Tale of the Murda Mamas Read online

  Tale of the Murda Mamas

  Ashley

  Jaquavis

  Diamonds are forever… or are they? The Cartel runs Miami, and loyalty to their organization runs deep, but when someone breaks the rules, things may be beyond repair. A snitch in the crew has dismantled the notorious Cartel, and now disloyalty threatens to tear the family apart. Young Carter is in the fight for his life, as he faces drug kingpin charges due to the treachery of his best friend, Ace.Kidnapping, murder, deception, and seduction fill this highly anticipated sequel. Will Zyir find out that Breeze is still alive? Will Mecca be exposed as his brother's killer? Is Miamor dead or alive? Ashley and JaQuavis are back with The Cartel 2. Their twisted tale of deceit will have you on the edge of your seat, trying to figure out what happens next.

  Ashley, JaQuavis

  Tale of the Murda Mamas

  The second book in the The Cartel series, 2009

  Previously in The Cartel

  Miamor’s hands shook as she guided Carter’s Range Rover out of the parking lot, and 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 on Mecca’s face when she told him that he poisoned his own flesh and blood. She knew better than to drink anything that Mecca gave her, and she wanted him to feel the hurt that she did when she lost her only sister, so she gave it to Taryn. It might have been coldblooded, but that was the rule of the game: an eye for an eye.

  Miamor pulled up to a red light, and without warning, a strong hand covered her mouth. She could smell an intoxicant on the rag that was suffocating her, and she 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 mirror. 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 foot on the gas, and the car began to swerve wildly. “Aghh!” she screamed as she scratched at his arms, forgetting she was driving. Her eyes widened when she felt the car go out of control. It spun wildly and crashed violently against the brick wall on the side of the street, and she couldn’t help but think that this was the day she was going to die.

  * * *

  “Hmm!” Miamor moaned as she drowsily opened her eyes and became coherently 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… she 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 as she began coaching herself. She knew that she had to remain calm, because if she began to panic she would surely die. She was 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 had awakened. She needed to level the playing field and free herself from her constraints before she faced him. She tried to see through the darkness that had enveloped the room. Where the fuck am I? she asked herself. 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 she 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 mouth 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. Her body was shivering 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 Miamor to wake up. She was responsible for the murders of both his mother and sister. He was itching to kill her.

  As Mecca flipped the light switch, he appeared before Miamor’s eyes. Her vision was blurry. All she saw was a shadow standing in front of her. “What the fuck? I can’t see!” she whispered as she shook her head 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,” Mecca threatened.

  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 he circled around her as if he were 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. Mecca brought the chain up and swung it with as much force as he could over Miamor’s body. A large red welt formed on her thighs where the chain had struck her, 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 red blood on her legs. Mecca brought the chain down on her again, this time using more force.

  “Aghh, f… 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. 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. “Aghh!” The chain whipped her again, this time hitting her bare breasts and stomach.

  “You’re not gon’ beg like your sister, bitch? Huh?” Mecca asked through clenched teeth as he hit Miamor repeatedly. Her bloody body resembled that of a runaway slave, and he found pleasure in bringing so much pain to the person who was responsible for his sister and mother’s deaths.

  “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! I’ma put your ass in the dirt just like I did your sister,” Mecca stated. He had beaten Miamor for so long that he was out of breath and sweating furiously. He threw the chain to the ground and retrieved the bottle of ammonia from the corner. He knew that the liquid fire would eat through her skin like acid as soon as it doused her open wounds. He unscrewed the top and splashed the poisonous liquid all over Miamor’s bloody body.

  “Aghhhhhh!” Her blood-curdling scream was enough to make the average man cringe in regret, but Mecca continued his relentless assault on her without mercy.

  Miamor felt like she was burning alive. Her eyes, legs, arms, hell even her hair hurt. She knew that she would never make it out of the basement alive. Mecca had too much to prove. “Thy Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

  “Who you praying to, bitch?” Mecca asked, taunting her as he slapped the words from Miamor’s mouth. “I am God.”

  Miamor could hear the insanity and hate in his voice. She knew that he wasn’t going to stop beating her until there was nothing left to beat. She couldn’t change that fact. This was her fate. She felt herself growing faint, and regardless of Mecca’s taunts, she continued, “… Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven…”

  The chain seared through her skin once more, but
this time she didn’t scream. She was past the point of pain. She was near death. She felt the walls closing in on her. She could see the shadow of the devil standing behind Mecca. She knew she wasn’t destined for Heaven. She had too much blood on her hands. She had sinned beyond reproach, and the devil was waiting until she slipped into grace to snatch her soul and damn her to hell. She knew it. She embraced it. She was a bad bitch, and she was going to die like one.

  As Mecca’s fist collided with her face one more time, she slowly turned her head toward him and spit the blood from her mouth. “Fuck you, Mecca! I hope you enjoy watching me die, just like I enjoyed watching your mother and sister die, mu’fucka!”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Mecca yelled, her words chastising him more. He grabbed the ammonia, pinching the sides of her mouth harshly, and poured the chemical down her throat and on her face.

  Miamor struggled against his grasp, desperately trying to close her eyes and mouth. It burnt her lips and nose. It was much hotter than any fire she had ever felt. She saw the Grim Reaper stepping closer to her.

  “I got something for you, bitch. I’m not gon’ kill you. I’ma let my man handle you,” he sneered.

  Miamor watched as the devil stepped closer to her, and as Mecca walked out of the room. Her heart jumped with each step the devil took. His face came into view, and when it was fully visible, her eyes grew wide in shock. Fabian! she thought in disbelief. The shadow in her peripheral vision wasn’t the devil, but a part of her wished that it had been. Surely death would have been better than what Fabian had in store for her. He had a score to settle, and she closed her eyes to finish talking with God.

  “Give us this day, our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…” Her voice broke, and tears filled her eyes, because she knew that Fabian had the worst intentions for her. He leaned into her, his hot breath blowing against her burning skin.

  “It’s too late for prayers, bitch. You’re gonna die tonight,” Fabian stated with no emotion.

  Miamor couldn’t believe that her past had come back to haunt her. This was the same scary mu’fucka who had begged her for his life just months ago, and now he was standing before her, getting ready to take her life. “I should have cut off your fucking balls when I took your dick, mu’fucka! Do what you got to do, nigga. Fuck you!” Miamor stated as she regained her composure.

  Fabian punched Miamor with so much force that her jaw collapsed on the right side. She felt the weight of her face as her jaw caved in. She cringed, absorbed the pain, recited the Lord’s Prayer in her mind, and then spit the teeth and blood onto the floor. She sat up straight and prepared herself for what was in store. She hoped for a quick death, but she knew that it was not going to happen, so she breathed deep squared her shoulders and forced herself to open her eyes, ignoring the agonizing pain from the chemicals in her eyes. She stared Fabian directly in the eyes and smirked. This nigga ain’t a killer. He’ll never be like me. Fuck it! If I’ma go out, it ain’t gon’ be on my knees. “Fuck you!”

  Prologue

  “I’m going to kill you, bitch!” Fabian threatened as he prepared to finish the job that Mecca had started. Miamor’s body was giving up on her. She shook violently from the cold that was settling in. It’s so cold… so cold! she thought as her teeth chattered. Death loomed in the air like an elephant in the room. She could feel death coming. She didn’t fear it-unlike the bitch nigga in front of her-she embraced her fate. She smiled slightly, because she knew that she would see Fabian in hell and wouldn’t hesitate to get it popping. Even in death, she would be sure she had the last laugh.

  She couldn’t fight Fabian off of her. She was too weak, and on this day, she felt it in her soul that she was going to die. She knew that she was at a disadvantage. For the first time in her life, she was the weak one. She was at the mercy of the man in front of her, and to make matters worse, she was personally responsible for his strife, so he had something to prove. Miamor knew how niggas thought, and by cutting off his dick, she had robbed him of his manhood. His pride was wounded, and because of that, he would show her no mercy.

  The fact that she was a female didn’t mean shit to Fabian. He had seen firsthand what she was capable of. He had been her victim, and now she was his. Fate had tipped in his favor, and karma was a bitch… a big bitch. He was determined to get his revenge, and it would be sweet… slow and sweet.

  Miamor was confined to the chair. The ties dug into her skin, rendering her helpless while Fabian attacked her. She felt each blow as he struck her repeatedly. The impact of his fists invaded her brain, terrorizing her existence. Oddly enough, she was grateful for Fabian’s attack, because it was much less vicious than the tyranny Mecca had bestowed upon her. Miamor began to laugh slightly because she realized that even at her weakest state she was still stronger than Fabian. Mecca’s blows had left her helpless, and made her respect his ruthlessness. Mecca was her equal. His murder game matched her own, but Fabian was beneath her. At this moment, he was physically stronger than she was, but mentally he was pathetic, and she could still sense that he feared her, which is why he hadn’t hit her with all his might.

  “What the fuck are you laughing at, bitch?” Fabian asked in frustration as he struck her again, enraged that he wasn’t making her feel pain like Mecca had.

  Miamor had begun to cough up blood, but that didn’t stop her from laughing. Her bloodstained teeth agitated Fabian even more as he watched her spit out a glob of blood. She knew that the only way to get out alive was to get inside of Fabian’s head. She had to tip the scales in her favor again. She was going to make him fear her without even laying hands on him. He had no heart and she sensed it. She, on the other hand, had the heart of a lion and was about to eat him alive.

  Fabian eventually stopped hitting Miamor and staggered away from her. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he looked at her in confusion. His chest was heaving in exhaustion

  This bitch is crazy! he thought as the dismay he felt spread across his face.

  “I let you keep your life last time,” Miamor said as she spit blood from her mouth. She was dizzy and she knew that she didn’t have much time. Her life was on a countdown. She was slipping away. Her energy was low, and she could feel her life fading. Her body urged her to succumb to the pain, but her mind and strong will pushed her forward. If this was her day to die, then so be it, but she had never given up anything without a fight. She was going to fight for her life, and her weapon of choice was her mind.

  “What?” Fabian asked. He was in disbelief at how resistant Miamor was to pain. He didn’t know that she was suffering in agony, because she would never allow him to see it.

  Miamor was fucking up his mental, playing a game of mental chess where she devised the rules. She could see the hesitation in his eyes. All she had to do was keep talking. “You think my girls don’t know where I am right now, Fabian? Even if you do kill me, there are two bitches just like me that are still out there, and they are going to come for you, my nigga,” she said.

  “Bitch, you can’t threaten me,” Fabian said nervously as he slapped her once more, the force behind it fading even more.

  “I don’t make threats, sweetie. I make promises. What? You think they won’t know who did this to me? Your fingerprints and DNA are all over this fucking basement, dummy! They’re all over me, Fabian. We do this for a living. It’s not a game with us. We let you live last time. You can kill me, but you better know that my girls are gon’ come for you, and next time, they are going to do a lot more than leave you dickless. They’re coming, Fabian…”

  Fabian’s eyes shifted around the room as if he was the one who was there against his will, as if he was looking for an escape.

  Miamor coughed violently and her breathing became labored as she struggled to keep her strength. Keep talking, Mia. Talk yourself right out of this shit, she thought. “They’re coming, Fabian. Now, you just got to decide. Are they coming to rescue me? Or are they coming to murder you? K
illing me won’t make you a bigger man. You’re stepping into the big leagues by fucking with me, Fabian. Are you ready? Do you think you have what it takes to kill someone like me? Every action has a reaction. Even in death, I can touch you, Fabian. Trust!” she spat.

  “Fuck!” Fabian shouted as he began to pace back and forth in the room. He was torn. He didn’t want to see the wrath of the Murder Mamas, but at this point, he felt like he was in too deep. He couldn’t turn back now. He pointed his gun at Miamor, deciding to just kill her and get it over with. His finger wrapped around the trigger, but when his eyes met hers, he saw the devil in them. His lip began to quiver. He lowered his weapon. “I know you’re not just going to let me get away with this. Even if I don’t kill you, you’re going to come for me.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Miamor said. “The point is that you have a chance to live if you don’t kill me. You show me favor, I might show you mercy. But if you kill me, then you might as well set your watch, nigga, because within the week, you’ll be eating hollow points.”

  Fabian fidgeted, his hand began to shake, and he put his hands over his ears to drown out her words. “Set your watch, nigga! You’ll be eating hollow points within the week.” Miamor’s words echoed through his brain, and what had started out as a planned murder was becoming a game of survival of the fittest.

  Fabian didn’t know it, but he had just transferred the power right back into Miamor’s hands by letting her fuck with his psyche. If he had been smart, he would have killed her quick, but he had given her time to think. He had given her the opportunity to bring it to his ass, without even knowing that she had just conquered him mentally. No doubt about it, if Miamor was a nigga, she would have been an American Gangster. She was just that crucial. Even while teetering at the edge of death, she refused to lose.