The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever Page 14

  “We gon’ get that money,” the leader said. Pandora’s box had just been opened, and Monroe knew that there was no coming back on what he had just put in motion.

  Miamor looked at the paper in her hands and smiled seeing her baby’s ultrasound pictures. She couldn’t wait to show Carter. The baby was getting so big, and the realization that she would finally be a mother hit her. This made her heart warm, and a smile spread across her face involuntarily. Just as the thought of Carter danced in her mind, her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that is was him calling.

  “Hey, baby. I was just—”

  “Look, Mia. Listen very closely to me. I need you to check into a room in South Beach. Do not go home,” Carter said, cutting her off midsentence. Miamor could sense the urgency in his voice, something very rare with Carter. He seemed worried.

  “Wait, wait. What’s wrong, baby? Is everything okay?” Miamor asked as the smile that was just on her face turned into a confused frown.

  “Everything is okay. I just need you to do that for me. As soon as you get there and check in, text me the room number. I will meet you there later tonight,” Carter instructed.

  “Carter, you are scaring me. Tell me what is going on,” she demanded as she made her way over to her car.

  “Just do what I said and I will explain it to you later tonight, okay?” he responded.

  “Okay. Carter . . . I love you,” Miamor said as she stopped walking for a brief second.

  “I love you too,” Carter said just before he hung up the phone. Miamor pushed the end button on her phone and headed directly to her car. She began to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach and she hated the feeling. She knew something was wrong. She had never heard Carter sound so anxious.

  Miamor hurried to her car and started it, looking around apprehensively. She pulled out of the parking lot and fixed her rearview mirror. She was growing nervous and paranoid because of Carter’s instructions. She maneuvered through the streets and headed toward South Beach. “I don’t know what’s going on, Carter, but—” Her thoughts were interrupted by a bum walking across the street and she hit her brakes abruptly, stopping just short of him. Her whole body tensed up, and she blew her horn to alert him. Just as Miamor made eye contact with the bum, a black truck pulled up next to Miamor’s car with three youngsters inside. Miamor held her breath as she noticed the menacing looks on their faces and knew that something wasn’t right. All three pairs of eyes were on her, and she felt her heart begin to pound hard. She noticed that their eyes looked past her, and she followed their eyes. Before she could react, a black van pulled up on the opposite side and a masked man jumped out and got into her car. He had a gun to her head and threw her car in park.

  “Nooo!” she yelled as everything happened so fast. The bum pointed a gun at the young boys as his partner grabbed up Miamor and forced her into the van. The youngsters were defenseless as they had their hands in the air. The goon posing as a bum walked backward to the van and hopped in. The sound of screeching tires filled the air as they bent the corner and sped off.

  A black pillowcase was put over Miamor’s head as she cried for Carter, but he couldn’t hear her. No one could.

  Chapter 17

  “You either let me walk out of here or Carter will send his goons to get me . . .”

  —Miamor

  Miamor coughed uncontrollably as she struggled to catch her breath. She had no idea how long she had been out, but as she opened her eyes she was hit with a splitting headache. Her mouth fell open in distress, but no sound came out as she grimaced in pain. Where am I? she thought.

  Surprisingly, she was left unbound, and she hesitantly stood to her feet. Miamor’s eyes danced around the room to find something to defend herself with as her heart raced. The room was small but comfortable. A queen bed and a bureau were the only contents of the room, but with no window Miamor was unsure of what time of day it was. Had she been out for hours or days? How long had she been gone? Did Carter realize she was missing? Miamor was at a mental loss as she tried to assess her current unfortunate event.

  A greasy bag of food sat on top of the dresser, and Miamor silently went over to it, emptying the contents. A burger and fries sat inside. She bypassed the food and opened the drawers, hoping to find anything that she could use to protect herself. A gun would have been nice, but Miamor wasn’t picky. A pen, a wire hanger . . . she’d take anything at this point, but to her dismay all of the drawers were empty. She had been tossed into an empty room, and her imagination was getting the best of her. The longer she waited, the more worry filled her heart.

  Miamor had never been afraid of anything in her life, but as she sat waiting for the unknown, she feared for the life of her unborn child. Maternal instinct caused her to think of the seed growing in her belly before thinking of herself. Where the fuck am I? she thought uneasily.

  Her frustration grew until she couldn’t contain herself. Fuck waiting for someone to come; she was going to make them come. Miamor walked over to the door and kicked it as hard as she could.

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  Always one to confront her attackers, she wanted to see who she was up against. She wasn’t about to cower and have the hours of the day tick by torturously slow. Someone had wanted her; now she was here, and she wanted to know the who’s and why’s behind the setup.

  “I know you’re out there! Who are you? If you think someone isn’t looking for me at this very moment you got the game fucked up! Do you know who I am?” she screamed as she beat the door with her fists, causing a commotion.

  Miamor had been a part of the streets long enough to know that whoever had taken her wanted something. Otherwise she would be dead already. Her first thought told her that Monroe was behind it. He had more than enough reason to want her extinct, but something about the situation just didn’t feel right. The new sheets on the bed, the mediocre but accommodating setup, the meal—none of it was Monroe’s style. Money would have put me in a dirt hole by now, Miamor thought. At the least he would have gagged and bound her. The freedom of movement and speech was a luxury in this situation, and it was one that Monroe would not have afforded her.

  Miamor lifted her foot to kick the door once more, but momentum caused her to stumble forward slightly as the door opened.

  A masked goon entered the room, enraged at her outbursts. She was loud, screaming at the top of her lungs. They were in the middle of nowhere, in the Florida Everglades to be exact, and there was no one around to hear her, but he’d be damned if he listened to her wails all night. “Bitch, get your ass over there and shut the fuck up before I cut your tongue from your fucking throat!” he ordered as he grabbed her roughly and threw her onto the bed.

  It took everything in Miamor not to come out of her mouth crazy at the dude in front of her. Fire danced in her eyes as she stared him down maliciously. Her pride told her to pop off, but the flutters of her child kicking in her stomach won the battle of reason, making her play it cool.

  “I’m sorry. Please, I just want to go home. What do you want? Is it money? I have money. I can get you—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” the goon yelled. A hard slap to her face caused Miamor to see stars, and she curled on the bed in a fetal position as she held her injured jaw.

  The goon stared lustfully at Miamor. Her breasts heaved under the thin fabric of the Chanel dress she wore and her ass could barely be contained, while her hips caused the hemline to rise. She held her face as she squirmed across the bed, putting her back against the wall.

  “Where you going? Huh? You running? I bet you run from the dick just like that, don’t you?” the goon asked as he hovered over Miamor, grabbing at her legs. Miamor kicked his hands away as she panicked. Carter’s face flashed through her mind. She needed him now more than ever.

  “No!” she screamed as her foot met with his mouth.

  “Fuck! You bitch!” the goon shouted in pain. Her protests only made him angrier, and despite the strict instructions he h
ad been given regarding the job, he decided that he would have a piece of Miamor. She was too enticing not to sample. Her gripped her thighs with both hands and pulled her forcefully toward him. His hands squeezed her skin so tightly that he left bruises where each one of his fingertips dug into her flesh.

  “Don’t do this, please. I’m pregnant,” she whispered as he climbed on top of her and pulled out his dick. A crooked leer spread across his face, and he lowered himself, positioning for entry.

  “Even better,” he cracked. “That’s the best pussy.”

  Miamor wanted to fight him, but he was three times bigger than her. The only thing she could think of was something happening to her child. If he hit her hard enough, in just the right spot, it could endanger her seed, and she had to protect that at all costs. She was in a delicate state, and her body stiffened at the foreign touch of another man.

  He opened her legs with such force that it felt as if her pelvis cracked. Tears flooded her vision. In the past he would have had to kill her to take what he wanted, but things were so different. Now, she had something to live for. Now, she would sacrifice a piece of her soul in order to survive. She lay stiff like a cadaver and closed her eyes as the goon ripped her panties. Her chest heaved in distress and . . .

  BOOM!

  The gunshot rang in her ears, forcing her eyes open as the weight of the goon collapsed over her. His now limp body pushed the wind from her lungs, and she placed her hands on his dead chest and rolled him off of her.

  Her body shook as his blood covered her dress and she looked up into the eyes of his killer. He was masked, but there was something familiar about him. The dark eyes that looked through the holes in the ski mask penetrated her. He saw through her.

  She squinted curiously as she opened her mouth to speak. “What do you want from me?” she asked.

  “I just want you, little mama. That’s it and nothing more,” the masked man responded.

  Her eyes widened in surprise as she rushed to stand. Her mouth opened slightly in disbelief. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. He wouldn’t do this to me, she thought. The gun that now hung at his side, gripped loosely in his hand, did nothing to stop Miamor from crossing the room. She reached up to remove his mask, but a firm hand gripped her wrist to stop her. They stood there for a moment, Miamor looking through the eyes of a killer as she shook her head.

  “It’s not you,” she whispered. “Is it?” she added unsurely. The goon released her hand and Miamor pulled off his mask.

  “Murder . . .” The whisper could barely be heard as she backpedaled away from him.

  “I missed you, li’l mama,” he replied.

  Mixed emotions filled her. He had taught her everything she knew and was the first man she had ever loved.

  “Murder?” she repeated in confusion, unable to wrap her mind around what was happening. Suddenly it was all so overwhelming. Rage bubbled to the top, over everything else. “Why would you do this to me?” she asked as she charged him, pushing him in the chest in frustration.

  Murder took her assault as she released years of pent-up resentment. The question wasn’t vague. It was deeper than just her kidnapping. When Murder had been sent away to prison, her entire world had changed.

  “You’ve been out of my life for years! You just can’t show up here! You can’t just come back!” Her anger turned to sadness as the things she felt for him in the past came rushing back to her. He was the only person who had ever seen her softer side. He knew her before she was an infamous Murder Mama. He had groomed her.

  Her resolve softened as she found comfort in his embrace, and she cried on his shoulder as his arms closed around her.

  “It’s all right,” Murder whispered as he pulled her tightly to his chest, holding the back of her head securely, his fingers lost in her hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up and let me take care of this nigga. After that we’ll talk and I’ll explain everything to you.”

  She pushed away from him, gathering her composure. “I don’t want to hear an explanation, Murder. I want to go home,” she said, her voice low. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, because the sincerity she saw in them took her down memory lane. In the past her affection for him had been so strong that she couldn’t deny him, but now things had changed. Now Carter had entered the picture, and her feelings for Murder dwindled when measured against her love for Carter.

  “I am home, Miamor. I came all the way down here to bring you home. I took on the biggest drug organization just to get you back. When I thought you were dead, I hunted these niggas, Miamor. Somebody was going to pay for what I thought happened to you, but when you resurfaced, I had to have you. You crossed my mind every day while I was locked up. Your face kept me alive in there, and I’m not leaving Miami without you, li’l mama,” he answered, his voice serious.

  “So you kidnap me? You snatch me off the streets and put me in harm’s way?” Miamor argued. His words tugged at her heart’s strings, but angered her all the same.

  “You were never in any danger,” Murder said. “Just give me a minute to explain, Miamor. Get out of the bloody clothes and just come sit down and talk to me. This is me. You can’t tell me that you’re not happy to see me.” Murder walked up on her and placed his hand beneath her chin. “You can’t say you didn’t miss me.”

  Miamor turned her head and attempted to walk around him, out of the room. He grabbed her arm and turned her back to him.

  “You’re not leaving. I’m sorry,” he stated sternly.

  Miamor scoffed in disbelief. “So you’re going to force me to stay? You’re keeping me here when I’m telling you I want to leave!”

  Murder was visibly wounded by her words. “I’m asking you to give me a week. I know you, Miamor. The life you’re living ain’t you. You don’t want to be wifey to a nigga like Carter. The nigga’s pussy. All of this Cartel bullshit. You telling me that’s the life you want? That ain’t you. You’re a loner. You’re a recluse. The only family you love was the little one that we created. Me, you, and . . .”

  “My sister,” Miamor whispered as she closed her eyes and saw Anisa’s face in her head.

  “You laying up with the very niggas that took her life, Miamor! She in the dirt and you sitting on a throne with the mu’fuckas who murked her. That ain’t you. You don’t want that. I know you. That nigga Carter has got you brainwashed, li’l mama. Just give me a week to remind you of who you are,” Murder bargained.

  “I know who I am,” Miamor replied. “I’m with Carter because I want to be. No brainwashing, no angles, I love him. Fuck a week. I’m not looking back to the past, Murder. You’re the past, and I’m leaving all of that shit behind. Now you either let me walk out of here or Carter will send his goons to get me, but either way I’m leaving. He’ll never stop looking for me, Murder, and you don’t know what I know. His reach in the streets is long. He’ll find me.”

  “It hasn’t been that long, Miamor. You know how I get down. The nigga bring smoke to my doorstep and I’ma leave him leaking on it,” Murder replied venomously. “Now go take a shower and clean yourself up. You try to run and I’ll rip that baby right out of your stomach.”

  Miamor blinked away her tears. “And that’s love? You came back here because you love me, right? Love don’t do shit like that, Murder.”

  “I love every piece of you, but I hate every part of him, including . . .” His words trailed off as he pointed to her stomach.

  Miamor knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t lying. He didn’t use scare tactics. If he said it, he meant it. Carter, please come for me, she thought. Miamor was superior to every nigga she had ever gone up against with the exception of Murder. He knew her too well for her to have the upper hand.

  “How could you, Mia? You were my li’l mama,” Murder asked. “Now you’re pregnant with this nigga bastard kid.”

  Miamor broke down, hearing his heartbreak and feeling heartbreak of her own as she thought of her fate. It was possible that she wouldn’t make it out of
this one alive. She gave him no response besides the sobs that racked her.

  “Get out of the bloody clothes. By the time you get out of the shower, I’ll have dinner for you and I’ll take care of this mess,” he said, pointing to the goon’s dead body. He kissed the top of her head, and she closed her eyes in despair as he exited the room.

  Miamor was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to hate Murder, but she couldn’t. She knew that he had been locked up for so long that she was all he remembered. His world had been on a standstill while hers had moved on. There was a time when she thought that she would never replace him, but upon meeting Carter, all of her doubts had gone out of the window. He was the greatest man she had ever known, and her loyalty was with him. Miamor just had to figure out how to get back to him in one piece.

  By the time Miamor emerged from the bathroom, the dead body was gone and Murder stood outside the bathroom door, waiting patiently for her. He held a shopping bag for her.

  “It’s not designer like what you’re used to, but it’ll do,” he said.

  Miamor held the cotton towel tightly around her body and took the bag from Murder. Murder tugged at the towel that was tucked snugly under her armpits.

  “Murder . . . don’t,” she said.

  He snatched the towel anyway and pulled it away from her, revealing her naked body. “Relax, li’l mama. I never had to take it,” Murder said.

  His hands explored her body as he slowly ran his hands over her stomach. She was perfectly sculpted, but her once flawless body was marred with scars. They showed the struggles she had endured at the hands of Mecca Diamond. Her baby bump was subtle and barely there, but Murder knew her so well that he knew that she was pregnant without her having to tell him. He noticed the slight weight in her face and the thickness around her hips and breasts.