he ever be able to be with a woman of her beauty.
Breeze was so out of it that all she could do was lie there as the man had his way with her. It was something that she had gotten used to. She had never chosen to give herself away to any man. She didn’t know what it was like to feel a man’s gentle touch. Her womanhood was always taken away, and she was never in a position to say no.
Chapter Six
“Forever Miamor would sleep with the fishes.”
Murder arrived in Miami on a commercial flight with hatred in his heart. He soaked up all of the information from the Murder Mamas about The Cartel and Miamor’s worst enemy, Mecca. With a thirst for revenge and pictures of the entire Diamond family, he was ready to find what was left of Miamor and get at The Cartel. Murder’s hands never stopped shaking throughout the whole flight, not because of nervousness or fear, but because of the itch to get at whoever had brought pain to Miamor.
Murder demanded that Robyn and Aries stay in L.A., so that he could work the way he did best-alone, strategically, and uninterrupted. They all hoped desperately that Murder would find Miamor alive, but deep in all of their hearts, they knew what was to be found.
Murder got his bags and headed to the curb to catch a cab. He was headed to the exact address that was left inside the box with Miamor’s severed hand. Murder’s heart hurt every time he thought about the pain and agony that Mecca had brought upon his favorite girl, Miamor. He carefully studied the picture that Robyn and Aries had given him of the heads of The Cartel. He could pick Mecca’s face out of a sea of people. Although Murder had never seen Mecca face to face, he knew his every facial feature, and it was a face that would be etched in his mind forever.
Every time Murder thought about Miamor’s angelic smile, he had to fight back tears while wishing she was in his arms. It was a love that was unexplainable. Although Miamor looked at Murder as a big brother, Murder looked at Miamor as much more. He knew that she was the love of his life, and he would never be able to win her over, because deep in his heart, he knew she was dead.
He pulled out a picture of Mecca that Miamor had taken while she was preparing to hit him, and he studied it once more. Murder’s hands began to shake as he clenched his teeth so tightly that it seemed as if he would chip a tooth. Just as a driver pulled up on him, he stuck the photo in his inner jacket pocket and caught a cab to his hotel.
Mecca cruised through the Miami streets unable to focus on the road because he kept checking his rearview mirror. He suspected that the tinted minivan was following him for the past few blocks. “What the hell?” Mecca whispered as he glanced in the mirror again and saw that the van had made the same right turn that he did. Mecca, tired of playing the game of cat and mouse, reached under his seat to retrieve his automatic handgun. He smoothly placed it on his lap as he approached the upcoming yellow traffic light.
“Niggas trying to catch me slipping? Not today,” he stated as he eased up to the light and made a complete stop. The van pulled up behind him, and that was when Mecca clicked on. His street instincts took over, and he acted on impulse. He threw the car into park and quickly hopped out of the car, gun in hand.
“Why the fuck are you following me?” Mecca yelled. He had his gun gripped tightly, holding it like a professional marksmen, almost like a cop would do. Mecca quickly crept up to the car, not giving the driver time to make a move. When Mecca got a glimpse of the driver, he instantly felt silly.
A pregnant, blonde white woman was the only person in the car. She quickly threw both of her hands up and froze in utter terror as a pool of tears filled her eyes. She tried to scream, but Mecca was in her grill so quickly that she had no time to let out a sound. He waved the gun in her face through the open driver’s side window.
Mecca saw the terrified look in the woman’s face and instantly felt guilty. He knew that his nerves were making him reckless, and he made stupid choices when he was reckless. It was something that he was trying to change. His paranoia eased up.
“Sorry, ma,” Mecca said as he lowered his gun and took a deep breath. “You can go. I thought you were someone else,” Mecca explained as he tried to give the woman a slight grin to ease the tension.
The woman still had her hands up and remained fearful as she stared into the eyes of a killer.
Mecca dropped his head and shook it from side to side as he lightly chuckled to himself.
He began to think about the shadow of Estes that loomed over him. He knew that he would never be at peace until the beef with Estes was settled. He had to go to Estes and ask for his forgiveness. If he didn’t, Mecca would always have to look over his shoulders, wondering when one of his grandfather’s henchmen would kill him for what he had done to his twin brother.
Just as Mecca took the second step, he heard a familiar noise, which was that of a gun jamming. He quickly swung around and fired a bullet straight through the woman’s neck. Mecca had underestimated Estes. He had killers on his team from all over, and the woman who he had thought was so innocent was really there to murder him.
She dropped the chrome.45 as her hands instinctively grabbed her neck. Blood gushed out of the hole like a faucet.
Mecca quickly stepped closer and let off another round, that time catching her in the forehead. Her head jerked back and she stared into space. Dead on impact.
Enraged, he lifted her shirt to reveal her bulging belly, only to find a pillow stuffed underneath. Estes was pulling out all the stops in the hunt for Mecca’s head.
Mecca breathed hard as he held the gun tightly. He looked down and saw the gun in her lap. He knew that Estes’ hired guns rarely missed, and if her gun had not jammed, he would be a dead man. Mecca gave her another shot to the chest for good measure as his temper flared from the rage he felt.
He was tired of running. He couldn’t beef out with Estes. His grandfather’s reach was too far, and Mecca knew that eventually he would lose. He paused, staring at her, knowing that he had almost been caught slipping.
“This shit has got to stop!” he yelled in frustration as he tucked his gun in his waistline and ran to his car, leaving the woman slumped in her seat.
Mecca sped off, filling the air with the sound of screeching tires. He knew exactly what he had to do in order to end the madness.
Murder stood at the front desk as he checked into the five-star hotel in Ft. Lauderdale. He wanted to observe from afar, and decided to stay in a suburban hotel instead of directly in the city, so that he could remain low key.
“Do I have a package waiting for me?” Murder asked as he gave the desk clerk a smile.
“Um, I don’t know. Let me check,” the young blonde said as she returned the smile to Murder. The desk clerk looked behind the counter and smiled as she saw the FedEx box addressed to the occupant of room 403, which was Murder’s suite.
“Here we go, sir. It was dropped off this morning for a… Mr. M,” she said as she glanced oddly at the box.
“Yeah, that’s me. Thanks,” he said as he slid his room key off the counter and grabbed the box. He headed for the elevators and hurried up to his suite.
Moments later, Murder ripped open the neatly packed box, retrieving two chrome 9 mm guns that Aries had sent to him. He loaded the clips and pulled out the piece of paper that had the address on it. He immediately placed the twin millies on his hip and headed out the door.
