La Bella Mafia (6 page)

Nothing had ever been so foreign to Zyir. He was Flint bred and Miami crowned. He preferred to stay where the native tongue was one that he understood. Call it closed minded, but Zyir just called it smart. He was a young man who liked to be aware of everything moving around him. As soon as he stepped off of the private jet an uneasiness settled into his bones. It was instinctive for him to reach out to Breeze. He missed her. The fact that they had been at odds ate away at him the entire flight. He knew that she was suffering because he could feel her strife. He was across the globe and was still emotionally connected to his shorty. She was his rib, he just wished that he could tell her that everything was going to be okay. Stone faced, he emerged from the plane and the first thing he saw was men carrying assault rifles lined up in front of two luxury SUV's. They were dressed in traditional, long flowing cloaks made of the most beautiful fabrics. Their heads were wrapped as well, only revealing their menacing facial expressions.

“They don't look too friendly fam,” Zyir whispered to Monroe as they made their way down the stairs.

“You strapped?” Monroe asked.

“You know it,” Zyir replied.

They were ready to go out guns blazing. It wasn't like them to tread lightly, but they followed Carter's lead. He was the captain of this ship and as long as he appeared comfortable they would remain that way too. Should he even show the slightest wrinkle of concern on his face, they would get it started. They were clearly outnumbered but Monroe's marksman aim evened the playing field a bit.

The door to one of the SUV's was opened and a distinguished man with a full beard exited. He wore gold garb and held out his arms in receipt of his guests. “Welcome to Saudi Arabia,” he said in perfect English. He stepped forward and met the men halfway, showing good faith. He walked right up to Carter. “You must be Carter,” he said as he held out his hand. “You're the spitting image of your father. He and I had some good times in America as young men. Before the wives and the children.” The man paused and inhaled long and deep as he reveled in the fond memories. “To be young and rich again,” he said. Carter gave him a firm handshake.

“You must be Mr. Baraka,” Carter replied. Polo had made the connection so Carter knew that they were in safe hands. “This is my brother Monroe and my good friend Zyir. Thank you for extending the invitation.”

“A son of Carter Diamond is a son of mine. I owed your father my life. He was a good man. I was very saddened to learn of his death,” Baraka stated.

“As were we,” Carter replied, keeping it short. “Thank you.”

“Shall we?” Baraka said, extending his arm toward their awaiting vehicles. “Monroe and Zyir can ride in the first truck while I discuss specifics with you on the way to the resort.”

“Resort?” Monroe questioned.

“Yes. I own Saudi Arabia's largest resort and casino. Five star. I have a penthouse set up for each of you,” Baraka revealed. “It will be most comfortable.”

Monroe nodded and headed for the truck as Carter climbed inside with Baraka.

The scenery outside of his window was mesmerizing. He was in a desert Oasis. It was so hot outside that he could see the heat waves creating a hazy view on the other side of the glass. The tan sand dunes around him made him feel out of place. This was unfamiliar territory but it was also a safe haven. He was out of reach of all of his enemies, legit and otherwise. He felt the tension dissipate from his chest. Fear of capture had been real until this very moment, but now that he had touched Saudi soil he realized exactly why Polo had suggested this place. He was worlds away. The air didn't even smell the same on this side of the planet and despite the fact that he missed Miamor and his son, he welcomed the change.

“I couldn't get any details from Polo as far as the troubles you are in,” Baraka said. “Please tell me.”

Baraka was mild mannered but Carter could see nothing but boss status and old money when he looked at him. He didn't know many old men who walked around with armed guards on a regular. Baraka was important and the rubies sitting on his ringed fingers told Carter that he came from extreme wealth. Carter had every intention on laying low but he was like a sponge. He soaked up knowledge and stored it for future use. He was all about expanding and building a usable and influential network. Something told him that Baraka was someone that he wanted on his team.

“The D.E.A. is trying to prosecute us on drug charges. They have evidence, mostly circumstantial and witnesses. There was no time to hinder their case against us. They want us behind bars to try to contain our influence over Miami. If we were free than their witnesses would never testify. We had no choice but to flee. We need time to regroup, maybe establish some networks over here,” Carter said smoothly opening the door for potential business.

“Well you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to,” Baraka said.

“Thank you,” Carter replied. “I don't come empty handed however. We aren't in the business of taking handouts. Any business I conduct is mutually beneficial. There's a saying that in a good deal both parties walk away feeling like they sacrificed a little bit.” Carter handed Baraka the briefcase that he had carried off of the plane. “A million dollars to show our appreciation for your hospitality.”

Baraka gave Carter a chuckle as he took the case. “You are your father's boy,” he commented.

“So I've heard.”

 

 

The word penthouse did the accommodations no justice. They were being put up in mini-mansions in the sky. Each one came with a group of personal hand maidens, butlers, and a personal chef, not to mention the private plunge pool. This was the luxe life and Carter could appreciate the fact that the hideout felt more like an escape. He hadn't been expecting much but this set up exceeded his wildest dreams. He had seen opulence in his day but nothing quite like this. The Cartel reigned in the fields of drugs, war, and even real estate, but it was apparent that they hadn't amassed wealth on this level . . . yet. If Carter had anything to do with it they would make the transition soon, after his legal troubles subsided. After finishing the tour of Carter's penthouse Baraka turned to his guests. He stood tall, strong, with his hands clasped in front of him. “I hope you find your accommodations most suiting,” he said. “Each penthouse is identical.”

Monroe nodded and Zyir spoke, “No detail was left undone. Appreciate it.”

Baraka smirked. He could spot a protégé in the making. Zyir was a chip off of Carter's block. Their swag was almost identical. They may not be brothers by blood but they were definitely family. Always had been . . . always would be.

The sound of a key card opening the door to the suite caused everyone in the room to look over their shoulders. When they saw her, they became breathless. The foreign beauty was the most beautiful creature that God had ever created. Her Miss Universe smile illuminated the room as she walked confidently pass the group until she was tucked safely under Baraka's arm.

Damn,
Carter thought. He ran his hand down his goatee and exhaled as he shifted his stance. Her long, butt length hair was dark and mysterious, matching the charcoal colored eyes that pierced upon first glance. She was slim with a model's physique. Her only curve was the perky c-cups that sat up out of the custom tailored Dolce pant suit she wore. Her skin looked like honey and Carter couldn't help but wonder if it tasted just as sweet. He shook the thoughts from his head as Baraka spoke. “This is my daughter Yasmine,” Baraka introduced. “She knows my hotel better than I do. She is the hospitality manager. If you need anything she can take care of it for you. No matter how sensitive the matter, she can handle it and keep it in strict confidence. Do not hesitate to ask.”

“Good to know,” Carter replied as he extended his hand to her. “Nice to meet you.”

There was seduction in her eyes as she took his hand. He could practically feel the heat of her touch melting into his skin as she rubbed his hand slightly. “I look forward to pleasing you,” she said with a hint of mischief dancing in her eye. “Day or night, I'm available to you.”

Carter smirked as he cleared his throat, bringing a balled fist to his mouth.

“I know your journey has been long. We will let you gentlemen rest,” Baraka said. He led Yasmine out of the suite. The handmaidens remained stationed in the corners of the room, ready to serve.

Monroe and Zyir stepped up next to Carter. “This shit is wild bro,” Monroe said. “Servants, butlers, and shit . . .”

“Don't take advantage,” Carter instructed.

“From the looks these Arabian women been throwing our way, I'd say we are the ones at risk of being taken advantage of,” Monroe replied with a handsome grin.

Zyir smirked but remained silent. He had caught the vibes as well and knew that this would definitely be an interesting trip.
An interesting trip indeed,
he thought.

The serene country street was void of all threats as Miamor sat in the rental car outside of a modest two-story home. The small city in middle of nowhere, Idaho, was quiet, peaceful, and completely off the map. Miamor completely understood why it had been chosen. It was where you would go to run from your past. It only existed to its own residents. Outsiders had no knowledge of the place whatsoever. She secretly wished that she could find a place that she could run away to with her family. How nice it would be to leave it all behind. Solace. She watched as children rode their bikes up and down the paved streets. The houses all matched. The lawns were perfectly manicured as automatic sprinklers swished sounds of home ownership into the air. Miamor saw no sign of trouble, no sign of drugs, guns, murder. There was absolutely no mayhem on these Idaho streets . . . just good people, living normal, safe lives.
Must be nice,
she thought. She exited the car and hesitated as a car passed her on the street. The driver smiled and waved.
People are friendly here,
she thought as she waved back. She crossed the street and approached the house that sat on the end of the block. It was beautiful and well taken care of with flowers planted around the perimeter of the large country porch. The creaking of a swing whistled in the wind as a little boy sat with shoulder length dreadlocks, rocking slowly as he played with toy trains. He kicked his feet joyously as the swing creaked with every movement.

Miamor gasped at the sight of him and then her heart filled with warmth.

“Hi,” she greeted. “Is your mom home?”

The boy stopped swinging and on cue the front door opened with a gun immediately pointed at her face. The mother inside was so on point that she knew that an intruder had interrupted her son's habitual swaying back and forth. Miamor stared down the barrel of a .357.

“Miamor?” a voice of disbelief rang out, but the recognition didn't cause the gun to lower. It was aimed at her, steady, unflinching, and ready.

“Hello Aries,” Miamor greeted. Aries held the gun firmly in her grasp as she stared into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. Miamor was the devil in a dress and she hesitated before she decided to take a chance and lower the gun. Confusion filled her eyes.

“Miamor . . .” Her brow furrowed.

The little boy stood up and ran to his mother, clinging to her leg. Aries peeled her son off of her. “Go to your room sweetheart. Lock the door and watch cartoons,” she instructed, her voice stern.

The little boy nodded and disappeared inside of the house.

“You think I'm going to hurt you? I would never bring harm to you Aries. You're my friend.” Miamor's voice didn't reveal the stab of anguish she felt in her heart. If her own friend feared her, she must have been a monster.
How did it come to this?
she thought.

“Yeah well I thought you were dead and I don't let my guards down these days . . . for anyone. Even friends,” Aries replied.

Miamor looked down at her body. “I'm wearing Prada and five inch heels Aries. You really think I came to put in work looking like a super model?”

Aries icy demeanor chipped away a little bit and she smirked. “Bitch nobody said you look like a super model. I see we're still arrogant huh?” Aries cracked. Her face melted into a smile. “You look great for a dead woman,” she cracked. Aries put the gun on safety and embraced Miamor. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she said.

“I know,” Miamor replied. “Are you going to invite me in?”

Aries stepped back into the house and Miamor followed.

“I'm proud of you,” Miamor admitted as she looked around the home. Everything was in its place. Modest, but extremely beautiful, Aries house felt like a real family lived in it. Plush carpet absorbed her feet, beautiful venetian blinds shaded the windows, while leather furniture sat on top of an opulent French rug. A stab of jealousy vibrated through her, but it only lasted for a moment. This was the life and she was glad that one of the Murder Mamas was blessed to live it. It wasn't about the money or respect, it was about peace of mind. After the sins that they had committed Aries was lucky to find it. “You made it out. You have a home and a child. I assume there is a man?”

Miamor sat down at the kitchen table as Aries went to the cupboard to start a pot of tea.

“There used to be someone,” Aries said. “He was killed. The past knocked on my door and he got mixed up in some bullshit. I bounced around from place to place. Went back home to the Islands, then to Montana to settle a score, to Arizona, and finally decided to settle here. I ditched the accent to blend in and I started over. This place felt the safest.”

Aries filled the kettle with water and placed it over the blue and orange flame on the stove. Miamor admired her.
She's so normal now,
Miamor thought. She then took a seat across from Miamor. “What happened to you Mia?” A dark cloud seemed to shift over their heads as the mood changed. The reunion had turned dark as the thought of their dead friend loomed over them.

“I was in hiding,” Miamor admitted. “Running from Mecca. I only came back after Carter killed him.”

“But we got your hands sent to us in a box,” Aries whispered.

Miamor shook her head. “It's a long story but they weren't my hands.”

“You left us,” Aries whispered. “We were in the middle of a fucking war and you just dipped. You left us stuck. Where were you when they took Robyn's life?” The reunion between the two of them was bittersweet. Miamor had been their leader. Aries couldn't help but think if she had stayed things may have turned out differently.

“I cried for a week straight when Robyn was executed. I'm sorry Aries. I should have been there,” Miamor whispered. “You all were my sisters.”

Tears accumulated in Aries eyes. “They put her down like a dog,” she whispered. She quickly swiped the emotion away. “You have a child?” she asked.

Miamor frowned. “How do you know that?”

Aries chuckled. “You put on some weight. The bad bitch I know don't play that. You wouldn't gain a pound. A baby is the only explanation. Can I assume that you're back with Carter?”

Miamor smiled. She missed this intimate interaction with Aries. No one had known her better than the Murder Mamas. They were family. Despite her love for Carter and her growing bond with Breeze and Leena, she was never as intimate with anyone as she was with her crew. “I am. Which is why I'm here. I need your help Aries. There's a case against Carter, Zyir, and Monroe . . .”

“Monroe?” Aries questioned in shock. “What the fuck? Everybody is just rising out of their graves in Miami?” The revelation hit her the same way it had everyone else when they first found out Money was alive, like a ton of bricks. “I saw that man in his casket.”

“He's alive,” Miamor confirmed. “He lay in a coma for five years but he breathes just like you and me. The case that the Feds have brought down on The Cartel is solid enough to send everyone away for life. They're on the run . . .” Miamor wouldn't have shared that information with anyone else, but she had trusted Aries with much more. Miamor hid no truths from this old friend. They had done and seen it all . . . together. “I'm being watched or I would put the work in myself. This fucking prosecuting attorney would love to catch me up in the RICO case. You're not on the radar though Aries. You could get in and out. Help me make this go away.”

“You want me to murk a P.A.? Have you lost your mind Miamor?” Aries asked. They had gotten away with their share of murders in their day, but this situation reminded her too much of the one that sent Robyn to the death chamber. “You know this is how Robyn got caught up. We aren't bigger than the law.”

Miamor's gaze toughened. “We are the law Aries. You're a Murder Mama. This suburban neighborhood with manicured lawns got you confused ma? Anybody can get it. Niggas, bitches, children . . . white, black, fucking purple. I will do anything to bring my man home.”

“Yeah but you're not Mia. You're asking me to and I just can't. I'm out of the life,” Aries protested firmly.

“Maybe but this certainly isn't living Aries,” Miamor's tone softened as she sympathized with her friend. “You have to be lonely here. You have no family, no friends . . . just you and your son. Come back to Miami with me. I want to be a part of your son's life. I want you to be an aunt to mine. We are the last two standing,” Miamor said genuinely.

“Miami is Cartel territory Miamor. You can forgive and forget because you love the nigga that's in charge of it, but I still remember. I remember the war. The beef . . .”

“They are good people,” Miamor interrupted. “And I need you there. Carter's half way across the world and he won't ever come home unless I make it happen. I need you to help me get this case off his back.”

Aries shook her head. “Nah, Miamor. That's your problem, not mine. I'm not ever coming back to Miami.”

Miamor wanted to press the issue but out of respect she didn't. They had done a lot of dirt together and it wasn't Miamor's right to push Aries into re-entering the life. “Okay,” she said. She stood to her feet thinking that there was nothing left to say. Miamor needed Aries, but she did not blame her for declining the proposition. Aries was loyal, she always had been; Miamor knew that it would not be easy to get her to change how she felt about The Cartel. Love had caused Miamor to become soft, but Aries was still Aries and she would forever throw the middle finger to the organization who killed Anisa. It was just the way that she was built.

Miamor began to walk toward the door but was halted by the sound of her name. “Mia . . . you want to at least meet your nephew before you leave?” Before Miamor could answer the whistle of the teapot erupted in the air. Aries went to the stove poured two cups as steam drifted from the spout. She handed one to Miamor. “Come on,” she said. Miamor followed Aries up to the little boy's room and when they opened the door they found him fast asleep on his bed.

“You don't have to wake him,” Miamor said. She walked over to the bed and knelt over the small child. “Auntie loves you.” She planted a kiss on his forehead.

“His name is Tre,” Aries said.

Miamor stood and went into her clutch. She removed a piece of paper and pen. “Take care of yourself Aries. I am so proud of you. If you ever need anything just call me.” She wrote down her number and address before handing it to Aries.

“Thanks for coming by Mia,” Aries responded. She took the paper but they both knew that she would never use it. She was shutting the door on her past life and silently Miamor wished that she could do the same.

“I love you Murder Mama,” Aries whispered sadly.

Miamor closed her eyes for a moment and thought back to when they all were together; there had been five of them at a point in time. She was flooded with instant grief at the fact that three of them were no longer breathing.
Did I lead us here? Are their deaths my fault?
She thought. It was a burden that she would always carry on her shoulders. The loss of her sisters weighed heavily on her conscience. “I love you too Aries. Always.” Miamor opened the door.

“Mia . . .”

Miamor turned around to Aries.

“Don't try to kill the P.A. or the judge or none of that. It's too dangerous. There's more than one way to skin a cat. A dead public official will only make the government go for more blood. You need leverage,” Aries said. She shrugged. “But hey what do I know? I'm just a suburban housewife. Good-bye friend.” Miamor nodded and walked out of the house filled with hurt. It was a pain that she had never felt before because she knew this was the final good-bye. She was headed back to Miami to fix her problems on her own, but not in the way that she had intended. Aries had given her some words of wisdom, ones that would prove valuable in time.