Tale of the Murda Mamas Page 6

  “Is there a problem, my nigga?” the dude asked.

  “I don’t know. Is there?” Murder asked. The look of rage behind Murder’s eyes surprised me, and told a story all their own.

  The dude stepped back with his hands raised in surrender. “No disrespect, fam. I ain’t know she was with you,” he muttered. If he did have a chance with me, after seeing him bitch up so easily, he for damn sure didn’t have one after that.

  Murder snatched my ass all the way across the dance floor and into the back of the loft until we were in a quiet room.

  “What the fuck? Murder, why are you tripping?” I asked.

  “Don’t make me fuck one of these niggas up, Miamor!” he said in an overprotective tone. “Nigga got his hands all over you!” He was yelling, and I had never ever seen him lose his temper. I was speechless. For the first time, I saw a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. I guess I had seen it before. It had been there all along, but this was the first time that I had acknowledged it. There was something in the air between us.

  “We were dancing, that’s it,” I whispered. “It wasn’t a big deal.” We had spent so much time together before, yet this was the first time it felt awkward. My heart was racing and my palms were sweaty. I was nervous around him, not because I was afraid of him, but because I was afraid of the way he had me feeling. I didn’t want him to be mad at me or to be disappointed in me. I cared a lot about what Murder thought of me. I left the room and chilled at my table, while Murder hugged the bar until the party was over.

  After the entire place cleared out, Murder approached me with the last bottle of champagne in his hands. It had a red ribbon tied around it. “You have a good time?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I did. You’re too good to me,” I said aloud. “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. It was innocent. You acted like I was fucking dude or something.”

  “I know, Miamor. I over reacted. I don’t like the idea of a nigga disrespecting you. I will murder a nigga over you,” Murder said sincerely as he looked me in my eyes. “Pop one last bottle with me?” he asked.

  I nodded and gave him a half smile as he filled two champagne flutes. He popped the cork, causing champagne to spill over the top. “Happy birthday, Miamor!” he said. “To you!”

  “To me!” I agreed as we raised our flutes.

  One bottle turned into three as we laughed and conversed with one another. We were both toasted by the time we decided to leave. In my mind, I went over all of the times I had been around Murder. We had formed a bond with one another and it started out innocent, but as I sat across from him, I felt my heart beating furiously inside my chest. The feelings and thoughts I was having were far from right. They were not the feelings that one has for her big brother, but ones that a bitch had for a nigga she was trying to make her man. I was slowly admitting to myself that I was feeling him in a deeper way, and that fact was tearing me up on the inside.

  He held out his hand and I followed him out of the loft. My heels echoed off of the concrete floor, and when I got outside, my mouth dropped open at the sight of a silver SL 550 Benz sitting there with a red bow wrapped around it. I turned around and looked at Murder. “This is my car?” I asked.

  He smiled charmingly, and I already knew the answer.

  “Oh my fucking God!” I yelled as I ran around to the driver’s side. The keys were already in the ignition, and I admired the custom leather seats and the wood grain dash. He stood outside, leaning on the back door as I explored every aspect of the car. I jumped out and hugged him tightly.

  “Thank you… thank you… thank you!” I screamed excitedly. “This is too much!”

  Murder grabbed my hands and intertwined his fingers with mine. Feelings of guilt instantly came back, because we were both letting the liquor cloud our judgment. He kissed my forehead, something that he had done many times before, but my body had never reacted like this. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I felt like I had to throw up, while tiny darts of electricity awakened my southern lips. “Murder!” I whispered as I wrapped my hands around his neck.

  “What up?” he asked in a low, raspy slur.

  I stood on my tip toes and kissed his lips. I couldn’t help it. The voice in the back of my head that was telling me to stop was overpowered by my growing attraction to him. Murder was my brother… literally. He was Anisa’s man. Even the thought of he and I was wrong, but everything about his touch felt right, like his fingers were made exclusively for me. I was so lost in his embrace. He lifted me, his hands supporting my bottom as I wrapped my virgin legs around his back. I had an itch that I desperately needed scratched. I could smell the alcohol in the air, and I moaned as my head fell back in ecstasy as his tongue molested my neck.

  Anisa’s face popped into my mind, and almost simultaneously, Murder pulled away from me as if she had invaded his thoughts too. “Wait! Miamor, we can’t,” he said out of breath. “We can’t do this, ma.”

  I could hear the disappointment in his voice. If we had met in another time or another place, then we would have been so right for each other, but we had not. He belonged to Anisa, and I loved her more than I loved myself. How could I do this to her? I thought as I instantly sobered up, the sting of betrayal causing my eyes to burn with tears as I wiped my lips in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” I said with a hint of sadness in my voice. “It should have never gone this far.”

  “I know,” he agreed as he rubbed the top of his head. We both knew that we had just fucked up. “I know,” he repeated.

  “How do I tell my sister something like this? She will never forgive me,” I whispered. “I’m so stupid.”

  Murder pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry about it, Mia.”

  I could not stop the tears from coming down my face. “She’s going to hate me!” I cried hysterically.

  “Shh! Miamor, Shh! Don’t cry, ma. Your sister loves you. I heard about you every day before I ever laid eyes on you. You are all she talks about. She made me love you, Miamor, before I even knew who you were. We both made a big mistake. That’s it. She doesn’t have to know. I would never break her heart like that. We cannot let this happen again though. It’s not meant to be.”

  It was the first time I had let anyone penetrate my heart, besides Anisa, and I did not like the sacrifice it took to love another person. Love costs too much. I learned on that day that it was sacrificial. In order to obtain it, I would have had to hurt someone else-more specifically Anisa-and that was something that I refused to do. My sister had endured enough pain in her lifetime. We both had. And although I yearned to know what happiness felt like, I refused to do it at her expense.

  As we got into the car, I cried on the inside. This was one more emotional scar that I would have to deal with.

  “Miamor?” Murder called as he ruffled my hair playfully. I knew that he was trying to switch the mood back to what it used to be-playful, brotherly and pure-but I moved my head away from him and didn’t respond as I stared out of the window the entire ride home. I already told myself that any unnecessary interaction between us would have to stop. I had never been naïve. I knew that things would never go back to the way they used to be.

  Chapter Five

  (Miamor)

  After my birthday, I avoided Murder at all costs. It wasn’t “fuck you” between me and him. I could never hate him, It was more like, out of sight out of mind. As long as I wasn’t in his presence, I would never have to deal with what we had done. So, when he was home, I made sure that I was gone, and it seemed like he was avoiding me too. While I used to see him every day, now I was lucky to see him once a week.

  Anisa noticed the change in his presence, but she wasn’t tripping. He was bringing in more money than a little bit, taking any and all business calls that came through for him, and as long as the paper trail didn’t stop, Anisa did not give a damn if he laid next to her at night or not.

  Despite our strained relationship, business did not stop, and he still
had me count up his paper. He would drop it off on the inside of my door at night while I was asleep. In the morning, I would count it, write the total on a slip of paper and put it all in his safe. It was ridiculous how we were acting, but it was our reality at the time.

  Lying in bed, I had not been able to sleep since my birthday

  I felt so guilty over what had almost occurred between me and Murder. As I tossed and turned, I knew sleep would not come easy. I threw the covers off of my body and got out of the bed. My head was pounding, so I didn’t bother to turn on the lights. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.

  On my way back to my room, I saw a silhouette sitting in the darkness on the couch. “Anisa?” I called out. I flipped on a light switch and saw her sitting there, anger written all over her face. “Why are you sitting in the dark? It’s 3 o’clock in the morning.”

  “I’m waiting for Murder to get home,” she replied coldly. “That mu’fucka cleared out his safe, and I want to know why. He’s barely been here for the past three weeks, and now he moved his money. Ever since I’ve known him, I’ve always had access to his paper. He must have met some bitch who got him open, and I’m trying to find out what’s up.”

  I was in shock. It wasn’t even like Anisa to be talking like this. “So you think he’s cheating? Anisa, his ass is not cheating on you,” I defended him.

  “I don’t give a fuck about that nigga cheating. He can fuck the entire borough for all I care, but he’s not about to be bankrolling the lifestyle of these busted ass hoes out here. I get the dough. Me, and only me. So when his ass comes through the door, he gon’ have to explain to me why I opened up his shit today and the mu’fucka was on E,” she said adamantly.

  Anisa was livid, and before I could respond, Murder entered the condo.

  “Where you been?” Anisa asked him. She got straight to the point, and from the look on Murder’s face, I could tell she had caught him off guard.

  “Fuck you mean, where I been?” he shot back. “You know what’s up.”

  “Yeah, I do know what’s up, and how you been acting lately ain’t it. I went into your safe today, and guess what I found?” she asked. Anisa was on a roll because she didn’t even give him a chance to answer. Her hands were on her hip and her neck was rolling while her mouth spouted words out like they were on fire. “Nothing, that’s what I found. It was empty. Are you fucking with another bitch?”

  “Anisa, you’re wildin', ma. I don’t got time for this shit,” he dismissed casually. “I’ve got business I need to finish taking care of tonight.”

  “You always got business lately! You never used to hit the streets like this before, and when you were out, the safe was full, not empty! So, you cashing out the next chick now?” she asked.

  I could see Murder getting upset, but he was trying to keep his composure. But like every woman does so well, Anisa knew how to push her man’s buttons. “Look. I’m not fucking with another bitch, and you know better than to question how I move. I tried to wife you, Anisa. You said you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to take the risk, talking all that shit about me not being dependable and about you needing a nigga to change before you could commit. Now you in here making a scene in front of lil’ mama? What you want me to tell you, Anisa? You know how I get down. Ain’t shit changed. It’s never been about another bitch. It’s about business!” Murder reached into the duffel bag he was carrying and pulled out a thick wad of rubber banded money. “And since it’s all about the money, here!” He tossed that shit in Anisa’s face, then looked at her in disgust before walking out the door. “I’m out!” The door hit the hinges so hard that it shook the walls.

  Anisa threw her hands in the air and screamed in frustration. “Fuck that! I know his ass is up to something!” She grabbed her keys off of the table and looked at me. “Put on your shoes and ride with me for a minute.”

  “What? Anisa, I’m not even dressed! Where are we going?” I asked, astonished at how far she was taking this.

  “We’re about to follow his ass,” she declared.

  I wanted to tell her no, because I knew that Murder was faithful to Anisa. He was never home because of me, but of course I couldn’t tell her that. Anisa was tripping over money, making herself look like a real gold digger, and that wasn’t even her personality. Murder always took care of home. Whatever reason he had for clearing the safe, I knew it was a good one.

  “Come on, Miamor!”

  I slipped a hoody on over my camisole and slipped into some skinny jeans. I stepped into my flip flops and was out the door. I had never seen my sister and Murder even disagree, so this full-fledged argument was so out of character for them both. I felt like I was the cause of it. Everything was fine before I made the stupid mistake of kissing Murder.

  We slid into Anisa’s Chrysler, and just as Murder pulled out of the parking lot, we tailed him, making sure we stayed at least a half block behind him at all times.

  “Anisa, are you sure you want to do this?” I asked when I noticed us getting onto the bridge headed out of New York and into Jersey. The look she shot me told me to shut the fuck up and ride, so that’s what I did, even though in my gut I knew that something about the entire situation did not feel right.

  “You don’t know Murder like you think you do, Miamor,” Anisa said. “The nigga ain’t the saint that he be trying to make himself out to be. You wanna know why you can’t answer the phone in the house? The type of business he’s into? The nigga is grimy, Miamor.”

  “He’s a hustler, Anisa. He’s never done you dirty. How can you say that?” I asked.

  “Baby sister, open your eyes. He ain’t a hustler. He’s the one the hustlers call when they got a problem or when they need to make a problem disappear. He’s a killer, Miamor. He would murk yo ass if the money was good. Why the fuck you think his name is Murder?” Anisa stated harshly as she floored the gas pedal, trying to keep up with Murder.

  A killer? I thought incredulously. I’m around him all the time. How could I have not known? Why didn’t he just tell me? I’m a big girl. I could’ve handled it.

  I was lost in my thoughts and couldn’t picture the attentive man I had come to know killing anybody, but then the look of rage that I had witnessed in his eyes the night of my party flashed through my mind. “I will murder a nigga over you!” he had said. I could hear his words as if he was in my ear whispering them at that very moment. Syllable by syllable, the phrase replayed in my mind. At the time I thought he was being overprotective, but now I knew that he had meant every word he had spoken. It was something flattering about the fact that he would take a risk like that over me. Instead of feeling fear, I smiled, but quickly wiped it off my face so Anisa wouldn’t take notice.

  I felt the car jerk as she hit her breaks suddenly, and cut off her headlights. “There that nigga go right there. What the fuck is he doing way out here? He gone make me beat a bitch ass!” Anisa threatened. She was so blind with rage that she was not making sense.

  As I looked around, I frowned. We were pulling onto a dead end street. There was nothing around us but old, abandoned buildings. “Anisa, I think you’re taking this too far,” I finally spoke up.

  “I’m not trying to hear all that. All I know is if he’s meeting a bitch here, I’m gon’ fuck some shit up,” she said.

  I sighed and noticed lights approaching from behind

  “Get down. Here comes somebody,” she said.

  We inched down in our seats until the car had passed us, and noticed that it was stopping directly next to Murder’s vehicle. The brake lights came on, and somebody stepped out of the car. It was hard to see because all of the street lights were busted out in this part of town.

  “I can’t see shit,” Anisa whispered. “Can you see who just got out of the car?”

  “I can only see Murder,” I replied.

  “Fuck this!” Anisa said. She got out of the car and shouted, “Murder, what the fuck is going on?”

  “Nigga, you tryin
g to set me up?” I heard a man’s voice yell out angrily.

  I scrambled to turn on the headlights because I still couldn’t see what was going on. Finally, I turned the lights on, illuminating the dead end.

  Murder reached for his pistol, but before he could pull it from his waistline, the guy Murder had been meeting withdrew first, pointing a chrome.45 in Murder’s face.

  “No!” I heard Anisa scream as she ran toward the scene.

  “Anisa!” I yelled after her as I got out of the car.

  Murder rushed the dude who had to be twice his size, and his sneak attack caused the guy’s gun to slide across the concrete.

  “Murder!” Anisa cried out as she watched the two men tussle on the ground

  Murder finally pulled his gun, but the dude wasn’t giving up easily. He grabbed Murder’s wrists and used his weight to his advantage as they struggled for power, both knowing that whoever ended up with the steel in their hands at the end was the only one leaving the scene alive.

  Anisa ran straight into the confrontation, grabbing the guy by the shirt. He flung her to the ground and muscled the gun away from Murder.

  I ran as fast as I could toward them. My flip flops came off halfway there and the gravel dug into the bottom of my feet as I sprinted toward my sister. He had the gun pointed their way, but never saw me coming. I picked up a brick and smashed it against the side of his face with all my might. It was like an ant going against a giant, because although it dazed him, it didn’t stop him from firing the gun. He slapped the shit out of me, sending me flying to the ground. I landed on my stomach, something hard digging into my side as I heard the gun shots ring out.

  Boom! Boom!

  “No!” I screamed. I felt Murder’s gun directly underneath me and I grabbed it without thinking, and still lying on the ground, I scrambled backwards and fired.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!