Tale of the Murda Mamas Read online

  “I want your word,” Fabian said as he pointed the gun back at Miamor. His aim was so shaky that even if he pulled the trigger he would miss his shot. His nerves were shot, and he truly feared the woman in front of him. He knew that whoever made her the way she was had to be ruthless. He hated her, but he didn’t want to be the one to bring her death in fear of the repercussions. “If I let you go, you won’t come for me. Say it!”

  Miamor bit her tongue, because she knew that it wasn’t a promise that she could keep, but she extended it anyway in order to save herself. She swallowed what felt like a lump in her throat, but the salty taste of blood let her know that even if Fabian let her go, she could still die. Time was of the essence, and her body was letting her know that if she didn’t get help soon, she would be going to meet her maker. She and her sister would be reunited sooner than she thought if she didn’t get out of there. “Let me go. You have my word.”

  Fabian approached her slowly and kept his shaky aim on her as he removed one of her hands from the duct tape. He then backpedaled toward the stairs. Miamor’s eyes never left him. They were like a constant threat as he took the stairs upward one by one, until finally he reached the top. Miamor nodded and watched him rush out of the door.

  As soon as he disappeared from her sight, she let out a scream of excruciating pain. “Aghh!” she yelled as tears filled her eyes. She used her free hand to try and remove the rest of the tape from her body. Her grip was so weak, which made the effort of freedom so much harder to attain. She was hurt, badly. She could barely breathe, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t free herself from the chair. The world around her spun wildly as if she was on a merry-go-round. In frustration, she rocked the chair back and forth as she struggled to loosen her arms. Come on! Get the fuck up! Get out of this! You cannot die down here! she cried silently, forcing herself to move.

  Miamor put two hands on the ground and attempted to stand again. She resembled a child who was learning to walk for the first time as she put her arms out to steady her balance. She closed her eyes to stop the spinning and stumbled as quickly as she could up the stairs. She fell repeatedly as blood poured from every opening on her body. Her eyes burned from the chemicals Mecca had doused her with. She could barely see; the world through her eyes was one big blur, making the steps almost impossible to climb. Her bleeding legs, back and arms were unbearable. She didn’t care that she was naked; all she wanted to do was get out of there. She needed to get to a hospital quickly. She burst from out of the basement with a desperation she had never known. Panic set in, and her legs threatened to give out. She stumbled out of the abandoned house and onto the city street. She saw people and urged her body to carry her in their direction.

  “What the fuck?” she heard someone say. “Oh my God!” another voice called out.

  Her vision blurred, and the merry-go-round in her head spun faster and faster as she grasped at the air for support that wasn’t there. “H… h… help me!” she whispered. These were the last words that left her mouth before she collapsed face first. Her head hit the pavement with a sickening thud, causing her entire world to go black as blood flowed onto the streets.

  * * *

  “Help! Somebody help me!” Breeze yelled. She felt the branches and leaves hitting her face and arms like whips as she ran full speed through the thick jungle. She felt the dirt and rocks underneath her bare feet, cutting them and nicking them as she ran, but her only concern was getting away from a crazed Ma’tee. She scrambled desperately, crying to herself as she made her way. She didn’t know where she was going. She just wanted to get as far away from Ma’tee as she could. She was going to run as long as her legs allowed her to. She could hear his voice yelling her name, and it only encouraged her to run faster. His voice echoed through the jungles that sat in the secluded Black Mountains, and sent chills through Breezes spine.

  She had been locked in his basement for the past eight months, and finally got a chance to escape when Ma’tee had gotten comfortable and let her upstairs. The warm rays of the sun felt unfamiliar to her, because her body had become adjusted to the confinement of the luxury basement that she had been trapped in.

  Breeze couldn’t see anything but tall, green exotic plants and leaves as she brushed past them with both hands in front of her, pushing them aside to protect her face. She ran and ran until the sound of Matee’s voice faded in the distance behind her. She stopped to catch her breath and sat at the base of a tree while looking around in fear. She breathed heavily as tears streamed down her face and her lungs worked in overdrive, desperately searching for more oxygen. The air was thin and muggy, which made it hard to breathe due to the high altitude of the tall mountains.

  “Where the fuck am I?” Breeze asked herself as she rested her hand on her chest and felt her heart beating rapidly. Her eyes scanned her surroundings anxiously… desperately as she stood back up to continue her escape. Little did she know, she was just wasting her time. The jungle’s shape was a gigantic circle, that lead right back to Ma’tee’s palace.

  While Breeze breathed heavily in attempt to catch her breath, she felt a painful pinch near her ankle. She quickly jerked her leg back and began to examine it, but she didn’t see anything. She directed her eyes directly on where the pain was coming from, and noticed a small blood puddle on her ankle that resembled a bite. The sting instantly became an excoriating hurt, and she began to grimace while rubbing the small bite. She tried to stand up, but she quickly was knocked back to her bottom because of her dizziness. Her sight began to blur and sweat beads began to form, eventually trickling down her forehead as she began to experience hot flashes. Before she knew it, she had passed out at the result of all of the pain.

  Hours later Ma’tee found Breeze passed out against that same tree, defeat written all over her face. He smiled as he whispered, “Sleeping Beauty,” as he approached her. He took his time before going after her after she had escaped, knowing that it was impossible for her to navigate her way out of the jungles. It was nearly impossible for someone to exit the Black Mountains if they didn’t know them like the back of their hand. Ma’tee approached Breeze and ran his finger through her hair, hoping she would wake up. He noticed that she didn’t move and was sweating profusely. She was still breathing, but something wasn’t right. He shook her with force, but still didn’t get a response.

  Ma’tee then looked at the exotic tree that she was lying underneath, and noticed that it was a black oak tree. He quickly became nervous and scooped up Breeze into his arms. Her body was limp, and she wasn’t responding to his touch whatsoever. “See what chu un done to chu self?” Ma’tee said in his heavy Haitian accent. Ma’tee noticed the thin red streaks going up Breeze’s legs, an indication of a spider bite. He instantly knew that she had been bitten by a black widow, one of the most poisonous spiders found in the Black Mountains. The black oak was known for housing their nests. He knew that he had to get her back to the house before it spread any further. He had antivenom back home, and knew it was only a matter of time before the bite would kill Breeze. He held Breeze securely in his arms and headed back to his place to administer the medicine to his beauty queen.

  * * *

  Zyir sat in front of the thick glass that separated him and his mentor, Carter. He watched as the guard escorted Carter to the seat. Carter wore an orange jumpsuit, and Zyir noticed that being incarcerated hadn’t changed a thing about him. He still had the same confident swagger he possessed the day he went in. He had grown a small beard, but besides that, Carter looked the same.

  Carter sat down and looked across at the young man that he had molded into his likeness. Zyir picked up the phone and placed it to his ear. Before picking up the phone, Carter paused and smirked as he looked at Zyir.

  “Good to see you, my nigga,” Carter said after he finally picked up the phone.

  “Good to see you too, Carter. How you holding up?” Zyir asked with sincerity all in his voice.

  “I’m good. Ready to see th
at outside, feel me?” Carter said with intensity in his eyes.

  Zyir nodded his head, already knowing what Carter was getting at. “I feel you. I just been waiting for the word, fam,” he replied as his adrenaline began to pump.

  Their former comrade had turned snitch, and was set to testify against Carter in the upcoming trial, which was set to start a week later. The authorities let Zyir go in aspirations of catching the big fish, which was Carter. The judge had let Zyir out on bail, but held Carter after the DA had informed him of Carter’s kingpin status. They saw him as a potential flight risk because of his international drug ties and his unlimited finances, so he was forced to remain behind bars.

  “I want you to start putting everything in motion. We un’ let them have their time to shine. Now it’s my turn,” Carter said, referring to the media and the District Attorney’s Office. They had made it a big deal in the local and national media that they had captured the head of one of the most treacherous drug rings in the south: The Cartel. They had news conferences displaying the drugs recovered from the bust, and acted as if they had Carter’s conviction in the bag, but little did they know.

  Carter was just holding his cards for the right time, and since the trial was approaching, it was his turn to make his move. The only thing linking Carter to the drugs was the testimony of Ace. Ace was once Carter’s right hand man, but folded under pressure and cooperated with the law; wrong move.

  “Everything’s taken care of. Mecca is on it now,” Zyir said as he slightly grinned.

  * * *

  Mecca looked down and watched as his shaft disappeared and reappeared at the expense of Sheila’s head game. He placed his hand on the back of her head as he tried his best to stay hard as she pleased him. He was in no way attracted to the girl that was going down on him, but it was all business, and he had to do what he had to do to get his brother, Carter free. He was back in Flint, Michigan, Carter’s old hometown, and also the hometown of Ace’s snitching ass. Ace was in the custody of the FBI, under the witness protection program, so he had to lure Ace to him, rather than go after a federally protected man.

  “I can’t believe this shit!” Mecca mumbled under his breath as he looked at the rolls that hung out of Sheila’s haltertop. He didn’t mind being with a girl with a little meat on her bones, but Sheila was straight up sloppy. She let herself go after Ace got her pregnant, and a couple months after she got knocked up, Ace left for Miami with Carter and Zyir.

  Mecca had been dealing with Sheila for over a month and played the role of a man who was falling in love, but in actuality, he couldn’t wait until Ace slipped up and contacted her. His time was running out because of the upcoming trial, at which Ace was scheduled to take the stand. Carter was sure to get life on the drug trafficking charges if convicted.

  “I want some of this dick,” Sheila seductively said as she rose up and began to slowly take off her clothes.

  Mecca stood up with his tool in his hand and watched attentively. He wasn’t at all fascinated by her body, but when he saw juices dripping from her pulsating womanhood, he got hard as a missile. His pole grew two inches longer as he stepped out of his pants and slowly stroked himself as she got completely naked. The veins in his rod began to show, and his blood began to flow to his tip. Mecca reached for a condom out of his pants pocket and gave it to her so she could do her trick, which was putting on the rubber without using her hands. He watched and threw his head back and prepared for the ride Sheila was about to take him on. Once Mecca was protected, Sheila straddled him and let him ease into her wetness.

  “You like that, Chris?” Sheila asked as she called Mecca by the wrong name.

  Mecca almost didn’t answer, forgetting that he told her a fake name to conceal his true identity. “Yeah, I like that, ma,” Mecca answered just before he took her left breast into his mouth and palmed both of her big cheeks.

  Sheila rotated her hips in slow circles while moaning loudly and throwing her head back in pleasure. The sounds of skin smacking echoed throughout the small apartment, which must have awakened the baby, because crying erupted from the next room over, interrupting their sexual flow.

  “Ooh shit!” Sheila said as she tried to get as many strokes in as possible before she had to go check on her infant baby boy. “Let me check on my baby,” she said as she stopped moving and hopped off of Mecca, leaving him with a stiff one.

  Mecca watched as she walked away, and stared at the tattoo that was on her lower back that read “Ace.” The thought of Ace made Mecca furious, as he held his rod in his hand.

  Just as Sheila got the baby to stop crying and laid him back into his crib, her house phone rang. Mecca looked at the caller ID while alone in the bedroom, and saw that the call was from a blocked number. He quickly sat up and called to Sheila, “Want me to get your phone?” he asked, knowing that Sheila wasn’t going to allow that.

  Sheila hurried back into the bedroom so that she could pick up the phone. She didn’t want Ace to call and find out that she had another nigga in her house. She knew that the money would stop if he knew her little secret. “I got it!” Sheila replied anxiously as she picked up the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, baby,” Ace said on the other line in a low calm voice. He was at a payphone in Wyoming right outside of the motel where he was being held until the upcoming trial. He looked around to make sure that the federal agents didn’t see him at the pay phone. They weren’t supposed to allow him to use the phone at all, but he snuck out while they were asleep to talk to his baby mother. “I miss you,” he added.

  “I miss you too, baby,” Sheila said as she walked out of the room and gave Mecca a signal to be quiet by putting her finger on her full lips. “Where are you at, Ace? I have been worried about you. I haven’t heard from you in months,” she said as she stood in the kitchen with one hand on her hip.

  “I can’t tell you that right now, Sheila. But anyway, how my shorty doing?” he asked in concern as he kept looking over his shoulder to check and see if the coast was clear.

  “He’s fine. He’s in there sleep right now. He misses his daddy though. I have been worried sick about you. I can’t get a phone call or anything, huh?” Sheila asked with obvious irritation in her voice.

  “I’m in some heavy shit right now, but everything is going to be okay in a couple of weeks,” Ace said, thinking about how he would start a new life in Wyoming under the witness protection program. He planned on taking his ‘hood rat baby mama and settling down so they could raise their son together. He thought that neither Carter nor Zyir knew about his son, but the streets were talking, and it didn’t take much for Zyir to find out Ace’s little secret. When Zyir found out about the baby, he quickly put Mecca on Sheila.

  “I hope so, because we need you here with us,” Sheila responded as she smiled at the sound of Ace’s voice. She almost forgot that “Chris” was in the back waiting for her to have sex, and she peeked back toward the back of the apartment and saw him opening the refrigerator. She slightly tensed up. She didn’t even hear him creeping up behind her while on the phone. She placed her finger on her lips once again to remind him to remain silent. She looked away from him and continued to listen closely to Ace.

  “Have you been getting that money I’ve been sending you?” Ace asked.

  “Yeah, I-” Before Sheila could finish her sentence, a loud blast erupted and her brains were all over the kitchen wall. Mecca stood behind her with a smoking gun as he watched her body collapse and the bloody phone fall to the floor.

  “Sheila!” Ace yelled as he jumped at the sound of the blast through the phone. “Sheila! What was that?” he yelled into the phone as his eyes began to shift nervously while he gripping the phone tightly.

  Mecca let off another round in Sheila’s twitching body for good measure, and reached down to pick up the phone. He had been waiting for Ace to call for weeks, and his wish had just been granted. “What’s going on, playboy?” Mecca said with enthusiasm as if he was greeting
a friend.

  “Fuck!” Ace scoffed as he took the phone from his ear and put it on his chest. He already recognized Mecca’s voice and his heart rate sped up. He hoped to God that the second gunshot wasn’t for his son. He slowly put the phone back to his ear.

  “Listen real close, okay? Your bitch is already gone to meet her Maker. Now it’s your choice if you want me to send lil’ Ace right behind her,” Mecca said as he went to the back, set his gun on the dresser and picked up Ace’s baby boy. “Hey, lil’ man!” Mecca said in a playful voice while still holding the cordless phone to his own ear so Ace could hear him clearly.

  Ace sat and listened to the giggles of his own son, and regretted not taking his own flesh and blood out of harm’s way. “Don’t touch my mu’fuckin son!” he seethed in between his clenched teeth.

  “Whoa, whoa! Hold up! You are not in the position to be barking orders, homeboy. You listen to me, and I’ma tell you what you are going to do,” Mecca commanded as he held lil’ Ace in his arm and rocked him gently. “You aren’t going to testify against my man. You are going to get up there on that stand and catch amnesia, feel me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. Just leave my kid out of it, man,” Ace said in a pleading tone.

  “Should of thought about that before you got to singing like a mu’fuckin’ bitch. Snitch-ass nigga!” Mecca yelled, getting upset just at the thought of Ace being a rat.

  Ace remained silent, knowing that he couldn’t possibly snitch on Carter and The Cartel anymore. Too much was on the line. He would rather face federal charges himself than leave his newborn son at the mercy of a nigga like Mecca.

  “If Carter gets convicted, say goodbye to your son. It’s all on you,” Mecca threatened just before he hung up the phone and dropped it. He held Ace’s baby up and blew on his stomach playfully, making lil’ Ace laugh and squirm. Mecca smiled and hoped that he wouldn’t have to send the baby to the same place he had just sent Sheila. He didn’t want to be a killer, but snake niggas like Ace left him no choice. He stared down at the baby in his arms and whispered, “It’s all up to your daddy, lil’ man. It’s all up to your snitching ass pops.”