The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever (8 page)

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Authors: Ashley,JaQuavis

BOOK: The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever
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Miamor grunted in excruciating pain as she used her body weight to tip the chair on its side. She wasn’t ready to meet her Maker, and the only thing stopping her from surviving was the rope that bound her. She pulled with all of her might, but the beating she had endured had robbed her of her strength. She was too weak to break free, and as she twisted her wrists, the friction burned into her skin.
“Aghh!” she screamed out in frustration before finally giving up. The room spun around her as she lapsed in and out of consciousness. “God forgive me,” were the last words to escape her crusted lips before everything faded to black.
Miamor’s eyes opened slowly and her heartbeat rapidly increased as she awakened from her four-day slumber. She was on full alert as her senses kicked into full gear. Her eyes darted around the foreign room, disoriented and confused. The sterile smell invaded her nose, making her ill instantly. It was so dark that all she could see was the fluorescent light that shined in the hallway, outlining the door to her room. Her pain was so great that it was immeasurable. Bruised and battered, Miamor was beyond repair. What she needed most was time for her body and mind to recuperate from the trauma she had endured.
How did I get here?
she thought as she lay deathly still.
I have to get out of here. If Mecca finds me . . .
The steady tone of the heart monitor and busy sounds of medical staff scurrying about outside of her room gave away her location. She was in a hospital, but she had no idea how she had gotten there.
He told me to leave town. If he gets wind that I survived and that I’m here, he’ll come finish the job.
Panicked, her body temperature began to rise and her pulse raced as fear caused her adrenaline to soar. Mecca had instilled a permanent terror in her heart. She had never been afraid of anyone, until now. Not even God had taught her a lesson so tough. Mecca had given her the craving to live, and in order to do that she had to get out of Miami . . . fast.
Her panic caused the machines around her to sound off and she cursed herself silently. Miamor knew that the police would undoubtedly have questions for her that she wasn’t prepared to answer.
She closed her eyes just as the handle on the door twisted open. Playing possum, she listened to the commotion around her.
“What’s going on with our Jane Doe?” the doctor asked.
“Blood pressure is up, heart rate is elevated,” a nurse responded. Miamor lay still as they checked her vitals. With her eyes closed and ears open she listened carefully.
“She is lucky that those kids found her when they did. Another day and she might not have made it,” the nurse said with sympathy in her voice. “I can’t imagine why someone would hurt a young woman this way. With her injuries, I’m surprised she is even alive.”
The doctor, focused on his job, merely grunted a reply. He had seen much worse in his ten years on the job. He wasn’t emotionally attached to the patients like the young, novice nurse. “Monitor her closely,” he finally said as he jotted notes on Miamor’s chart. “As soon as she wakes up, inform me and call this detective.” The doctor handed the nurse a card. “He would like to speak with her immediately. They’re running her prints now to see if they can gather some information on her.”
Miamor’s internal alarm sounded off. She was in trouble. If those fingerprints came back, her juvenile records would pop up, giving them her government name. She had committed so many murders over the years that there was no telling how many times she had slipped up. In her mind, she had been so careful, so untouchable when she hit her marks, but all it took was one mistake . . . one partial fingerprint to lead the police directly to her. Every doorknob she had ever touched was now threatening her anonymity. Had she been careful, every time, all the time? Miamor couldn’t be so sure. Miamor tortured herself as she scrolled through her mental Rolodex, recalling every nigga she had ever hit, but the possibilities were endless. If those fingerprints came back, her freedom was in jeopardy.
She waited until the nurse and doctor left the room before she shot up out of her bed.
I’ve got to get out of here, now!
She reached over and shut off the machines, then ripped the IV out of the front of her hand, wincing as blood tricked down her wrist.
“Hmm!” she grunted while using all of her might to meander out of the bed and stand to her feet. They instantly gave out underneath her, and she fell hard to the cold tile floor. Miamor gripped the side of the bed, struggling to pull herself to her feet as she kept her eyes trained on the door. What should have been an easy task took all of her effort as perspiration gathered on her forehead. She steadied herself, panting hard as she willed her knees not to buckle. Her legs trembled like leaves in the wind and threatened to give out at any moment. Miamor had never been so weak in her life. The painkillers they had filled her with numbed the pain, but did nothing to erase her fatigue.
Miamor’s fear was greater than anything she had ever felt. Her back was against a wall, and Mecca had taken all of the fight out of her. She struggled over to the door, using the bedrails as support as she slowly made her way across the room. Her body urged her to quit, but desperation fueled her shaky limbs.
By the time she made it to the door, she felt as if she had run a marathon. The thin fabric of the hospital gown clung to her sweaty body, and her eyes were wide in alert. Nothing had ever taken so much energy or effort to accomplish.
The walls of the hospital were the equivalent to death row. She was just waiting around to die . . . waiting for Mecca to get wind of her whereabouts and come finish the job as he had promised. The light in the hallway blinded her as she put her bare feet on the cold tile. Miamor felt the room spin, and she closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall to keep herself upright. Her deep breaths calmed the world around her, and when she opened her eyes a few stray tears slid down her cheeks.
Overwhelmed, she took a step, avoiding eye contact with everyone around her as she crept along the wall. Nurses and doctors hurriedly bypassed her, too busy to notice that she was out of place. Miamor slid into the first supply closet she found. She rummaged through it silently, taking everything she could possibly need. When she found a pair of nurses’ scrubs folded on the shelf, she immediately changed into them, knowing that they would help her blend in with the other workers.
Miamor tossed the hospital gown and stuffed gauze, alcohol pads, and a scalpel into her pockets before exiting again. This time, no one noticed her and she fit right in as she made her way slowly to the elevators on her floor. If anyone had looked down, her shoeless feet would have given her away.
She slid into the elevators and sighed in relief as they shut behind her. Miamor’s body was threatening to shut down, but she knew that if she lost her strength, she was dead.
DING.
The elevator doors opened in the lobby and when Miamor saw the entrance to the hospital, her heart fluttered. She was so close to freedom that she could taste it. Miamor walked out into the lobby, but when she saw three uniformed police officers enter the building, she halted. She turned instantly and crept into the stairwell, heading down.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she whispered as she half ran, half stumbled down the flight of steps. She burst into the basement, but stopped in shock when she saw the dead bodies lying on cold metal slabs. Footsteps behind her resounded as she heard someone descending the steps. There was nowhere to run. Like a fly trapped in a spider’s web, Miamor was stuck, and in her current state she was too weak to fight.
Miamor rushed over to the wall and fear pulsed through her. The steel wall housed metal drawers where bodies could be stored. Miamor pulled open a drawer, finding a stiff, cold body lying on a slab. She quickly closed it and moved to the next drawer. Another body. She looked back at the door, hearing a man’s voice as it drew near. She rushed to the next drawer. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was empty. She climbed on top of the metal slab and shuddered when she thought of how many lifeless souls had lain there before her. Her stomach turned and she felt as if she would throw up. Doing the unthinkable, she slid the drawer closed.
The instant drop in temperature caused her to shiver. Her chest heaved as if she had just run a marathon, and her mind played tricks on her as she imagined the bodies around her. It was so cold that her teeth chattered, and she covered her mouth, blowing into her hands to create some warmth.
The space that she was in was so tight that she could barely move. Claustrophobia set in as Miamor began to feel trapped. She had always been so composed, so strategic, but at this moment she was feeling emotional, irrational, and the death that surrounded her sent chills down her spine. Miamor wasn’t used to being so vulnerable, and if she didn’t get out of there she would crack.
She listened as the coroner worked, listening to music and humming carefree while she froze inside her hiding spot. She didn’t know how long she would make it without giving herself away. Suddenly the entire refrigerator illuminated and Miamor gasped as one of the metal slabs slid out. Miamor looked left, then right, and her eyes widened in horror as she realized how many dead bodies surrounded her. Some of them hadn’t even been processed yet. Open gunshot wounds and lifeless eyes were all around. Her hands trembled as she cupped her mouth and she quickly snapped her eyes closed. It felt like she was lying in her own coffin, and if she didn’t calm herself she would explode. Her anxiety built as tears of frustration overwhelmed her.
Stay quiet . . . just stay quiet,
she urged herself.
The clang of the drawer closing caused her heart to drop into her stomach. This had to be punishment for the murder count she had racked up. Now death was outnumbering her, and she felt as if she was going to lose it.
Miamor was tortured for four hours as she waited for the coroner’s shift to end. When she finally heard the coroner leave for the night, her limbs were so frozen that her body was numb. Miamor pushed her feet against the wall in front of her, causing the drawer to burst open. Her blue lips trembled and her teeth chattered as she climbed down.
Miamor stumbled toward the counter and leaned against it for support as she shivered uncontrollably. Her entire body tensed when she heard the door to the morgue clatter open. Like a deer in headlights she turned around. A middle-aged woman in a white lab coat stared back at her, stunned.
“Hey! What are you doing down here? This area is—”
Miamor doubled over and groaned in pain, clenching her abdomen, interrupting the woman’s line of questioning.
“Oh goodness! Are you okay?” the woman asked as she crossed the room to come to Miamor’s aid. It was the biggest mistake she could have made. Miamor slid the ten-inch scalpel from the pocket of her stolen scrubs and using all of her strength, she arose and wrapped her arm around the woman’s neck.
“If you move or scream, I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear. You got me?” she asked.
The woman was scared shitless and nodded her head in compliance.
“Now, who else are you expecting to come down here?” Miamor asked. The woman was paralyzed in horror, and Miamor pricked her skin with the blade, causing a small trail of blood to begin to flow.
“Please don’t hurt me,” the woman pleaded.
“Then answer my question,” Miamor said. She was so weak that the woman could have easily overpowered her, but she kept her voice steady, deadly, and strong, hoping that the woman didn’t test her.
“No one. I’m the third shift coroner. I work alone,” she replied. “Are you going to kill me?”
“If you do what I say, you’ll be fine,” Miamor said truthfully.
Miamor’s mind spun as Mecca’s threats clouded her judgment. He’d told her to disappear. Miamor knew that she had no choice but to run—run and never look back. The only problem was the two bad bitches she was leaving behind. Aries and Robyn would never stop looking for her. As long as they thought she was alive, then their loyalty would keep them searching for her.
I’ve got to die,
she thought.

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