Array Ashley - The Last Chapter

Murder was grateful that he always carried a weapon on his ankle as he ran through the empty condo and out the front door, where he skirted off into the night.

The music in the club blared loudly as Carter sat back in the booth while a beautiful Mexican girl danced in front of him. His eyes graced the delicate curves of her body as she put on the best performance he had ever seen. Seeing her before him made him feel empty inside. Outwardly, no one would be able to tell that he was in turmoil, but in the privacy of his heart, he was broken from losing Miamor.

I should have been there for her. I could have stopped Mecca if she had just come to me. How did I not know what was going on right underneath my nose? A part of Carter felt like he did not even know Miamor. She had lived a lifestyle so closely linked to his that it was scary. His logic told him that he had been a target of hers along with the rest of The Cartel, but he could never bring himself to believe that she would ever bring him harm. The love that they had built was too deep, and although so many things she had told him had been lies, he knew that her feelings for him had been truth. He was in a daze as he thought of her, placing her face on the dancer in front of him.

“They don’t make tits like these in Miami, eh?” Felipe asked, interrupting Carter’s thoughts. “This is pure bred Mexicana pussy,” he bragged as he tipped generously and sipped at his glass of cognac.

Carter chuckled as he raised his glass to acknowledge the beauty that surrounded him in the club.

“This is the business that you need to get into. The drug money is good, but this is where it’s at,” Felipe stated surely.

“Prostitution?” Carter said doubtfully.

Felipe shook his head and smiled coyly while pointing at Carter. “No, my friend. That’s where you’re wrong.” He pointed to the girls around the club. “This right here, this is just one entity. Trafficking, that’s what I’m into. I buy and sell girls. I put them to work in clubs, brothels, on the street. Sex is man’s biggest addiction, Carter. I supply that demand, and it makes me filthy rich. Let me show you something.”

Carter stood and followed Felipe through the club as he explained his operation. “This club is one of many of my establishments. I own every property on this street, and each one serves its purpose.” Felipe led Carter out the front door and then pointed to the house next door. “That house right there is the brothel, and the one next to it is an auction house.”

“An auction house, as in slave auctions,” Carter stated condescendingly.

“Modern day slavery, if that is what you would like to call it. Human trafficking is big business. It is happening all over the world. I buy my girls from all over and I put them to work. Pump ‘em up on heroin and they’ll do anything I say.”

“How do you keep them from running away?” Carter asked as they stepped into the brothel house.

“Where are they going to go? They have no one, no family. They come from many different places. Some from Africa, some from Asia, the Caribbean… you name it. All they have is me and the addiction that holds them hostage,” Felipe replied.

The house was littered with drug paraphernalia. Dirty needles lay out on tables, and the smell of sex filled the air. Carter was almost too disgusted to continue the tour. He could only imagine the type of clientele that frequented the spot. Brothel was just a friendly name for a whorehouse, in his opinion, and he knew that this would never be a type of venture he would be interested in taking. He didn’t believe in exploitation, and as Carter looked around the house he knew that the women trapped there were simply waiting to die.

“The money never touches the girls’ hands. The men pay the madame on the way in,” Felipe stated.

He expected Carter to be impressed, but his creased brow revealed his contempt. His moral compass allowed him to do many things. He had killed, robbed, and deceived, but to kill a person’s soul and force them into prostitution was beyond Carter’s ability. His moral compass would not allow him to ever become that lost.

“I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m running a trashy establishment here,” Felipe stated. “I only buy the best girls. Let me show you the grade-A pussy I’m selling here.”

He led Carter up the stairs to one of the closed bedroom doors. Before Felipe opened it, he said, “All you need is a few like this one in here, and men will come from everywhere to sample her. She is my big moneymaker.”

He opened the door, and when Carter stepped in, his heart broke in half. The sight before him almost brought him to his knees. It was as if he were seeing a ghost.

She’s supposed to be dead. How long has she been here?

As the girl lifted her head, her eyes met Carter’s. It had been a long time since they had seen one another. It was a reunion that neither of them ever thought would come. Before him was Breeze Diamond, on her knees in front of a john. She was so high out of her mind that she did not believe what was appearing before her very eyes. She had imagined her family too many times to get her hopes up. She was so high that she thought Carter was simply another customer waiting to be serviced. She shed a single tear as she lowered her head back into the man’s crotch and went back to work.

Zyir sat back on his plush king-sized bed as he and Illiana counted the money he had just collected from the streets. The first flip had been good, and everybody was eating again. In fact, the streets had never seen a cocaine epidemic like the one that The Cartel was pushing. It was a new day, and although internal tensions were at an all-time high, everybody was putting their differences aside, because they all saw the bigger picture. It was time to move on and let past beefs die. The Cartel was in a stage of rebuilding, and money was always the common denominator that put everyone on the same page.

“How much is that?” he asked as he threw a large stack at Illiana, causing her to drop the blunt that was hanging loosely from her lips. It fell onto the exposed skin of her thigh.

“Damn it, Zy!” she screamed as she frantically hopped up, wearing nothing but lace panties and one of his button-up shirts. “You burnt the shit out of me,” she whined.

“You’ll be a’ight. Finish counting that,” Zyir instructed. He continued the count in his head as he began to flip through a new stack of money. He was a mathematician when it came to his paper. The sound of the bills flipping through the money machine was like a classic melody to him, but even he questioned its accuracy. After the machine counted it, he counted it-every dollar, one by one, until he was content with the amount.

He would usually do the task alone, but he knew that Illiana posed no threat. She wasn’t your average woman. She did not need to steal, because she had her own, and her bank account was filled with endless zeroes. It was for this reason alone that he allowed her to be present.

After many lonely nights, Illiana’s presence in Miami had become surprisingly welcomed. She was a distraction, someone he felt comfortable enough around because she understood his world. At first Zyir was hesitant to keep her too close, but after many lonely nights, the feelings of isolation and the ghosts that haunted his mind became too much. He needed companionship, and the time he spent with Illiana became convenient for Zyir.

Her warm body filled the empty space in his bed most nights, but unfortunately for Illiana, his heart remained ice cold. That was a void that only one woman could fill, and he had closed it off to the rest of the world the day that Breeze had been kidnapped. The day that she disappeared was the same day that Zyir gave up on love. Hustling was all that mattered, getting money his only concern. Even a woman as strikingly beautiful as Illiana could not soften his reserve. She had managed to squeeze into his bed, but he would never allow another woman to enter his life in the magnitude that Breeze Diamond had. Meeting her had changed the man that he was, and losing her had killed his spirit.