mouth.
Young Carter drove the van down the interstate while Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt pumped out of the factory speakers. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw Money and Mecca, both dressed in baggy clown suits and size 44 shoes, taking off their wigs and wiping off the clown face paint.
“Damn!” Mecca yelled as he forcefully snatched off his red wig. He was totally enraged that he didn’t get a chance to kill Ma’tee. “I didn’t see him. He was on the pool patio, and then when I snuck back in, he was gone. I should have popped him when I first saw him, but he had a guard by the door.”
“He must’ve ducked off somewhere to smash that female that came in,” Money added, noticeably discouraged also.
Carter got off on the highway and pulled into an empty parking lot, where Mecca’s Lamborghini was waiting. “We’ll get ‘em next time,” he said confidently, throwing the “clown” van in park.
Mecca peeled off the costume and jumped into his car. “If there is a next time. Because of what we just did, Ma’tee’s security is going to be extra tight. We may never get that close to him again. Fuck!”
Carter and Money jumped in with him, and they pulled off on their way back home. They had just sent a clear message—The Cartel wasn’t about to lie down.
Chapter Six
“In the middle of a war, there’s no room for weakness.”
—Young Carter
M iamor sat Indian-style next to her sister’s grave, her spirit broken and feeling weak without her big sister in her life to guide her. Anisa was the reason why Miamor had been put on to the street life. She had taught her everything that she knew, and now she was lost forever at the hands of the game. Miamor had always known that the possibility of death was high, because of the lifestyle that she and her crew led. The same way that she was willing to murk a mu’fucka with no ifs, ands, or buts about it, she knew that somebody, somewhere, was willing to do the same thing to them. She just never thought that it would happen to Anisa at the tender age of 25. If she could turn back the hands of time, she would have definitely done things differently that night. It wasn’t her idea to use Anisa as a pawn, but she was outvoted by the rest of the Murder Mamas, and the majority always ruled. Things are always so much clearer in hindsight, and she wished that she had convinced them to come up with a better plan to get at the notorious Cartel.
It had been weeks, and it was the first time she had been to visit Anisa’s resting place.
This is all my fault,
she thought as tears formed in her eyes. She tried to fan her face to stop her tears from falling. She hated to cry, but it was no use. The tears trickled out of her eyes and stained her cheeks as she put her face in her hands, allowing her soul to release the pain.
“I’m sorry, Nisa. If I had been on point like I was supposed to be, this never would have happened,” Miamor uttered out loud. She knew that wherever her sister was she could hear her.
She hadn’t told anyone how she felt. Not even Aries and Robyn knew the guilt that she felt over her sister’s untimely demise. She knew that the moment she lost sight of Mecca’s black Lamborghini that her sister’s life had been put on a countdown.
How did I let this happen?
She felt the coldness from the grass that was still wet from the morning dew creep into her body. She shivered as she closed her eyes and thought of her sister’s face. She bowed her head and prayed to God, feeling a closeness to Anisa that she’d never known while her sister was alive.
I’m sorry, Nis.
Young Carter pulled his black Range Rover up to the cemetery and sat in his car for a moment to gather his thoughts. He was about to face his father for the first time. His first attempt had been interrupted by the Haitians, but now he had no excuse. It was time to make peace with the man who had created him. He got out of the car and walked up to the large monument that was his