The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [104]
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
“Hmm,” 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