The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [49]
A solitary tear leaked out of her eye, and she quickly brushed it off her face. She set the picture back on her dresser, turning it face down as she walked out of her bedroom. Every time she looked at something that reminded her of Anisa, she broke down. No matter how much Miamor’s girls tried to convince her otherwise, she continued to blame herself for her sister’s death.
She stopped in her hallway and looked down at her sister’s bedroom door. It was closed. She hadn’t stepped foot inside it since Anisa had been killed. She just couldn’t bring herself to look at her sister’s things. She quickly turned and made her way into her kitchen. She opened her cabinets and pulled out some pancake batter. Tears came to her eyes as she slammed the box of batter on the counter. She leaned onto the countertop and wept as she thought of her sister. Every Friday morning, she and Anisa would cook pancakes together. It was a silly tradition that they had shared since their pre-teen years, but it was something that she cherished. Miamor knew that she would never share another intimate moment with her sister, and it hurt her to the depths of her soul.
“Ughh!” she screamed in frustration. She hated feeling so weak. She had never been the emotional type, but her sister’s death brought out years of harbored emotions.
Miamor looked around her condominium, and everything about it reminded her of Anisa. Anisa picked out the furniture, the scent of the candles, even the food in the refrigerator, all of which served as a constant reminder of her failure to protect the ones around her.
She poured the pancake mix out of the box and turned on the faucet to rinse it down the sink. “I can’t stay here. This shit is gon’ drive me crazy,” she said out loud to herself. She opened up her kitchen drawers and searched until she found the card of the realtor that had sold her the condo. It was time for her to sell her place. I have to find a new spot. I can’t even breathe in here. She grabbed her cell phone and quickly punched in the numbers.
“Harper Spokes, please.”
Carter looked at all of the possessions he had brought back to Miami from Flint. There was no way he could continue to live out of a hotel. He had made the move South, now he needed to find his own spot. He picked up his cell and called Monroe.
“Money, this is Carter,” he stated when his younger brother answered the phone.
“What’s good, bro?”
“Aye, I just brought all of my stuff down here from Up Top. Now I need a place to put it,” he replied, laughter in his voice. “Do you have time to show me a few properties today?”
“My schedule’s pretty full today, fam, but I can get one of the board associates to take you around. You looking to rent or buy?”
Carter replied, “Come on, fam, do I look like one of these rent-a-center-ass niggas? You know I ain’t living up in no shit I don’t own.”
“Yeah, I hear you. Well, come on down to the office when you’re ready.”
“A’ight, I’ll be down there in about an hour.”
Carter dressed simply in an all-white, short-sleeve Sean John button-up with a crisp, white t-shirt underneath, his light jeans and Prada sneakers completing his hookup. Then he put on a 10-kt. necklace that had three tight rows of colorless diamonds.
After hanging his iPhone from his hip and tucking his .45 in his waistline, he was ready to go. Carter hopped in his Range, tucked his gun away in a hidden compartment behind his custom stereo, and then headed toward Diamond Realty.
When he walked into the office, he brought an instant smile to the face of the attractive receptionist sitting behind the desk.
“Hi, is there something that I can do for you?” Her eyes roamed suggestively over Carter’s