The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [12]
Mecca came closer to Young Carter and stared him in the face while saying harshly, “This ain’t my fuckin’ brother. He ain’t a mu’fuckin’ Diamond!” Mecca gripped his pistols tighter, refusing to believe the obvious.
Young Carter returned the cold stare at Mecca, not backing down whatsoever, but he still remained silent. Young Carter was respectful because he was aware that his presence presented a conflict to the Diamond family, but he wasn’t about to back down from anyone. And the way Mecca was gripping his pistols caused Young Carter’s street senses to kick in. He slowly slid his hand to his waist, where his own banger rested. He stood up so that Mecca wouldn’t be standing over him. Young Carter was a bit taller than Mecca, so he looked down on him, not saying a word.
“Mecca, he is your brother! Sit down and let me explain,” Taryn yelled, trying to reason. She rushed over to Mecca as the two men stared at each other intensely. “Mecca!”
“Fall back, bro,” Money said as he stood up.
Mecca jumped at Young Carter as if he was about to hit him, but Young Carter didn’t budge. Not even a blink. Young Carter grinned, knowing that Mecca was trying to size him up.
“That’s enough!” Polo made his way over to them.
Young Carter kissed Taryn on the cheek and whispered, “Sorry if I caused any more heartache. I didn’t come here for this.” And before Taryn could even respond, he was headed for the door.
“Yo, wait!” Polo said as he followed Young Carter out.
“Let that bitch-ass nigga go!” Mecca yelled as he continued to pace the room.
It took all of Young Carter’s willpower not to get at Mecca, but he figured that he would give him a pass for now.
Polo caught up to Young Carter just before he exited the house. “Yo, youngblood, hold up a minute.”
“There’s no need for me to be here. I don’t know why I even came to this mu’fucka anyway,” Young Carter stated, an incredulous look on his face.
“Listen”—Polo placed his hand on Carter’s shoulder, trying to convince him to stay—“Mecca has a lot on his mind right now. The family really needs you.”
“Look, fam, I ain’t got shit to do with them. I just came to pay my respects and keep it pushing, nah mean? Brother or not, next time homeboy step to me like that, I’m-a rock his ass to sleep.” Carter clenched his jaw.
Polo took a deep breath and saw that Carter was noticeably infuriated, but kept his composure out of respect. Young Carter reminded Polo of his late best friend in so many ways. Polo looked into Carter’s eyes and said, “Just give me a minute to talk to—”
Carter cut him off mid-sentence, not wanting to hear any more. “Look, I’ll be at the Marriott off South Beach until tomorrow night.” With that, he left Polo standing there alone.
Chapter Four
“They were willing to murk women, children, hustlers, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It didn’t matter, anybody could get it, if the price was right.”
—Unknown
Carter flipped through the different denominations of bills as he diligently counted the cash that he had just acquired from his flip. After the drama he had experienced during his father’s funeral, the business he handled in Atlanta made the trip better for him. He would now leave the Dirty South $180,000 richer. This was definitely worth the trip, he thought to himself as he admired the hood riches that lay scattered across the hotel bed.
He put the bills in ten-thousand-dollar stacks and wrapped rubber bands around each one, to keep the money organized. He counted the cash a second time to verify that his money was on point. He was thorough when it came to his paper. It was the one thing that he knew he could depend on. Money was his first and only love. Getting money came first in any situation, and he was determined to keep his pockets fed.
A knock at the door interrupted his thought process, and out of habit, he grabbed his pistol from the nightstand