Array Ashley - Tale of the Murda Mamas

“To me!” I agreed as we raised our flutes.

One bottle turned into three as we laughed and conversed with one another. We were both toasted by the time we decided to leave. In my mind, I went over all of the times I had been around Murder. We had formed a bond with one another and it started out innocent, but as I sat across from him, I felt my heart beating furiously inside my chest. The feelings and thoughts I was having were far from right. They were not the feelings that one has for her big brother, but ones that a bitch had for a nigga she was trying to make her man. I was slowly admitting to myself that I was feeling him in a deeper way, and that fact was tearing me up on the inside.

He held out his hand and I followed him out of the loft. My heels echoed off of the concrete floor, and when I got outside, my mouth dropped open at the sight of a silver SL 550 Benz sitting there with a red bow wrapped around it. I turned around and looked at Murder. “This is my car?” I asked.

He smiled charmingly, and I already knew the answer.

“Oh my fucking God!” I yelled as I ran around to the driver’s side. The keys were already in the ignition, and I admired the custom leather seats and the wood grain dash. He stood outside, leaning on the back door as I explored every aspect of the car. I jumped out and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you… thank you… thank you!” I screamed excitedly. “This is too much!”

Murder grabbed my hands and intertwined his fingers with mine. Feelings of guilt instantly came back, because we were both letting the liquor cloud our judgment. He kissed my forehead, something that he had done many times before, but my body had never reacted like this. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I felt like I had to throw up, while tiny darts of electricity awakened my southern lips. “Murder!” I whispered as I wrapped my hands around his neck.

“What up?” he asked in a low, raspy slur.

I stood on my tip toes and kissed his lips. I couldn’t help it. The voice in the back of my head that was telling me to stop was overpowered by my growing attraction to him. Murder was my brother… literally. He was Anisa’s man. Even the thought of he and I was wrong, but everything about his touch felt right, like his fingers were made exclusively for me. I was so lost in his embrace. He lifted me, his hands supporting my bottom as I wrapped my virgin legs around his back. I had an itch that I desperately needed scratched. I could smell the alcohol in the air, and I moaned as my head fell back in ecstasy as his tongue molested my neck.

Anisa’s face popped into my mind, and almost simultaneously, Murder pulled away from me as if she had invaded his thoughts too. “Wait! Miamor, we can’t,” he said out of breath. “We can’t do this, ma.”

I could hear the disappointment in his voice. If we had met in another time or another place, then we would have been so right for each other, but we had not. He belonged to Anisa, and I loved her more than I loved myself. How could I do this to her? I thought as I instantly sobered up, the sting of betrayal causing my eyes to burn with tears as I wiped my lips in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” I said with a hint of sadness in my voice. “It should have never gone this far.”

“I know,” he agreed as he rubbed the top of his head. We both knew that we had just fucked up. “I know,” he repeated.

“How do I tell my sister something like this? She will never forgive me,” I whispered. “I’m so stupid.”

Murder pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry about it, Mia.”

I could not stop the tears from coming down my face. “She’s going to hate me!” I cried hysterically.

“Shh! Miamor, Shh! Don’t cry, ma. Your sister loves you. I heard about you every day before I ever laid eyes on you. You are all she talks about. She made me love you, Miamor, before I even knew who you were. We both made a big mistake. That’s it. She doesn’t have to know. I would never break her heart like that. We cannot let this happen again though. It’s not meant to be.”

It was the first time I had let anyone penetrate my heart, besides Anisa, and I did not like the sacrifice it took to love another person. Love costs too much. I learned on that day that it was sacrificial. In order to obtain it, I would have had to hurt someone else-more specifically Anisa-and that was something that I refused to do. My sister had endured enough pain in her lifetime. We both had. And although I yearned to know what happiness felt like, I refused to do it at her expense.

As we got into the car, I cried on the inside. This was one more emotional scar that I would have to deal with.

“Miamor?” Murder called as he ruffled my hair playfully. I knew that he was trying to switch the mood back to what it used to be-playful, brotherly and pure-but I moved my head away from him and didn’t respond as I stared out of the window the entire ride home. I already told myself that any unnecessary interaction between us would have to stop. I had never been naïve. I knew that things would never go back to the way they used to be.

After my birthday, I avoided Murder at all costs. It wasn’t “fuck you” between me and him. I could never hate him, It was more like, out of sight out of mind. As long as I wasn’t in his presence, I would never have to deal with what we had done. So, when he was home, I made sure that I was gone, and it seemed like he was avoiding me too. While I used to see him every day, now I was lucky to see him once a week.

Anisa noticed the change in his presence, but she wasn’t tripping. He was bringing in more money than a little bit, taking any and all business calls that came through for him, and as long as the paper trail didn’t stop, Anisa did not give a damn if he laid next to her at night or not.

Despite our strained relationship, business did not stop, and he still had me count up his paper. He would drop it off on the inside of my door at night while I was asleep. In the morning, I would count it, write the total on a slip of paper and put it all in his safe. It was ridiculous how we were acting, but it was our reality at the time.

Lying in bed, I had not been able to sleep since my birthday

I felt so guilty over what had almost occurred between me and Murder. As I tossed and turned, I knew sleep would not come easy. I threw the covers off of my body and got out of the bed. My head was pounding, so I didn’t bother to turn on the lights. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.

On my way back to my room, I saw a silhouette sitting in the darkness on the couch. “Anisa?” I called out. I flipped on a light switch and saw her sitting there, anger written all over her face. “Why are you sitting in the dark? It’s 3 o’clock in the morning.”

“I’m waiting for Murder to get home,” she replied coldly. “That mu’fucka cleared out his safe, and I want to know why. He’s barely been here for the past three weeks, and now he moved his money. Ever since I’ve known him, I’ve always had access to his paper. He must have met some bitch who got him open, and I’m trying to find out what’s up.”

I was in shock. It wasn’t even like Anisa to be talking like this. “So you think he’s cheating? Anisa, his ass is not cheating on you,” I defended him.

“I don’t give a fuck about that nigga cheating. He can fuck the entire borough for all I care, but he’s not about to be bankrolling the lifestyle of these busted ass hoes out here. I get the dough. Me, and only me. So when his ass comes through the door, he gon’ have to explain to me why I opened up his shit today and the mu’fucka was on E,” she said adamantly.