The Last Chapter

the syringe out of her arm and forcefully threw it across the room in anger. He then grabbed Breeze by the face and lightly smacked her, trying to wake her up.

“Wake up, beautiful. It’s time to go,” he said as his heart ached. Seeing Breeze high was one of the worst things he could ever endure. He loved Breeze, and he refused to let her continue down the path of destruction.

“Breeze!” he called again.

“Hey, Zyir,” she said in a slurred voice, barely opening her eyes. She smiled goofily because the drug had her in a total daze, and her body was completely relaxed.

“Come on, baby,” he said as he picked her up and headed out the door. Zyir kissed Breeze on the forehead gently as she kept nodding uncontrollably.

“Open the door,” he ordered to Illiana. She rolled her eyes and got out to do as he requested.

Zyir slid Breeze into the back seat and then closed the door. Zyir immediately pulled out his gun and made his way to the stoop where the hustlers were posted.

“Who served her?” Zyir asked with an ice-grill expression on his face. He was extremely upset, and was about to show the youngsters how The Cartel got down. “Who?” he asked again after not getting an immediate response. The hustlers on the stoop knew that Zyir meant business, so it did not take long for the finger pointing to begin. Zyir saw that everyone, including Scoot, pointed out the guy who had sold the dope to Breeze. Zyir instantly grabbed the dude by the neck and put the gun in his mouth.

“I want everybody to listen and listen close,” Zyir yelled, trying to get everyone’s attention. Everyone on the block looked at Zyir as he dragged the young hustler to the middle of the street. “Nobody serves Breeze. Do you fuckin’ hear me? The Cartel runs this city, not y’all. You work for us!” he yelled, something that he rarely did. “If I hear about anybody giving her dope, this is what’s going to happen.”

Boom! A single shot rang through the air as the young hustler’s brains were blown all over the pavement. His body instantly went limp and dropped. Zyir released his grip and let him fall.

The entire block was stunned. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Zyir had just shut down the whole block with a single shot. Zyir wiped the blood off of his face and looked around, giving every single hustler direct eye contact. He sent a message that would be embedded in each one of their hearts forever.

Zyir sat with Breeze twenty-four hours a day for weeks as she kicked her habit cold turkey. It was so painful for him to watch her body go through withdrawal, but he knew that it was for the best. By giving her tough love, he was saving her from herself. She had not asked to be introduced to addiction, but she was allowing it to eat her alive. He knew that she was strong enough to overcome the monkey on her back; all he had to do was convince her of that. He had never thought he would see the day that she would be so strung out, and he had to remind himself daily that she did not choose this lifestyle; it had been forced upon her.

The more time he put in with Breeze, the more irritated Illiana became. Zyir didn’t have time to babysit her, however. His only focus was helping Breeze get better. He even missed out on money to be with her. Everything in his life was put on hold. Nothing mattered more than she did. This was not a battle that she could fight on her own, so he was going to walk with her and fight it for her every step of the way.

Nobody really understood the connection that he felt for her. All they saw was a black girl who had been lost to the game, but in her, Zyir saw so much more. He knew that the girl he loved was still somewhere inside of her. All he had to do was love her through her pain and help her get back to the beautiful young girl she used to be.

Breeze’s body went through hell and back. Zyir saw things come out of her that no man ever wanted to see, but he never turned his back on her. There were even days when she degraded herself. She had been so used to being used and abused that she offered to trade sex for drugs with Zyir. She had no clue how her words tore his heart out of his chest. All she knew was that she wanted her fix.

Zyir attributed everything to the heroin and took it all in, absorbing the pain every day in order to help her get better. Zyir did not care for many people, but for Breeze he would go to the end of the world and back. She had captured his heart and loyalty forever. He knew that she would never be the perfect girl. She was too jaded, too scarred to revert back completely, but as long as she was able to get clean, she would be perfect for him. That’s all that he could ask of her, and he was doing all in his power to ensure that she made it through.

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m the only fucking professional out of the bunch.”

– Robyn

Carter sat at his dining table as he stared in disbelief at the information in front of him. After hiring a private investigator, he had found out Miamor’s true profession. The truth was staring him in the face, and he finally understood why Mecca’s hatred for Miamor ran so deep. A part of him wondered if what they had was even real.

He refused to believe that she was playing him just to get to The Cartel. He had gotten inside her head, he had explored the space between her legs, and had learned to control her heart. The way he had loved her was rare. He had never given himself to a woman the way he had with Miamor. To think that it was all a lie was unfathomable.

Before him were pictures of the Murder Mamas, newspaper clippings from the crimes they committed, and an address where they could be found now. Carter’s P.I. had tracked them down in California. As the evidence of Miamor’s ruthlessness haunted him, he felt an overwhelming urge to speak with the members of her crew who were still standing. He remembered meeting them once at the club, but had no idea how dangerous the ladies were at the time. As he found out about Miamor’s life as a murderer for hire, he developed a newfound attraction to her. She was the best at what she did.

She could’ve trusted me with this secret, he thought.

The Murder Mamas’ track record was so brutal that he knew he was lucky to be alive. Even none of his own young gunners had the body count that Miamor and her crew had attained.

If I had known, I would have put her down with The Cartel, he thought, impressed and intrigued all at the same time. Miamor had truly been one of a kind, and he did not know how much so until now.

Through all the anger and confusion he felt, the love he had for her was still present. Despite the fact that she had played a vital part in the demise of his family, the spell she had cast on him was still too potent for him to shake her loose. Her spirit was with him. He was in love with a killer-a Murder Mama.

They could have been the power couple sitting at the top if she had just been honest with him. Her hatred for his family could have been resolved, her ongoing beef with Mecca settled, if only she had told him the truth.

She was ruthless, but she had bitten off more than she could chew when she became Mecca’s opposition, and as much as he wanted to, he could not blame Mecca for the decision he had made to put her down.

Carter finally understood that he was not the only one involved in a love affair with Miamor. Mecca had had his own relationship with her as well, but instead of exchanging whispers and kisses in the night, Mecca and Miamor exchanged hollow points and warfare. They had been enemies of the worst kind.

Mecca was right. Would she have killed me next? He had to know the answer, and the only way to find out was to talk to the people who had known her best.

He looked at the California address once more and hopped up. He had to see Robyn and Aries. They were the ones who could give him the answers he so desperately sought.

Carter cocked his gun to load a single bullet in his semi-automatic and removed the safety as he placed it on his hip before getting out of the car. He carefully approached the front door to Robyn and Aries’ place. Their good looks concealed their malicious intent, but now that Carter knew how they got down, he would not be caught slipping. He didn’t come to play games; he simply wanted answers. A conversation was all he wanted, and he