The Cartel 2: Tale of the Murda Mamas

by Ashley; JaQuavis

  “You said it was a Russian guy on the phone, right?” Beatrice asked as she squinted her eyes, letting us know she was thinking hard about the task at hand.

  “Yeah,” I responded.

  “I remember one time at the club, two Russian men burst in and put a gun to Joell’s head in front of the whole club. Remember that, Robyn?” Beatrice asked.

  “Yeah, I remember that shit. They were yelling about him owing them some money. You know Joell got that gambling bug bad,” Robyn stated.

  “That’s the reason why they are at his ass,” I added, as things started to make more sense. “I know we said we can’t hit anybody that we know, but think about it. This is a lot of money. It is enough to move out of this grimy city. Miami looked real good this past weekend, ladies. Think about living near an ocean and not having to worry about karma catching up with us. If we stay in New York, we will always have to look over our shoulders. This is our way out,” I said as I grabbed the duffel bag from Anisa’s shoulder and dumped the stacks of money on the coffee table. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the money, and it provided a sort of adrenaline rush for everyone. We were all paper chasers, and at that moment, I knew they would be down to kill Joell. The looks in their eyes told it all.

  Anisa and I looked at each other and smiled, knowing that they were game. If they weren’t, then Anisa and I would have done it by our damn selves, I’m sure of that.

  It seemed as if all the tension left the room and everyone had small smirks on their faces. We were about to put a plan in motion.

  * * *

  Three weeks passed, and we were in the perfect position to take care of Joell. Everything was going as planned. Come to find out, Joell was sweet on Beatrice, but she never gave him any play. I told her to approach him as if she had a change of heart, so we could get close to him. I told her she would have to give up the pussy, and it was all in the game.

  Beatrice was smart, and she always lived by money over everything, so she wasn’t hard to convince. Her deep chocolate skin, slim waist and extraordinarily large ass was eye candy to any man, so when she presented that to a sex fiend like Joell, he took the bait with no problem.

  Joell was a hard man to hit, I must admit. He knew there was a contract on his head, so he moved accordingly. He never went anywhere without his goons. Even when he met

  Beatrice at a hotel, he had two goons standing outside waiting for him. This hit was far more difficult than any of us imagined, but we were not called the best for nothing.

  Beatrice spent every day with him for weeks, softening him up for the inevitable. She eventually convinced him to take her to Connecticut for a weekend at the world famous Clearwater Hotel and Spa, without his goons. I don’t know how she did it, but she got him to do it. I guess she was putting it on him in the bedroom to get him to step out of his square. However, she did it, I didn’t care. The only thing I knew was that we were about to be one-hundred-thousand-dollars richer.

  I pulled into the luxurious spa parking lot alone. I arrived there six hours before Beatrice and Joell were scheduled to get there. I wanted to get there early and scope the scene, preparing myself for the hit. I got out and checked myself into the hotel. I carried my Gucci luggage to the front entrance and walked with a model’s precision across the immaculate marble floor that made up the hotel’s lobby. I wore a blonde wig and big shades, trying to avoid the chances of me being identified on camera. I checked in under an alias with the help of my fake ID and credit card. I told the other girls to stay home and let me do this one on my own. I didn’t want all of them to come to the spa. It would only draw more attention to us. Too many black mu’fuckas in Connecticut was sure to raise somebody’s red flag. Only Beatrice and I were going to complete this job, and would return to them once it was over.

  Anisa and I argued over who would be the one to actually go with B to do the hit. She didn’t want me to go without her, but we all agreed that I was the most ruthless of the crew, and she had to fall back. I assured her that Beatrice and I could handle it. B was going to ride up there with Joell, and I would kill him later that night while he was naked on a masseuse table.

  Make it quick. In five minutes, come in. The door will be unlocked.

  I looked at Beatrice’s text on my cell phone and took a deep breath as I prepared myself mentally, focusing on the goal at the end of it all … money. Beatrice and I had gone over this plan the previous night at least fifty times, and we both knew the drill. First, she was going to get him drunk and relaxed. Then, she was going to offer an erotic massage on a masseuse table, naked of course, so he wouldn’t have access to his gun that he kept on him at all times. I would sneak in and hit him with two hollow points to the back of the head. “In and out, like a robbery,” as we would say. He would never see it coming; rock his ass to sleep … Cha-ching!

  I looked at the clock, and it was a couple of strokes past 10 pm. My heart no longer beat rapidly before I killed someone. Repetition had taken away all of my insecurities when it came to my murder game. I looked at murder as if it was a job, not a sin. I went about killing just as a doctor would go about performing surgery, with expertise and precision. I was meticulous about every detail and never allowed my nerves to rattle me.

  I carefully placed the bullets in the clip of my small .25 caliber pistol. I wore gloves to avoid the possibility of leaving any prints on the bullets. I had music playing in the background to get me in my mood, and bobbed my head to the rhythm while loading the gun. After I was locked and loaded, I removed my gloves and put them, along with the gun inside my purse. I had on a black business suit, the blond wig, and my stilettos on. My life wasn’t a damn movie. You couldn’t wear all black—mask and gloves—when you went to murk someone. You have to blend in, so people wouldn’t look at you twice when you’re leaving the scene. So I looked into the mirror and gave myself a once over before I exited the room. I had already put my bags in the car, and Beatrice and I were planning to make a quick getaway after the dirt was done.

  I slowly walked out of the room and closed the door on my way to the top floor where Beatrice and Joell were. I then removed my gloves from my purse and stuffed them into my pocket as I headed toward the elevator. While on the elevator, I avoided facing the camera, turning my back to it as I pulled out my phone. First, I texted Beatrice and confirmed that I was on my way up, and then I dialed Anisa’s number. I surprisingly had service on the elevator.

  “Hello,” Anisa said as she picked up the phone.

  “Okay, I’m about to take care of it now. I love you,” I said to her just as I always did before we took care of business.

  “I love you too,” she said back to me.

  With that, the bell rang, signaling that I had reached my floor. I hung up the phone and walked out of the elevator. I reached the room, and just as promised, the door was slightly open and ready for me to sneak in. When I stepped in, I heard smooth jazz playing and the sounds of running water as I crossed the threshold of the door. The aroma of lavender scented candles danced in the air as the flickering candle lights illuminated the spacious presidential suite. My girl had set it up so nice for me. Beatrice was always on point like that. The lights were low, just like I anticipated. He would never see it coming. The room was so dark that I could barely see anything. The steam from the hot tub had it all foggy inside. I stepped a couple of feet in and I pulled out my gun, expecting to see Beatrice rubbing down Joell, but before I could even react, I felt a strong arm grab me from behind, and then I felt the cold steel of a gun pressed to my head.

  The lights came on, and what I saw would be sketched in my mind forever. Beatrice was tied to the chair with blood running down her neck. She had been cut from ear to ear, and her eyes were staring aimlessly. She was dead. I then saw Joell smiling as he held a bloody knife, alongside three of his goons. The goon that had me at gunpoint quickly relieved me of my weapon and gripped me tightly from behind, placing me in a tight chokehold.

  “Well, well, well! We have bee
n waiting on you,” Joell said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out Beatrice’s cell phone and looked at it. He obviously saw the texts that I had sent her the whole time.

  I had walked straight into a trap. I was speechless. The sight of Beatrice’s bloody body was devastating. I felt my knees getting weak, and my heart seemed as if it was about to beat out of my chest.

  The goon walked me over to the bed and forcefully pushed me down on it. “Beatrice!” I yelled as I crawled to her and hugged her tightly. Her lips were purple and her body was ice-cold. She was long gone, and somewhere in the plan, we had failed, and this was the end result. I couldn’t believe she was dead.

  They watched me and laughed as I cried my eyes out in agony. Joell had seen enough, and pulled me off of her. He grabbed me by my neck and stood me up against the wall. I was on my tip toes as I felt his strong hand wrap around my neck.

  “You think you can touch me?” Joell asked rhetorically. “You can’t kill me, bitch! You came barking up the wrong tree. I sniffed y’all out from day one. Since the day Beatrice approached me, I have been watching all of you. This game isn’t for rookies, and I am far from a rookie, Sunshine!” he said with passion as he squeezed my neck so hard I was unable to breathe. I stared into his bloodshot red eyes with no fear, even though inside I was terrified. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had achieved such a feat.

  “Oh, okay. I see you are a tough one, huh?” Joell said as he unleashed his grip on me, letting me fall to the floor, panting for air. I held my neck as I tried to catch my breath, and I felt someone pick me up and toss me on the bed.

  “I’ma break you down. I’m going to show you not to fuck with me,” Joell said with a sinister look in his eyes.

  “Kill me and get it over with,” I said as I breathed heavily and sat up on the bed.

  “I’m not going to kill you. But you are going to wish you were dead when I am done with you.

  Joell’s goons grabbed me and pinned me down while ripping my clothes off, leaving me completely nude. I tried to stop them, but they were much more powerful than I was, and I couldn’t fight them off. I saw one goon pull down his pants, exposing his rock hard tool. I saw about twelve inches of nightmare. He straddled me while the other men held me down, and forcefully penetrated me, causing me to arch my back in complete anguish. No man had ever been inside of me, and my virginity was now being stripped from me in the worst way. I could feel my pussy being ripped open. It was so painful and so degrading, causing me to let out screams that were muffled by a hand. He went in and out of me violently. I could feel myself splitting, and the pain shot through my entire body. He was much too large for my rather small opening. I cried and yelled, but it was to no avail, as no one could hear me through the soundproofed rooms, and Joell and his crew had no intentions of stopping.

  Once he was finished, he squirted semen all over my upper torso and face. Just when I thought the chaos was over, he switched positions with another goon, and then he began to have his way with me. Joell just sat and watched in pleasure as he got his sweet revenge. Tears continued to run down my face, but the yelling stopped as I quit fighting back.

  The rape lasted for an entire hour, as his four goons took turns on me, leaving me bloody and sore. It reminded me of the torture that my stepfather used to put Anisa through, and I wished that my big sister was there to save me from this pain. They violated both holes, and left me in agonizing pain, curled up on the bed.

  Once they were finished, Joell put a gun to my head and whispered sternly, “Go tell whoever sent you that they shouldn’t have sent a woman to do a man’s job. If I ever see you or any of them other bitches, you’re going to end up like this bitch,” he said as he threw his head in the direction of Beatrice dead body. With that, he left me in the room alone and traumatized.

  I weakly looked over at Beatrice and whispered, “Sorry B! I am so sorry!” as the tears flowed.

  Things were never the same after Beatrice died. We all were shaken. It felt like everything was falling down around us. We didn’t feel safe in the Yitty anymore, so we all packed our shit and relocated to Miami. We all had aspirations of leaving the foul game alone. With Beatrice gone, we had a piece of us missing. Getting out of New York was mandatory. We had to worry about Joell retaliating even more, and also we had to worry about the Russians. We took their money without completing the job, so we knew that we had created another enemy; an enemy that we couldn’t stand up against. That botched hit taught us that we were not invincible, and at any time we could be gone. I hate that it took me being raped and Beatrice’s death to teach us that hard lesson, but nevertheless, it was taken in heed. We moved with precision and intelligence from that day forward. We buried our girl in the Bronx, her hometown, and never looked back.

  When we moved down to Miami, we tried our best to stay straight, but the allure of the game called for us, and when the money was low, we went back into business. We hooked up with a Haitian named Ma’tee, a powerful drug trafficker in Miami, and the rest is history. We never had any problems, except for the day we took on our biggest hit … The Cartel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  (The Cartel)

  “Have chu heard from Miamor?” Aries asked as she handed Robyn a moving box to carry into their new apartment. They were in L.A., living the life, and after months of functioning out of hotels, they finally decided to move into their first West Coast spot. Their apartment overlooked Santa Monica Beach. They had made sure to get a three bedroom, just in case Miamor decided to join them one day.

  “Nah, I haven’t heard from her since we left. She’s too wrapped up in that mu’fucka, Carter. I can’t believe she chose him over us. That’s been our rule since the very beginning; Fuck a nigga! Get your paper! I guess she forgot about all of that,” Robyn stated with a shoulder shrug as they made their way inside.

  Aries placed the box she held in her hands on the floor and sat down to go through its contents. She frowned when she opened it to find it full of envelopes that were addressed to Miamor. “Me think chu made a mistake and took some of Miamor’s stuff out of storage. This box is full of old letters to she,” she stated.

  “It’s probably just old letters from Murder,” Robyn said. “I probably grabbed them by mistake. She stayed writing that nigga back in the day. You would have thought he was her man instead of Anisa’s.”

  Aries had never met Murder, but she had heard a lot about him. “Miamor used to talk about he all de time,” she recalled.

  Robyn nodded her head as she continued to unpack boxes and rearrange their place. “Uh-huh. Between me and you, I think they had a little thing for each other. It was like after that shit happened to her and Beatrice, she wasn’t really worried about no dudes. I think that rape fucked her head up more than anything. Then, when she met that nigga, Carter, she was on some other shit; talking that love bullshit.”

  “Me don’t trust de’ nigga, Carter. Me think Miamor is in over she head,” Aries stated. “She might need us.”

  Robyn waved her hand in dismissal. “I ain’t worried about Miamor. She made her decision. Nobody forced her to stay back in Miami. She can take care of herself.”

  Aries opened up one of the letters and read the intimate words that Murder had written Miamor. It was obvious to her that Miamor and Murder had been close. In his letter, he expressed his concern for her, and also expressed how he wished he could take care of both Miamor and Anisa. It seemed like he was the only other male attachment Miamor had ever had.

  Aries went into her room and pulled out a piece of paper. Robyn appeared in her doorway and asked, “What are you doing, girl? We still have so much stuff to unpack out of the car,” She came in and flopped down on Aries’ bed.

  “Don’t chu think it’s strange that she hasn’t even called us? We haven’t gone one day without talking since de’ day we met. Now all of a sudden, Mia just falls off the map. Me gut tells me something is wrong,” Aries said.

  “You’re right,�
� Robyn stated.

  “Me think me’s going to write Murder and let he know what’s up with she,” Aries said.

  “What is he going to do? He’s locked up,” Robyn replied.

  Aries showed Robyn the letter she had just read from Murder. “According to this, he will be out soon. Maybe he can talk some sense into she.”

  “A’ight, girl, go for what you know,” Robyn stated. She hugged Aries and left her to write her letter.

  * * *

  Murder walked on the platform of his tier, his khaki jail pants hanging slightly off of his behind as he strolled toward his cell. He received much love from the other inmates, but he didn’t deal with many. His business was still popping in prison. He survived in the joint by murking niggas who stepped out of line. He was paid with cigarettes, drugs, shoes, clothes, books, and basically whatever else an inmate had to offer. It was far less than what he had killed for while he was on the outside, but behind the walls was a completely different world. Something as simple as a pack of cigarettes could be as worthy as gold in prison. He entered his cell just as the bars began to close.

  A CO walked by. “Brown, you’ve got some mail,” the fat white guard said as he stuck a single envelope through the bars of his cell.

  A look of surprise crossed Murder’s face. He only received mail from one person, but he hadn’t heard from her in years. Miamor was the only person who had ever contacted him while he was locked up. He opened the letter and read:

  Hey Murder:

  Chu’ don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Miamor’s. Me know chu know all about the Murder Mamas and what we are about. Anisa used to tell us stories about chu, so me know what chu about and how chu get down.