by Ashley
Ace sat in the interrogation room sweating bullets. He hated himself for what he had done. Two months back, he had gotten pulled over with two kilos in his trunk. The cops found it and immediately cut him a deal. As soon as he mentioned The Cartel, they knew that they had snagged the big fish. He had ratted on his own team and their leader, and for the past month, they had been putting Zyir and Carter on wiretaps, recording their conversations.
Miamor’s hands shook as she guided Carter’s Range Rover out of the parking lot as she headed for the police station. She had already contacted Carter’s lawyer, instructing him to meet her at the precinct.
After the feds searched everyone and took everyone’s names, they let the people at the party go. Miamor kept visualizing the look in Mecca’s face when she told him that he’d poisoned his own flesh and blood.
As she pulled up to a red light, without warning, a strong hand covered her mouth. She could smell an intoxicant on the rag that was suffocating her, and knew it was only a matter of time before her body lost its strength. She got a glimpse of the man’s face when she looked in her rearview. It was Mecca.
She was getting weaker by the second. The smell of the strong substance burned her nostrils as she began to slip in and out of consciousness. Trying to struggle against Mecca, she mistakenly put her feet on the gas, and the car began to swerve wildly.
“Aghh!” she screamed as she scratched at his arms, forgetting she was driving.
Miamor’s eyes widened when she felt the car go out of control, spinning wildly and crashing violently against the brick wall on the side of the street. She couldn’t help but think that this was the day she was going to die.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Yuh a long way from Miami.”
—Ma’tee
Ma’tee moved around the kitchen swiftly as he prepared a meal for his new companion. He looked at the security monitors that he had installed in each room of his immaculate home in his native land of Haiti. He had become extra cautious, some would even say paranoid, since the invasion of his home at the hands of Estes. It was the same day that fate had robbed him of his beautiful little girl.
The fresh Caribbean wind tickled Ma’tee’s neck and his paranoia kicked in full throttle, causing him to turn around with a butcher knife clasped tightly in his hand. He sliced at an imaginary enemy, and his breathing was labored as his eyes bucked wide open. He looked around in panic, but calmed himself down when he realized that there was no one else in the room.
Although he loved his homeland and its majestic tropical setting, he hated being forced out of the States by The Cartel. His entire organization had been dismantled. His most loyal soldiers were now casualties of a drug war that he himself had initiated. He was like a pariah on the streets of Miami, and to show his face right then would’ve been like committing suicide. So he didn’t have a choice but to stay low.
No one knew Haiti like Ma’tee knew it, and in order to stay alive, he needed to be in his own neck of the woods.
In fear of his life, he retreated to the Black Mountains. No one knew of his home there, and he was confident that he would be safe and could live without the intrusion of his adversaries. There were no neighbors. His 5,000 square foot home sat atop a plateau that went on for miles and miles. It was 4,000 feet above the town below, too high for sight or sound to be captured by the townspeople. He was in complete seclusion and planned to stay there until he could rebuild his empire.
He would get his revenge for the undeserving murder of his daughter. His daughter had been innocent, but she was forced to pay with her life when the Dominican mob annihilated his men. The Dominicans had taken no prisoners and felt sympathy for no one, not even his only child. When she was murdered in cold blood, Ma’tee’s world came crashing down around him because he knew that he only had himself to blame. If they can do this to me beautiful princess, what do they have planned for me? His body shuddered at the thought and he knew that he didn’t want to find out what cruelty lie in store for him.
The only time he intended to leave his fortress was when he planned to make the trip to the market for food and supplies, and his only human contact would be that of his new queen. The woman that he knew was meant for him. The voyeur in him watched her in the monitors as she slept, and a wicked smile crept across his face. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the monitor.
Since the death of his daughter, he hadn’t been the same. Something in his head, or rather his heart, was broken, and he no longer respected the social limits of right and wrong. He was no longer the composed, self-respecting man that he once was. He was now a predator, and he was staring at his prey on the monitor. His dick hardened at the sight of her. She was beautiful, and he was well aware of his growing obsession.
He was supposed to kill her, that was the plan, but once their kidnapping scheme had gone wrong, he and the Murder Mamas decided it was time for Breeze to go. When it was time to pull the trigger, he couldn’t will himself to complete the task. He was drawn to her beauty, which was just as addictive as the cocaine he sold. So instead of killing her, he drugged her and then retreated with her, taking her across the U.S. border on a private boat.
Ma’tee fixated and fantasized over his new island beauty. He admired her slim frame, her long flexible legs, and her naturally curly hair. He was positive that he loved her, or maybe he needed someone to love him, since his daughter no longer could, but either way, he needed her and was determined to keep her.
Her body curled up in a fetal position, and her hands tucked between her legs, she hadn’t awakened since they’d made the trip across the seas. The vicious beating that the Murder Mamas had inflicted upon her had left her badly injured, and right at death’s doorstep.
For six long months Ma’tee had taken great care of his young princess, nursing her back to health. Now he anxiously awaited her arousal. Her body was ripe, and ready to be plucked. He knew she was made just for him from the first moment he saw her.
He finished squeezing the juice from the fresh oranges and placed a glassful onto the tray then made his way downstairs to awaken his sleeping beauty.
She heard the heavy thud of footsteps as they descended the stairs. She played possum, not wanting to wake up and face her captors. She didn’t know how long it had been since she had been taken. The last thing she remembered was taking blows to her head with a gun.
“Diamond Princess, my princess, wake up.” Ma’tee placed the tray of food on the nightstand beside the luxury queen-sized bed.
Startled, Breeze jumped up and scrambled away from him. Her body shook as she put as much distance as possible between herself and Ma’tee. Her arms and legs were weak from being in bed for so long, but she was determined to get away. Her back hit the wall and she pulled her knees close to her body as she huddled on the bed. She surveyed her surroundings. There were no windows, only a pale light bulb illuminated the room.
It was far from a dungeon, however. Ma’tee had made sure that anything she could ever need was inside the room. The plush red carpet, imported French furniture, and marble bathroom made the space look like a studio apartment.
Breeze was instantly confused. She remembered being kidnapped, and she had heard the girls that had taken her say that they were going to kill her. What happened? Why am I here? Quivering and crying, she looked around frantically. “W—where am I?” she asked. “You can’t keep me here. My family will come for me,” she stated, her words breaking in her throat.
Ma’tee sat on the bed and crawled over toward Breeze. He felt his manhood harden. She was so beautiful, so young, and her body so tight, and now she was his and his alone. He ran his fingers through her hair, his eyes focusing on her as if he were staring at a piece of historical art.
She cringed as his fingertips touched her face and she smacked his hand away. “Don’t,” she whispered weakly.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, princess. I won’t hurt you. Just let me touch you,” he whispered lustfully.
/> “No! Help me! Please, somebody help!” Breeze screamed at the top of her lungs as she fought Ma’tee off.
Ma’tee was relentless in his pursuit. He was like a dog in heat. He just had to discover the treasure that Breeze was hiding between her legs. He didn’t care that she screamed in protest. No one could hear her. And even if she did run, there was nowhere for her to go. She would never be able to navigate her way through the Black Mountains and the Noire Forest that accompanied them.
He groped her and ripped at her clothes, as he forced his tongue into her mouth.
Breeze did the only thing she could think of and bit down as hard as she could on his tongue.
“Aghh!” Ma’tee screamed. He smacked Breeze across the face, causing her to hit her head against the nightstand hard enough to leave her disoriented.
A river the color of crimson flowed onto the white sheets, and she felt the pressure of Ma’tee’s weight as he climbed on top of her.
“Ah didn’t mean to hurt you. Ah just want to love you. Stop fighting me, my princess. Yuh belong to me now.”
Those were the last words she heard before her vision became blurry, and her entire world went black.
When Breeze awoke, her entire body ached, and Ma’tee was by her bedside, watching her. She could see insanity in his eyes. What does he want from me? She felt a pounding underneath her skull and reached up to find a bandage across her forehead.
“So yuh finally decided to awaken?” he asked. “I tasted you while you were asleep. Me never tasted pussy as sweet as yours. Me will be with you forever.”
The way he said the word forever caused a shiver to travel down Breeze’s spine. Forever wouldn’t be very long, if she had anything to do with it. She refused to live as his prisoner, even if the cell she’d been confined to was a luxury one. She’d die first. At least then, I’d be with Poppa and Money.
Tears came to Breeze’s eyes, and her hands shakily found their way to the space between her legs. It was wet, and when she examined her fingers, she noticed the blood on her fingertips. She immediately knew that Ma’tee had been inside of her. He had touched her, invaded her, and taken her against her will. Her once virgin pussy no longer existed, thanks to Ma’tee.
“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?!” she screamed, her hatred and fear evident in each word. “My family is going to come for me, and when they find me, they are going to kill you!”
Ma’tee remained calm, because he didn’t entertain idle threats. “Yuh dead to yuh family. Yuh been missing for six months. They haven’t come for yuh yet, and they will never come for yuh. Nobody knows yuh alive,” Ma’tee said, a smug expression on his face. “Me brought yuh hear to make yuh me princess. The longer yuh resist me, the harder it will be on yuh. Yuh can scream, fight, yell all yuh want, no one will hear. There are no windows for yuh to escape from. The doors are double bolted and chained. Yuh a long way from Miami. This is yuh new home. Welcome to Haiti.”
Breeze’s hopes began to die as Ma’tee’s words penetrated her brain. She knew that no one would be coming for her, if what he was speaking was indeed true. She jumped up from the bed and ran up the flight of steps. “Help! Please somebody help me!” she yelled. She looked back at Ma’tee in fear as he approached her. Her screams became frantic. “Please!” Tears burned her eyes, and her hands hit the wooden door so hard that her skin began to bleed.
In her heart she knew that it was true. She had felt the sway of the boat and heard the waves of the ocean as she was being brought over to the island. She thought that it was just a dream, a hallucination of some sort, but it was her reality. She felt like a slave and that Ma’tee was her master, the man who killed her father and brother.
“Right now yuh fear me, but yuh will grow to love me with time,” Ma’tee stated with a crazed look in his eyes. “Ah will never let yuh go. Haiti is yuh new home. When yuh ready, me will let yuh out of this dungeon, but not until yuh ready to accept your new life here as my queen. Forget who yuh were, and accept who yuh are now. No one is coming, ever. Me will kill yuh before me let yuh go.”
Breeze fell to her knees and sobbed desperately at the feet of Ma’tee. “Please don’t do this,” she begged. “I just want to go home.”
“This is home.”
Breeze reverted to her childhood ways as anger began to simmer inside of her heart. She began to demolish the room. “This is not my home!” she screamed forcefully as she threw lamps and overturned tables and chairs. “This is not my home! Let me go!”
She broke any and everything in her path as Ma’tee watched her without giving her a reaction. Once she ran out of energy and things to break, she collapsed on the floor and bawled in defeat.
“Yuh can destroy as much as yuh want and scream all day and night. It won’t change the fact that yuh here. Nothing can change that. Yuh belong to me.”
Ma’tee walked over and removed the tray of food that he’d brought her. He walked past her and made his exit. Before he left, he said, “Yuh will see food when yuh show me yuh deserve to eat. The longer yuh deny me, the longer yuh will starve.”
When he closed the door, Breeze heard the clicking of multiple locks, and all of a sudden, the entire room went black. She thought of the ones that she loved. Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes. Then she saw her brothers, Carter and Mecca. Last but not least, Zyir’s face appeared.
Please help me, Zyir. Please don’t stop looking for me, she thought as she tried to send a message from her heart, hoping that she was as connected to him as she thought she was. Even though their love was new, she hoped that it was strong enough for him to feel her presence. She needed him to believe she was alive. She needed him to get her family to come for her.
After she wrecked her body with exhaustion from crying, Breeze did the only thing that she could do. She prayed.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Who you praying to, bitch? I am God.”
—Mecca
“Hmm,” Miamor moaned as she drowsily opened her eyes and became aware of what was going on around her. “Hmm.” She tried to speak, but something muffled her sounds. She jerked against the chair that she was sitting in but couldn’t move. She shook the fuzzy haze from her mind and forced herself to become focused. Okay, Mia, okay, stay calm. You can get out of this, she thought.
Gagged and bound to a chair, her head was pounding from the impact of the crash, and she had no idea where Mecca had taken her. The odds were against her, no doubt, and she feared for her life. She knew that she was dealing with a man whose murderous abilities matched her own. Her senses were heightened, causing her anxiety to skyrocket.
She bucked against the chair quietly, trying to keep her noise to a minimum. She didn’t want Mecca to realize she was awake. She needed to level the playing field and free herself from her constraints before facing him. She tried to see through the darkness that had enveloped the room.
Where the fuck am I?
Her body ached all over, and she shook uncontrollably as the cold crept through her skin. She smelled the scent of weed burning somewhere in the room and realized she wasn’t alone. She froze instantly. Unable to see, her other senses worked overtime as they helped her locate who she assumed to be Mecca. She forced the towel out of her lips with her tongue and coughed uncontrollably as the pressure eased from her choking chest.
“What the fuck you hiding for, you bitch mu’-fucka?” she asked, her teeth chattering. Why the fuck am I so cold? She couldn’t get control of her reflexes, as her body shivered involuntarily.
“You talk a lot of shit for a bitch that’s tied to a fucking chair,” Mecca stated as he stood. He had sat silently in the dark for hours, waiting patiently for her to wake up. He was itching to kill her since she was responsible for the murder of both his mother and sister.
As Mecca flipped the light switch, he appeared before Miamor’s eyes. Her vision was blurry, and all she saw was a shadow standing in front of her. “What the fuck? I can’t see,” she whispered, shaking her h
ead from side to side, trying to clear her vision.
“That’s the bleach eating at your eyes, bitch. I’m gon’ love killing you. I’ma torture you slow, so get comfortable.”
Miamor’s eyes fell to her thighs. She was naked. Her clothes had been stripped, and she had a lot of tiny cuts all over her body. “What the fuck did you do to me?” she yelled.
Mecca didn’t respond but instead circled her as if he was preparing to attack. He carried a long, thick chain in his hands. It scratched the floor as he walked, making Miamor’s skin crawl from the eerie sound. He brought the chain up and swung it with as much force as he could over Miamor’s body, cutting her skin almost to the bone.
Miamor cringed in agony as her eyes ran with continuous tears. She was in tremendous pain. She could see the blurry hue of blood on her legs.
Mecca brought the chain down on her again, this time using more force.
“Aghh! Fuck!! You!!” she screamed. She refused to give Mecca the pleasure of crying or begging for her life.
For years she had dished out the same cruel and unusual death sentences, so if it was her time, she wasn’t going to cry like a little bitch, but be a woman about her shit and go out like the killer she was.
The chain whipped her again, this time hitting her bare breasts and stomach.
“Aghh!”
“You’re not gon’ beg like your sister, bitch? Huh?” Mecca asked through clenched teeth as he hit Miamor repeatedly. And he found pleasure in bringing so much pain to the person responsible for his sister’s and mother’s death.
“Fuck you, pussy! Faggot-ass nigga! Fuck—Aghhh!—you!” Miamor yelled. Her mind told her to stay strong, but her body rebelled against her.
“Suck my dick, you dirty bitch,” Mecca stated. “I’ma put your ass in the dirt just like I did your sister.”