Read Online The Demise by Ashley & JaQuavis - Free Book Online Page A

Miamor’s pain was raw. She didn’t care about anything, not even herself—and the razor scars on her thighs were proof of that. Blood dripped out of the open wounds, and Murder sauntered to her side. He looked at her as she still gripped the razor in her hand. She was holding it so tightly that it was cutting her fingertips. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked her, exasperated. He was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do. This woman before him was a shell of the woman he once knew. She was weak. Her normal fire had been snuffed out the moment she found out her son’s fate. He snatched her wrist and applied pressure to it, causing her to drop the razor. “Why are you doing this to yourself? The fuck is this gon’ solve?” he asked.
    Her eyes were spaced out as she stared past him. She was in a daze as she responded. “It’s the only way to let the pain out.” She tilted her head back as she closed her eyes. “Just let it all bleed out,” she whispered.
    Without warning, Murder slapped fire from her, snapping her out of her funk and filling her with rage. “You want to feel something? Feel that!” he chastised her as she lunged at him.
    â€œFuck you! Fuck. You,” she screamed as she beat his chest.
    He hemmed her up as she struggled to swing on him, but he overpowered her, restricting her movements as if she were in a straitjacket. “Snap the fuck out of this shit, Miamor! I know you lost your kid, but how many kids have you left motherless? Or fatherless? How many of them little mu’fuckas have you bodied?!”
    She keeled over, bawling, as the harsh reality of karma slapped her in the face. It was a far mightier blow than the one Murder had served.
    Murder had fought so hard to get to her. She had damn near killed him back in Miami when he had tried to take her away from The Cartel the first time. Still, he pursued her. He wanted her. He had to have her and now that he got her, time had changed her. She wore her grief like a heavy cloak. It weighed her down. There was no life behind her vacant stare. Her teary gaze was filled with nothingness, and it was hard to stomach. He felt like he was babysitting. Where was his ride-or-die? A nigga ain’t beat for this shit, he thought. His heart beat intensely. He was overwhelmed by anger and disappointment. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be when they reunited. The sulking, the depression, the insanity … he couldn’t understand her logic. Sure, he sympathized, but he was ready to get back to reality. Miamor was stuck in her grief. She was frozen.
    â€œI need my Murder Mama back,” he said as he bent down to help her stand. “That’s who you are, Miamor.” He motioned to her, waving his hand up and down her body. “This … this chick ain’t you. Bring my Murder Mama back. Murking something always made you feel better.”
    Miamor looked him in the eyes and blinked slowly. It took so much effort to do everything. All she really wanted to do was sleep.… If she could sleep forever she would be happy. In her dreams was the only place where she could see her son. “You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” she asked.
    A little patience crept into Murder’s heart as he replied, “You know that. Just tell me what you need.”
    â€œI need you to let me go,” she said. In one swift movement Miamor pulled Murder’s gun from his waistline.
    He chuckled as she pointed it at him. It was instincts like that—her murderous nature, her quick draw—that turned him on. It was over gunplay that they had connected and over gunplay that they would reconnect. He was sure of it. “That shit is in your blood, ma. I love this shit. This is the bitch I know … but I know you well enough to know you not gon’ curl that trigger on me,” Murder said. His hands were at his sides. He was relaxed