by Ashley
Ma’tee tried to run under his kitchen table for protection, but he never made it. The roof caved in and crushed him, burying him in debris. Breeze witnessed Ma’tee’s death just before the roof crushed her also. Breeze was instantly knocked unconscious as the earth crashed down on top of her.
This natural disaster had made an imprint on Haiti’s country that would be talked about for years to come.
* * *
Carter walked through the cellblock with a folded blanket and thin pillow in his hands. Two guards escorted him to his cell as the sounds of the rowdy inmates echoed through the corridor. Carter walked at his own pace with his head held high. The sound of someone yelling, “The Cartel is in the building!” sounded off, and Carter smirked, knowing that some of his soldiers were on his cellblock. The feds had come in and locked up most of his crew, and some of them were in the same penitentiary Carter was currently at, which meant Carter was still in a position of power.
“Stop right here,” the guard said as they approached the last cell on the block.
“Open D-one!” he yelled down the corridor. Moments later, the door slid open, exposing a heavy set Latino man with a salt-and-pepper beard. He looked to be in his mid to late fifties.
“Garza, you have a new celly,” the guard said, referring to him having a cellmate.
“You know the rules. My cell is not to be shared!” Garza objected as he sat up from his bunk and placed down the book that he was reading.
“The prison is full and there is no other place he can go. He has to come in here,” the guard said as if he were explaining to Garza rather than telling him.
“I don’t want a nigger in my cell,” Garza said as he gave Carter a dirty look.
Carter nodded and gave Garza a small smirk just to piss him off more.
“It is what it is, Garza. He’s your cellmate. Step in,” the CO said as he stepped to the side, clearing the way for Carter.
Carter stepped in and placed his things on the top bunk. Moments later, the guard yelled for the cell to be closed and the door slid shut, leaving Garza and Carter alone in the small room.
“Don’t get comfortable. You won’t be in here for too long,” Garza said as he sat back on his bed and focused on his book.
Carter hopped on his bunk and ignored Garza’s comment, not wanting to make any enemies so soon. He smirked and shook his head, knowing that Garza didn’t realize whom he was talking to, or the power that Carter had. But the truth was that Carter didn’t realize the power and connections that Garza possessed.
* * *
Robyn walked into the crowded courthouse. Her expensive pencil skirt and matching cropped jacket with ruffle top gave her a professional appearance that allowed her to blend in with the lawyers and officials that filled the building. She smiled at the security guard at the entrance as she placed her briefcase on the conveyor belt and then stepped through the metal detector. With her Hermès briefcase in hand and a cardboard tray of Starbucks in the other, she seamlessly bypassed security. Her five-inch heels click clacked across the wooden floor, her step so precise that one would think she was on a runway. She slipped into courtroom A. She peeked at the schedule and noticed that the next trial would not take place for another hour. It was more than enough time to handle her business and disappear.
Just as she suspected, the stenographer was a light-skinned young woman with cute features. The presiding judge had a thing for young black girls. Robyn walked inside and smiled humbly at the girl.
“Hi, I’m Vanessa. I’m the new stenographer for Courtroom B. I’m supposed to be training underneath you today,” Robyn stated. The lie came off of her lips so smoothly as she put down her things and extended her hand to the girl.
“Oh, no one told me that I was supposed to be training today. Um . . . well . . .” The girl seemed to be put on the spot and completely unprepared for the task at hand.
“I think that they said they were replacing girls because of them being ill prepared,” Robyn added slyly as she watched the girl’s eyes grow wide in concern.
“Right . . . of course. I remember now . . . the training session today. I’m Melissa,” she said as if she had suddenly remembered.
Robyn smiled and grabbed one of the cups of coffee. “Well, Melissa, it’s nice to meet you. I can’t get through my day without my morning cup of coffee,” Robyn said as she extended the cup to the girl. “Consider this as the student bringing the teacher an apple. It’s my way of sucking up on the first day.”
Melissa accepted the coffee and nodded toward the chamber doors. “You better go introduce yourself to Judge Marrell. That’s who you should have purchased coffee for. He’s the one to suck up to,” Melissa stated playfully.
Robyn winked and replied, “So I’ve heard.” She then made her way to the large wooden door and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” she heard the judge say, and she slid inside the plush, prestigious office. The middle-aged white man looked up at her from his desk. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m Vanessa Riley from the District Attorney’s office. I’m here to drop off some motions from our office,” Robin stated, making up another lie on the spot. She had been doing this for so long that it was nothing for her to switch personas. Lies were more familiar to her than the truth.
“Let’s see them, Ms. Riley,” he said as he gave her his undivided attention.
Robyn set her briefcase on his desk and unhinged the gold clasps.
“Why haven’t I seen you before? I thought I knew everyone from the D.A.’s office,” Judge Marrell said.
As Robyn pulled the papers from her briefcase, she replied, “You do know everyone from the D.A.’s office.” She smiled and he looked at her curiously. Robyn removed the paperwork from her briefcase and set it in front of the judge.
As the judge looked over the papers, he stated, “What is this? These aren’t from the D.A.’s office.” He looked up at her in confusion.
“I have a message for you,” she stated. She removed a ruler from her briefcase and leaned across the desk. Before he could even protest, she swiped the metal edge across his neck. The normal metal of the ruler had been replaced with a razor blade, and cut through his flesh effortlessly. Blood gushed from his wound as he grasped at his bleeding throat. His eyes widened in fear as he silently pleaded for her to help him.
“Frankie Biggs sends his regards,” Robyn stated.
The judge couldn’t believe his ears. A man that he had sentenced to life in prison just weeks before had reached out from behind the wall and ordered his execution. For the right price, the Murder Mamas would hit anyone, including a state judge.
As soon as the judge’s head hit the wooden desk, Robyn stood up and walked out of his chambers. She bypassed the young girl, Melissa, whose head was face first on her typewriter. The cyanide-laced coffee had done its job to perfection.
Without looking back, Robyn exited the building unnoticed, with a satisfied smirk on her face. She waltzed down the stairs outside the front of the courthouse and slipped into the black Benz that was waiting for her curbside.
* * *
Aries pulled away discreetly, and without any words, they got ghost in the wind. Aries felt the engine purr beneath the hood of her Mercedes as she pushed the beautiful car along the California coastline. The wind whipped through Robyn’s hair as she pulled off the honey blonde wig that was her disguise.
The mystery that lay behind their designer shades was more deadly than any onlooker could ever imagine. Business was good, as usual. After the tyranny that had taken place in Miami, they had started anew in the City of Angels. There was more money to be made on the West Coast than they had ever encountered before. Leaving bodies in their path, their murder game had soared to new heights.
Still, they couldn’t help but feel like a fundamental piece to their puzzle was missing. What had started out as band of five ladies with murder as an agenda had quickly become four, but then four had turned to three, and now after
all the bullshit, the last two were standing. Too many mistakes had caused their numbers to dwindle, and not knowing where Miamor was weighed heavily on both of their minds.
The West Coast had been the plan all along. It had all been Miamor’s idea. They would take Miami by storm and stack their paper, until Murder was released from prison. That had all been tossed aside when Carter Jones entered the picture. Miamor had forgotten her own rules and gotten so caught up in her emotions that she had broken their cardinal rule: Money over everything.
Now Murder was out of prison, Miamor was nowhere to be found, and it was up to them to fill him in on everything that had gone down since the last time he had seen her.
“What are we going to tell him when he asks about her?” Aries asked as they pulled up to the Union Station bus terminal.
“We’re going to tell him the truth: Miamor chose a nigga over him and over us,” Aries replied uncertainly, knowing that Murder would not receive the news well. When they had contacted him to let him know their whereabouts, they never mentioned that Miamor had not relocated to L.A. They hoped to get him there first and inform him later, because they knew he could help them bring Miamor home and talk some sense into her.
Aries pulled into the parking lot of the station and put the car in park as both she and Robyn peered anxiously toward the door.
“Didn’t his bus get here like an hour ago?” Robyn asked.
“He’s here. He’s watching us. Murder don’t move until he’s ready to. That’s where Miamor got it from,” Aries replied confidently as she recalled the many stories that Miamor had shared with her about the man.
Finally, Murder came sauntering out of the station, his pants low, fitted hat worn over his eyes, while his head sat on a swivel neck as he surveyed his surroundings. Even though no pistol dwelled on his hip, his hand was instinctively planted there.
Robyn smirked as she popped the locks for Murder to enter the car. “You’re all the way in Cali. Who you looking for?”
Her tone was playful, but his was not when he replied, “I’ve popped niggas in Cali.” With that, he ducked low in his seat and pulled down his hat as Aries put the car in drive.
“Where’s Miamor?” he asked immediately. She was whom he had made the trip to see. After years of lockup, their reunion was inevitable.
“We have something to tell you.” Robyn turned around so that she was facing Murder. “In the letter we sent you, we didn’t tell you everything.”
“Where’s Miamor?” Murder asked again, almost impatiently.
Aries was silent as she drove. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as Robyn spoke up.
“She’s not here. She decided to stay in Miami. She’s fucking with the same niggas that murdered Anisa,” Robyn stated.
Murder’s temperature went through the roof as his jaw tightened and his brown eyes turned black. “My li’l mama wouldn’t do that,” Murder replied assuredly as he stretched out across the backseat of the car.
“It’s not exactly how Robyn is making it sound,” Aries cut in. “When we went to Miami, we accepted a contract to hit a group called The Cartel. Anisa was murdered, and after that, everything spun out of control. Miamor met this nigga named Carter. She fell in love with him, but did not know that he was affiliated with The Cartel.”
“Affiliated how?” Murder asked. His words were calm, but the blaze behind his stare revealed his true emotions.
“He’s the brother of the nigga that killed Anisa,” Robyn finished. “When we left, she stayed behind. She’s not the same, Murder. That nigga Carter got her all fucked up in the head, and we need your help to get her back.”
Murder was livid as he processed everything the Murder Mamas had told him. He had been gone for too long. He was out of touch with the streets, and even worse, out of touch with Miamor. Although he had never expected her to wait for him, hearing that she was so loyal to another man sparked a flame inside of him that he tried to snuff out long ago. He was ready to go retrieve Miamor, and anybody who stood between them could get it.
They rode in silence, until they reached the condo that Robyn and Aries shared. As they walked up their walkway, they immediately noticed that things were not as they left them. The curtains in the living room window had been shifted slightly, and the piece of clear tape that they had put at the top of their front door had been ripped in half, indicating that someone had come in or out of the condo.
Aries put her finger to her lips and pulled out her 9 mm pistol as she stepped into the condo first. Their place was untouched; nothing was out of place, but they knew that someone had crossed their threshold. They filtered through the place, going in separate directions, until every room had been checked.
“There’s nobody here,” Murder stated.
“But somebody’s been here,” Robyn stated as she finally noticed the medium-sized packing box that sat in the middle of their kitchen island. She picked it up, and Aries gasped as she noticed the blood-stained bottom.
“Robyn,” she said as she pointed at the red color.
Murder walked over to her and removed the box from her hands.
He opened the box, and when he noticed what was inside, his stomach folded, causing him to bend over as if someone had punched him in the gut.
“What is it?” Aries asked in a panic as she watched Murder’s reaction.
Tears filled Robyn’s eyes as she shook her head back and forth in disbelief. She ran over to the kitchen sink as the contents of her stomach erupted from her mouth.
“What the fuck is it?” Aries asked again as she stormed over to the box, but Murder stopped her in her tracks as he wrapped one hand around her throat.
“Why did you leave her there?” he asked. “You should have never left her in Miami!” he stated, his eyes ablaze with anger.
The mixture of devastation and rage that twisted his features told Aries all that she needed to know. She violently slapped his hand away from her neck and rushed over to the box. Her heart felt as if it shattered into tiny pieces when she saw the severed hand that lay inside. The cursive Murder Mama on the wrist revealed her identity. It was Miamor. They knew that only one person could be this ruthless.
“She’s dead,” Aries whispered in disbelief.
Robyn stood from the sink and walked over to Aries as they wrapped their arms around each other. “We shouldn’t have left her,” Aries whispered regretfully.
There was an address written on the inside of Miamor’s hand. It was a sign of respect that only someone in their profession would understand. It was Mecca’s way of letting them know where they could find her body.
Without turning around, Murder stated, “I want to know everything you know about The Cartel.” No more words needed to be spoken. They all knew what had to be done. It was time to go back to Miami.
Chapter Two
“Please, God, let somebody come for me.”
—Breeze
Every inch of Breeze’s body ached unbearably as the weight of Ma’tee’s home rested on top of her. “Help me!” she screamed, her voice raspy and sore from strain. For two days, she had been trapped beneath the rubble. She was trapped next to Ma’tee’s decaying body, and the smell was slowly driving her insane. His dead eyes haunted her as they stared in her direction. She could still hear his voice in her head, terrorizing her, telling her that she would never escape, and she felt nothing but utter hopelessness, because she knew that no one even knew where to begin looking for her.
Breeze’s body wanted to give out on her. Without food she was weak, but she knew that she could not give into death. She had to make it out of this alive. She had come too far to die now. Ma’tee could no longer hold her captive.
All I have to do is hold on. Someone will come, she thought. They have to. She sucked on the wet dirt beneath her to provide herself with some type of water. It was all that her body was surviving on, but she knew that it would not be enough for her to make it much longer.
Being trapped beneath the steel and concrete was like being buried alive.
Physically, she knew that she was injured, but she blocked out the pain as she tried to keep her mind strong. She knew that once her will disappeared she would die, so she tried her best to remain calm. Her father had always told her that panic sent logic right out the window, and she would need to think clearly in order to survive.
The excruciating heat made her feel as if she were roasting in a cement oven. The blocks resting on top of her baked beneath the sun all day, burning her so badly that it felt as if a hot iron were being placed to her skin.
She was grateful when the sun began to set, but the night brought on a completely different set of problems for Breeze. The sounds of the jungle terrified her, as the wildlife was attracted to the scent of Ma’tee’s corpse. She wished that she could cover her ears, but her hands were smashed beneath the rock, and the only thing she could do was close her eyes.
Zyir’s face popped into her mind as she tuned out the sounds of the night. He had always been her voice of reason when she needed him, and as she visualized him in her mind, she realized that she couldn’t quite remember all of the details of his face. Too much time had passed, and she no longer held his exact features to memory. It was then that she grew more determined than ever to make it home. Please, God, let somebody come for me, she prayed.
She had very little faith that her prayers would be answered. Speaking to God had not saved her from Ma’tee’s torture, so she was skeptical that He would spare her from this. She was tired of the hardship that had become her life, and a part of her wished that she had been the one to die when the earthquake first hit. It seemed that Ma’tee had been granted the easy way out, while she was left to suffer.
She could feel herself dying slowly. With every minute that passed, her heartbeat slowed down. It was only a matter of time before it gave out. Breeze suffered through the sounds of the night with her eyes closed, but sleep never came. Her nerves were too on edge for her to rest. The ground had not stopped shaking beneath her. Every few hours, another aftershock set off more destruction, shifting the house on top of her and causing her even more pain. The threat of it falling in on her completely was a constant threat. Any second she could be crushed to death, and the impending circumstance caused her body to tremble.