Zyir and Carter were silent because they knew that they had just started a war with one of the deadliest cartels in North America.
In the meantime, Breeze was asleep in a hotel room, with Mecca present with her. Mecca was up looking out of the window with a gun in his hand. After giving him the news of the melee on their block, Carter had told him to check into a hotel downtown just to be safe. He knew that Illiana knew about their personal residences, and he didn’t want to take any chances.
Mecca looked at the gun in his hand and shook his head. He didn’t feel the same adrenaline rush that he once did when feeling the cold steel in his palms. Actually, it started to disgust him. Mecca was tired of selling drugs, tired of murders, and tired of The Cartel. He knew that if his family wasn’t a part of The Cartel, they would all be there with him and not dead.
He looked over at his sleeping beauty, his baby sister, and wanted more for her. He refused to lose her again.
Mecca’s mind ran wild as he began to think about religion, and it seemed as if every time he closed his eyes, he saw a person’s face that he had once murdered. Throughout his killing career, it never bothered him to look into the eyes of a person he killed, but now, it was crashing down on him like a ton of bricks.
Since Mecca was a young boy, he’d always wanted to be a gangster-nothing more, nothing less. But now he wanted to be just a regular man, a family man. His mind was clear since he hadn’t been using drugs or drinking, and he really wanted a change.
This new beef with the Mexicans was one that Mecca didn’t want to see. He knew the ramifications of a war, and he wasn’t willing to lose any more family over it. Mecca glanced at Breeze once again and then walked over to her and knelt beside the bed next to her. He did something that he had not done since he was a little boy. He began to pray.
Carter and Zyir entered the hotel from the back entrance, using the keycard that was provided for the guests. They stepped in and saw three Mexican men run by them with guns in their hands. Carter and Zyir quickly ducked back and out of sight as the men whizzed by them, not even noticing them.
“What the fuck?” Zyir whispered as he and Carter pulled out their guns. Carter had underestimated the Garza Cartel. He knew that they had come for blood.
“Breeze and Mecca are up there!” Carter said as he looked around the corner and saw that the three Mexicans were headed up the stairs.
“Let’s use the elevator,” Carter suggested as he cocked back his gun and flipped it off safety. Zyir and Carter flew to the elevator, hoping that they would reach the fifth floor before the Mexican goons did.
Carter hurriedly tapped the button in the elevator, trying to make the doors close faster, and Zyir immediately hit the camera that was in the top corner of the elevator, knowing that they were about to get into some shit. The door finally closed and they began to go up.
“Come on, come on, come on,” Zyir repeated as he stared at the numbers indicating what floor they were passing. They knew that they only had a small window of time to make it to the room before the Mexicans did.
“I wonder how many are here,” Carter said, believing that Felipe had sent more than three men to do the job.
“Don’t know, but I’m ready for whatever,” Zyir said bravely as he thought about his love, Breeze, who was in the room with Mecca.
They finally reached the fifth floor and-
“Where is the food?” Mecca asked, flicking through the channels as Breeze sat next to him in the bed.
“Just call Carter and tell him to bring us something on his way here,” Breeze said, not wanting to eat the nasty hotel food anyway.
“Cool,” Mecca agreed as he picked up his phone. “Damn, I don’t have any service.”
As soon as the words escaped his mouth, a knock on the door sounded.
“Room service,” a maid announced with a heavy Spanish accent.
“Thank God! Finally some food,” Breeze said as she sat upright and looked at the door.
Mecca got up and grabbed his pistol off of the bed, wanting to be cautious as he approached the door. He peeked through the peephole and was at ease when he saw that it was a maid with a platter in her hand. Mecca tucked his gun in his waistline and removed the chain lock that was on the door. He reached into his pocket and grabbed some money and opened the door.
As soon as the door opened, a Mexican man stepped into view with a sawed-off shotgun aimed directly at Mecca’s chest. Before Mecca could even react, the loud sound of the shotgun rang through the air. The blast struck Mecca in his sternum, causing him to fly back viciously.
Breeze was startled by the blast, and she screamed at the top of her lungs as she saw her brother get blown off of his feet.
Breeze screamed at the top of her lungs as she tried to scramble off of the bed and run for cover. The man ran in and grabbed Breeze by the hair and flung her violently across the room. He was speaking Spanish, so Breeze couldn’t understand him, but his body language and facial expression clearly stated that he hated her and wanted her dead.
He grabbed her by the throat, still speaking Spanish, and he sinisterly smirked as he put the gun to Breeze’s face. Boom! A loud shot rang throughout the hotel room, and blood and guts splattered all over Breeze’s face-but not blood of her own. It was the blood of the gunman.
She screamed hysterically as the man lay slumped on her with his face blown off. Mecca stood behind him with a smoking gun. He ripped open his shirt, revealing his bulletproof vest, something he never left home without.
He pushed the man off of Breeze and helped her up.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he held his chest. It was tender, sore, and felt like it had been hit with a bat swung by Barry Bonds.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Breeze answered as she hugged her brother tightly.
Mecca heard commotion in the hall and knew that there were more goons coming. He thought quickly and looked toward the window for an escape route.
“Come on,” he said as he pulled Breeze toward the window, knowing that his one gun couldn’t go up against whatever was about to come his way. Mecca, all of a sudden, heard shots ringing out and three bodies dropped, tumbling over one another. Mecca quickly pointed his gun at the door, ready to bust at whatever came through. He breathed heavily and stood in front of Breeze, willing to be her shield.
Carter and Zyir had just dropped the three Mexicans with their accurate shots, and they made their way to the room where they knew Mecca and Breeze were.
“Mecca!” Carter yelled as he ran down the hall with his gun in a firing position.
“In here!” he heard Mecca yell from the suite.
Zyir and Carter ran to the door, but looked back and noticed about ten more Mexicans coming from the staircase. Zyir and Carter quickly dipped into the room and closed the door, knowing that they only had seconds to think of something.
“Is Breeze okay?” Zyir asked as he ran to her and she hugged him tightly while still crying hysterically. “I got you, ma,” Zyir whispered in her ear as he rubbed her hair. That moment was short-lived because Zyir knew that they would be busting in at any moment.
“How many?” Mecca yelled as he pointed his gun at the door along with Carter, waiting for them to come in.
“Too many,” Zyir said as he shook his head.
“He’s right. We can’t win,” Carter said as he thought about how many goons he saw at the far end of the hall, heading their way.
“We have to jump. It’s the only way to make it out alive,” Zyir said as he slid the patio door open and looked down at the pool five stories below.
“Fuck we waiting for?” Mecca asked frantically while still aiming at the door.
