La Bella Mafia by Ashley & JaQuavis Page A

like I was supposed to deliver this to you.”
    Miamor lowered her gun and Fly Boogie lowered his hands while breathing a sigh of relief. She snatched the post card out of his hand. She knew that he was right; this was no incident. She hadn’t sent the post card and there was only one other person who could have. He’s alive, she thought. She looked down at it and saw a Desert Oasis printed on the front of it. Her hand shot to her mouth, covering it in disbelief. Are they in Saudi Arabia? Could this be for real? she thought as she read the wording on the front . Her worry transformed to relief as the ball of tension that her body had become melted. She looked up at Fly Boogie, unable to stop the tears from glistening in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said.
    â€œThank you for not blowing my brains out,” he replied with a sense of humor before walking off of the porch. Miamor closed the door, locking it securely behind him. She rushed upstairs, heart pounding, eyes clouding with tears of uncertainty. Oh my God please let him be alive. Let this postcard mean what I think it does, she thought as hope flared in her chest. She rushed up the stairs to retrieve her son and then picked up her phone to call Breeze. She paced back and forth, child in one hand, as she held the cell to her ear.
    â€œMiamor?” the rasp in Breeze’s voice cracked in the late night hour and she cleared her throat.
    â€œI can’t speak to you over the phone. Call Leena. Come now. It’s important,” Miamor said. She hung up the phone before she could receive protest. She wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. She was used to leading and if Leena and Breeze wanted the legacy of the Cartel to continue they had to get used to following.
    Within the hour Breeze and Leena arrived with little Monroe in tow. Miamor took the sleeping toddler from Leena’s arms. “I’ll put him upstairs in my bed,” she whispered. After ensuring that he was comfortable she joined the ladies in the kitchen. The smell of mocha thickened the air as Breeze grinded fresh coffee beans. “We’ll need it,” Breeze said when Miamor entered the room. “Seems like it’s going to be a long night.”
    Leena leaned over the island that sat in the middle of the room. She folded her hands atop of the counter as she looked up at Miamor anxiously. “What’s going on Miamor?”
    Miamor pulled the post card out of the pocket of her Ralph Lauren plaid pajama pants. She slid it across the counter.
    Leena picked it up and turned it over, surveying the front and back. Frowning in confusion she said, “You made me pull my son out of his bed at two in the morning to look at a postcard. What we doing? Taking a vacation?”
    Breeze crossed the room and took the postcard out of Leena’s hands. “Saudi Arabia,” she read. Her brow furrowed.
    â€œA li’l nigga named Fly Boogie dropped it off here,” Miamor started . . .
    Breezed nodded. “I’ve heard Zyir mention the name before . . .”
    Miamor continued, “He said it was sent to him anonymously. I think Carter is in Saudi Arabia with Monroe . . . and Zyir.”
    The entire room seemed to freeze as Leena and Breeze looked up at her, eyes wide, mouths open in shock from the possibility.
    Leena shook her head in denial. “They found a plane in the middle of the ocean Miamor,” she whispered. “They couldn’t have survived a plane crash.”
    â€œWhat if they were never on it? They didn’t recover any bodies,” Breeze said hopefully.
    â€œI know Carter. He’s reaching out to me. This postcard says nothing but says so much all at the same time. It isn’t flashy, it isn’t loud . . . it isn’t anything that can be traced, but its enough. It’s a whisper that only I can hear. I think Carter is alive. They all are but they can’t come back here, unless that case goes