by Ashley
Fabian shuffled to their bedroom and peeked outside in the hallway. Once he saw the coast was clear, he closed the door. “It’s not just any chick,” Fabian explained. “She’s a Murder Mama.”
“Say what?” Mecca had never heard of the group, so he wasn’t impressed.
Fabian went underneath his bed and pulled out a box. Inside of it were newspaper clippings and one photo of the four girls together. “Man, I’m not in here because I’m crazy. I’m hiding from these bitches called the Murder Mamas. They’re some killers, family.” “Some bitches?”
Fabian nodded as his eyes continued to roam nervously.
“Yeah, nigga! I’m telling you that bitch was here to finish me off. Look, man”—Fabian unzipped his pants and pulled them down, revealing his chopped off genitals.
Mecca turned his head and frowned. “Whoa, fam! Pull up your fucking pants, yo. You bullshitting on that faggoty shit, mu’fucka.”
“I ain’t on no homo shit, fam. Just look at my dick, nigga. These bitches did this to me,” Fabian stated. “That bitch that was here with your visitor chopped me up.”
Mecca’s looked at Fabian in shock. “With my visitor?”
“Yeah, man. How did that bitch find me?”
“She did that to you?”
“Yeah, man, her and these two bitches—The Murder Mamas. They’re ruthless. Bitches will kill they own fucking mothers without thinking twice.” Panic-stricken, Fabian began throwing the little clothing he owned in a plastic garbage bag.
“Stop bullshitting, nigga.”
Fabian shoved the pictures in Mecca’s hands. “Look, nigga, that’s a news article on them. They almost got caught up in some bullshit in New York. Needless to say, somebody produced some big money and made the case disappear.”
Mecca’s nostrils flared when he stared at the news photo. He saw four girls—Miamor, his brother’s new chick, two girls he didn’t recognize, and Anisa, the girl he had killed in the hotel room. He knew that Ma’tee had tried to have him hit that night and had sent the girl at him. He put two and two together. He knew that Miamor had to be sent by Ma’tee to get at Carter.
“Who do they work for?” Mecca asked, to confirm his suspicions.
“Nigga, anybody who can afford their services. I heard that this boss nigga from St. Louis paid them to do a job against some hustler he was beefing with. They fucked around and killed that same nigga two months later because somebody put that cake up to have it done. They don’t have no loyalty, man. Anything is game. You see what they did with a nigga love stick, man. I got to get the fuck up out of here.” Fabian peeked out in the hall once more then rushed out of the room.
Mecca’s head was spinning. If it were under any other circumstances, he would have fucked Miamor. The fact that she had the balls to cut a nigga dick off amused him.
He had never seen any shit like that in real life, only in the movies.
Carter couldn’t have known that this chick was affiliated with Ma’tee. From what Mecca knew, Miamor had been fucking with Carter for a little while now, so he silently wondered why she hadn’t made her move yet. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He needed to get out and back on the streets so that he could keep a watchful eye over his brother’s new girlfriend, and find out more information, but he knew that if he left anytime soon, then Estes would put the dogs on his heels. Mecca decided that he would fix his problems with his grandfather first, and as soon as it was safe, he would find out more about The Murder Mamas . . . before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-one
“I am Miami, nigga!”
—Mecca
“Zyir . . .” Breeze mumbled as she held both of her legs open for him, giving Zyir a clear pathway to her clitoris. The sand on her back and the waves washing up on the shore heightened Breeze’s first sexual encounter. She had never felt the type of pleasure she was experiencing at that moment, staring into the stars and moaning constantly.
It was around midnight that Zyir had convinced Breeze to sneak out and talk with him, and what started off as a conversation ended up becoming a night of passion.
Breeze had masturbated plenty of times, but she was a virgin to a man’s touch. Zyir operated on her love box like a skilled surgeon would on a patient on the sands of the small, secluded beach just five miles away from the Diamond estate. She moaned loudly as she gripped his head tightly and moved her buttocks in a circular motion, gyrating in his face.
Zyir arose from Breeze’s warmth and looked into her green eyes. Never had he seen a woman so pure, so beautiful. “You are very special, ma,” he said in a low tone. “I want to be inside you.” He let his rock-hard pole exit his boxers.
Breeze’s body squirmed as she was soaked with her own juices. She gently grabbed Zyir’s face, and they began to kiss passionately.
As Zyir attempted to enter Breeze’s tight virgin wound, she grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him. “Zyir, you got a condom on?” she asked.
Damn! Zyir thought as his world came crumbling down. He wanted to feel her virgin walls without any latex. That was a dope boy’s dream, and she was ruining it for him. “Come on, ma, I want you so bad right now.” Zyir rubbed his tip against her clitoris, trying to persuade her to finish what they’d already started.
“No, Zyir. No glove, no love. Let’s just run to that 7-Eleven around the way.” Breeze moved his pole and sat up.
Zyir took a deep breath and gave in. “All right. Let’s go. You drive a hard bargain, ma,” Zyir said.
They both broke out into laughter and put their clothes back on.
Zyir pushed his black tinted Benz through the Miami streets like a madman. He was anxious to feel the inside of Breeze Diamond. As they approached the store, he swerved into the parking lot, almost hitting another car. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he threw the car in park and jumped out. His manhood was erect and pulsating, showing in his baggy jeans.
He walked into the store and headed straight to the front counter and grabbed a three-pack of Magnum condoms. “Let me get this and a box of lemon heads,” he said as he tossed them on the counter to the pimple-faced Asian clerk.
That’s when the bell rang, indicating someone was entering the store. Zyir’s eyes immediately shot toward the door, and he saw a beautiful woman walk through. He didn’t want to stare, but the Daisy Duke shorts she was wearing, not to mention her pumps, demanded his undivided attention. His soldier stood even straighter in his jeans as she strutted behind him to get in line.
“Looks like someting’s happy to see me,” she said in a thick accent.
Zyir looked down and saw his rod pitching a tent in his pants. He smiled as he looked back up at the girl, but he got a big surprise—A .22-semi-automatic pistol was pointed to his head.
“Getcha bitch-ass hands up,” Aries said as she gripped the gun. She looked over at the clerk, who looked like he shitted on himself. “And turn your Jackie Chan ass around before ah smoke yuh.”
Instantly the clerk put his hands up and turned around as ordered.
Zyir kicked himself for not having his gun on him. He was so worried about pussy, he didn’t even think to grab his gun out of his glove compartment before getting out of the car. He glanced out of the store’s front glass window and saw a woman stuffing Breeze into the trunk of a Dodge Charger. He immediately yelled, “Damn!” while keeping both of his hands up. He knew that the Haitians had sent for her, and watched the girl walk backwards toward the door, the gun still pointed at him.
Once she exited the door, she lowered her weapon, jumped into the Dodge, and they screeched off.
Zyir quickly ran out and went to his car, but he noticed that all four tires had been slashed. “Shit!” he yelled as he rushed to the passenger side and grabbed his gun out of the glove box. He ran to the middle of the street, busting his gun wildly, trying to hit their tires, but they were too far away. Zyir dropped to his knees in the middle of the street with both hands on his head. He had failed to protect Breeze, and guil
t consumed him. He screamed, “Nooo!”
Ma’tee smiled as he peeked through the safe house’s blind and saw the Dodge Charger pull in. He knew that their payday was soon to come, and the thought of his murdered daughter came into play. He promised himself he would make the Cartel family feel the same pain that he had just experienced.
Aries and Robyn had been tailing Breeze and Zyir for days and were waiting for the right moment to put their plan into play. They noticed that they were getting careless, and Ma’tee wanted to pounce on the opportunity. As the girls brought Breeze, a pillowcase covering her head, Ma’tee sinisterly smiled.
Ma’tee was in dire need of money since Estes’ goons had robbed all of his safes and took all of his drugs. He had nothing left. Not even one of his former workers made it; they were all dead. He was lucky he wasn’t at the house when they ambushed him. Actually he wished he was, so he could have died with his baby’s mother and only child.
Ma’tee instructed the girls to take her to the back room, where only a mattress on the floor occupied the room. When they got to the room, Robyn aggressively tossed Breeze onto the floor by the mattress and locked the door shut.
Breeze had duct tape across her mouth under the pillowcase, so she was unable to scream. Her arms were also duct taped behind her back. Fear took over Breeze’s body as she cried and used her legs to scramble to the corner. Oh my God, they are going to kill me, she thought as she tried her hardest to escape from the duct tape.
Breeze was unlike the other members in her family and hadn’t been exposed to the drugs or hands-on violence. Not built for a situation like this, panic overwhelmed her. She heard someone come in the door, and that’s when her nerves got the best of her, and she vomited. The tape caused the vomit to stay in her mouth, choking her.
I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, she thought as she choked on herself.
Suddenly she felt a strong hand snatch the pillowcase from her head and then the duct tape. Her throw-up flowed out of her mouth as she began to cough harshly.
Ma’tee stared at Breeze and was amazed on how beautiful she was. He was in total awe of her. Her silky black hair and olive skin tone were marvelous to Ma’tee’s eyes. Too bad I have to kill she, he thought as he paced the room, staring at her.
After Breeze caught her breath, she looked up at Ma’tee. “What do you want from me?” she yelled.
“Ah want revenge!’ Ma’tee said through his clenched teeth.
When Breeze heard the accent and saw Ma’tee’s dreadlocks, she knew who he was. At that point, she knew her life was on a countdown. She began to cry her eyes out.
Ma’tee just stared at her as if she was a work of art, no remorse in his heart. He walked out of the room and couldn’t wait until he could get the fiasco over with so he could return to his homeland, where he would stay for good.
* * *
Taryn was on the floor praying and crying, a scene that was becoming too familiar. She had been through more than any woman could handle the past year.
Carter pounded his fist against the wall as Zyir, Ace, Polo, and Mecca stood in the Diamond kitchen. “Fuck!!” he yelled as he read the ransom note that was left on the doorstep the previous night.
They had been out all night looking for Breeze after Zyir rushed and told everyone what had happened, leaving out the part about them about to have sex. He told them that she wanted to go for a midnight stroll to clear her head and that he forgot to bring his gun. Zyir was dying inside from guilt.
“I’ma kill that nigga!” Mecca roared as tears fell down his cheek. He looked at Zyir, who was across the counter from him, with deadly eyes, not comfortable with the fact that he was with her when she got grabbed and didn’t protect her. “And yo bitch ass probably working for the dreads!” Mecca made his way around the counter to put his hands on Zyir.
Zyir smoothly slid his hand down to his pistol. He’d already told himself that he would put a hollow-tip through Mecca’s forehead if he ran up on him.
Carter quickly put his hand on Mecca’s chest and almost in a whisper said, “Mecca, you don’t want to do that.” Carter knew his young’un would not hesitate to rock Mecca to sleep if he ran up. He’d taught Zyir himself to shoot first, ask questions last.
Mecca stopped dead in his tracks and looked Carter directly in the eye.
Carter prepared for Mecca to spazz out, but he did the complete opposite. Then there was a brief moment of silence before Mecca broke down in tears and lost his balance, falling into Carter’s arms.
Carter embraced his half-brother. “It’s okay, fam. We’re going to get her back,” he tried to assure him, even though he didn’t know that for a fact.
“They want a million. We have to give it to them.” Polo shook his head, knowing that his goddaughter was somewhere suffering.
“Yeah, I will go to the safe deposit box now,” Carter affirmed.
“No, fuck that!” Mecca straightened up and wiped his teary eyes. “I’ma beat whoever picks up the money until he tell me where Breeze is at. I’m tired of mu’fuckas underestimating our family. We’re still strong. We still run Miami! I am Miami, nigga!”
“No, Mecca, we have to give them what they want if we want to see Breeze again.” Polo looked at the note that told them the time for the drop-off and the location.
“He’s right, bruh. We have to play their game and see if they give her up first. But you have to stay levelheaded and chill with that wild shit. You have to think and play chess with that Haitian mu’fucka. If we outthink him, we will always win, trust me,” Carter said, sounding just like his father.
Mecca could do nothing but respect it. He just wanted his sister back.
Zyir and Carter sat in his Range Rover and waited for the man that was supposed to pick up the ransom money to arrive. They were behind a closed-down steel factory and seemed to be alone, but that wasn’t the case. Carter had arranged for his goons to circle the building, and Ace and Polo were on top of the factory with telescoped semiautomatic rifles, to make sure everything ran smooth.
Carter’s plan was to do the switch and have one of his henchmen tail the money, hoping that it would lead them to Breeze. He decided to make Mecca stay home with Taryn. He told him that his mother needed him, but the reality was, Carter didn’t want Mecca to do anything hotheaded and stupid.
“Yo, you ready, Zyir?” Carter pulled the duffle bag from the backseat.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Zyir said without enthusiasm, still feeling badly for falling off his square.
Carter could sense that Zyir was taking it hard, because he knew Zyir loved to bust his gun and lived for moments like this one.
“Listen, that could’ve happened to any one of us, young’un. We’re going to get her back though. Watch what I tell you,” Carter said as he saw a tinted Hummer pull up. He watched as the man rolled down the window, exposing himself.
A dreadhead who didn’t look over a day over sixteen years old appeared. He was dark as tar, with wild, nappy dreadlocks all over his head. “Yuh got de money?” he asked as he looked down into Carter’s car.
“Where’s Breeze, li’l nigga?” Carter yelled as he gripped the gun that was placed on his left.
“Yuh will get de girl after we get money, after I make call to me boss, feel me?”
Before Carter could even answer, he saw Mecca swiftly come out of nowhere on a motorcycle and pull up next to the driver. Before the young dread could even react, Mecca had him by his collar, and put a shiny chrome .380 to his head. “Where is my fucking sister? Huh?” he yelled while getting off his bike. Mecca pulled the boy out of the window and had him on ground.
“What the fuck is this nigga doing?” Carter said in frustration as he got out of the car.
He rushed over to Mecca and screamed for him to fall back, but Mecca was zoned out. He only wanted to know where Breeze was at.
“I’ma ask you one more time—Where . . . is . . . my . . . sister?” Mecca gripped the gun even tighter and dug it into the boy�
�s neck.
The boy remained silent.
Mecca, tired of playing, pointed the gun at the boy’s thigh and let off a round.
“Aghhh!” the boy yelled as he squirmed like a fish out of the water.
“Where is she?” Mecca yelled again.
The young dread was full of loyalty and honor, and he knew that if he told Mecca where the safe house was, he was going to die. He also knew that if he didn’t, he was still going to die. So he did what would make Ma’tee proud. He spat in Mecca’s face. Blood splattered over Mecca’s bottom half of his face. The young dread followed by these words, “Bitch, she’s dead. Chu’ sister is dead bitch. Me see you in hell!”
Mecca lost it. He put five bullets into the boy’s head at close range, rocking him to sleep forever, and sealing his own sister’s fate.
Carter screamed, “Noooo!”
* * *
Robyn and Aries had already packed up their things. Word got back that Ma’tee’s worker got killed, and they knew at that point that they had to kill Breeze. They were finished with Miami. Finished with Miamor. In their eyes, she had gone soft, which was against their creed.
As they boarded the plane, Aries asked Robyn, “Yuh ready to leave Miami for good?”
“Fuck Miami. L.A. is our next playground. They never saw bitches like us. Murder Mamas ’bout to takeover a new city, that’s for damn sure. We could never eat in Miami. We’ve done too much dirt here. It’s time to go,” Robyn said as they got on the plane, leaving Ma’tee to kill Breeze. They were leaving and never looking back.
Ma’tee stared at Breeze with a shotgun in his hand. He hated that he had to kill someone so beautiful, but they didn’t play the game fair. He would settle the score with The Cartel forever. As Breeze cried and pleaded for her life, he blocked the remorse in his heart. He pointed the shotgun at her head and whispered, “Say goodnight.”
Chapter Twenty-two