Miamor stood up and paced the room, her wobbly legs barely able to keep her up.
Carter sat up in the bed and his eyes instantly turned cold. He stood and put his hands on the wall as he lowered his head and absorbed her words.
“I belong to a group called the Murder Mamas. We’ve hit niggas from New York to the South. Ma’tee paid us to come at Mecca, but he ended up killing my sister, Anisa. I’ve been at him ever since, but he got to me first. He beat the shit out of me. All these cuts and bruises came from him, all because he knew who I was. He gave me a poisoned drink at your sister’s memorial, but I gave it to Taryn. I knew the drink Mecca had given me had something in it, and I gave it to her anyway. I was willing to do anything to get back at Mecca for taking my sister away. When I first met you, I didn’t know you were a part of The Cartel!” Miamor cried.
Carter was calm, as he used the wall for support. He was too calm for what she was telling him, and she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she still continued her confession.
“Carter, you have to believe me. If I had known that you were a part of it, I would have never fucked with you. I came to your brother’s funeral to kill Mecca. That’s when I found out who you were, but by then, it was too late. I had already fallen for you. I love you Carter, but there is something wrong with me inside. Killing is all I know. I’ve been doing it since I was twelve years old. You don’t know me! I’m a bitch! I’m a Murder Mama! I’m heartless and cold! I’m all of these things, except when I’m with you. You are the only person in my entire life who has ever taken my pain away!”
Carter clenched his teeth as he listened to Miamor’s story. The realization of who she really was hit him like a ton of bricks. The thousand lies that she had told him were a slap in the face. It was all too much for him to even comprehend. He could feel his anger rising as he thought of how he had trusted her. He had made the mistake of letting her get close. All this time, he had been sleeping with the enemy. She had been plotting on him while he had been investing his time and commitment into her. She had played him. He thought of the day he had seen her at Monroe’s funeral, and then the faces of his deceased loved ones popped into his mind. She had contributed to the madness, and he had allowed her to. Everything had gone down right underneath his nose. Mecca had tried to warn him about her treachery, but Carter had refused to see.
Miamor walked over to Young Carter. His silence was killing her. “Please, say something!” she begged.
Carter didn’t even feel himself react until it was too late.
His rage took over, and he slapped her with such force that it sent her flying to the ground. She instantly tasted the salty blood that oozed from her busted lip.
Carter stormed over to the nightstand where he had stored his gun. Miamor’s eyes grew large when she saw him approach her with it in his hands. He loaded the clip and cocked it back, then knelt down over her. With tears in his eyes, he grabbed her hand forcefully. “Take the gun, bitch!” he mumbled through clenched teeth as he held the barrel up to his chest while she gripped the handle. “You wanted to get back at The Cartel that bad? Do you know how many innocent people you’ve hurt? Pull the trigger, Miamor. I
Miamor lay beneath Carter with the gun in her shaky hands. “Carter, don’t do this!” she beseeched.
“Kill me, you grimy bitch! This is what you wanted. I told you I’d give you anything. You wanted this, so I’m giving it to you.” Carter was so livid that he was foaming at the mouth, and his grip was so tight on her hand that it felt like her bones would crush from the pressure.
Miamor had never let anybody test her or even speak to her in such a way. Carter was pulling her card, and her murderous instincts clicked back in slightly as she glared into his eyes. He was challenging her, calling her bluff, daring her to shoot him.
Miamor’s finger wrapped around the trigger, but when she looked into the eyes of the man she loved, she could not bring herself to finish what she had started. Too many things had changed. Her heart wasn’t as cold as it used to be. “I can’t!” she wept. “I can’t!”
Carter snatched the gun from her and put it to her head, pressing it point blank range as his finger danced on the hair trigger. Hatred and betrayal was in the air as he contemplated ending her life. She had peeled away at his outer layers, the same way that he had done to her. They had penetrated each other’s souls, which is why her treachery stung so much. He knew that he should kill her. She deserved to die, but not at his hands. He threw the gun across the room as he arose to his feet. “Get the fuck out,” he said calmly, but Miamor didn’t move. Instead, she rolled onto her side as she cried. She was paralyzed in her grief.
“I’m sorry!” she screamed.
“Bitch, get out!” Carter repeated. His voice roared throughout the suite, and he showed no mercy as he dragged Miamor across the hotel room floor, disregarding her already injured body.
“Carter, no! Please!” she yelled as she fought him. She was fighting to stay in his life. With all of the energy she had left, she was clinging to him because she knew that once she let go he would no longer be hers.
By the time he got her out of the suite, he was sweating and out of breath and she was curled up in the hallway. “What am I going to do?” she cried while looking up into his face.
He showed no emotion, no sympathy, no love as he turned on his heels and re-entered the room. He snatched her phone up then tossed it into the hallway beside her. “I don’t give a fuck what you do, Miamor,” he said, the tone of his voice revealing his disappointment. “I’m done. You have got five minutes to call a cab. If you’re not gone by then, I’m going to finish this, and unlike you, I
She could see the hatred in his eyes. There was nothing left to say. It was over, and he had tossed her out with nothing. He slammed the door in her face, closing the best chapter of her life.
Chapter Eighteen
Miamor had never felt so low as she sat in the hallway of the luxury hotel, pleading with Carter to forgive her. Her ego and principles were thrown out of the window. When it came to matters of the heart, she was willing to look foolish and willing to swallow her pride if it meant that Carter would be with her. She cried her heart out to him through the closed door, but it never opened. He had shut her out of his life, and she had to accept it. She was physically and emotionally spent as she stood to her feet. Using the wall to hold her up, she made her way to the elevator. Her hair was wild, her face stained with dried tears, and she wore nothing but a bathrobe as she made her way out of the hotel. Stares and whispers surrounded her as her bare feet carried her through the lobby.
“Excuse me, Miss,” the maitre d’hote of the establishment rushed over to her with two security guards in tow. “I received a call from the Presidential Suite. I’m going to have to escort you off of the premises.”
The security guards grabbed her arms and she snatched them away. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed, making an even bigger scene. She made it outside and walked as far as her feet would take her, but every step felt like a thousand. She was too fragile to make it on her own. She had exhausted all of her energy, and gave up as she fell to the ground to catch her breath, the hot pavement burning her skin. At this point, she felt hopeless. She had given up everything and had betrayed her girls trying to chase a dream. At least before she had them as her family. Now, all she had was herself.
Murder had sat in the car all night watching the hotel, waiting to see Miamor and Carter emerge. He was so close to her, and he wasn’t going anywhere until he brought her home, back to New York where she belonged. He cringed at the way Carter touched Miamor, and jealousy loomed over him like a dark cloud.
