Sincerely,

Taryn Diamond

Carter folded the letter up and put it in the pocket of his Armani suit jacket. He had received the letter a week ago and was debating whether or not he should actually go to his father’s funeral. He had never known his father, never even heard his voice.

Why am I here? he thought in confusion as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His designer suit was tailored specifically to his six-foot frame, and his broad, strong shoulders held the material nicely. A small gold chain hung around his neck, displaying a small gold cross.

Checking his watch, he realized that he didn’t have much time to get to the church. He reached underneath the hotel bed and pulled out a duffle bag that contained pure white cocaine and two handguns. He figured he may as well drop off some dope to some of his people in Atlanta while in the Dirty South. That way, if the funeral ended up being a waste of time, he wouldn’t have wasted time and money coming to town.

He pulled out his chrome.45 and tucked it in his waist. He rubbed the waves on his freshly cut Caesar and took a deep breath. He had to prepare himself for what he was about to do. He had felt resentment toward his father ever since he was a young boy. He had never understood why he had grown up never knowing the man that helped create him. Although he harbored these feelings, he still felt obligated to show his respects.

A nervous energy filled his body as he headed for the door. It was time for him to say goodbye to a man he’d never met.

As the bulletproof limousine pulled up to the church, Carter’s henchmen walked up and surrounded the vehicle.