Array Ashley - Tale of the Murda Mamas

Both men were silent, each with a different pain in his heart. The war with the Haitians had been won, but at what cost? They both felt like they had given up too much in order to win. Yes, they still had control of the city, but everything that really mattered in life had been destroyed. Their family had been dismantled all for the sake of power.

“Where is she, fam?” Carter asked aloud as he opened and closed the black velvet ring box that contained the engagement ring that he had planned to give to Miamor. It had been months and he hadn’t heard from her. As soon as he was arrested, Miamor had disappeared, and although he could deal with the thought of incarceration and he could handle all of the risks that came with the game, he could not fathom the idea of never seeing her again. He could see her face, her smile, her eyes, as if she had been by his side just yesterday. She was on his brain constantly, and as long as he was unaware of her whereabouts, he would not be able to concentrate on anything else. She was important to him… the only thing he had left to keep him sane. She was the woman who was supposed to be his wife and bear his children. How could she just walk away? He thought grimly. The thought angered and saddened him at the same time.

Mecca stopped himself from smirking. Look at this lovesick ass nigga! he fumed. He was tired of Carter sulking over Miamor. He didn’t feel a need to tell Carter of Miamor’s deception. He had handled that beef personally, and now that she was out of the picture, he was completely satisfied. He had avenged the deaths of his mother and sister. Although vengeance had come at the expense of Carter’s heart, he knew that in time Carter would move on with his life.

“Nigga, you need to take them blinders off when it comes to that bitch,” Mecca stated harshly. “She left you stinking. You haven’t seen or heard from her since the day you were knocked. She was probably a Fed or something. Forget about her. Grimy ass bitch was playing a role to get you caught up. You took the bait. It happens to the best of us.”

Mecca’s words made Carter’s heart throb in agonizing pain. The thought of Miamor’s betrayal was too heavy a burden for him to carry. “Maybe you’re right, bro,” he said with doubt.

“Nigga, I am right. That bitch got you around here fucked up. You a clean nigga. She got you growing beards and shit,” Mecca joked, making light of the situation. “You need to be thinking about keeping the Feds off your doorstep. Just because that snitch nigga, Ace is in the wind don’t mean you’re in the clear. The government doesn’t lose often. You walking free is an embarrassment to them. They’re not done with you yet, so we need to be prepared for whatever they have planned. After your freedom’s guaranteed, the rest will fall into place.”

Carter nodded, knowing that Mecca was speaking the truth. He was focused on all the wrong things. His life was hanging in the wings, and he needed to be at his best in order to overcome the odds that were stacked against him.

Mecca stood. “I’m outta here, fam. I’ll get with you later. I won’t be making too many more trips to this side of town coming to check on you. I still got issues left unsettled,” he said, reminding Carter of his unfinished business with Emilio Estes.

“Keep a body with you at all times,” Carter said with authority. “Don’t be on that Superman shit, Mecca. You can’t go against the Dominican mafia alone.”

Mecca lifted his shirt with one hand, revealing a.380 snub chrome nine-milli, and a.45 tucked against his rock hard abdomen. “Fuck another nigga! I got my bitches lined up right here,” Mecca replied arrogantly. “They won’t catch me slipping again.”

Carter nodded. “I hear you. Be smart and be careful,” he said.

Carter arose and walked around the immaculate mansion. The gray sweats and white T-shirt he wore were very uncharacteristic of him. The fear of the unknown had him out of his element, and he spent his days confined to the house, his thoughts of Miamor driving him insane. He had everything in the world that a man could want-power, money, luxury, but without her, it all held no value. He would easily give it all up to be with her, and had thought that her love for him ran just as deep.

Pouring himself a glass of Remy VSOP, he made his way over to the picturesque window that overlooked the front of the estate. A cable van sat on the street, undoubtedly filled with federal agents who were monitoring his home, trying to build a new case on him. He wouldn’t give them the ammunition they needed to send him away. Prison wasn’t for him. He’d send them to their graves before they shipped him back to prison. He opened the door and walked outside. He acknowledged his armed workers with head nods as he carried the glass of cognac in his hand. Fifty men surrounded the estate, all fully aware of everything and everyone around them, but no one was allowed to enter his home, with the exception of Mecca and Zyir. Carter made his way to the gate and nodded for his keeper to open it. He walked to the edge of the street to retrieve his daily newspaper. A huge picture of his face covered the front page:

Drug Kingpin Carter Jones Walks Free.

The cable truck was not even five feet away from him. He smirked and held up the paper for the Feds to see, then he approached the van. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he greeted when he finally reached the driver’s side.

“We’ve been made,” he heard an agent whisper from the back. The driver of the van watched him with cold eyes.

“Of course you’ve been made. Look up and down this street,” Carter said. “Cable vans don’t quite fit in with hundred thousand dollar cars.”

His arrogance and power intimidated even the highest of the law. He could see that he made them nervous. It takes a wolf to catch a wolf. Carter was one man who would not be easy to get to. They were playing out of their league, and their amateur tactics of surveillance proved that.

“Step away from the vehicle, Mr. Jones,” the driver commanded.

Carter smiled at the officer’s attempt to be dominant, but the tremble in his voice revealed his cowardice. “Not a problem, but I would like to see your badge. Since it’s obvious that you’ll be guests in front of my home, I need to be sure you are who you say you are… you understand,” Carter answered sarcastically.

The federal agent removed his badge and handed it to Carter. Carter inspected it with the same hand he held his drink in, then passed it back. He tapped the inside of the driver door. “Agent Marshall,” he said as he smiled and walked away. Carter had slyly slipped a transparent audio device, no larger than a small piece of tape, onto the back of the agent’s badge, and also one on the inside of the van. Idiot mu’fuckas! he thought to himself as he entered back onto his property and disappeared inside his home. They thought that they were watching him, but now he would know exactly what they were saying. He would always be one step ahead of them now that he had infiltrated their operation. The listening device had a radius of 100 miles, and wherever that badge went, Carter’s ears would follow. I’ll even hear you fucking your wife at night, he thought.

Carter rubbed the abundance of hair on his face and thought, Mecca is right. I need to get my shit together and stay focused.

Breeze whimpered weakly as a cold sweat drenched her body and chills stiffened her spine. Her light skin was a sickly bluish tint, and she was barely strong enough to lift her head.

Ma’tee had tried to stop the poison from spreading, but his home remedies were useless, and the medicine he had given her had no effect on her condition. Breeze’s foot was swollen and the skin directly around the spider bite was black. The red streaks going up her leg was a clear indication that the poison was spreading. If she didn’t get medical treatment in a matter of days, she would be dead.