The Cartel Deluxe Edition Read online

  Carter passed Money the cup and looked around to make sure their mother wasn’t around. “Take a sip of that,” he said.

  Money looked at the cup as if he was scared to take a sip.

  Mecca noticed his brother’s uneasiness and grabbed the cup from him. He took a gigantic gulp of the liquor, and a burning sensation rushed down his throat. It took all of his willpower not to spit it out. His face twisted up as he put one hand on his chest, hoping that the burn would go away.

  Polo noticed his expression and laughed loudly. “That’ll put some hair on ya chest, nephew!” he said in between laughs.

  Carter joined him in laughter as he watched his other son take the cup and take a moderate sip. Money’s face didn’t change its expression. He took the gulp like a man.

  Money handed the cup back to his father and stood there with his chest out, as if he was trying to prove that he was a man. Mecca followed suit.

  “Why were you two eavesdropping on Poppa?” Carter playfully hit both of his sons in the chest.

  Money shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “I don’t know.”

  Mecca looked around the table, seeing nothing but hustlers and killers. He then looked at his father, who sat at the forefront of them, and a smile spread across his face. “Poppa, I want to be just like you. I wanna be a gangster,” Mecca said as he stepped in front of his brother.

  One of the hustlers at the table chuckled as he looked at Mecca. “Li’l man got hustle in him. That’s a gangster in the making right there,” the man said.

  Carter shot a look at the man that said a thousand words. If looks could kill, the man would’ve been circled in chalk. “No, my son will never be that. Watch ya mouth, fam,” Carter stated firmly as he focused his attention back on Mecca. “Look, sons, you are better than this. This game chose us, we didn’t choose the game. You got the game twisted. I do this, so you don’t have to,” Carter said, as a somber feeling came over him. It hurt his heart to hear Mecca say that he wanted to be a gangster like him.

  “Let me show you two something,” Carter said before he looked at his henchmen that sat at the long red oak table. “How many of you have lost someone close to you because of this drug game?

  Slowly everyone at the table raised their hands, to help Carter prove a point.

  “How many of you go to bed with a pistol under your pillow?” Carter asked. “And how many of you want to get out of the game?”

  Mecca and Money looked at everyone in the room holding up their hands, and Carter’s point was proven.

  “Do you two understand, this game . . . is not a game?”

  Mecca and Money nodded their heads, understanding the lesson that their father had just sprinkled them with.

  “Take another sip of this and head to bed.” Carter smiled and handed Money the cup. After the boys took a small sip of the drink, he grabbed both of their heads at the same time and kissed them on top of it. “Don’t tell your mother,” he whispered to them just before they exited the conference room.

  Although Carter had explained to them the cons of the street life, the allure of the game was too powerful, and Mecca and Money wanted in. They just had to wait their turn.

  Breeze stood at her balcony, totally astounded by the view, and stared into the stars. Her balcony hovered over their small lake and faced their gigantic backyard. The Diamond residence was immaculate. They had just moved there, and it was a big jump from the dilapidated projects of Dade County. Breeze’s twelve-year-old eyes were lost in the stars as her mother stood behind her and brushed her long hair. This was a ritual they did every night, and Taryn used this time to bond with her daughter.

  “Breeze, what’s wrong, baby? Lately you haven’t been saying much,” Taryn said as she continued to stroke her daughter’s hair.

  Breeze took her time before she spoke. Her father had taught her to always think about what to say before saying it. “I just miss back home. I don’t like it out here. None of my friends are out here. I hate it in South Beach, Mommy.” Breeze’s eyes got teary.

  “I know it’s hard to cope with the sudden change, Breeze, but your father is a very important man, and it wasn’t safe for us to stay in Dade. He did what was best for the family,” Taryn answered, knowing exactly how Breeze felt. She herself had been a daughter of a kingpin, so she knew what it was like to be sheltered because of a father’s notoriety.

  “I just don’t get it. Everybody loved Poppa in the old neighborhood. Why would we have to move?”

  When it came to his baby girl, Carter held back nothing. He answered any question she asked him truthfully, wanting to give her the game, so another boy couldn’t game her. She knew her father was a drug dealer, but in her eyes he was the greatest man to walk the earth. She saw how he treated her mother with respect at all times. She witnessed him put his family before himself countless times and admired that. She wanted her husband to be just like her daddy.

  “I know exactly how you feel. You’re too young to understand right now, Breeze. Just be grateful that you have all of this. Most women will go through their whole life and never have the things you already have.”

  I understand. I know what’s going on. I know Daddy is the dopeman. I know more than you think I know. Breeze went into her room and flopped down on her canopy-style bed. Tears rolled down her cheek as she curled up on her pillow. She missed her old home so badly. She just wanted to be a regular around-the-way girl.

  Taryn, her white silk Dolce and Gabbana nightgown dragging on the floor as she went to her daughter’s side, slowly entered the room and saw that the sudden change really was bothering her only daughter. She sat on the bed and began to rub Breeze’s back. “I know exactly how you feel, Breeze. I remember when I was your age and was going through the same dilemma. My father, your grandfather, was an important man also. I had it much worse. It took the murder of your uncle for my father to move out the hood. Your father is just being cautious. If anything ever happened to you or your brothers, our hearts would break. He’s just protecting you.” Taryn reminisced about her deceased brother, who died when she was only ten. He was only fifteen years old when he was kidnapped and killed while her father was in a drug war.

  “I know that we have to live like this, but it’s just not fair. I feel like I don’t belong here. All the girls at school look at me funny because I’m mixed, and they whisper bad things about me. I try to ignore them, but it still hurts my feelings.”

  “Girl, females are going to hate, regardless. That’s how you know you’re that bitch.” Taryn smiled and squinted her nose.

  Breeze couldn’t help smiling at her mother’s comment. She looked at how beautiful her mother was, and her comment made her look at things differently. Maybe they do look at me enviously, she thought.

  Before Breeze could say anything in response, Carter cleared his throat, startling them. He looked at how gorgeous the two main women in his life were. He suavely leaned against the doorway with his arms folded. “What are you guys smiling at?” He walked toward them.

  “Nothing, baby.” Taryn smiled and winked at Breeze. “Just girl stuff.”

  Carter bent over and kissed Taryn and then kissed Breeze on top of the head.

  Taryn knew that Carter had come to tuck Breeze in, as he did every night, and decided to leave them alone. “I’ll be in bed,” she whispered to him. “Goodnight, baby,” she said to Breeze as she tapped her leg. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mommy.”

  Taryn strolled out of the room, her stilettos clicking against the marble floor as she made her way out. Taryn would never get caught without her heels on. Nightgown and all, she always looked the part, playing her role as the queen of her husband’s empire. She was wifey, there was no doubt about that.

  Carter stared at his wife as she walked away and then turned his attention back to Breeze. “Hey, baby girl.” He sat next to her.

  “Hey, Poppa.” Breeze sat up and focused on her father.

  “How was school today?”
Carter asked as he rubbed her hair.

  “It was okay, I guess.”

  “Breeze, you know I know when you’re lying. Tell Poppa what’s going on.”

  “I just miss my friends. The people at my school are so funny-acting. I wish we could move back home.” Breeze dropped her head.

  Carter placed his finger under her chin and slowly raised her head. He looked into his daughter’s green eyes and smiled. “Baby girl, don’t worry about that. Everything takes time. They will come around eventually. I tell you what”—Carter stood up and smoothly put his hands in his $400 Armani slacks—“Why don’t you call up some of your friends and tell them you’re having a sleepover. You can invite as many of them as you want. I’ll have a limo pick up each girl. Would you like that?”

  Breeze’s eyes lit up, and she gave him the biggest smile ever. “Yes! Thank you, Poppa,” she said as she leapt into her arms.

  Carter had promised himself that he wouldn’t let outsiders enter his new home, but he had a weak spot for Breeze. She was his only daughter, and he spoiled her more than he did his twin boys.

  “What about boys?” Breeze looked at her father. “Can I invite them too?”

  His smile quickly turned into a frown as he looked at Breeze like she was insane.

  “Gotcha!” she said as she broke out into laughter.

  “Baby, don’t do that,” he said, joining her in laughter. “You almost gave this old man a heart attack.” Although Breeze was joking around, he knew that the day when she would be serious was soon to come. A day that he would dread.

  Chapter Two

  “There is strength in numbers, and we will get through this as a family.”

  —Polo

  Polo took a deep breath as he pulled into the South Beach, one of the many suburbs of Miami. As he looked around at the perfectly landscaped lawns and the children playing carelessly in the streets, he realized why Carter had moved his family so far away from the hood. With its gated community and million-dollar structures, it seemed as if it were a million miles away from the grit of the ghetto. Carter, positive that the upscale environment of South Beach would protect his household from the harsh reality that the street life had to offer, had told him that the move would be good for his family, but he was wrong. Now Polo was forced to bury his man.

  Polo and Carter had known each other since they were young and hardheaded coming up in the trenches of Dade County. They quickly formed a brotherly bond as they took over the streets and inevitably entered the drug game. The Cartel was what they were labeled, a notorious, criminal-minded organization that was willing to stay on top by any means necessary. Carter and Polo had put in work for many years and worked hard to surround themselves with thoroughbreds that respected the hustle of the streets as much as they did. They earned money, power, and respect.

  That is, until the Haitians from Little Haiti discovered the money that was being made and tried to muscle them out of town.

  Carter’s demise proved to Polo that the Haitians weren’t to be taken lightly. He just hated that it took the death of their leader to figure that out. Nobody was untouchable. Now he had a nagging pain in his heart, and the stress of retaliation on his brain, but he knew that his hurt didn’t compare to that of Carter’s family.

  When he pulled into the driveway to the ten-room, 7,000 square foot home, he prepared himself for the heartache that he was about to encounter. Polo personally made sure that Carter’s wife and children were taken care of. He knew that they would be okay financially, but he was determined to ensure their safety. No expense was spared when it came to the security of their family. There were about ten armed henchmen stationed outside of the house, and he acknowledged them with a nod as he passed by and walked into the Diamond home.

  “Unc Po.” Mecca slapped hands with his father’s best friend.

  Polo could tell that Carter’s death was weighing heavily on his heart by the sad look in Mecca’s eyes. Polo then turned to Monroe and pulled him near as well. He held them close, his arms wrapped around their shoulders. All three men had their heads down.

  Polo told them, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it’s gon’ be all right, you hear me?”

  Tears formed in Money’s eyes. He nodded his head, praying that his Uncle Polo was right.

  Polo whispered in their ears, “You both have to be strong for your mother and Breeze. This is gon’ hit them the hardest. You know how protective your father was of them. It’s time to step up to the plate, twins. You got to pull your family back together.”

  Both boys nodded in agreement as they quickly wiped the tears from the eyes. Having been trained by their father to never show emotion, they knew that to cry was to show weakness,

  “Where are your mother and sister?”

  “They’re still upstairs,” Money stated.

  Polo ascended the steps two at a time. He approached the bodyguard that he had hired to stand by Taryn’s side. “Fuck you doing?” he whispered harshly.

  The bodyguard quickly snapped his cell phone shut, but before he could put it safely in his pocket, Polo slapped it out of his hands.

  “Do I fucking pay you to talk on your cell phone?” Polo pointed his finger in the man’s face. It didn’t matter that he was only five foot eight, and that the bodyguard was 270 pounds of pure muscle. “How the fuck you supposed to protect anybody when you’re focused on your fuckin’ phone? As a matter of fact, get your ass out of here. Put somebody on this job that want to make this money, you pussy!”

  The man didn’t even protest as Polo lifted his Steve Madden and kicked him in the ass toward the staircase. He looked over the landing and yelled, “Mecca, show that mu’fucka the door and bring one of them niggas up that take this shit seriously.” Polo fixed his clothes and wiped himself down before he knocked lightly on Taryn’s door.

  “Come in,” she called out. “It’s open.”

  Taryn looked as beautiful as ever standing in front of the full-length mirror in her white-on-white Dolce suit that fit nicely around her slim frame, the skirt stopping directly below her knee and hugging her womanly shape. Her neck was framed with rare black pearls that matched the pearl set that clung to her ears. Her long, layered hair was pulled back into a sophisticated bun. She spared herself of applying makeup because she knew that eventually her tears would ruin it anyway. Her natural beauty was enough to take Ms. America’s crown, and her Dominican features made her look more like a mature model than a mother of three.

  “Taryn, it’s time to go,” Polo stated as he stood in her doorway.

  She nodded her head and closed her eyes as she said a silent prayer to God. Please give me the strength to get through this for my children. They are all that I have left. Take my husband into grace and take care of him until we meet again. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

  She walked out of the room and down the hallway to her daughter’s room. “Breeze,” she said as she opened the door. “It’s time.”

  “I don’t think that I can do this,” Breeze stated, tears running down her cheeks. It was obvious that she had been crying for hours, because her eyes were red and swollen. The distress from her father’s murder was written all over her young face. It was almost as if her legs gave out from underneath her, because she fell onto the bed and put her head in her hands.

  Taryn and Polo rushed to her side. Polo knew that Breeze would take her father’s death the hardest. His only daughter, she was his pride and joy, and he had treated her like a princess since the day she was born. Breeze could do no wrong in his eyes, and they had shared a special connection all her life.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone,” Breeze stated. She felt as if the life was being squeezed out of her. “I can’t do this, Uncle Po.” She dreaded putting her father to rest. Never in her nineteen years had she felt a pain so great.

  Taryn embraced her daughter as they sat side by side, cheek to cheek. “I know that you can’t do this, but we ca
n,” she stated. “There is strength in numbers, and we will get through this as a family.”

  Polo was speechless as Taryn’s words moved him. It was then that he realized that Carter was truly a lucky man to have a woman such as her by his side. He left the room and descended the steps. He waited in the foyer with Mecca and Monroe, and when the two women came down the steps, they all walked out of the house together.

  The limo ride was silent as each member of the family tried to wrap their minds around the death of their patriarch. He was the one who protected them, fed them, clothed them, loved them, made all of their decisions. He was their educator and best friend, so without him, they all felt lost.

  Dear Carter,

  I know that you do not know me, but I know you very well. You are my husband’s son. I have thought about you countless times. If you are anything like your father, I can picture your dark chocolate skin, strong jawbone, and wide, soul-searching eyes. I wish that I could have written you under better circumstances, but I am not contacting you to deliver good news. My husband, your father, has left this earth. He was killed, and although you do not know him, I wanted to give you the chance to say your good-byes. His funeral will be held Saturday June Third, 2008. I hope that you will join us in celebrating his life. Everyone is expected to dress in white attire. He would not want us to mourn his death, but to come together as a family and appreciate his life. I know that is how he would have wanted to go out.

  Sincerely, Taryn Diamond

  Carter folded the letter up and put it in the pocket of his Armani suit jacket. He had received the letter a week ago and was debating whether or not he should actually go to his father’s funeral. He had never known his father, never even heard his voice.

  Why am I here? he thought in confusion as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His designer suit was tailored specifically to his six-foot frame, and his broad, strong shoulders held the material nicely. A small gold chain hung around his neck, displaying a small gold cross.