir asked, his voice low with indecision as he continued to drive. “You gon’ make me crash this big mu’fucka.”
Illiana reached down and massaged his hard-on through his cargo shorts before removing it from its confinements. “Hmm,” she moaned as she kissed his neck.
The scent of her invaded his nostrils as he gave in to the temptation. She was too beautiful to resist, too enticing to turn away, and although he knew that mixing business with pleasure was for the foolish, Illiana was too hard to turn away. Just like all of the other men she had encountered, he could not tell her no.
“Let me pull over,” Zyir whispered as his breath caught in his throat when she slid down on his shaft. She was so tight that it felt as if his dick was in a glove specifically sized for him. “Damn, ma.”
“No, keep driving. Don’t stop,” Illiana moaned as she worked her hips in circles, enjoying how he filled her up perfectly, taking up all the space in her pussy. The girth of him took her breath away as she rode him slowly.