The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [36]
Mecca stormed out of the house and walked across the large manicured lawn while Ma’tee and his limo approached the steel gate. They reached the exit at the same time, and Ma’tee rolled down his window.
The guard posted at the gate looked at Mecca approaching and then shifted his gaze back to Ma’tee.
“I just thought you should know why you’re about to die,” Ma’tee said as he lit a cigar and rolled his window back up.
At that exact moment Mecca reached the guard and removed his chrome 9 mm Ruger.
“Me-Mecca, I didn’t know that was—”
BOOM!
Mecca didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. The guard’s life was ended instantly as the hollow-point bullet ripped through his skull. Mecca then hit the button to open the gate for Ma’tee’s limo, and ice grilled the car as it rolled away toward safety.
Truce or no truce, I’m going to avenge Poppa’s murder. Niggas got me fucked up.
Carter was finally home after being in Miami for the past couple of weeks. He walked into his spacious two-bedroom that sat in a suburban area just outside Flint, Michigan. Carter took a deep breath as he realized how good it felt to be there. His condo was small but comfortable. He had just purchased it a year earlier. He always said, when his money got right, he would move out of the hood, and that’s exactly what he did.
The brick walls were ornamented with various Afrocentric paintings. A large picture of Bob Marley smoking a joint and playing his guitar hung above the fireplace. The place was definitely a bachelor’s pad, but Carter had decorated it pretty well. He tossed the duffle bag full of money onto his brown sectional sofa and pulled his gun from his waist and placed it on the bar-style kitchen countertop.
Carter was getting money in Flint, and it wasn’t a secret. For every getting-money dope man, there were a hundred broke niggas, so Carter knew that he was a target for the local stick-up kids in his old neighborhood. Moving out of the hood was not an option after Carter began to become a heavyweight in the streets.
Just as he was about to walk to the refrigerator and toss out some of the food he had left there, he heard a noise coming from the back. What the fuck was that? Carter scooped up his gun and listened closer. He heard commotion coming from his back room and knew that someone was trying to find his stash. His street instincts immediately kicked in. He switched his banger off safety and began to creep to the back.
As he got closer, he saw that his guest bedroom was where the noises were coming from. His door was closed, so he crept up and kicked it open, his gun drawn.
The big-butt Latino woman screamed, “Oh, daddy! Fuck me, papi!” as Ace beat it from the back.
The sounds of Ace’s balls smacking against the woman’s genitalia filled the air, and his chain jingled on his bare chest as he continued to sex the girl, while Carter pointed his gun at him. Carter smiled and lowered his gun as he chuckled to himself. He was laughing at how crazy his best friend was. He didn’t even stop pumping when he saw Carter bust in. The girl was so busy getting her back blew out, she didn’t even notice Carter come in.
Ace looked at his best friend and threw his head up, greeting him while still pleasing himself.
Carter walked out shaking his head from side to side. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave an extra set of keys with Ace. He’d told Ace to come in and check on his spot periodically, not bring his jump-offs there. “That nigga is wildin’,” Carter said in irritation as he walked to his living room and tossed his gun on the couch.
Ace and Carter had been best friends since third grade and were more like brothers than anything else. Carter didn’t like the fact that Ace had a chick up in his spot, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to cock-block his man, but he was