Array Ashley - Tale of the Murda Mamas

Zyir could see the fire blazing in his demeanor, but out of respect, he held his tongue.

Carter began to walk out of the house and stopped at the doorway. “Find her,” he said simply, then left Zyir to his thoughts.

Zyir searched high and low, visiting hospitals, spending every minute of his day looking for Breeze. He doubted that she was still in the city. He couldn’t imagine her being so close for this long without word getting back to The Cartel. He started in the surrounding cities. From Palm Beach to Tampa to Orlando and Ft. Lauderdale, he drove for hours, fighting fatigue on a desperate mission to find her. He had a list of over 100 hospitals in Florida. He called some to see if they had any patients who fit Breeze’s description. If there was even a possibility that a patient could be her, then Zyir hit the highway.

After ten hours of disappointments, he had exhausted every hospital on the list, except for the local Miami institutions. He decided to visit Baptist Hospital first.

A tight knot filled his stomach as he whipped his Lexus through the city streets. He was tired, but he couldn’t call it a night. He didn’t have time to sleep. The thought of Breeze suffering somewhere would not allow him to stop his hunt. He had heard the fear in her voice. Wherever she was, she was in danger and she was defenseless. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined the terror she may be going through.

Little did he know, he could not fathom what she was being forced to endure. Her fate was worse than death. Her torture was unimaginable.

Zyir pulled into the emergency room parking lot and jumped out. He walked into the hospital. Doubt and apprehension ate away at him as he approached the nurse’s station.

“Can I help you, sir?” a young black girl asked without looking up from the paperwork in front of her.

“I’m looking for a girl who may have been treated here. Her name is Breeze Diamond,” Zyir stated.

At the mention of the last name “Diamond", the girl looked up. Her eyes scanned Zyir from head to toe. She instantly knew he was a part of The Cartel. Everything about Zyir screamed power, and his swagger made her wet instantly. The young nurse had never had the pleasure of being this close to one of The Cartel’s members. She had only heard about their prestige because their reputation rang loudly in every ‘hood in Florida. The last name Diamond was associated with money in the city of Miami, but it was an exclusive club, and not everyone had access to them. Today must be my lucky day, she thought as she ogled him from head to toe. She put the tip of a pen in her mouth seductively, obviously vying for his attention.

Zyir’s patience was non-existent at this point. He was immune to her flirtation. “Look, bitch, I don’t got time for all that extra shit. Type in the name and see if she’s here,” he said crudely without ever raising his voice.

An embarrassed expression appeared on the girl’s face as she turned toward the computer. “Breeze Diamond,” the girl repeated as she typed the name. She shook her head. “She wasn’t treated here. There is no record of a Diamond being admitted.”

Zyir massaged his jaw line and hit the desk in frustration, causing the girl to jump. His red eyes were filled with worry. “Look, I need to find her. She’s young, light skinned, long curly hair… she has a small mole on the side of her neck and a scar on her collarbone. She may not be here under her name. I just need you to check to see if there’s anybody here that fits her description. Please!” Zyir said desperately. “It’s important!”

The nurse could sense his agony and nodded her head. “Okay. You can have a seat. I’ll check.”

Zyir sat down with his head in his hands. Minutes passed, but it felt like time was frozen still.

“Sir?” the nurse called to him.

He rushed over to the desk.

“We have a Jane Doe here. She came in a few months ago with no ID, and no one has been here to claim her yet. You can take a look to see if it’s who you’re looking for,” the nurse stated with sympathy.

“Thank you, ma,” Zyir stated as he followed her to the elevator and down a long hallway. Zyir breathed deeply. Please, let this be her! he said in his mind.

The nurse stopped in front of a room. “I just want to warn you, she’s in pretty bad shape. There are injuries to her face and body,” the nurse warned.

Zyir wiped his nose and nodded his head to prepare himself for what he was about to see. The nurse opened the door. The room was dark, and the sound of machines beeping was all that could be heard. He stepped closer to the bed, and when the lights turned on, he gasped in shock.

“Is this her?” the nurse asked.

Zyir was at a loss for words as he stared at the woman before him. She was barely recognizable. She looked as if she was hanging onto her life by a thread. He shook his head and backpedaled out of the room. “No, it’s not her,” he said. He rushed out of the hospital and immediately dialed Carter’s number. It was two o’clock in the morning, but it was a phone call that could not wait.

“Hello?” Carter answered groggily.

“Fam, it’s me,” Zyir said.

“Did you find her?” Carter asked.

“Carter, I found your girl. I found Miamor!”

Carter entered the hospital with an entourage of twenty men behind him. Members of The Cartel guarded all entrance and exit points of the building, shutting it down. No one was allowed to enter or exit the premises. Zyir and a select few of Carter’s most efficient workers followed him up to the fifth floor where Miamor was located. The same nurse who had assisted Zyir jumped up from her post when she saw the men enter the building.

“Excuse me. It’s past visiting hours. There are too many of you. You all can’t just roam through the hospital,” she protested.

Carter brushed past her, never even acknowledging her. Zyir put his fingers to his lips and told her, “Sit back down and do your job.” He slipped her a stack of money and kept his stride alongside young Carter.

“Text Mecca, and tell him to get here quickly,” Carter ordered. His Mauri alligator’s echoed against the tile floor. His black Armani sweater, white collar shirt and black tie gave him a distinguished look. As he stepped onto the elevator, he was silent, eerily silent, and Zyir knew that once Carter saw Miamor’s condition, the entire city of Miami would rain bullets.

Zyir hadn’t prepared Carter for what he was about to see. He did not want to be the messenger that delivered the bad news. He thought it would be best if Carter saw it for himself. He led Carter to Miamor’s room and stopped at the door. The five men who had come up with them dispersed themselves throughout the fifth floor. Zyir posted up outside of the door. “I think you need to go in alone, fam,” Zyir said.

Carter entered the room. The smell of death lingered in the air. He walked over to the bed and flipped on the lamp that sat on the stand beside it. When he saw her face, the strong visage he had put on crumbled, and he lowered his head to his chest and squeezed her bed rails in agony. It felt as if someone had knocked the air out of his lungs, and he balled his fist and bit his knuckles to stop his dam of emotions from giving way.

He stared down at his lady… the woman he loved. Her face was black and blue, her left eye seemed caved in, and her skin was puffy and swollen with infection. There were parts of her body that were cut deeply, and medical stitches were everywhere. Carter took in every laceration, every cut, every imperfection, and absorbed the pain as his own. He instantly felt guilty, because he could only assume that whoever had done this to her had done so to get to him.