Just as he was about to make his exit, he noticed a book that stuck out slightly from the collection on the bookshelf. He walked over to it and pulled it gently. As he suspected, a trap door opened, and Murder slipped inside. It looked like an army’s arsenal closet. For a man of Murder’s profession, it was like being a kid in a candy store as he admired all of the flawless guns. He knew the room had not been meant for anyone’s eyes but Miamor’s. It was where she kept all of the details of the jobs she accepted, and tacked to the wall was a huge picture of Mecca Diamond with a red circle around it.
As he stared at the extensive research that Miamor had done on the Diamond family, he was amazed. She had been so detailed, so precise. She had indeed become the best at what she did. Even Murder did not realize what she was capable of. She even had monitors that showed the inside of her own home, so that when she was inside of the room, she would know exactly who was inside her place and what room they were located in.
He froze when he heard the lock to the front door turn. Luckily, Murder had made his way through the condo in the dark, and his identity was hidden behind the ski mask he wore. He turned off his flashlight and pulled the trap door closed as he watched the monitor to see who was coming inside. His temple throbbed when he saw Mecca Diamond enter.
Mecca had noticed that Carter had been throwing him shade lately, and he had a feeling that it had something to do with Miamor. He wanted to know how much Carter actually knew. It would give him a better idea of how to play the situation. He left the lights off as he moved through the place.
As Murder watched Mecca disappear through the monitors, he crept out quietly,.45 in his hand. Killing Mecca would be sweet for him, and as he stood in the middle of the living room, he contemplated his options. The Murder Mamas had advised him to play his cards right. If he hit Mecca tonight, it would throw a red flag to the rest of the members of The Cartel. There would be a contract out for Mecca’s murderer almost immediately, and with everybody on edge, it would make it even harder for Murder to get to Carter.
He silently headed for the door and was about to leave when an overwhelming hatred for Mecca overcame him. His murder game clicked on, and he turned on his heel and headed toward the bedroom.
Fuck hitting these niggas all at once. Another opportunity like this ain’t gonna present itself, Murder thought as he preyed on Mecca, letting his gun lead the way down the pitch black hallway.
Mecca used the tiny flashlight as his only illumination as he went through Carter’s possessions. When he found the small 14 karat gold cross that his father had given him, he froze. He hadn’t seen it since the day he killed Miamor. He had beaten her so mercilessly that it had fallen from his neck. The fact that Carter now had it meant that Carter had been to Mecca’s torture house. He had seen the tools that had been used to torture Miamor.
He knows, Mecca thought. He had hoped that it would not have to come to this. He had witnessed firsthand how much Carter cared for Miamor, and this would surely put them at odds.
He just couldn’t let the bitch go. That’s why he’s been looking at me sideways. Fuck! Mecca thought. He knew what had to be done, but was no longer sure if he could do it. He did not want to murder another brother. He was trying to become a better man, and it was no longer in him to take the life of someone he loved.
As Mecca thought over his dilemma, an eerie feeling suddenly came over him. He was a breed of mankind that had not been reproduced yet, and he instantly knew that someone was behind him. He could almost smell the gunpowder from the weapon that was pointed at the back of his head.
Mecca bucked back violently. “Aghh!” He screamed as he pushed back with all his might, throwing Murder off balance as Mecca rammed him into the wall.
A fight between the two men was useless. They were both too skilled to get the best of the other. Every blow Mecca threw, Murder blocked, and each time Murder wrapped his finger around the trigger, Mecca averted his aim. Their battle was like a synchronized dance as they attacked each other with full force, each becoming increasingly frustrated because neither could gain the upper hand.
“Who the fuck sent you?” Mecca barked. He was not sure who was gunning for him now. It could easily be Estes, but with this new revelation, it could be Carter as well.
Murder finally managed to get his finger around the trigger, and he fired relentlessly as he wrestled with Mecca for control of the gun. Sparks erupted from the barrel of the gun like a fireworks display on the Fourth of July.
Murder’s skinny build failed him in a fistfight. He would shoot the shit out of a nigga before he ever sparred with him, but Mecca, on the other hand, was good with his hands. Mecca’s well-built, solid frame allowed him to finally overpower Murder, causing the gun to go flying across the room.
Murder knew that Mecca was strapped, and went for the only exit in the room, the bedroom balcony. He ran full force, breaking through the glass, and disappeared before Mecca could get off a shot. Mecca was far from a rookie, however. It was the same exact escape that he had used to get away from Estes’ goons, and his hollow point bullets could swim. He knew to aim straight for the pool below.
He reached out and rushed to lean over the balcony, only to find the pool undisturbed below.
“Fucking nigga ain’t Superman. Where the fuck did he-” Mecca stated in confusion, but before he could even finish his sentence, Murder’s gun emerged from the balcony below. Without hesitation, he fired, hitting Mecca in the face.
Murder was grateful that he always carried a weapon on his ankle as he ran through the empty condo and out the front door, where he skirted off into the night.
The music in the club blared loudly as Carter sat back in the booth while a beautiful Mexican girl danced in front of him. His eyes graced the delicate curves of her body as she put on the best performance he had ever seen. Seeing her before him made him feel empty inside. Outwardly, no one would be able to tell that he was in turmoil, but in the privacy of his heart, he was broken from losing Miamor.
I should have been there for her. I could have stopped Mecca if she had just come to me. How did I not know what was going on right underneath my nose? A part of Carter felt like he did not even know Miamor. She had lived a lifestyle so closely linked to his that it was scary. His logic told him that he had been a target of hers along with the rest of The Cartel, but he could never bring himself to believe that she would ever bring him harm. The love that they had built was too deep, and although so many things she had told him had been lies, he knew that her feelings for him had been truth. He was in a daze as he thought of her, placing her face on the dancer in front of him.
“They don’t make tits like these in Miami, eh?” Felipe asked, interrupting Carter’s thoughts. “This is pure bred Mexicana pussy,” he bragged as he tipped generously and sipped at his glass of cognac.
Carter chuckled as he raised his glass to acknowledge the beauty that surrounded him in the club.
“This is the business that you need to get into. The drug money is good, but this is where it’s at,” Felipe stated surely.
“Prostitution?” Carter said doubtfully.
Felipe shook his head and smiled coyly while pointing at Carter. “No, my friend. That’s where you’re wrong.” He pointed to the girls around the club. “This right here, this is just one entity. Trafficking, that’s what I’m into. I buy and sell girls. I put them to work in clubs, brothels, on the street. Sex is man’s biggest addiction, Carter. I supply that demand, and it makes me filthy rich. Let me show you something.”