The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [68]
The man loomed over her and gently tapped her, whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Leena quickly smacked his hand off her, and tears formed in her eyes. She knew one of Mecca’s goons was there to finish what he had started.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, Leena,” the man said as he sat at the edge of her bed.
“Who are you, and how do you know my name?” Leena scooted to the opposite side of the bed, trying to get as far away from him as she could. She grimaced as she felt the pain in her arm. She clenched her stomach, all the while keeping her eyes on the man in front of her.
“My name is Emilio Estes. Monroe was my grandson,” he said as he dropped his head, noticeably saddened.
“Was? What do you mean, was? Where is Money?!” Leena’s face frowned up.
“He didn’t make it. He’s gone.”
Estes stood up and wiped the tear that threatened to fall. The thought of Monroe’s death made him weak. He quickly regained his composure and stared into the eyes of the woman who would birth his great grandchild. He had been with her throughout the whole time she was in a coma.
When he got to Leena’s house on the night of shooting, he was the first to discover that the Haitians had left Leena alive and that she was carrying a child. He’d arranged for Leena’s status to be kept a secret and got her moved to the top floor of the hospital, where they usually admitted celebrities and people of prestige. The doctor told him that the baby would be fine, and he was determined to make sure Leena would be taken care of until she delivered his first great grandchild.
Leena stared aimlessly in complete shock. The words that left Estes’ mouth sent a dart straight to her heart.
“He’s gone? No, he can’t be,” Leena said as her voice began to shake. Her whole world had just crumbled, knowing that the only man she ever loved was gone.
“His funeral was a couple of days ago. Sorry, sweetheart,” Estes said as he stepped closer to the bed.
Heartbroken, Leena broke down in tears and cried like a child.
Estes put his hand on her hair, slowly stroking it to comfort her.
She gripped her stomach, remembering that she was carrying Monroe’s child. Fear sunk in as she wondered if her baby was okay; it was the only piece of Monroe she had left.
Estes noticed the sudden look of worry in her face. “The baby is fine, Leena,” he said.
Leena took a deep breath and buried her face into her hands. “Thank God. Thank God, my child is safe,” she whispered as she continued to cry a river.
Estes wanted to be supportive of Leena, but revenge was the main thing on his mind. He wanted to affirm that Ma’tee’s Haitian mob was responsible for the killing.
“I know you are going through a lot right now, but I have to ask you a question. Who killed my grandson?”
“Your grandson,” she repeated as she briefly stared him in his eyes.
Estes took the cigar out of his mouth and slightly frowned, “What did you say?’ he asked in a heavy Dominican accent.
“Mecca killed Monroe. Mecca did it.”
Estes was at a loss for words as he clenched his teeth and involuntarily balled up his fist. He was hurt by her words, and his anger got the better of him. He angrily grabbed Leena by her hand and squeezed it tightly. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me!” he yelled.
“I’m not lying, I swear to you. Mecca shot both of us. He went crazy. Monroe and I were fooling around and he walked in. But I wasn’t serious with Mecca. Monroe was the one I loved.”
Estes caught himself and released Leena’s hand. He shook his head from side to side and remembered the look in Mecca’s eyes at the funeral. He knew something wasn’t right with his only living grandson. Estes was a firm believer in family morals and loyalty.
What Mecca had done was the ultimate betrayal, and Estes quickly disowned him. Estes was from the old school and played by the rules. If you went against the family, you weren’t considered family anymore. The thought of vengeance was the only thing he could fathom. He motioned to the man that was in the corner of the room to come to him.
Leena was startled. She didn’t even realize that they weren