instincts told him that something was wrong.
Mecca saw the look in Zyir’s eyes, and knew that something was wrong. “Where is she?” Mecca shouted as he looked down at Ma’tee, gripping him by his dreadlocks.
“In… the… basement,” Ma’tee mumbled as blood dripped from his head.
“She’s in the basement!” Mecca yelled just before he sent a shotgun blast through Ma’tee’s chest, killing him on contact.
Carter rushed to the front, and Mecca told him that she was in the basement. They all rushed to the back of the house and tried to open the basement door, but it was secured with five dead bolts.
“Stand back!” Carter said as he pointed his gun at the lock. He let of five rounds, breaking each lock with each bullet he fired.
“I love you, Poppa. I love you, Mama. I love you, Mecca. I love you, Monroe. I love you, Uncle Polo. I love you, Carter,” Breeze whispered, giving each one of her loved ones a personal and final good-bye. She put her hand over her heart and wished that Zyir would’ve come and saved her. She wished that when she called, she could have gotten the chance to let him know exactly where she was, but she didn’t, and now she was about to make her grand exit from her hell on earth. “I love you, Zyir,” she added just before she prepared to take her own life.
She heard gunshots coming from upstairs, but she was so focused on what she was about to do that she paid them no mind. Breeze kicked the chair from underneath her and her body immediately dropped and dangled from the pipes. She began to squirm and hold her neck. The kiss of death gripped at her body. The pain was so great that she almost regretted her decision, but she would rather face a few moments of it then a lifetime of grief in the shackles of Ma’tee. The pressure building in her head was so great that she began to see stars. Each second was agonizingly slow as her lungs begged her to inhale. The strength of human will caused her to grab at the belt to avoid the suffocation. Her nails broke from grabbing at the leather, and she kicked wildly as the pulse in her head became audible in her own ears. She could hear her heartbeat fading, and just as she was on the brink of unconsciousness, she heard Zyir calling her name.
“Breeze! I’m coming!” Zyir’s voice came from upstairs.
“Breeze!” Zyir yelled again as he tried to kick the door down. She jerked and contorted her body, trying to release herself, but it didn’t work. Frantic and out of air, she grabbed at the belt around her neck, scratching her skin as she attempted to create some slack in the belt. Her world became gray, and her eyes felt like they would pop out of her skull as she put the last bit of strength she had into freeing herself. Her efforts were in vain. It was too late. She was already in the Grim Reaper’s hands, and there was nothing she could do. She tried to yell for Zyir, but her airway was cut off. She only could let out small grunts. Her grunts were too low for anyone to hear, and she felt herself slipping away. She couldn’t take it anymore, and she finally stopped struggling as life left her body.
Zyir pushed the door open and was the first to head down the stairs. He held his gun in front of him as he crept down the stairs, not knowing who was down there. Carter and Mecca followed closely behind him. Zyir got to the bottom step and his heart broke in two at the sight before him. Breeze was swinging from a ceiling pipe, swinging slowly from left to right. He quickly dropped his gun and ran over to her lifeless body.
“Breeze! Nooo!” he yelled as he held her up by her legs trying to stop her from choking, but it was far too late; she was already gone.
Carter saw Zyir holding Breeze and quickly ran over and picked up the chair so he could stand on it and untie her. His hands shook as he looked at Breeze’s limp body.
Mecca was still by the stairs, frozen in heartache. He dropped to his knees and silently cried as he watched his sister’s body drop into Zyir’s arms. Zyir had never mourned anything or anyone in his life, but as he sat with Breeze in his arms, he rubbed her face as tears flowed down his cheeks. He kissed the top of her head over and over again as he rocked her back and forth while whispering her name again and again. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like this!” he whispered into her ear. “Not like this!” he repeated as he wept over her. He looked down at the only girl who had ever stolen his heart and regretted the day he had ever met her. He had never felt a pain so great before she had entered his life. “I’m so sorry, Breeze. This is all my fault,” he whispered as he closed his eyes tightly and tried to get the image of her suicide out of his brain.
“Zy,” Carter began. He inched closer to Zyir. “Let her go, fam. This ain’t on you. Just hand her to me,” Carter instructed, seeing that his protege's grief was as great as his own.
“Don’t take her from me, man, not yet. Just don’t touch her!” Zyir spoke in a low tone. “She needed me. She was hopeless and she killed herself because I wasn’t there.” Zyir sat with Breeze for an hour before Carter could convince him that it was time for them to depart. Zyir even tried to give Breeze CPR. They all knew that it was useless, but Zyir wouldn’t stop until he tried everything to bring her back. She held the key to his heart, and now that she was gone, it would be locked forever. The beautiful Breeze Diamond was dead.
Chapter Ten
All with tears in their eyes, Mecca, Carter and Zyir walked down the dirt path that led to their awaiting helicopter. They had just climbed down the mountain, none of them saying anything to each other on their way down. Breeze’s limp, lifeless body was in Zyir’s arms as he carried her with strength, determined to hold her upright and comfortable, even though it was in vain.
The town’s patrons followed as they saw Zyir carrying the dead body. It looked as if a parade was going on, with Carter, Zyir, and Mecca leading the pack.
Mecca held his gun out in the open as he walked in broad daylight, with onlookers looking at them in disbelief. With tears flowing, he promised himself that anyone he saw that resembled a Haitian would die in honor of his hatred for Ma’tee. Mecca was at a point where he didn’t give a fuck about human life anymore. He was already ruthless, but he had crossed the line, graduating to psychotic. He just wanted somebody to pay for all the grief that Ma’tee and his Haitian mob had caused his family. It seemed as if every Haitian resembled Ma’tee, and Mecca wanted vengeance.
He saw a spectator with a head full of dreads on the side of the road, along with the crowd. Mecca was going all out in tribute to Breeze.
He glanced at her body, and the sight of the red belt marks around her neck made him sick to his stomach. That sight was the most hurtful thing he had ever seen. He knew that Breeze loved herself too much to kill herself. For her to commit suicide, life had to be unbearable. This thought infuriated Mecca and pushed him to his boiling point. He looked back at the dread head and let him have it. Mecca pointed and fired, catching him in the chest. Although the man had no association with Ma’tee and posed no harm, Mecca didn’t care. He was borderline insane at that point. As the thunderous sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, people began to scream in horror and run for cover as Mecca looked for any other Haitian that even resembled Ma’tee.
The gunshots didn’t bother Carter or Zyir. Usually they would try to tame Mecca, but this time they let his rage flow uninhibited. Neither of them even flinched as Mecca let off round after round, while never stopping his slow pace as they walked. They knew that Mecca was creating therapy for himself in some sort of sick way. Who were they to tell him how to grieve? They were both heartbroken, and the only thing on their minds was getting Breeze back to the States for a proper burial.
Zyir cried silently and kissed Breeze on the forehead while she was in his arms. “I love you,” he repeatedly whispered to her as he continued down the trail.
Mecca continued to shoot calmly, with no expression on his face. People were yelling in terror and scattered
