The Demise (4 page)

Monroe and Aries froze because they knew how close she was to making good on her promise. She was a ticking time bomb, and the one thing that could set her off was the thought of losing Carter.

The room was silent as the doctor worked with shaky hands. “I-I-I,” he stuttered, and then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I could work much better if you would please take the gun away from my head,” he said nervously.

“Miamor,” Carter managed to say. He lifted his hand for her to grab, and she lowered her gun. She knelt on the floor beside the bed as she held on tightly to him.

“I fucked up so bad this time,” she cried remorsefully.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Keep your head, ma. I need you calm. You can't be calculating if you're emotional. I'm okay.” He grimaced as the doctor tried to sit him up against the headboard. “I'm down, but I'm not out. I'm right here,” he whispered.

“If I don't start an antibiotic drip, you're likely to get an infection. I have to make a few calls to get the supplies I need brought here,” the doctor informed him.

“Do what you need to,” Monroe said.

They waited on pins and needles until finally the doctor's things arrived. By the time he was done with Carter, the bedroom of the suite looked like an intensive care unit.

“He's heavily sedated on pain medication and antibiotics. Change his bandages twice a day. Here is Vicodin for the pain.” The doctor handed Miamor a prescription bottle. “Call me if he can't handle this.”

Miamor placed a band of ten thousand dollars in his hand and said, “Thank you.”

He made a hasty exit, bumping right into one of The Cartel's goons as he left.

Monroe rushed to the door when he saw his henchman enter the suite.

“You supposed to be three hundred miles away from here,” he said, with concern. “Where's Leena?”

“We got to Cali and she insisted that I let the boys play outside. An ice-cream truck pulled up. I turned my back for thirty seconds…”

“My wife and my son are gone? That's what you telling me? My nephew is gone? I trusted them to you and you coming in here to tell me they've been snatched?”

“I let off on the truck as soon as I realized what was happening.… I didn't—”

BOOM!

Monroe didn't hesitate to put a bullet in his head. There was a price to pay for this misstep, and it was a hefty one.

“Now how are you going to explain someone who walks into a public casino and hotel but doesn't ever walk out? De cameras place him here. How do you know no one heard de gunshot? You two are out here like de wild, wild fucking West!” Aries shouted.

“The floor is soundproof,” Miamor answered. “Where are our kids, Monroe? I swear to God I am going to rip his heart out of his chest if anything happens to them,” she threatened as her eyes swelled with tears. She trembled, she was so irate. “What do we do?” she asked.

Monroe hit the wall in frustration. “You killed his daughter! What do you think he is going to do to our sons?” he shouted. “You and your fucking hot head! This is your fault!”

“You think I don't know that?” Miamor shot back. “I know, Monroe! He's my son, too.” Miamor didn't have many weaknesses, but C.J. and Carter were exceptions. At the moment, she was terrified for them both.

The phone to the penthouse rang as Miamor and Monroe continued to shout their frustrations at each other.

Aries went to answer the phone. “Somebody probably heard de fucking gunshot. Soundproof, my ass,” she said, silencing them. She picked up the phone.

Silence filled the line.

“Hello? Who is this?” she asked. She frowned as she heard the sounds of cries in the background. She turned to Miamor and Monroe, shushing them. “One of you needs to take this,” she said. The solemn look on Aries's face made Miamor rush to the phone.

“Is that him?” Miamor asked. She snatched the phone. “Baraka…”

She could hear muffled screams in the background … the cries of Leena, of her son, of Mo. “If you touch one hair…”

“I intend to do more than touch one hair, Miamor. I plan to rip his fucking head off his shoulders. You have forty-eight hours to turn yourself over to me and relinquish all shares of the casino to me. If not, I'll send your sons and this black bitch back to you piece by piece.”

“Please … they're children.…”

“You took my child, I take yours,” Baraka said. “Let me give you a little example of what will happen if you do anything other than what I've asked.”

Miamor heard the sound of a chainsaw revving up.

“No! Please!!! Don't!!!”

It was Leena's screams. They were so shrill that Miamor closed her eyes and took her ear away from the phone as a tear slid down her face. Leena had become family to her. The sound of Baraka torturing her was gut-wrenching.

“There goes one hand,” Baraka said.

“This is between me and you. Nobody else,” Miamor reasoned. “She didn't do anything to you. She is someone's wife … mother.… You caught the easy fish because you couldn't catch me. I'll see you soon.”

“Forty-eight hours,” Baraka reiterated. “I'll text you a location.”

The line went dead, and Miamor looked up at Monroe. “I have to give myself up in order to get them back.”

“Carter's going to veto that, you know that,” Aries said.

“He has our son. There is no other option,” Miamor replied solemnly.

Monroe's nostrils flared. His eyes were red from rage as he stormed out.

“What do you need me to do?” Aries asked.

Miamor looked at her with regret-filled eyes. “Pray for me.”

Aries and Miamor hugged long and hard because they both knew this was the end. They had started on this journey together as young girls. It had been five of them at the beginning. Death and destruction had dwindled their number to just two. This was a loss they had felt before, but despite that, it still hurt. “You're going to be the last Murder Mama standing, Aries,” Miamor whispered as she grew emotional. They had been in this game side by side for years. They were best friends, sisters, and confidants. The memories of the capers they had pulled, the murders they had gotten away with, flooded them. Neither of them expected to die a peaceful death. Their karma wasn't set up that way, but Aries and Miamor had never expected it all to come down to this.

“Me feel like me should do something,” Aries said. “You know me will go all out with you, Mia.”

Miamor stood back and grabbed both of Aries's hands. There had never been a friend more loyal. Aries was the most stand-up person she knew. Miamor gripped her friend's hands tightly and smiled weakly. “This is what I need you to do, Aries. Get out of this game. Disappear and keep your son safe. Move on with your life and bury your memories of the Murder Mamas when you put me in the ground. Don't end up like me, Aries. I love you, Murder Mama. This is good-bye.”

“Me love you, too, Mia,” Aries whispered, a tear falling from her eyes. This was heartbreak for her. The Murder Mamas had been Aries's first family. She was about to lose that forever, and that fact was digging a hole in her heart. “Save a spot for me up there.”

Miamor laughed and nodded as she wiped the tears from her face. “Sure thing,” she said. They both knew she wasn't going to heaven and that they would see each other again … but when they met, it wouldn't be in the clouds. It would be in the fires of hell.

*   *   *

When Carter came to, he found that the pain was still there but he could now breathe easier. He looked over at Miamor, who was cuddled into him, sleeping peacefully with dried tearstains on her face. He nudged her awake and as soon as she opened her eyes, he peered into her soul.

“What happened?” he asked, clearing his dry throat. He sat up, grimacing as he moved slowly.

Miamor climbed out of bed and walked around to the nightstand to pour him a glass of water. She grabbed the pitcher, stalling for time as she tried to decide how to tell him what had gone down.

She raised the cup to his lips and he drank, grateful for every drop.

“Sit down and tell me whatever it is you're trying to figure out how to say,” he said, knowing his woman. Carter had always been well-versed in the book of Miamor.

“Baraka has C.J. and Leena and Mo,” she whispered. “He wants me to give myself up in exchange for them.”

“I'mma kill him,” Carter whispered. “I'm going to fucking kill that mu'fucka.”

Carter could feel his world crashing. This was an impossible choice. His wife or his son. “He can have me,” he said as he clenched his jaw.

“He doesn't want you,” Miamor replied. “We both know I have to be the one to die. He's our son. He is the product of our love.… He is proof that what me and you had was real,” she said. She was emotional … weak … torn up over the fact that she had caused this to happen. “Somehow we got lost. Life tore us apart, but C.J. is the evidence that we were extraordinary together. Our love was real. Right?” She was crying, and it was the most peaceful cry Carter had ever seen. Tears fell out of her eyes like rain from the sky, but her face was serene like a beautiful summer day. She had accepted her fate.

“It is the realest thing I've ever felt, ma,” Carter replied.

“We have thirty-six hours left. Can I spend my last day with you?” she asked.

Carter pulled her into him and kissed her forehead as he held back his own tears. He didn't want to show her his fear. He was terrified for her. He was terrified for himself. Life was not worth living without her. There were no wins in this predicament. By saving C.J., he was sacrificing Miamor. C.J. was the only soul on Earth he would do that for. He felt like he was dying. The reality of the dire situation was eating him alive. “I wouldn't have it any other way, Miamor,” he replied.

“Are you in pain?” she asked.

“Not the kind that you're thinking of.… My heart hurts more than any bullet could ever cause,” Carter admitted.

*   *   *

Miamor showered and styled her hair just the way Carter liked it. She put on his favorite dress. She wore his favorite scent. She put on her makeup flawlessly. This would be the last time Carter would ever see her alive and she wanted to give him something to remember. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she was surprised to see him out of bed. “What are you doing?” she asked in concern as she rushed to his side, noticing he had taken the IV out of his arm. “You should be resting.” She grabbed some gauze and tape before approaching him.

“I'm good,” he assured her. She could tell that it was taking all of his strength just to stay on his feet, but she didn't protest. He knew his limits. She didn't want to waste time arguing.

“Here, just let me put this on your arm so it doesn't bleed where the IV was,” she said. She bandaged him, all the while feeling his eyes on her.

“You're beautiful,” he complimented her.

She blushed as he caressed her face, staring so intently that she knew he was trying to commit every inch of her to memory.

“You've made me a better man, Miamor,” he said. Even wounded and weak, he was the strongest man she knew. She smiled. “You taught me how to love. You taught me forgiveness. You taught me how to appreciate someone while I can, because you never know when they will disappear from your life. I love you. You're the only woman I have ever said that to. C.J. will know you and the sacrifice you made. I'll make sure of it. There will never be another woman who can fill the void you're leaving in my life, ma. This divorce shit, it got out of hand. I never wanted this, and now it's too late to take it back. Just know that I love you, Miamor. I've never stopped. I never will. Every breath that I take, I'll take for both of us. You're in me, ma, and I'm in you. So you'll live as long as I live. That's my word.”

Miamor's stomach felt hollow. He was saying good-bye. This was it and it hurt. This long prelude to her death was torture. She would have much preferred the unexpected bullet instead of this long walk toward the grim reaper's door. “You won't forget me?” she asked.

“Never. Every second of every day you'll be in the back of my mind,” he said. “Every part of me wants to go to war over you. I don't want to give you over to him.”

She could see Carter's temple flexing in anger. He was so powerful that being powerless in this situation made him feel less than a man.

“Not even God can stop this,” she said. “You don't have to feel bad. If there was any way you could save me, I know you would. You can't.” She paused as she took a deep breath. The feeling of air moving in and out of her lungs was one she savored. Her breaths were now numbered. She exhaled. “Not this time.”

She walked over to the nightstand and opened it. A 9mm pistol sat inside. She had always lived by the gun, so she wasn't afraid to die by it. It was Baraka's unknown intentions that terrified her. If she left it up to him, he would slowly seep the life out of her. He wanted to inflict pain. She reached inside and pulled out the weapon, palming it. She ran her hands against the steel as tears came to her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Carter asked.

“I'm going to die, Carter,” Miamor said. “If I have to go, I want it to be at your hands. I don't want Baraka to take my life. I'm scared.”

“I can't do that, ma,” Carter responded. “You're the one person I've never been able to curl a trigger on.”

“You have to,” Miamor whispered, her voice full of sorrow. “I don't want to see what Baraka has in store. You can do it here. Peacefully. One shot and it'll be over. Baraka will accept that. He will return C.J. after you show him my body.” She reached inside the nightstand and pulled out a silencer. She began to screw it onto the gun.

Carter grimaced as she placed the gun in his hands. “I can't,” he said as he looked at the gun and then intently into her eyes. “I won't.”