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Authors: Ashley & JaQuavis

The Cartel (31 page)

BOOK: The Cartel
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Breeze fell to her knees and sobbed desperately at the feet of Ma’tee. “Please don’t do this,” she begged. “I just want to go home.”

“This is home.”

Breeze reverted to her childhood ways as anger began to simmer inside of her heart. She began to demolish the room. “This is not my home!” she screamed forcefully as she threw lamps and overturned tables and chairs. “This is not my home! Let me go!”

She broke any and everything in her path as Ma’tee watched her without giving her a reaction. Once she ran out of energy and things to break, she collapsed on the floor and bawled in defeat.

“Yuh can destroy as much as yuh want and scream all day and night. It won’t change the fact that yuh here. Nothing can change that. Yuh belong to me.”

Ma’tee walked over and removed the tray of food that he’d brought her. He walked past her and made his exit. Before he left, he said, “Yuh will see food when yuh show me yuh deserve to eat. The longer yuh deny me, the longer yuh will starve.”

When he closed the door, Breeze heard the clicking of multiple locks, and all of a sudden, the entire room went black. She thought of the ones that she loved. Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes. Then she saw her brothers, Carter and Mecca. Last but not least, Zyir’s face appeared.

Please help me, Zyir. Please don’t stop looking for me,
she thought as she tried to send a message from her heart, hoping that she was as connected to him as she thought she was. Even though their love was new, she hoped that it was strong enough for him to feel her presence. She needed him to believe she was alive. She needed him to get her family to come for her.

After she wrecked her body with exhaustion from crying, Breeze did the only thing that she could do. She prayed.

Chapter Twenty-four

“Who you praying to, bitch? I
am
God.”

—Mecca

“H
mm,” Miamor moaned as she drowsily opened her eyes and became 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 but 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.

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 was awake. She needed to level the playing field and free herself from her constraints before facing him. She tried to see through the darkness that had enveloped the room.
Where the fuck am I?

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 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 lips 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, as her body shivered 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 her to wake up. He was itching to kill her since she was responsible for the murder of both his mother and sister.

As Mecca flipped the light switch, he appeared before Miamor’s eyes. Her vision was blurry, and all she saw was a shadow standing in front of her. “What the fuck? I can’t see,” she whispered, shaking 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’m-a torture you slow, so get comfortable.”

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 circled her as if he was 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. He brought the chain up and swung it with as much force as he could over Miamor’s body, 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 blood on her legs.

Mecca brought the chain down on her again, this time using more force.

“Aghh! 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, so 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.

The chain whipped her again, this time hitting her bare breasts and stomach.

“Aghh!”

“You’re not gon’ beg like your sister, bitch? Huh?” Mecca asked through clenched teeth as he hit Miamor repeatedly. and he found pleasure in bringing so much pain to the person responsible for his sister’s and mother’s death.

“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,” Mecca stated. “I’m-a put your ass in the dirt just like I did your sister.”

Mecca had beaten Miamor for so long that he was out of breath and sweating profusely. 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, which now resembled that of a runaway slave.

“Aghhhhhhh!”

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.

“Our 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 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 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. She spat blood. “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 grabbed the ammonia, pinched 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. She saw the Grim Reaper stepping closer to her.

“I got something for you, bitch. I’m not gon’ kill you. I’m-a let my man handle you.”

Miamor watched as Mecca walked out of the room and the devil stepped closer to her, her heart jumping with every step the devil took. His face came into view, and when it became fully visible, her eyes grew wide in shock.
Fabian!

The shadow in her peripheral vision wasn’t the devil, but a part of her wished that it was. Surely, death would have been better than what Fabian had in store for her. He had a score to settle. 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.

Fabian leaned into her, his hot breath blowing against her burning skin. “It’s too late for prayers, bitch. You’re gonna die tonight,” he stated with no emotion.

Miamor couldn’t believe that her past had come back to haunt her. This scary mu’fucka was the same one begging her for his life just months ago. Now he was standing before her getting ready to take her own.

“I should have cut off your fucking balls when I took your dick, mu’fucka. Do what you got to do, nigga. Fuck you!”

Fabian punched Miamor with so much force that her jaw collapsed on the right side.

Miamor 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 spat 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 wasn’t 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’m-a go out, it ain’t gon’ be on my knees.
“Fuck you!”

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BOOK: The Cartel
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