The Demise (6 page)

“Because you're mine,” he replied. “You might not remember how much we meant to each other. Carter might have you blinded by this Cartel bullshit, but I remember, Mia.” He leaned his face into her as he tried to kiss her, but she turned her face defiantly.

“I don't remember,” she whispered as her lip trembled at the thought of her child.

“You remember,” he insisted as he kissed her cheek sensually, then her ear, and her neck. He was intoxicated by her scent, and she cringed at his touch. “You remember me busting that pussy open, you remember me putting my tongue on it. I can still hear you calling my name, Miamor, begging me for it. I know you ain't forget that. You said it was mine. I got locked up and left you out here, to survive on your own. I know you're pissed about that. You latched on to another nigga so that these streets didn't eat you alive. I get it, but it's time we got back to what we used to be. Before you switched up.” He pulled back and mushed her head hard. “You hear me?”

Miamor gritted her teeth to stop herself from getting slick at the mouth. She didn't know what Murder was capable of. Not anymore. The last time they had faced off she was pregnant and defenseless. She had seen a side of him that was so psychotic, she knew he wasn't above killing her. He would rather see her buried six feet deep than back in Carter's arms. She would have to play this carefully. A knock at the door caused Murder to rise off the bed and she sighed in relief. She didn't fear Murder. She didn't fear anyone, but she did fear for the fate of her son. He was just a kid. He wasn't supposed to pay for her sins.

Murder snatched open the door to the bedroom, and Fly Boogie walked inside. In his hands he carried brown paper bags of food. He looked at Miamor. She looked away. “Miamor,” he said.

Miamor didn't respond. Confusion plagued her as a million things ran through her mind.
What is he doing here? How does he know Murder?
she thought.

“Did I tell you to talk to her?” Murder asked. “Don't overstep, young.” It was a subtle warning.

“What, nigga?” Fly Boogie asked, challenging him.

Miamor realized Fly Boogie was in over his head. He had no idea what a man like Murder was capable of. She needed him to tread lightly, so she spoke up. “Baraka has C.J.,” she told him. “The longer I'm here, the worse things will get. He's probably killing him right now.”

Fly Boogie cleared his throat as he looked at her sympathetically. “You've been out for a couple days, Miamor. It's too late, ma. Baraka killed Leena and the kids,” Fly informed her. “The memorial is today.”

It was like she had been slapped in the face by his words. They stunned her as her heart immediately felt hollow. It was like all the love that she had collected in her life had drained out of her in that moment. It hurt. Like nothing she had ever felt before; her soul burned like the fires of hell were scorching her. “No,” she said as she shook her head in denial. “No!” she screamed. “He's my blood. My only son. You have to let me go. I can't … be … here.” She spoke passionately, pleadingly, desperately as she pulled at the handcuff. “No—oo.” She sounded wounded, as if she were being tortured slowly. What they didn't know was this was her worst fear. This was a nightmare. Neither man had ever seen her so distraught.

Murder rushed over to her side. “Miamor, stop,” he said. She was pulling at the handcuffs with such force that he thought she would break her wrists. The entire bed shook as she lost control.

“I'm going to fucking murder this motherfucka!” she shouted. She snapped. Like a shark out for blood, her instincts clicked on. “Get these fucking handcuffs off of me.” She sneered. Her resolve was so strong that he could see the malice in her stare. “This isn't about Carter, Murder. This ain't about me and you. It's about my seed. If you keep me here, I will never forgive you. I will never love you. I will never see you the same again. You won't want me because you won't be able to trust me. You won't be able to close your eyes around me. I swear to God. I will kill you if you keep me here. My son's funeral is today! I have to be there! I have to see him! His mother has to be there,” she pleaded.

“Look what they did to you, Mia. Look how vulnerable they made you. You wouldn't be like this if you had stayed with me. I would have protected you,” Murder stated.

“I know…” she cried. “I know. I remember. I remember you as the man who would do anything for me, so be that guy right now. Do this.…”

Against his better judgment, he dug in his pocket to retrieve the key to the cuffs. He released her and then gripped her face tightly. “Don't play me, Miamor. You know what happens when I have to come find you. You do what you have to do with your kid, but you know where home is. Don't make me come snatch your pretty ass out of that casino.”

She nodded and scrambled from the bed before he changed his mind. “Take her back,” Murder said to Fly Boogie.

“And my money?” he asked.

“I'll get your money, nigga. You think she's in any state to get to the casino account right now? I'mma pay you. For now, make sure she comes back,” Murder insisted.

Miamor and Fly Boogie walked in silence out of the hotel suite. It wasn't until they were in the elevator that Miamor spoke. “What did you do?!” she shouted as she pushed him hard in the chest. She was livid, and although she was the more deadly of the two when she was armed, unstrapped she had no wins against his strength. He pinned her against the wall, pressing the weight of his body against hers.

“Calm down, ma,” he said as he stopped the elevator.

“How could you work with him? How do you even know him? How could you do this?” she cried. She was hysterical at the thought of her child. How had he died? Had Baraka been cruel? Had he tortured her son the way she had tortured Yasmine? “This is all my fault. My baby boy. Nooo,” she said, coming undone as her knees buckled. “He needed me!”

“Shhh,” Fly Boogie soothed her as he held her up, steadying her while placing his forehead against hers. “Look at me, Miamor.”

“I can't … I just can't.” Her heart ached so badly.

“I didn't know. I didn't know about the kidnapping. I had love for Leena and for your son … for Money's son, too. You know I wouldn't have made that type of move had I known what was up. But giving yourself up was the wrong play, ma. Men like Baraka don't hand out pardons. He lost his daughter. Your blood ain't enough. He wants Carter to feel the loss of his legacy. He would have killed your son whether he had you or not. I wasn't about to sit on the sidelines and let anything happen to you. It ain't in me,” Fly Boogie said. His face was so close to hers that when she spoke, their lips touched.

“Why are you here with Murder?” Miamor asked.

“Shit is complicated,” Fly Boogie said.

“Uncomplicate it,” she shot back.

Fly Boogie swept a hand over his face. “I met Murder years ago in Miami. He paid me to infiltrate The Cartel,” he admitted. He left out the part about knocking off Carter. “I got sucked in. I got close to Carter and then Carter went away and I got close to you. I left Miami and said, ‘Fuck Murder.' I didn't look back. He showed up here a few days ago. I helped him snatch you.”

Miamor shook her head in disgust. “So all this time you were just his bitch? You were his spy? His flunky? Reporting my every move to him? What was the endgame? Huh, Fly? Were you going to kill me? Or was bringing me back to him the plan the entire time?” she asked.

“Hell no, I wasn't going to kill you, ma!” Fly Boogie defended himself. “I wanted you for myself. I started feeling you. You know that. The shit between me and you got heavy. I would have never—”

“Yeah whatever,” she said, cutting him off. “I just need to go back. I need Carter,” she whispered.

“It always goes back to him,” Fly Boogie scoffed as he stepped back. “You literally have niggas waiting in line for you, ma. Niggas that will go to war for you … and you keep crawling back to the one who fucked you over. You're worth more than that, but whatever, ma. It's your world.”

He stepped back, giving her space, and smashed his finger into the elevator button to allow them to descend. In her heart she knew it was too late to save her son, but until she heard the words fall off Carter's lips, she would hold on to the little hope she had left.
God please just give me a miracle. Please let Baraka spare my baby,
she thought. As if Fly Boogie could read her mind, he said, “Your son is gone, Miamor. I'm not saying that to hurt you. I just want you to be prepared for what you're going back to. I don't want anyone else to see your breakdown. So process it now … feel it now so that when you walk into the church, they won't witness you fall apart. You're a queen, ma. Can't let that crown fall.”

*   *   *

The cemetery was peaceful on that day. The birds chirped, and a faint breeze blew over them as Carter, Monroe, Breeze, and Zyir gathered in front of Leena's solid gold casket. Three framed pictures sat behind it. Carter couldn't even bring himself to look at them. Leena's smiling face along with C.J.'s and Mo's were lined up next to one another. Only Leena's body had been recovered. Baraka had never had the courtesy of burying his daughter, so he didn't extend the opportunity to Carter and Monroe. They were forced to memorialize their children instead. Carter kept hoping this was a nightmare that he would eventually wake up from. The finality of his reality was too much to deal with. His son was gone. His nephew gone. Leena gone. Their deaths marked a change in him. He was gone. His soul was so damaged that it felt as if he would never be the same again. The cadence of his heartbeat had changed. Everything hurt. Even the thoughts that ran through his mind caused him unbelievable pain. He just wanted it all to end. Carter had been living wrong. He had thrived on power, on money, on prestige. What he wouldn't give to be a regular Joe at that moment. Regular Joes didn't usually bury their kids. They lived a comfortable, routine day-to-day life without even realizing how lucky they were. Carter's kingpin lifestyle had brought him riches, but the things he had lost in that pursuit were priceless. This was a blow he would never recover from. The sound of an approaching vehicle caused everyone to turn their heads in its direction. It was a private service. No one knew they were there. Not even Leena's parents had accepted their invitation to attend. They had written her off long ago, when she had chosen that lifestyle.

“Fuck is she doing here?” Monroe asked as he saw Miamor roll down the passenger window.

“Money,” Breeze whispered. “Please. Not today.”

*   *   *

Miamor wasn't ready for this. “I can't breathe,” she whispered as her chest tightened. She sat in the passenger seat of Fly Boogie's F-150 as she watched the small ceremony take place in the middle of the cemetery. It was intimate, only family attended, but still she felt unwelcome. She was on the outside looking in. Her guilt had ostracized her. “You can go, Fly,” she whispered as she reached for the door handle.

“I ain't going anywhere. I'll be right here,” he replied as he watched her exit the vehicle.

She walked across the grass, closing the distance between her and the people she had once called family. She halted a few yards away. Pictures of the children had been enlarged and framed. Leena's casket was the only one present. Tears accumulated in Miamor's eyes. Breeze was the first one to react. She watched as Breeze knelt down to whisper in Carter's ear. He looked up at her and when their eyes met, she knew … it was true. Their prince was gone. Monroe could no longer contain his anger as he stormed over to her.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't put a bullet between your eyes,” Monroe said as he snatched Miamor by her neck, flinging her against an oak tree as if she were weightless.

She wasn't afraid to die. She didn't even flinch as she stared at Monroe. “Shoot me, Money. Just do it,” she whispered to him. She was broken. Nothing he could do to her could be worse than what she already felt.

“Money!” Carter barked, but there wasn't much he could do. He sat confined by the wheelchair. He would never move the same way again, let alone run to her rescue. “Monroe!” he called.

Zyir walked up behind Monroe. “This won't solve anything, bro,” he said.

“That's my life in that box over there!” Monroe shouted as he pressed his gun point-blank against Miamor's head. “My wife! And now my son is dead because of you.… He was a little boy and he was taken from me because of you.” She could practically see fire dancing in his eyes, he was so heated. She didn't blame him and she would deserve her fate if he chose to pull the trigger. She would have if she were the one holding the gun.

“She knows, Money,” Zyir stated, his tone mellow. The last thing he wanted to do was incite Monroe. “We all know. We don't need more bloodshed. We all feel this hurt.”

Monroe pulled back the hammer of his gun and gripped the trigger. He wanted so bad to end her. Staring into her eyes, he saw nothing. It was as if she were gone.

Mentally she had been depleted; emotionally she was damaged for life. It was as if she were already dead. Guilt had pushed her to the point of no return. Someone had to be held accountable for this. The lives of their babies had been taken. Her dear friend Leena had been taken. She deserved to die at the hands of Monroe. She silently wished that he would just pull the trigger, because death would be easier than carrying the grief of this around for the rest of her life.

“I don't blame you. This is my fault. Just do it. Do it, Money! Do it!” she screamed. She saw how bad he wanted to. In his rage he was the spitting image of Mecca. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that Mecca was the one threatening her life. Goose bumps formed on the back of her neck, and despite the Nevada heat, she shivered.