Carter respected Zyir for his loyalty and support. Carter wasn’t an optimist, however. He was a realist, and he wanted to prepare his little nigga for his potential conviction.

“Zy… Carter cleared his throat and rubbed his growing goatee as he stared intently at his protégé. You know there’s a possibility that this could all end badly for me.

Zyir shook his head in denial and replied, “Nah, fam. Shit is going to work itself out. Before you know it, you’ll be home.”

Carter nodded his head and didn’t press the issue further. He just wanted to put it out there. He knew Zyir like the back of his hand. He had planted the seed in Zyir’s head, and knew that Zyir would make the necessary plans just in case.

“Why hasn’t Miamor been to see me? I can’t reach her by phone. Have you heard from her?” Carter inquired.

Zyir shook his head. He hated to be the one to tell him the news, but thought he deserved to know. “Mecca heard she skipped town right after your arrest,” Zyir stated.

Carter frowned and replied, “Skipped town?” The news was disturbing to hear. Nothing about it resonated as true in his heart. His case had nothing to do with her, and he knew that the only time a bitch was leaving town was if she was running away with a bag full of money. Miamor never had access to his paper, and he had never involved her in his illegal dealings, so she had no reason to run. It didn’t make sense to him, but he knew that he was in no position to worry about her whereabouts. If and when he got out of prison, he would handle the situation; until then, he stored the information in his mental Rolodex.

After Zyir informed him of the state of The Cartel, their visit was cut short. He had a lot to think about. He had played the game for many years, and now it seemed that it had finally caught up to him. His judgment day had arrived.

Mecca emerged from the family mansion cautiously as he looked around him in paranoia. He knew that his grandfather, Emilio Estes, would not stop until his head was on a platter, and that his power was far reaching. Mecca had no idea who Estes was going to send at him, so he watched his back wherever he went. He slid into his Lamborghini and left rubber in his path as he sped off toward the lawyer’s office.