The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever (13 page)

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Authors: Ashley,JaQuavis

BOOK: The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever
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“Cum for me, ma . . . let her taste it,” Carter whispered. His deep baritone in her ear pushed Miamor off the cliff, and she enjoyed the free fall as she dove into a sea of orgasms. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and Lucy backed up as Carter bent Miamor over onto the arm of the couch.
He stroked her deep and at a rapid pace until finally he exploded.
The threesome fucked all over the villa, going round after round. Miamor fucked Carter, Carter fucked Lucy, Lucy fucked Miamor, and every other combination possible. They all lowered their inhibitions for the sake of animalistic desires. They simply wanted to please and be pleased for the night. Finally exhaustion plagued them, and Lucy fell asleep in the couple’s bed as Miamor and Carter lay in each other’s arms.
“Did we really just do that?” Miamor asked with a laugh.
Carter nodded as he turned toward her and brushed the hair from her face. “Do you regret it?” he asked.
Miamor shook her head. “No, as long as you enjoyed it as much as I did, then I don’t regret any of it. You’re my man and my king. Every king deserves to have a concubine every once in a while.” Miamor winked at him and reached up to kiss his lips. “I’ll do anything for you, Carter. For forgiving me and taking me back into your life, I will do all that I can to make you happy.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Miamor. This was good, but this isn’t you, ma. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoyed it. I more than enjoyed it, but you don’t have to do anything extra. Just by ringing my doorbell on a rainy night you made the rest of my life a happy one. Now get some sleep,” Carter said. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, positive that at the moment there wasn’t a man on earth in a better position than he.
Chapter 11
“I guess he wasn’t the good twin after all.”
—Miamor
 
Carter leaned over and kissed Miamor’s forehead and then took one last look at the lovely Lucy as they both slept peacefully, legs intertwined sexily with each other. Carter shook his head as he recalled the steamy sex session from the previous night. He tapped Lucy’s thigh, stirring her from her slumber.
“Hmm . . . Morning,
papi,
” she whispered as she reluctantly rolled over to face him.
Down boy,
he thought as his dick jumped from the way she addressed him. He smirked and she crawled on all fours. “You like it when I call you
papi?
” she asked seductively.
“Time to get dressed, ma. Playtime’s over,” he said. “And be careful not to wake her.” He motioned toward Miamor as Lucy nodded in compliance.
He walked out of the bedroom, giving Lucy some privacy. He walked to the spare bedroom and opened the closet. It looked like a military arsenal inside. He removed two handguns and put them into his shoulder holsters. He placed one in his waistline. He didn’t anticipate a problem with Buttons. They had done business amicably for too long for anything to go wrong, but he never went anywhere without his strap. It was just another accessory for him.
He wrote a note for Miamor and placed it on the kitchen counter.
“Hmm-hmm.”
Lucy cleared her throat behind him and he turned around to face her. He pulled his Armani leather wallet out of his pocket and removed a card.
“Last night was good,
papi.
Anytime you and your girlfriend are in Rio, please look me up. I’d love to see both of you again,” she whispered as she stood close to him, so close that he smelled the peppermint on her breath.
Carter handed her the card. “You call that number and my man will take care of you. Five thousand dollars for the night.”
Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m not a hooker.”
“I never implied that, sweetheart, but those tips you’re getting at the club can’t possibly take you very far. Accept the money on behalf of me and my lady. For the good time you showed us last night,” he replied.
“Wow,
papi,
” she replied. “That girl in there really is lucky. I hope she knows.”
“Nah, I’m the lucky one,” Carter answered. He extended his arm for her to walk out in front of him, and they headed for the door.
His driver was standing attentively out front. “My driver will take you anywhere you need to go,” Carter said.
Lucy smiled and bid farewell to Carter as he watched her get into the car. He waited until it pulled away before he signaled for one of the local cabbies who sat along the street.
Carter’s mind immediately shifted to business as he entered the shabby vehicle. He gave directions to Buttons’ home as he sat low while the speed of the cab caused the streets to fly by in a blur.
As the cab drew closer to Buttons’ private estate, the cab driver spoke up. “I didn’t even know this road existed until a few weeks ago, and now this is the second time I’ve come here. You Americans must know something we don’t,” he said.
Carter frowned as he sat up in his seat. No one knew of Buttons’ whereabouts except for The Cartel. This spot practically didn’t exist, so the fact that the cabbie had been there before alarmed Carter.
“You say you’ve been here before? Recently?” he asked.
Carter could see Buttons’ home in the near distance as the cab hobbled down the extremely bumpy, underdeveloped road.
“Yeah, another American came here a while back. A bigshot from Miami. He tipped me a pretty penny. Isn’t that what you Americans say?”
Carter reached in his holster and removed a pistol as he cocked it, suddenly feeling as though he had eyes on him. He looked around him, feeling threatened.
“Yo, my man. Do you remember the man’s name that you drove out here?” Carter asked.
“Oh
sí,
senor! He was the money man! Money was his name,” the cab driver stated.
As soon as the words filled the air, bullets filled the car. The rear windshield shattered as bullets flew, causing glass to rain down over him.
“Fuck!” Carter yelled out as he ducked in the back seat. “Drive!”
The cab driver didn’t move as Carter pointed his gun out of the back of the car and fired.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A van of three gunmen had pulled up behind him. His 9 mms were no match for the rapid blasts of the AK-47s of Buttons’ goons. He was a sitting duck.
He turned to encourage the driver to go, but quickly discovered that the man was slumped over the steering wheel. Carter busted back, using his marksman aim, but the way the car was being Swiss cheesed, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before one of the bullets would deliver his end.
Sweat covered his brow as he threw his gun in frustration after emptying the clip.
TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT!
He removed another pistol and let it spit as he pushed open the back door of the cab. As soon as he crawled out, a biting burn penetrated his left shoulder.
“Agh!” he shouted as the blast sent him flying backward, flooring him. He lay perfectly still as blood flooded from the wound in his shoulder. He bit his inner jaw as pain seared through him, but he lay still.
The firing stopped as the men spoke in Spanish. One of them approached, and Carter heard the footsteps crunching against the dirt as they drew near. His finger was already wrapped around the trigger of his gun as he lay with his eyes closed.
The other two goons stayed back as their comrade went to check Carter’s status. The goon stood over him, seeing the blood that now covered Carter’s entire shirt. Carter held his breath, not wanting to give away the fact that he was alive.
“He’s dead!” the goon called out.
Carter prayed that Buttons’ men weren’t as thorough as his own. Zyir or any of his other goons would have put a bullet in his head just for good measure, just to make sure that the job was done. Luckily for him, this did not happen.
“Let’s get out of here!” he heard one of them call out as the goon standing over him rushed back to the escape van. Carter waited until the he heard the van pull away before he rolled over onto his side.
Groaning and in extreme pain, he heaved as he leaned against the cab. He was soaked in his own blood and feared the worst. He struggled to his feet and then pulled open the driver’s door.
“Arghh!” he roared as the pain in his shoulder vibrated throughout his entire body. He pulled the driver out and left his dead body in the dirt as he got into the bullet-riddled car, skirting off at full speed as he raced back to Miamor.
Miamor slowly came out of the sex- and drug-induced fog as she opened her eyes. The bed was empty and the room bright as the sun blared through the open windows. She could smell the salty ocean coming in with the breeze and she sat up, groggily, as she meandered to her feet.
“Carter!” she called as she walked out of the bedroom. She half expected to find him sexing Lucy on the living room balcony.
I’d kill him,
she thought with a laugh, shaking her head because she knew that her jealousy over her man would rear its ugly head sooner or later. She found the entire villa empty and then went into the kitchen. Her mouth was extremely dry and as she opened the refrigerator she finally noticed the note that Carter had left. It was placed underneath a 45 mm pistol. She smiled as she moved the gun and picked up the letter.
 
Gone to handle business. Be back shortly. I love you.
–C
Miamor crumbled the note in her hand and poured herself a glass of orange juice before retreating to the bathroom. Suddenly she felt hot and her mouth watered as vomit tickled the back of her throat. She lunged for the toilet and buried her head inside as she keeled over, her insides erupting.
What the fuck is wrong with me? What did Lucy give me last night?
she thought as her stomach clenched and she vomited again. Miamor breathed heavily as she closed her eyes and stood.
She leaned over the sink to rinse out her mouth, then headed for the shower. She turned on the water and tested it, placing her hands underneath the stream before she stepped inside. The rain showerhead was soothing as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the tiny beads of water that massaged her entire body as they fell upon her.
Her body felt alive after last night’s rendezvous, and she shook her head as she opened her mouth, inviting the water to rinse away her sins. When Miamor opened her eyes, a shadow danced on the door of the bathroom, followed by a creak of the hardwood floor. She swiped her hand across her face and looked again, but nothing was there except for the blowing sheer curtain that covered the window.
Miamor’s heart thumped rapidly inside of her chest. She had lived years of this paranoia, watching over her shoulder, thinking everyone was out to get her. She saw ghosts when no one was there, but in her years of being in the game she learned one thing: to always follow her gut.
Miamor slid out of the back of the shower curtain but left the water running as she hid behind the door. She knew that it couldn’t be Carter. He knew her checkered past. He would have announced himself before sneaking up on her.
She winced when she thought about the gun that she had left lying on the kitchen counter. She would have to do this the hard way. She picked up the porcelain cover to the toilet and waited behind the door. She felt foolish after a minute passed and nothing happened.
Am I tripping?
she thought.
When she heard the door creak open, she knew that she was on point. A masked man entered the bathroom quietly, moving with the stealth of a clumsy-ass giant. If he thought he would catch her slipping, he had another think coming. Compared to her murder game, this goon was an amateur, or at least he moved like one.
Miamor knew that he had an advantage over her because he was armed and twice her size. She waited, and just as he reached for the shower curtain she charged him. She lifted the heavy top over her head.
“Agh!” she yelled from her gut as she brought it crashing down over his head. She lifted her foot and kicked him in his back, sending his him flying into the bathtub. He fell clumsily inside as the gun fell from his hand. Miamor had no time to reach for it as the man fumbled out of the tub. She saw his hand wrap around the gun, and she closed the shower curtain, blocking his view as she darted for the window.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
She dove headfirst out of the window as the glass tore through her skin and she fell fifteen feet to the sandy beach below. She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. She staggered to her feet as she looked around, her vision slightly blurry from hitting her head.
Shaking the stars from her eyes, she gripped the side of the house as she ran up the back stairs that led directly to the kitchen. She raced to the gun that lay on the counter and gritted her teeth as she saw red. She cocked the pistol, and just as she stepped toward the bathroom, the goon came stumbling out. She aimed.
BOOM! BOOM!
She hit him with two shots—one in the head and one in the heart. He dropped to his knees then landed face first into the hardwood floor.
“Bitch-ass nigga,” she mumbled as she stepped over his dead body and went into the bedroom. She quickly threw on her clothes from the night before. She moved as fast as she could until Carter’s voice boomed through the villa.
“Miamor!” he yelled.
She rushed out to him. “Carter!” she gasped when she saw that he was bloody. She covered the room in a flash as he gripped his shoulder in agony.
“I’m fine!” he shouted urgently. “We’ve got to get out of here now. Grab the passports. Get a gun and let’s go.”
Miamor took instruction well and didn’t freeze under pressure. She sprang into action, gathering their belongings and two handguns. She also grabbed anything that looked as if it could help her stop Carter’s bleeding before they exited the villa. Carter’s driver opened the door in alarm.

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