Array Ashley - Tale of the Murda Mamas

“Cool,” he said almost as if he was relieved, and he rushed to the phone and picked it up.

I talked to Anisa on the way down to the car, and told her that he had to go use the restroom to distract her. Moments later, Murder came rushing down the stairs and caught up with us. He winked his eye at me to say thanks, and we got in his car and headed to the party.

We arrived at the club, and the line was out the door. It was ridiculous the amount of people who had come out. Undoubtedly, they weren’t all there for me. I didn’t fuck with anybody, and I had no friends besides my sister and Murder, but just the fact that the place was packed in my honor pleased me. We stepped out of the limo with a million eyes fixed on us. We bypassed the line and walked straight in, making our way to V.I.P. I felt like a celebrity, and I was all smiles, and so was Anisa.

Murder had an uncomfortable look on his face as he escorted us in. I could tell he was uncomfortable around all the people. His head was on a swivel, and his arm stayed tucked in his hoody, palming his pistol as we entered. That nigga never took a day off! He was always on his toes, and I had to respect it.

The entire place was decorated in turquoise and white. There were already bottles of Cris, Remy Louis XII Grand Cognac, and bottles of Mo spread out in ice buckets around my spot. The music was already at screaming level, and the party was going at full blast.

“If you need anything, let me know. I’ma watch the niggas handling my money at the door and make sure everything goes smoothly. You have a good time. This is all for you,” Murder whispered in my ear.

I nodded, and we all sat down to get it cracking.

Murder frequently peeked into the main room and checked on us, and then he would head back to the front door. He didn’t mingle at all. Instead, he sat back and watched me and Anisa do our thing.

I was walking through the party, the DJ plugging my name every few minutes making it known that I was the guest of honor. After that, I was shown mad love. Niggas were pinning money to my dress and buying me drinks, regardless of the fact that I had $500 bottles sitting on ice back at the table.

Anisa and I were doing it big, dancing and getting fucked up. I was nineteen and still a virgin, and the slew on fine niggas in the building had my hormones on fire. If I was a different type of chick, I would have had one picked out for the after party, but Anisa had already groomed me. Niggas treated you how you allowed them to, and I was never going to be anybody’s A.M. jump off, so I kept my raging emotions at bay.

After circulating the building a couple times, I was about $3,000 richer from all of the birthday money niggas had given me. They were all trying to put their bids in to see who I was going to choose, but little did they know, I was going home alone. I didn’t fuck with niggas who paid to play, because a bitch like me wasn’t for sale.

I was tipsy, but Anisa was loaded. Niggas was really on her because she had the body of a goddess, and her dress was barely covering her ass. Her dress looked like it was sprayed on, and the bottom of her ass cheeks kept showing as she constantly had to pull down her dress to cover herself. It was all fun and games, until Anisa broke her own rule and became one of the drunken bitches in the club who ended up getting carried out. I noticed her stumble a little.

“Nis, are you okay?” I yelled, trying to be heard over the music.

She shook her head. “I need some air,” she admitted.

I grabbed her hand and led her to the front entrance where Murder was. He saw me trying to keep Anisa balanced and rushed over to help me.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She had too much to drink,” I explained, while trying to keep her steady. “Maybe we should just go. It’s getting late anyway.”

Anisa shook her head. “No, Miamor, it’s your party. I just need to sleep this off. You stay and have a good time. I can take the limo back home. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, Anisa? I don’t mind coming with you,” I replied.

“No, stay. The night isn’t over yet,” she said.

Murder helped her into the limo and tipped the driver to take her home and make sure she got into the condo safely, then turned his attention back to me. “You good?” he asked.

“I know how to handle my liquor,” I said with a smile. “I learned from the best.” I was referring to him, because he and I had gotten fucked up together plenty of times since I’d been home.

“Go have a good time. I’ll be in shortly. We’re closing the doors in a half an hour,” he said.

I went back into the club and made my way to my table, but was detoured when I felt someone grab my hand. I turned around to the sexiest nigga I had ever seen in my life. No bullshit. His gray eyes penetrated mine and I smiled. “You’re grabbing me like you know me or something,” I said with an attitude as I snatched away flirtatiously.

He held my hand up, and I did a sexy half spin so he could admire what I had on.

Drake’s latest hit came on, and we began to dance. The dude’s hands felt good on my body, and I was beyond intoxicated. Any other day I probably would have smacked the shit out of him, but when my song came on, the liquor told me to make an exception. I was rocking my hips and grinding on him sexily, having a good time, until I felt somebody snatch me up. I looked up to see Murder glaring at the nigga.

“Is there a problem, my nigga?” the dude asked.

“I don’t know. Is there?” Murder asked. The look of rage behind Murder’s eyes surprised me, and told a story all their own.

The dude stepped back with his hands raised in surrender. “No disrespect, fam. I ain’t know she was with you,” he muttered. If he did have a chance with me, after seeing him bitch up so easily, he for damn sure didn’t have one after that.

Murder snatched my ass all the way across the dance floor and into the back of the loft until we were in a quiet room.

“What the fuck? Murder, why are you tripping?” I asked.

“Don’t make me fuck one of these niggas up, Miamor!” he said in an overprotective tone. “Nigga got his hands all over you!” He was yelling, and I had never ever seen him lose his temper. I was speechless. For the first time, I saw a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. I guess I had seen it before. It had been there all along, but this was the first time that I had acknowledged it. There was something in the air between us.

“We were dancing, that’s it,” I whispered. “It wasn’t a big deal.” We had spent so much time together before, yet this was the first time it felt awkward. My heart was racing and my palms were sweaty. I was nervous around him, not because I was afraid of him, but because I was afraid of the way he had me feeling. I didn’t want him to be mad at me or to be disappointed in me. I cared a lot about what Murder thought of me. I left the room and chilled at my table, while Murder hugged the bar until the party was over.

After the entire place cleared out, Murder approached me with the last bottle of champagne in his hands. It had a red ribbon tied around it. “You have a good time?” he asked.

I nodded. “I did. You’re too good to me,” I said aloud. “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. It was innocent. You acted like I was fucking dude or something.”

“I know, Miamor. I over reacted. I don’t like the idea of a nigga disrespecting you. I will murder a nigga over you,” Murder said sincerely as he looked me in my eyes. “Pop one last bottle with me?” he asked.

I nodded and gave him a half smile as he filled two champagne flutes. He popped the cork, causing champagne to spill over the top. “Happy birthday, Miamor!” he said. “To you!”