The Cartel 2: Tale of the Murda Mamas

THE CARTEL 2

ASHLEY & JAQUAVIS

Urban Books, LLC
1199 Straight Path
West Babylon, NY 11704

The Cartel 2 copyright © 2009 Ashley & JaQuavis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

ISBN- 13: 978-1-59983-138-1
ISBN- 10: 1-59983-138-4

First Printing November 2009
Printed in the United States of America

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This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living, or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

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M
iamor’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!”