Hell’s Diva: Mecca’s Mission
Anna J.
For Nyser and Tynayjah
Anything is possible when you put your mind to it.
Believe in your dreams!
Also By Anna J.
Novels
Snow White: A Survival Story
My Little Secret
Get Money Chicks
The Aftermath
My Woman His Wife
Anthologies
Divas, Diamonds, and Dollars
The Bedroom Chronicles
The Cat House
Flexin’ & Sexin’: Sexy Street Tales Vol.
I Fantasy
Morning Noon and Night: Can’t Get Enough
Fetish
Stories to Excite You: Ménage Quad
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter-Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Epilogue
Prologue
“You got in way over your head, Mecca,” Tah shouted as he paced back and forth in front of the bed. He had the look of pure evil on his face, and a harsh scowl that made his handsome face look ghoulish, hardly resembling the guy who women fell head over heels for.
“Tah, what are you talking about?” Mecca cried. She couldn’t believe the state she was in either. Never ever get caught off guard, that was the motto, but tonight she got caught slipping in a major way.
“You’re not your aunt, Mecca. She’s gone!”
“Put the gun away, Tah, and untie me, nigga. You high on them pills?” Mecca lay naked on the king-sized bed in her Hamptons villa apartment, struggling to get loose from the ropes that were tied to her wrists and ankles. Tah, her boyfriend of five years, stood at the foot of the bed pointing a chrome .50-caliber, Desert Eagle at her.
“Bitch, I ain’t your flunky! You hear me?”
“Tah, who the fuck said you was a flunky? You my peoples, nigga, not no flunky! You listening to them lame-ass niggas you be with, and they put this shit in your head. Be your own man, motherfucker!”
“Fuck you, Mecca!”
Boom! Boom! Boom! Mecca felt the first slug slam into her forehead, then everything went black, and a few seconds later she saw a bright light. In the bright light she noticed a silhouette walking toward her. When the person got closer, Mecca stared into the eyes of a tall, bronze-colored man with a perfectly round Afro, and a long, neatly shaped beard. The whites of his eyes looked as if there were flames burning behind his pitch-black pupils. His long, white robe looked as if he never moved in it. There were no signs that he traveled in it. When he spoke, his voice sounded as if he were in Mecca’s ears. It was like she had headphones on, and the volume was turned up to its maximum.
“I’ve been expecting you, Mecca. I’m glad you could make it,” the man chuckled.
Mecca looked down at his feet. The color of his feet matched his face, and his toes looked as if he had the best pedicure Mecca ever seen. His nails were evenly trimmed and glowing. Mecca didn’t have a foot fetish, but if ever she’d seen feet like that on a nigga she dealt with she would have sucked his toes without hesitation. Bringing her eyes back to his face, she gave the strange man a puzzled look. One he seemed to find amusing.
“Am I dead?” Mecca asked nervously.
“Are you dead? Are you dead? Physically, a few minutes ago, you died.” The man paused, shaking his head. “Mentally, you have been dead almost all your life.”
“What is that supposed to mean, and who are you anyway? What, you Jesus or God or somebody? Get it over with and take me where I’m going,” Mecca responded, her fear quickly turning to anger at what the man had said.
She knew Tah had killed her and wished she could be brought back to life if for only a second so she could send him straight to hell. She hated Tah, and the feeling grew stronger as the years had gone by. She knew eventually one of them would have to die; she was just pissed he got to her first.
“So many questions,” the man said sarcastically. “I love your feistiness, Mecca. We’ll make the best of friends, just please don’t mistake me for that Jesus guy. And no, I’m not God. You’re not on his good side, Mecca.”
“So you’re the devil, and I’m going to hell?” Mecca asked after sucking her teeth.
“We don’t use the word ‘devil’ around here. That’s a word man made up to separate himself from the evil that exists inside of all men. We don’t play word semantics, either. It is what it is. I’m just someone who knew that the evil inside of men would prevail over the good inside of them,” the man laughed. “You see, the semantics man used
