The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [85]
She stuffed the smoked salmon with a lobster, portobello, and spice bake then put it into the oven. She prepared a special lemon sauce to drizzle over the top of it once it was done baking.
Miamor didn’t know how she had gotten so deeply involved with Carter, but she was ready for it all to end. She wasn’t acting like herself, and the pressure that her girls were putting on her was becoming overwhelming. She knew that she had to make a move and do it quickly, but everything was so uncertain now. Miamor’s head was spinning.
Carter had thrown shit in the game by going hard at Ma’tee. The entire Haitian operation had been disabled, and, Ma’tee, a man who she had thought was so untouchable, was now on the run for his life. She was frustrated and confused all at the same time. She felt like a trader. She wanted to kill Mecca for bringing the Grim Reaper to her sister’s door, but there were too many doubts. Too many variables had been added to the equation. An eye for eye did not seem as simple as it did before she met Carter. He was making her weak. With three little words, he’d changed who she was.
Ding-dong! The ringing of her doorbell startled her.
He can’t be here yet. It’s only eight o’clock. He’s not supposed to be here until nine.
She quickly went to the mirror that was hanging near her entryway and scanned herself. She wasn’t even dressed. Carter had never seen her dressed so casually. She wore a wife-beater with baggy sweatpants, and her hair was pulled up in a raggedy ponytail. She tried to run her French tips through her hair to make herself look a little decent, but that was useless.
She sighed deeply then opened the door slightly. “What are you doing here so early? I’m not even dressed yet, Carter.”
“You look fine,” he replied as he leaned down to kiss her on her forehead. “You don’t have to dress all up. We’re staying in anyway. This is your house, so be comfortable.”
“Comfortable is not the same as tore down,” she joked as she went back to the mirror.
Carter walked up behind her and kissed the nape of her neck as he slid his strong arms around her waist. He looked at their reflection in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, ma. Stop tripping.”
She smiled. Carter was considerate and always made her feel like she was worth more than she was, because in actuality, she felt like she wasn’t shit. He was caring, and she wasn’t. If she was, there would be no way that she could have put thallium sulfate in his dinner. She had made sure to put the odorless, tasteless powder in the lemon sauce that she planned on drizzling over his lobster. She was done bullshitting with The Cartel. She concluded that the timing would never be right for her to get at them, so tonight was just as good as any.
Unfortunately for Carter, he would be the first to go. She really needed to kill him first because then she wouldn’t have him around all the time, making it difficult for her to stay focused.
“Are you hungry?” she asked sweetly as she pulled out one of her dining room chairs and motioned for him to have a seat.
“I don’t know. Is the food safe to eat?” he asked.
His statement threw her off slightly.
Does he know? “W-what?” she asked, her eyes penetrating his.
“I mean, you know you ain’t the world’s best chef.” A smile appeared on his face.
Miamor gave him a playful left jab to the chest. “You ain’t funny, nigga,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. Relax. He doesn’t know anything is up. Stop acting so damn guilty.
Her silent demands caused her nerves to settle some, and she went to the oven and pulled out the lobster then fixed two plates of food.
Her heart began to beat so loudly in her ears that she was sure that even Carter could hear it as she placed his dinner in front of him. She lit the candles on the table, poured them both a glass of wine, and then grabbed the lemon sauce. She poured it all over Carter’s lobster then took a seat.
“This looks good, ma. Thank you for cooking for me. I know you said you didn’t like to cook. I appreciate you going through