Murder left that meeting feeling like in some way he had betrayed Miamor; however, he knew that to take down The Cartel correctly, he would have to play a role. Murder had just ordered the Murder Mamas to head back to L.A., and even though they were against leaving him there alone, Murder insisted. Murder had taught Miamor everything she knew about her profession, and off the strength of that, Robyn and Aries listened to him.
At that moment, Murder was on his way to meet Mecca at a warehouse, and the Murder Mamas were in the air headed home. On that day, Murder was supposed to meet Zyir and Carter for the first time. Murder questioned his willpower. He was not sure that he would be able to handle seeing Carter without reaching for his gun and going all out. Only time would tell.
Murder took a deep breath and whispered, “I love you, Miamor,” as if she were in the car with him. Deep in his heart, he was confident that she could hear him.
As Murder pulled into the warehouse where Mecca had directed him to meet them, he took a deep breath to prepare himself. It was an old steel factory on the outskirts of Miami. The Diamond family owned the property, so it looked as if it was a shut down establishment, but it was where the bricks were stored and shipments were dropped off.
Murder stepped out of the car, and moments later, a Lamborghini pulled up behind him, shining its lights on him. Murder blocked his eyes and tried to see who the driver was. It wasn’t until Mecca killed the lights and the butterfly-style door arose that Murder saw who it was.
“What’s up, fam?” Mecca asked as he approached Murder.
Murder instinctively clenched his jaws as his hatred for Mecca surfaced once again. Murder caught himself and calmed down before Mecca got close enough to read the expression on his face. Niggas like Mecca could sense larceny, so Murder had to be sure to keep his temper in check at all times.
“What’s good?” Murder said between clenched teeth. He shook Mecca’s hand and put on a fake smile just before Mecca led him into the warehouse.
Carter and Zyir were already there, counting money and loading duffel bags with the bricks so that they could be distributed to their blocks. They had been there for over an hour and had parked in the back out of sight.
As Murder walked in, he had to stop his mouth from hitting the floor. He had never seen so many kilos of cocaine in his life. It was then that he knew that The Cartel was much more than street legend. They were the real deal.
Having Carter, Zyir, and Mecca in one place at the same time, he thought about taking them out right there. But he quickly changed his tune when he saw the arsenal of automatic weapons sitting on the table near the money.
“What took you so long?”Carter asked as he thumbed through the hundred dollar bills without looking up.
Zyir frowned when he saw the man following Mecca. “Fuck is this new nigga?” Zyir asked, not one to hold his tongue.
“I had to make a stop, but check it. This is my man I was telling you about. This nigga is on some Jet Li type shit with the pistols. He’s nice,” Mecca bragged.
“Word?” Carter said as he stood from the table to shake Murder’s hand. Mecca had told Carter and Zyir about Murder, and they needed an enforcer, so they had wanted to meet him. But when Carter shook Murder’s hand, he felt that something was off. Call it a hustler’s intuition; the handshake wasn’t right, the eye contact was too stiff, and Murder’s body language didn’t match his facial expression.
“Murder, this is Carter. Carter, Murder,” Mecca said, introducing the two men that both loved Miamor to the bone.
“What’s up?” Carter said.
“‘Sup family?” Murder returned.
“And this is Zyir. He handles everything on the street level,” Mecca said. Zyir was so busy counting the money that he didn’t even properly greet Murder. Zyir just glanced at him briefly and nodded his head.
Carter didn’t say anything then, but he made a mental note to tell Mecca to ditch the new nigga. He didn’t get a good vibe from him, and rightfully so, because Murder wanted all of them dead.
“Yo, let’s wrap this up. I got to make a move,” Carter said, trying to cut the night short. He didn’t feel comfortable around Murder and wanted him gone.
Zyir picked up on Carter’s vibe and agreed. Mecca was slipping, and Carter was going to tell him about himself later.
The next day, Mecca had a talk with Carter, and he instantly cut off Murder. They also shut down that location as a dropoff and pick-up spot. Carter didn’t know if Murder was a fed or an enemy, but he knew one thing: he could never be a part of The Cartel
Chapter Fifteen
“The Cartel runs this city, not y’all. You work for us!”
– Zyir
Breeze paced the spacious room back and forth, trying not to think about the subject that overwhelmed her thoughts. She was battling her conscience, and also the pain that was in the pit of her stomach. Heroin was calling for her, and she was on the brink of answering.
No, Breeze, you can’t. I can fight this shit, she thought as she clutched her stomach and fell to her knees in pain. The pain that shot through her stomach was almost unbearable as she collapsed to all fours and began to cry.
Breeze couldn’t understand what was going on with her body. She had never had an itch so bad, and whether she knew it or not, she was going through withdrawal. She was so used to getting dope shot into her veins on a daily basis that the first time her body went without it, it became excruciating. She kept thinking about what her father would say if he saw her in the state that she was in at that moment.
Breeze stood to her feet and took a deep breath while still clenching her stomach. She was ashamed of what she was about to do, but she couldn’t help it. She had to shoot the magic into her veins immediately. She had to. She craved the warm sensation that the dope had when it crawled up her veins after injecting it. She kept thinking about how good it would make her feel, and that thought alone was almost orgasmic. She had spent the last fifteen minutes going back and forth, hoping that she would have enough willpower to fight the urge. However, when that monkey is on a person’s back, all logic goes out the window.
Breeze quickly rushed to Zyir’s room and began to search through his drawers, trying to find any money she could. She ran across a rubber band full of hundreds, and immediately clipped two of the crisp bills. She then rushed to the front room and grabbed Zyir’s car keys. She was out the door and on her way to the trap to cop a fix.
Breeze cruised the streets, searching for a dope boy to serve her a fix. She had on a jogging suit with house shoes on her feet as she pushed the new model Benz down the street. Before, she would never have been caught looking anything less than glamorous, but now it was a different story. She was no longer street royalty. She was just a junkie looking for a fix. She was a completely different person than she once was, and life had taken a toll on her.
She pulled onto a side street that was known for drug trafficking and parked her car. She noticed a group of young thugs posted on a stoop and waved one of them over. All eyes were on Breeze as she posted on the block and waited for the young hustler to approach her car. Breeze was fidgety and anxious as she tapped her wheel repeatedly, waiting for the guy to approach. “What’s up, ma?” the hustler asked as he bent his head down and licked his lips.
“What’s up? You got some ‘boy’?” Breeze asked, cutting straight to the point while clenching her stomach.
The young thug squinted his eyes and recognized Breeze when he looked closer. He couldn’t believe what she was asking him for. Here she was, the daughter of Carter Diamond, sister of the most ruthless gangster, and the dream girl for any dope boy that ever laid eyes on her, and she was looking to cop some dope from him. He instantly knew that she was craving dope from her body language.