The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [78]
Carter detected the melancholy tone in her voice and knew that she was at her breaking point.
Breeze glided into the room with the accurate style of a supermodel. Her long hair was in its natural curly state and was held back by a silver headband. She wore black leggings with an H & M silver mini dress and silver Hollister flats. Her face lit up when she saw her brother.
“Carter! I didn’t know you were here,” she stated as she ran to hug him.
“Breeze, I want you to meet my best friend, Ace, and my little nigga, Zyir. They are like brothers to me. They are the only people besides me and Polo that are allowed to enter this house. No one else has my permission. They are the only ones I trust with your lives. We have to keep you both safe, okay.” He spoke sternly but gently as he tried to stress the importance of his rule to his hardheaded little sister.
“Okay, I understand. I’m about to go, but I’ll call you later on.”
“Hold up. Where you going?” Carter asked.
“To the beach and out to meet with an event planner. Poppa used to always throw a white party for the Fourth of July, so I’m throwing my own this year, you know, to get my mind off of everything.”
“That’s cool, B, but I want you to do me a favor and take Zyir with you,” he said.
Breeze looked past Carter toward Zyir. His chocolate skin and medium build attracted her slightly. The tattoos that adorned his arms and neck appealed to her. He may not be too bad, she thought.
Carter smirked at his sister’s blatant interest in his friend, but knew that Zyir would never be interested in a girl like Breeze. They were from two different worlds.
“Okay, I’ll take him,” she answered as she walked out of the door.
Zyir didn’t know that he was going to be babysitting, but he agreed just because his man asked him to.
Breeze pulled her two-seater BMW-Z series from the garage and pulled up in front of Zyir.
“You coming or not?” she asked sweetly as she put on oversized Chloe glasses.
As Zyir reached for her door, she pressed her gas slightly, making the car move forward without him.
“You playing, shorty? I ain’t gon’ chase you, ma,” he said, his vernacular smooth and low.
Breeze laughed. “I’m sorry. Come on, get in.”
Zyir shook his head as he entered the car, and they rolled off.
Breeze was silent as she cruised through the Miami streets. She didn’t know what to say to Zyir and felt awkward around him. It was clear to see that they were extremely different, but he was sexy, and she loved his dark skin. His serious demeanor reminded her of her father.
“You don’t talk?” Breeze asked innocently, once she had grown uncomfortable with the silence between them.
Zyir smirked as he let his seat back and sat down low in the car.
“What, you don’t want to be seen with me or something?” she asked, frowning.
Zyir looked at her. “Breeze? Is that your name?”
She nodded.
“Breeze, I talk. I just don’t like to talk when there ain’t nothing to talk about. I don’t talk about shopping or gossip or gay shit like that. My conversations revolve around one thing.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“Money.”
“Money ain’t everything.”
“What you know about getting money, girl? You’ve been spoonfed your whole life.” Zyir wasn’t trying to be rude, but he wasn’t one to hold his tongue.
“So what? You judging me? Yeah, I grew up with money, but don’t act like you’re the only one who’s struggled. My father died trying to give me the best of everything, so you damn right, I’m gon’ take advantage of everything that he left me. Ain’t that what you trying to do? Provide for your family? Or are you only worried about pushing new whips and bullshit like that?”
“I’m just doing me, shorty, that’s it. I don’t got no kids to think about, and bitches ain’t worth the headache. So, right now, I’m about stacking my chips, nah mean?”
When she didn’t reply, he answered for her, “Nah, you don’t know what I mean.”
“Why are you so rude? Is that how you niggas in Flint get down? You act just like Carter.”
“Carter basically raised me. He’s the only father figure I know. I met him four years ago