“Is that bitch still out there?” Fabian asked.
“What the fuck? You running from a chick?” Mecca asked. “What, the bitch trying to stick you with child support or something?” Mecca laughed at the sight of the grown man crying before him.
Fabian shuffled to their bedroom and peeked outside in the hallway. Once he saw the coast was clear, he closed the door. “It’s not just any chick,” Fabian explained. “She’s a Murder Mama.”
“Say what?” Mecca had never heard of the group, so he wasn’t impressed.
Fabian went underneath his bed and pulled out a box. Inside of it were newspaper clippings and one photo of the four girls together. “Man, I’m not in here because I’m crazy. I’m hiding from these bitches called the Murder Mamas. They’re some killers, family.”
“Some bitches?”
Fabian nodded as his eyes continued to roam nervously.
“Yeah, nigga! I’m telling you that bitch was here to finish me off. Look, man”-Fabian unzipped his pants and pulled them down, revealing his chopped off genitals.
Mecca turned his head and frowned. “Whoa, fam! Pull up your fucking pants, yo. You bullshitting on that faggoty shit, mu’fucka.”
“I ain’t on no homo shit, fam. Just look at my dick, nigga. These bitches did this to me,” Fabian stated. “That bitch that was here with your visitor chopped me up.”
Mecca’s looked at Fabian in shock. “With my visitor?”
“Yeah, man. How did that bitch find me?”
“She did that to you?”
“Yeah, man, her and these two bitches-The Murder Mamas. They’re ruthless. Bitches will kill they own fucking mothers without thinking twice.” Panic-stricken, Fabian began throwing the little clothing he owned in a plastic garbage bag.
“Stop bullshitting, nigga.”
Fabian shoved the pictures in Mecca’s hands. “Look, nigga, that’s a news article on them. They almost got caught up in some bullshit in New York. Needless to say, somebody produced some big money and made the case disappear.”
Mecca’s nostrils flared when he stared at the news photo. He saw four girls-Miamor, his brother’s new chick, two girls he didn’t recognize, and Anisa, the girl he had killed in the hotel room. He knew that Ma’tee had tried to have him hit that night and had sent the girl at him. He put two and two together. He knew that Miamor had to be sent by Ma’tee to get at Carter.
“Who do they work for?” Mecca asked, to confirm his suspicions.
“Nigga, anybody who can afford their services. I heard that this boss nigga from St. Louis paid them to do a job against some hustler he was beefing with. They fucked around and killed that same nigga two months later because somebody put that cake up to have it done. They don’t have no loyalty, man. Anything is game. You see what they did with a nigga love stick, man. I got to get the fuck up out of here.” Fabian peeked out in the hall once more then rushed out of the room.
Mecca’s head was spinning. If it were under any other circumstances, he would have fucked Miamor. The fact that she had the balls to cut a nigga dick off amused him. He had never seen any shit like that in real life, only in the movies.
Carter couldn’t have known that this chick was affiliated with Ma’tee. From what Mecca knew, Miamor had been fucking with Carter for a little while now, so he silently wondered why she hadn’t made her move yet. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He needed to get out and back on the streets so that he could keep a watchful eye over his brother’s new girlfriend, and find out more information, but he knew that if he left anytime soon, then Estes would put the dogs on his heels. Mecca decided that he would fix his problems with his grandfather first, and as soon as it was safe, he would find out more about The Murder Mamas… before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-one
“I am Miami, nigga!”
– Mecca
“Zyir…” Breeze mumbled as she held both of her legs open for him, giving Zyir a clear pathway to her clitoris. The sand on her back and the waves washing up on the shore heightened Breeze’s first sexual encounter. She had never felt the type of pleasure she was experiencing at that moment, staring into the stars and moaning constantly.
It was around midnight that Zyir had convinced Breeze to sneak out and talk with him, and what started off as a conversation ended up becoming a night of passion.
Breeze had masturbated plenty of times, but she was a virgin to a man’s touch. Zyir operated on her love box like a skilled surgeon would on a patient on the sands of the small, secluded beach just five miles away from the Diamond estate. She moaned loudly as she gripped his head tightly and moved her buttocks in a circular motion, gyrating in his face.
Zyir arose from Breeze’s warmth and looked into her green eyes. Never had he seen a woman so pure, so beautiful. “You are very special, ma,” he said in a low tone. “I want to be inside you.” He let his rock-hard pole exit his boxers.
Breeze’s body squirmed as she was soaked with her own juices. She gently grabbed Zyir’s face, and they began to kiss passionately.
As Zyir attempted to enter Breeze’s tight virgin wound, she grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him. “Zyir, you got a condom on?” she asked.
Damn! Zyir thought as his world came crumbling down. He wanted to feel her virgin walls without any latex. That was a dope boy’s dream, and she was ruining it for him. “Come on, ma, I want you so bad right now.” Zyir rubbed his tip against her clitoris, trying to persuade her to finish what they’d already started.
“No, Zyir. No glove, no love. Let’s just run to that 7-Eleven around the way.” Breeze moved his pole and sat up.
Zyir took a deep breath and gave in. “All right. Let’s go. You drive a hard bargain, ma,” Zyir said.
They both broke out into laughter and put their clothes back on.
Zyir pushed his black tinted Benz through the Miami streets like a madman. He was anxious to feel the inside of Breeze Diamond. As they approached the store, he swerved into the parking lot, almost hitting another car. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he threw the car in park and jumped out. His manhood was erect and pulsating, showing in his baggy jeans.
He walked into the store and headed straight to the front counter and grabbed a three-pack of Magnum condoms. “Let me get this and a box of lemon heads,” he said as he tossed them on the counter to the pimple-faced Asian clerk.
That’s when the bell rang, indicating someone was entering the store. Zyir’s eyes immediately shot toward the door, and he saw a beautiful woman walk through. He didn’t want to stare, but the Daisy Duke shorts she was wearing, not to mention her pumps, demanded his undivided attention. His soldier stood even straighter in his jeans as she strutted behind him to get in line.
“Looks like someting’s happy to see me,” she said in a thick accent.
Zyir looked down and saw his rod pitching a tent in his pants. He smiled as he looked back up at the girl, but he got a big surprise-A.22 semi-automatic pistol was pointed to his head.
“Getcha bitch-ass hands up,” Aries said as she gripped the gun. She looked over at the clerk, who looked like he shitted on himself. “And turn your Jackie Chan ass around before ah smoke yuh.”
Instantly the clerk put his hands up and turned around as ordered.
Zyir kicked himself for not having his gun on him. He was so worried about pussy, he didn’t even think to grab his gun out of his glove compartment before getting out of the car. He glanced out of the store’s front glass window and saw a woman stuffing Breeze into the trunk of a Dodge Charger. He immediately yelled, “Damn!” while keeping both of his hands up. He knew that the Haitians had sent for her, and watched the girl walk backwards toward the door, the gun still pointed at him.