Chapter 2
“If you can’t forgive me just kill me, Carter, because I can’t live without you.”
—Miamor
Miamor stood before him, hair soaked as the heavens cried tears of retribution upon her. Her wet skin glistened under the glowing porch light, while her body shook from the chill that settled into her bones. Hers was a face that Carter hadn’t seen in four years, but he had committed it to memory in his feeble attempts to hold on to the love that they had once shared.
Young Carter’s knees weakened as his heart matched the rhythm of the lightning bolts that struck the black sky. Pain pierced his chest as heartbreak seared through his body. It was as if Cupid himself was pulling the bow out of his heart, ripping him to pieces with every tug. His eyes widened in shock as he let go of the glass of cognac he had been sipping. It shattered in a million pieces at his feet, resembling the current state of his broken heart.
There was so much history between them, and as his mind recalled their past, a myriad of emotions passed through him. Rage, hurt, and betrayal caused a lump to form in his throat as they stared silently at one another.
A pistol rested on his hip, but he didn’t even think to reach for it. Had she been any other person, he would have put a bullet between her eyes, but this one woman was the exception to his street rules. Miamor had always been his weakness.
Silence surrounded them. There was so much that needed to be said, but Carter couldn’t find his voice. Lost in her eyes, he saw a woman who had been through hell and back just to stand at his door. She was thinner than he remembered, and scars covered her neck and wrote imperfections onto her beautiful face.
The world seemed to move in slow motion, and Carter couldn’t help but to think that he was dreaming. His mind had played this trick on him many times before. In his sleep he had held her, kissed her, made love to her, but when he awoke each morning, the loneliness of his existence always crept in. Her absence was always present. He didn’t believe his eyes, despite the fact that this time he was seeing the truth.
Miamor stood, terrified as she waited for Carter to react. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her chest heaved up, then down, in anticipation. Her soul was bleeding out, and tears began to flow down her cheeks in turmoil. The hatred she saw in his eyes dissolved into hurt, then confusion, but behind it all she still saw love. She knew that there was a possibility that Carter would murder her where she stood, but seeing him again was worth the risk. The feeling of completion that he gave her when she was in his presence was enough to put it all on the line. She had tried staying away, but in the end living without him was not living at all.
“Please say something,” she whispered as she lowered her head to her chest. For the first time she was ashamed of herself. She was so full of regret that she couldn’t stomach it. Carter was always so statuesque and strong, but her reemergence had sucked the air out of his lungs. He was vulnerable, and seeing him so hurt sent a dagger through her heart.
Carter was a man of strict composure, but the melody of her voice caused him to lose it all. Tears clouded his eyes.
“This isn’t real. You’re dead,” he whispered as he walked out onto his porch and into the heavy rain. He stepped so closely to her that there was no room between them.
Miamor’s breath caught in her throat. She was afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid of what he was going to do to her. Certainly there was vengeance and betrayal on his heart, but she hoped that the sight of her sparked the love that they used to share. All she needed was a tiny spark to ignite a flame so great that he couldn’t deny her return.
He brought his hand to her chin, lifting it so that she had to face him. His index finger traced the outline of her face as he took her in. Miamor felt the steel of his pistol pressing into her stomach, and she didn’t move as she watched him weigh his options in his head—to kill her or to love her.
Carter knew that there was only one true choice. No woman could ever do for him what Miamor did for him. He had entertained plenty of playthings during her absence, but the connection that they shared was one that was only gifted by God once in a lifetime.
“Miamor,” he whispered as a single tear escaped him.
His voice was like a gunshot releasing her from a racing block, giving her permission to move. She reached up to wipe his tear away.
“I’m sorry, Carter,” she said.
Carter cleared his throat and took a step back from her as he grabbed her hands and removed them from his face. He moved to the side and extended his hand in welcome.
“Come inside,” he said.
His voice was low, sad, and revealed a hint of disdain, but she was ready to face him. She was ready to be with him, if he would have her. She didn’t need to stand before God to be judged. Reuniting with Carter Jones was her judgment day. She only hoped that he didn’t send her to the executioner. She took a deep breath and walked into his home.
“There’s so much I need to say to you . . .” she began. Before she could finish her sentence she felt the cold kiss of the gun as Carter entered behind her and pointed it to her skull.
Her body tensed and she closed her eyes. If she had to go, this would be the way to do it—at the hands of the man she loved. The perfect end to an imperfect existence. It was almost too poetic. “I never meant to hurt you, Carter,” she said. Her voice was so full of sorrow that her words caused Carter’s pulse to quicken and his jaw to clench. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I knew that it could come to this if I came back, but I had to see you. I had to see you see me. Even after you pull that trigger, just know that I will always love you. I always have, and if I could do things over again, I would do them differently.”
She waited for words, for bullets, for any type of response from him, but Carter was silent. “Carter, say something,” she pleaded as she began to cry. “Tell me you love me. Say that you hate me. Just say something because the silence is torture.”
Carter had never been a novice when it came to his pistol. When he drew his gun he always popped off, but Miamor was tugging at his heartstrings. He had lived for too long thinking that she was dead. He had grieved over her. Now that she had miraculously reappeared in his life, could he really be the one to make her extinct? His heart said no, but his mind said maybe. Still no part of him was able to say yes.
His hand shook, and Miamor could feel the uncertainty in his aim. She raised her hands in defense.
“I killed Mecc . . .” Carter couldn’t even finish his sentence as he closed his eyes, finally allowing his pain to release in the form of flowing tears.
“I know,” she whispered. “You killed Mecca for me, and I’m sorry I put you in that position, Carter. If you hadn’t done what you did, I would have spent the rest of my life running from him.”
Emotions ran high as Miamor spoke and Carter’s conscience weighed heavily on him. “He was my brother.”
“A brother that murdered
my
sister!” she contested with emotion, her voice raising an octave in defense. The loss of Anisa was still very real to her, and Carter was picking at the scab.
She closed her eyes and composed herself, taking a deep breath. She had no right to ever raise her voice, not with Carter. He was a victim of her betrayal. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper as she continued. “That’s what started it all. What was I supposed to do, Carter? I kill. That’s all I’ve ever known.” She raised her hands and looked at them; although they were clean, in her mind they were covered in blood. “I’ve taken more lives than I can count. It’s who I am, and your brother took my sister from me. So I did what I do best, but then you happened.
We
happened.”
Carter smirked sarcastically and said, “Big coincidence.”
“It was, Carter,” Miamor replied, breathless because her heart was beating so intensely. “I didn’t mark you. Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me and it was not planned. You weren’t on my shit list. What we had was the realest thing I have ever known. I’m in love with you, Carter, and I need you to save me from myself,” Miamor sobbed.
Carter’s grip loosened around his gun as she melted his resolve for vengeance. His eyes were focused on the nape of her neck where delicate tendrils of curls lay perfectly against her skin. Anger surged through him like an electrical current, but he couldn’t will himself to pull the trigger.
He lowered his gun and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, burying his face in the crease of her neck. It was at that moment that her legs gave out as she wept. Carter lowered her to the ground and kissed the back of her neck while her sobs of regret filled the room. They both were being smacked with the reality of the mistakes that they had made.
“If you can’t forgive me just kill me, Carter, because I can’t live without you. I’ve tried and it’s too hard,” Miamor cried.
Carter tossed the gun out of arm’s reach and held her tightly. She leaned back against his chest and allowed herself to become weak as he rocked her slightly. They sat in the middle of his extravagant foyer, clinging to each other desperately, because neither of them knew how long this moment would last. There was so much deception between them that love could transform into hate within the blink of an eye, and when it did, Miamor would have no one to blame but herself.
She felt him lift her from the floor and she buried her face in his chest as he carried her up the stairs. When they reached one of the rooms, he stopped and placed her on her feet.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice steely and despondent, yet commanding.
Miamor could barely look Carter in the eyes, but upon hearing his request she lifted her head.
“Take a shower and meet me downstairs. We have a lot to talk about,” he said.
Miamor nodded her head and then retreated inside the room as he walked away from the door.
Carter’s head was so clouded that he didn’t know if the choice he was making was right or wrong. He wasn’t a man of indecision, but when it came to Miamor he was stuck. He wanted her in the worst way, but with a ruthless history like the one she possessed, how could he ever trust that he wouldn’t fall into her crosshairs? Love hadn’t stopped her from betraying him before. He couldn’t trust her, but it didn’t stop him from wanting her by his side all the same.
Tears stung the lids of Miamor’s eyes as she stood under the steaming hot water with her head hung low. She wept, biting her bottom lip to stop her cries from being audible. Her chest heaved and her mind spun. The slightest sound caused her to jump as she pulled back the shower curtain in paranoia. She half expected for her brains to be blown out while she washed her body. A seasoned killer, Miamor knew that the most convenient place to murder someone was in a bathtub. That way all the blood and evidence could be easily washed down the drain. To her surprise no Grim Reaper stood waiting to deliver her fate.
Miamor quickly stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Wiping the condensation from the mirror she stared at herself. Miamor silently condemned the woman who stared back at her. She didn’t deserve Carter’s forgiveness. Anything less than a bullet to the head would be generous of him.
Her sixth sense told her to run, but her heart kept her still. Miamor was tired of running in the opposite direction of the love of her life. She wanted to run toward Carter—more importantly, beside him.
She wiped the tears from her red and swollen eyes, then exited the bathroom.
Warm colors decorated the large master bedroom. This was home to Carter, and she had never thought she would be welcomed into his life again. Just being in his proximity made her feel lightheaded, grateful, and terrified all at the same time. She quickly dressed, throwing on one of Carter’s button-up shirts, then hesitantly made her way down the stairs to meet her fate.
Carter stood in the dining room staring into the flickering fireplace as the amber flames danced and crackled before his eyes. Although his back was to the entryway he immediately felt Miamor’s presence when she entered the room. He sucked in a breath and held it for a brief second before releasing it along with the tension that burdened his shoulders. Turning toward her he stared, coldly, in confusion. Carter had been through a lot, had seen a lot, had lived a lot, and no one had ever affected him the way that she had. Her disappearance from his life had cut him deeply, but her reemergence was like salt to a bleeding wound. It burned.