Tale of the Murda Mamas by Ashley & JaQuavis

Author:Ashley & JaQuavis
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781601622563
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2009-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

(The Cartel)

All with tears in their eyes, Mecca, Carter and Zyir walked down the dirt path that led to their awaiting helicopter. They had just climbed down the mountain, none of them saying anything to each other on their way down. Breeze’s limp, lifeless body was in Zyir’s arms as he carried her with strength, determined to hold her upright and comfortable, even though it was in vain.

The town’s patrons followed as they saw Zyir carrying the dead body. It looked as if a parade was going on, with Carter, Zyir, and Mecca leading the pack.

Mecca held his gun out in the open as he walked in broad daylight, with onlookers looking at them in disbelief. With tears flowing, he promised himself that anyone he saw that resembled a Haitian would die in honor of his hatred for Ma’tee. Mecca was at a point where he didn’t give a fuck about human life anymore. He was already ruthless, but he had crossed the line, graduating to psychotic. He just wanted somebody to pay for all the grief that Ma’tee and his Haitian mob had caused his family. It seemed as if every Haitian resembled Ma’tee, and Mecca wanted vengeance.

He saw a spectator with a head full of dreads on the side of the road, along with the crowd. Mecca was going all out in tribute to Breeze.

He glanced at her body, and the sight of the red belt marks around her neck made him sick to his stomach. That sight was the most hurtful thing he had ever seen. He knew that Breeze loved herself too much to kill herself. For her to commit suicide, life had to be unbearable. This thought infuriated Mecca and pushed him to his boiling point. He looked back at the dread head and let him have it. Mecca pointed and fired, catching him in the chest. Although the man had no association with Ma’tee and posed no harm, Mecca didn’t care. He was borderline insane at that point. As the thunderous sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, people began to scream in horror and run for cover as Mecca looked for any other Haitian that even resembled Ma’tee.

The gunshots didn’t bother Carter or Zyir. Usually they would try to tame Mecca, but this time they let his rage flow uninhibited. Neither of them even flinched as Mecca let off round after round, while never stopping his slow pace as they walked. They knew that Mecca was creating therapy for himself in some sort of sick way. Who were they to tell him how to grieve? They were both heartbroken, and the only thing on their minds was getting Breeze back to the States for a proper burial.

Zyir cried silently and kissed Breeze on the forehead while she was in his arms. “I love you,” he repeatedly whispered to her as he continued down the trail.

Mecca continued to shoot calmly, with no expression on his face. People were yelling in terror and scattered like roaches as Mecca continued his therapy session.

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