She was in desperate need of medical attention, sustaining not only injuries from the quake, but also injuries from being raped by Ma’tee. She was physically, psychologically, and emotionally troubled, but as she looked around her, she realized that that was not only her story, but the story of so many others as well.
There was no food, no water, no relief whatsoever, and Haitian citizens were beginning to get restless. Breeze watched as gangs of individuals looted whatever places were still standing in attempts to find supplies and food. The scarcity of resources was making everyone desperate, and as Breeze noticed a fruit truck being looted, she could not stop herself from following suit. The hunger pangs shooting through her stomach justified her actions as she ran over to the truck and pushed her way to the front to grab her share. After filling her hands with four large oranges, she attempted to run, but was stopped by a woman who was fighting to snatch the fruit from Breeze.
“No,” Breeze protested as she pushed the woman off of her violently. She ran away from the scene and found an empty cot near the safety site. She collapsed as she tore open the fruit and sucked the juices from the inside. She resembled an animal as she ate ravenously, keeping her eyes up as she guarded the only meal she had received in days.
Her heart tore in half when she saw a little girl eyeing her desperately. Breeze knew that her soul had disappeared when she shouted, “What the hell are you looking at? I don’t have anything for you!”
It was then that she realized that Ma’tee really had turned her soul black. Before landing in his company, she had been selfless and giving. Even amongst the worst of predicaments Breeze had always maintained a good heart.
Guilt plagued her as she looked down at the three other pieces of fruit she had stolen. “Here,” she said to the small child as she held out an orange for the girl. The little girl’s eyes lit up as she thankfully took the fruit.
They sat eating the meager meal together as if it would be their last. Breeze did not know what her next move would be. Waiting would be like torture, but she had no other choice. She didn’t know if she was waiting to live or waiting to die; she only hoped that a resolution would eventually come.
Chapter Three
“The connect ain’t fucking with us because we got that federal eye in the sky on us.”
Mecca sat back in the large meeting room of the Diamond family mansion. Pretty soon it would belong to someone else. Mecca had put the beautiful property up for sale. It was too hot, and now it was time to rebuild the Diamond legacy somewhere else. Everything had been cleared out except for this one room.
He closed his eyes as his mind drifted back to the days when his father used to hold court for his head lieutenants in that very space. It seemed that his father had run things so smoothly. The Cartel of today was a far cry from the organized crime family his father had started. Now everything around them was chaos, and with Young Carter in jail, Mecca was unsure if he could fill the shoes of the leader and effectively run The Cartel.
It was no longer a family operation. Only one Diamond was left standing, and although Carter was his half- brother, it wasn’t the same. They had suffered too many casualties, and loyalty was a rarity nowadays. His father had ruled with love, whereas now Carter, Mecca, and Zyir were holding down their spot in the streets with fear.
With the spotlight of the feds shining on them, nobody wanted to deal to closely with The Cartel. The streets were talking, and word was out that Carter just might lose his case. Niggas from the bottom to the top were shook, including their coke supplier.
The sound of the foyer door opening snapped him out of his reverie, and he stood to welcome Zyir.
“What’s good, fam?” Zyir greeted as he embraced Mecca briefly.
“You tell me. How’s that paper looking?” Mecca asked.
As The Cartel’s most trusted lieutenant, Zyir’s ear was glued to the street. There was nothing that got by him. Mecca had been forced to lay low because of his beef with Emilio Estes, so it was up to Zyir to ensure that their presence remained known in the streets.
“Shit is slow. Carter’s case got everybody running scared. The connect ain’t fucking with us because we got that federal eye in the sky on us, nah mean?”
“What about the niggas that owe us money?” Mecca asked irritably. It seemed as if everything they had built was now on the downfall.
“Oh, I got that cake… believe that. Ain’t nobody skipping out on the bill, but nobody’s re-upping. It’s like niggas is cutting ties. Nobody wants to be associated with a sinking ship. Niggas only loyal when the getting is good. I mean, we still got a few men who standing tall, but I ain’t gon’ lie. Shit ain’t sweet,” Zyir informed. “With everything seized, that shoebox money running real low. Carter’s lawyer expecting another payment today, and even my stash is hurting.”
Mecca knew that things would get tight for everybody with Carter locked up. The government had frozen all of their legitimate accounts; even Diamond Realty profits could not be touched until a resolution to Carter’s case was reached. Everyone, including Mecca, was living temporarily off of whatever money had flown under the radar; but random money that had been stashed in safes wasn’t enough for men who spent it as if it grew on trees. Between the two of them, they had a little over a million dollars, but with Carter’s case eating into their finances and a paranoid cocaine connection, that large sum of petty cash was dwindling by the day.
“What time do you have to meet the lawyers?” Mecca asked.
“In about an hour. After that, I plan on checking in with Carter. I need to let him know what’s going on, and he’s been asking me to check for his chick, Miamor,” Zyir replied.
“Tell him to stop looking,” Mecca stated coldly.
“What?” Zyir questioned. “You know he ain’t gonna stop looking for her. That’s his bitch.”
Mecca removed the scowl from his face and replied, “I heard she left town, so tell him to stop worrying about a bitch. We gotta keep his mind right so he can beat this case.”
Overwhelmed and worried about the state of his family’s empire, Mecca sighed. “I’ll drop that payment off to the lawyer. You holla at Carter. Let him know what’s been going on. See what he want us to do to stay afloat.”
As Mecca watched Zyir leave, he collapsed back into his father’s chair. The throne that he had sat on for many years seemed too big for Mecca, the responsibilities of heading The Cartel too daunting for a hothead like Mecca. Mecca was built to be in the game. He was a goon, a killer, and his natural born hustle was innate, but being the leader had never been his forte. That role had better suited his twin brother, Money.
The thought of Monroe brought tears to his eyes. He had hardened himself to insanity after he had murdered his brother, but the extreme guilt that still plagued him over his actions always broke him down. On the rare moments when he was alone and had time to reflect, he remembered that fateful night, and he mourned the lost of his other half. Monroe was his only weakness-and his murder was a secret that Mecca would take to his grave.
Zyir sat across from Carter, six inches of glass separating them from one another, and Zyir felt a sense of despair on behalf of his mentor. Carter was his brother, and in a way, the only father figure that Zyir had ever had. It pained Zyir to see him confined, his usual designer threads replaced by an orange jumpsuit.
Carter had taught Zyir everything he knew about the game. Carter had groomed him for this exact moment because he understood that the game did not last forever, and once he met his downfall, he was confident that Zyir would be able to take his place.
“How you holding up?” Zyir asked as he gripped the telephone, obviously uncomfortable within the confines of the federal penitentiary. There was something about being behind those walls that terrified Zyir, despite the fact that his own freedom wasn’t at risk.
“Wipe that sad look off your face, li’l nigga. You look like you’re standing over my casket or something,” Carter joked charismatically while smirking.
