The Cartel 3: The Last Chapter (16 page)

As he looked down at her face, he noticed the change in her. Whatever she had been through, it had drained her spirit. Even through the high from the heroin, he could see the hopelessness in her eyes. He grimaced as he thought of all of the men who had invaded her body, and as she began to scratch herself in her sleep, he saw the tell-all signs of a junkie.

As they pulled up to the airstrip and boarded the private jet, Carter held onto her tightly, as if she would disappear.

Breeze opened her eyes slightly and looked drowsily up at her older brother. “I just want to go home. Please take me to my family. They don’t even know I’m alive,” she whispered, still disoriented and unaware of her surroundings.

“I’m taking you home, Breeze, and nobody will ever hurt you again.”

Zyir awoke to the sound of his cell phone vibrating against his wooden nightstand. He sat up and wiped the sleep out of his eyes as he reached over Illiana to answer it. Carter’s name appeared on the screen, and he answered it immediately.

“Yo, fam, it’s like seven in the morning. You know the streets don’t see me until noon,” Zyir stated with fatigue.

“I’m outside of your building. Buzz me in. We need to talk,” Carter stated. Zyir had known Carter long enough to know when something serious had gone down.

“I thought you weren’t due back from Tijuana until—”

“Open the door, Zy. I’ll explain when I see you,” Carter replied. His tone was demanding, but Zyir knew Carter too well not to pick up on the anxiety that was in his voice.

Zyir hung up his phone and then slid out of the bed to avoid waking Illiana. It was obvious that Carter wanted to
discuss business, and he wanted the conversation to remain private. He shut his bedroom door as he exited and buzzed Carter in.

When Zyir opened the door and saw the stress lines on Carter’s forehead, he knew something had gone awry. His red, sorrow-filled eyes told a story all their own.

“I need to talk to you,” Carter stated as he stepped inside. Carter knew how Zyir felt about Breeze, and although her return was a joyous event, he wanted to prepare Zyir for it. He knew that Zyir loved his younger sister, and he did not want her condition to be a surprise to him. Breeze was not the same girl she used to be.

“No doubt, fam. Come in,” Zyir invited as he stepped to the side to allow Carter to enter.

“It’s about Breeze,” Carter started.

“Breeze?” Zyir repeated in confusion. “Breeze is dead. We said our good-byes to her a long time ago.”

“She’s alive, Zyir,” Carter stated as he put his hand on Zyir’s shoulder.

Zyir smacked his hand away. It was the first time that he had ever bossed up against his mentor. His face frowned in pain as he backed away from Carter, bumping into his end table and sending a lamp crashing to the floor. The mere mention of Breeze’s name was a soft spot for Zyir.

“Fuck is you saying, fam? She’s been gone for almost two years! She’s dead. We held the service …”

Carter stood stoically as he nodded his head. He knew that Zyir would take Breeze’s reemergence just as hard as he had taken her actual death. “I know. We were wrong. She was still alive.”

Zyir began to tear up as he put his hands on his head. “Don’t say that to me, man. That means I gave up on her, fam. If she’s been out there all this time, then I failed her. I
was supposed to bring her home,” Zyir stated emotionally as he punched the wall in frustration, putting his fist through the plaster and causing his knuckles to bleed.

He put his balled fists to the sides of his head in utter turmoil as he closed his eyes in horror. This was the last thing he had expected to hear Carter say. Wars he was ready to fight, money he knew how to collect, beef he enjoyed to cook, but to hear that the only girl he had ever loved had come back from the dead had him shook. It was the only situation that he was unprepared to handle. It was a chapter that he had closed in his life, and now it was about to be rewritten.

Zyir’s grief reminded Carter of his own. It was the same way he felt about Miamor. He wished that she would magically reappear the same way that Breeze had done, but there was no bringing her back. She was gone forever, and because of this, he hoped that Zyir appreciated the gift that he was being given.

“She was working in one of Felipe’s brothels. He says he purchased her from a woman who runs a human trafficking camp called Murderville. I don’t know what Breeze has been through, but I know that she needs you.”

Zyir looked at Carter in utter astonishment as he collapsed onto the couch. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head from side to side. His brain could not process the information, but his heart had sped up dramatically and felt as if it would beat out of his chest.

“Take me to her,” Zyir stated.

“Take you to who?” Illiana’s voice broke through the conversation and was an unwelcomed intrusion. She wasn’t shy, and she made no efforts to cover her scantily clad body as she stood in front of Carter and Zyir while smoking a freshly rolled blunt.

Zyir ignored her question and refocused on Carter. “I need to see her, fam.”

Carter saw the look of displeasure that crossed Illiana’s face. He hoped that Zyir could see the signs that Illiana was giving off. It was obvious that she wanted more than Zyir was willing to give. The jealous look on Illiana’s face spoke volumes, and Carter made a note to put Zyir up on game later.

“Handle your business and wrap things up here. I’ll be waiting downstairs. Breeze will be happy to see you,” Carter replied.

As Zyir dressed, Illiana stood in the doorway of his bedroom while smoking the cush weed slowly.
I know he’s not rushing out to see some bitch when he has me here. Ain’t nothing better than this,
Illiana thought arrogantly.

“Who is this Breeze bitch you’re so worked up over?” Illiana asked.

Zyir stopped dead in his tracks and approached her as he buttoned up his Armani cardigan. He stood two inches away from her face as he said, “Don’t ask questions about things that don’t concern you. You’re here to keep track of your brother’s money, so start counting,” Zyir stated, referring to the money that they had sexed on the night before. Without another word, he walked out of the room. Illiana’s feelings were not his concern. He had one thing and one thing only on his mind—getting to Breeze.

“Thank you for meeting me,” Mecca stated as he sat down on the park bench next to Leena and his nephew. She looked up at him and noticed the graze wound on his face. She had known him long enough to be able to tell that it had come from a bullet, one that had barely missed him.

“What happened to your face?” she asked.

“I had a little run-in with someone. Nothing major. I appreciate you showing up, Lee,” he said, changing the subject.

“You said you had something to say,” she replied. Leena was so short with him. She could not let go of the tiny piece of anger she still held onto, and Mecca heard it in her voice.

“You still toting pistols in my nephew’s diaper bag?” Mecca asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Leena ignored his question as she looked out at the children playing in front of her. “What do you want, Mecca?” she asked impatiently.

“I don’t know,” Mecca replied honestly. “I want us to become friends again if that’s possible.”

Leena raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Friends?” she repeated.

“I know that’s a lot to ask for, but it’s the truth. I did what you said. I asked God for forgiveness.”

“That’s good, Mecca. I’m glad you took that first step,” she admitted. She looked into his troubled eyes and said, “I wish you had taken it a long time ago.”

“How do I know if it worked?” Mecca asked sincerely.

Leena looked at him suspiciously. She had never seen this side of Mecca before. “You will start to feel better,” she replied. As she looked down at her son, who had fallen asleep in her lap, she said, “He looks just like you.”

Mecca nodded and replied, “Money was always the winner. He was a lucky man.”

“You were too, Mecca. You just didn’t appreciate me like you should have,” Leena admitted. The crowded, public place put her at ease around Mecca. She had snuck out while Estes was out playing golf, but she didn’t dare meet Mecca in private. She chose a place where there would be too many witnesses for Mecca to try anything stupid.

“I appreciate you now,” Mecca replied. “I’m tired of living recklessly, Lee. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, but I need your help to make my future better. I have no right
to ask you this, but you’re the only person who can make me better. I don’t want this life no more, ma.”

Leena hated the fact that her heart raced around Mecca, but she could not stop it.

Just as she was about to respond, Mecca’s phone rang loudly. He answered it.

“Yo, Mecca, you need to come to my place right away. It’s important,” Carter stated.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Mecca protested.

“It can wait,” Carter insisted before hanging up the phone.

Mecca sighed as he turned back toward Leena. “I have to go, but I want to finish this discussion. Can we meet again?” he asked.

Against her better judgment, Leena nodded. “Yeah, Mecca. I’ll meet you whenever you call.”

It was a small step, but Mecca was grateful because it meant that it was possible for him to close the gap between them.

When Zyir saw Breeze lying in the bed, his knees almost gave out. The dark circles around her eyes, the track marks on her arms, and the bruises and cuts on her body made him cringe as if he could feel her pain. He sat in the chair next to her bed as Carter stood near the doorway.

“They doped her up,” Zyir whispered, grief stricken as he grabbed her limp hand and held onto it gently. He kissed it and noticed that she was ice cold. She was in such bad condition that he almost didn’t believe she was alive, but the rise and fall of her chest, along with the weak pulse he felt, told him otherwise. “What did they do to you, B? I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He felt her stir slightly in her sleep as she began to come to. Her eyes opened, and she began to panic at the sight of the
unfamiliar setting. She sat up in bed and put her back against the wall as she prepared to defend herself, but when her eyes met Zyir’s, a sense of safety fell over her.

“You’re not real,” she uttered.

“I’m real, ma,” he assured her as he reached out to touch her cheek.

She looked around in bewilderment. “I’m home?” she asked. “This is real?”

“Yeah, you’re home, Breeze. You’re safe now,” Zyir stated. Breeze fell into his embrace as she wept heavily on his shoulder.

“I should have been there,” Zyir said.

Breeze was too hysterical to respond. She choked on her own tears as Zyir held her tightly. Words would only complicate the situation, because neither of them could express how they were feeling.

It was the first time in his adult life that Zyir had allowed himself to cry. The love of a woman had made him whole again. Just seeing her face uplifted him. “I’m not letting you go, ma … ever. You hear me?” he stated as he held onto her tightly. “Tell me you trust me, ma. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over again.

“I trust you, Zyir,” she whispered, absorbing his presence. She sucked it all in, because she was sure that at any moment she would wake up and it would all be a dream.

Mecca knocked on Carter’s door, and when he saw his brother’s face, he immediately became concerned.

“What happened? What’s so urgent?” he asked.

“I found Breeze,” Carter revealed. Mecca’s eyes opened wide with hope as he raced past Carter and went from room to room until he finally located her in the spare bedroom. He
stopped in his tracks when he saw her weeping passionately in Zyir’s arms. He noticed her track-ridden arms immediately and winced in internal pain.

“Breeze,” he called out to her, causing her to look up.

“Mecca!” she yelled as she jumped up and leaped into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his entire midsection as if she were still a little girl. He rubbed her hair and rocked her back and forth. He held onto his sister so tightly that she could not breathe, but she did not protest.

This feeling of familiarity, of safety, felt too good to Breeze. She had been deprived of her family for too long, and now she was back. It was too much for her to handle as she sobbed into Mecca’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay now, B,” he whispered as he held back his own tears. His efforts to stay strong failed him as tears began to fall from his eyes. “I’m going to kill a nigga. Everybody who ever hurt you, Breeze, I promise,” he pledged as he felt her heart beating through her chest. “I thought you were gone, Breeze. I thought you were lost forever.”

“They hurt me, Mecca. Over and over again,” she cried.

“They’re dead, B. Don’t even think about that,” Mecca said soothingly. He wiped his eyes as he held onto her. She was so weak that he had to be her strength. There was no room for him to be fragile. Breeze needed him, and as he caressed her hair soothingly, he gritted his teeth from the very thought of the abuse she had suffered. He had never been as gentle with anyone as he was with his baby sister at that moment. The Diamond family had kept her the most sheltered. She was their world.

The excitement of being home overwhelmed her, and her stomach began to boil as she realized how long it had been since her last fix. A full twenty-four hours had gone by, and to an addicted Breeze, that felt like a lifetime. She was used to being high around the clock.

“I’m going to be sick,” she gurgled as she released Mecca. Zyir grabbed a small trash bin that sat beside the bed and rushed to her side as she threw up. Violent fits of vomit spewed from her mouth as Mecca watched in agony.

He knew that her body was craving heroine. He had been in the streets for too long not to notice the symptoms. Breeze was a dope head. His beautiful baby sister had been turned out, and the dismay he felt was written in agony on his face.

“I got her,” Zyir stated, knowing that Mecca was about to break down any second.

Zyir laid Breeze back down in the bed as Mecca nodded and walked out of the room. It was too much for him to bear to see Breeze in so much distress.