The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [86]
Miamor smiled and watched him intently as he took a sip out of his wine goblet.
“I want to talk to you about something important,” Carter stated. He didn’t wait for Miamor to respond. “I’m into you, Miamor, but there are some things that you don’t know about me, or about my family.”
I know all I need to know about your family. Miamor tried to conceal her hatred behind her eyes.
“Tomorrow is not promised to me right now, ma. My family is at war with some very dangerous people, and I don’t ever want to put you in jeopardy. My father and little brother have already been murdered behind this beef. I’m willing to accept the fact that I could be next, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. It’s not safe for me to be with you, and believe me, it’s so hard for me to say this to you, but right now is not a good time for this, Miamor. I can’t bring you into my world right now. I would kill a nigga if he ever tried to hurt you. I love you, ma, but I’m no good for you. I have to let you go in order to keep you safe.”
Miamor couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. It was like his words were medicine to her ailing heart. Her conscience immediately began to turn on her. How could she hurt a man who cared so much about her? She was more than capable of taking care of herself.
Carter didn’t know it, but she was the safest bitch in the city because she would pop a nigga without regret for running up, but just the simple fact that he wanted to take the burden off of her shoulders and protect her himself touched her.
Carter picked up his fork and brought it to his mouth. All she had to do was let him eat the food.
I can’t, Miamor thought painfully. She stood and swept all of the food off the table in one dramatic motion. “Aghh!” she screamed in agony as she picked up a glass and threw it at the wall in frustration. The glass shattered into tiny pieces, reminding her of how her heart felt the day that she’d held her dead sister in her arms.
“Whoa! Ma, what the fuck you doing, yo?” Carter moved toward her to restrain her temper tantrum.
“I can’t do this.” She shook her head from side to side. The emotional levees in her gave way, and tears built in her eyes.
“Miamor, calm down,” Carter said as he took her into his arms.
“I can’t do it,” she cried as she breathed deeply, trying to contain herself.
Miamor wanted to get back at The Cartel for taking her sister away, but how could she, when her heart and her mind was pulling her in two different directions?
Why in the fuck did he have to tell me he loved me? Why did he have to make it so real?
Her brain felt like it was going to explode. She was playing mental chess with herself. She wanted Carter to be her opponent so desperately so that she could follow the rules of the game and defeat him. She wanted to bag his queen, not be it. She yearned to kill his family, but her heart wouldn’t let her, and she was quickly beginning to realize that her only opponent, the only person standing in her way of her revenge, was herself. Her heart was following a completely different set of rules, rules that were unfamiliar to her. Her heart was begging her to open up and allow herself to feel happiness with a man. To trust a man, to believe in a man . . . her man, Carter Jones.
The emotions that she felt for him were so foreign to Miamor that they scared her and caused her to question her loyalty. In her world, hesitation never existed. There was no room for it. That was something that could get you murked in her profession. Murdering a nigga had always been simple. Some people were good at math, others good at sports, many good at singing or painting, but Miamor was good at death. When she declared war, she brought it to a nigga’s doorstep without fear, without doubt, but with swagger and expertise. Now her job seemed so complex, and she didn’t know what to do.
How did I let him get this close? she asked herself.
With her back to the wall, she used it for support and slid down until she felt the floor catch her. She pulled