“Why haven’t you signed the divorce papers my lawyer sent you?”
“That’s why I’m here. Why are you doing this?”
“If I have to spend one more second talkin’ about this bullshit, I’ma blow my own fuckin’ head off. Not today, Malachi Muhammad. I’m done.”
Cartier went inside her apartment and slammed the door shut in his face.
Head took a gulp from the tequila bottle clutched in his hand and knocked repeatedly on Pebbles’ apartment door. It was 2am and he was clearly drunk and depressed. He leaned against her door, too inebriated to pull out his key, and continued to knock, creating a disturbance inside her building.
“Baby . . . open the door. Please. I-I wanna see ya,” he slurred. “Open up, baby . . . open-open up.”
The door swung open and Pebbles quickly pulled him inside. She wanted him to stop making a ruckus.
He staggered into her living room and smiled at her, stammering, “Where . . . where my baby girl at?”
“She’s sleeping, Henry, and I don’t need you waking her up,” Pebbles said to him.
“Can-can I give her . . . a kiss goodnight?”
“You’re drunk,” she said.
No longer able to maintain his balance, he stumbled and fell onto her couch. The half-empty bottle finally fell from his hand. She sighed. It was going to be a long night. She helped him to his feet and into the second bedroom, where she helped him undress.
“I miss her,” he cried out all of a sudden.
Those three words sent warm and fuzzy feelings into Pebbles’ stomach. She thought he was talking about Piper.
“I miss her a lot, Pebbles,” he reiterated.
“Just get some sleep,” she said.
“I miss her!” he said, more forcefully this time.
“Shhhhhh. Didn’t I say be quiet? You’ll wake up Piper.” It was hard to shut up a drunken man.
“Baby, she don’t want me anymore. And I still love her.”
Wait, what? “You miss who, baby?”
“I was foolish. I did all this shit to hurt her. I wanted her to hurt like I was hurting. I don’t wanna lose her.” Head began sobbing. His actions frightened her. He was animated and full of grief like someone had died. “I fuckin’ went too far wit’ this shit.”
His body was heaving in and out like a man in great pain. If he were not crying over another woman, she would have been saddened that he was in such agony. It didn’t matter that he was smashed, which was causing him to be hyper-sensitive. Pebbles stood over him frozen. What was going on? First Cartier came over wanting to spill secrets and now this?
She eventually sat down next to him and grabbed him in a warm embrace. Head rested his head on her breasts and began to calm down. Pebbles finally wanted answers.
In a soothing voice as she rubbed his temples she asked, “Are you upset over Cartier? Is that why you’re crying?”
Head began to calm down. “What! No!” he denied.
“You don’t love her, Henry?”
“I don’t love that bitch! She asked me for a divorce! I’m divorcing her trifling ass! She be cheatin’ and shit.”
“She’s has someone else? Is that why you’re crying?” Pebbles voice was still measured and soothing.
“I fucked up, Pebbles. This all on mmm-me.” His voice cracked as he tried to keep it together. “I got something to tell you, but if I do you gonna leave me too.”
“I won’t leave you, baby. Just tell me.”
He screamed out, “You lying! You will too!”
“Shhhhhsh! Stop yelling!” she snapped, and then continued with, “What is it that I need to know?”
“Piper, my baby girl, she has siblings on the way I want her to meet.”
“Oh, is that why you’re upset?” Pebbles sighed in relief. “I already know that Cartier is pregnant and we’re on better terms.”
“Not Cartier! That’s not my fucking baby! She’s a cheater. She’s a cheater and I hate her!”
Pebbles was confused. However, that small voice in her mind told her what was coming next. It was why Cartier came over.
“If you’re not talking about her, then who is having your baby?”
Head sat straight up and looked her in her eyes. “Haven’t you been listening? Piper has five siblings on the way.”
Pebbles blinked rapidly. “Did you say five? How is that even possible? Are you telling me that someone—not Cartier—is having quintuplets?”
“I’m telling you that there are five great women that I want you and Piper to meet. Mandy is due any day now, so Piper will have a brother or sister very soon, Pebbles. I need you to get acquainted with these women. The same women that Cartier met, but she fucked everything up. She fucked everything up.”
The conversation reverted back to Cartier, and Pebbles had to walk away. She left Head in the spare bedroom brooding and feeling sorry for himself until he finally passed out. Pebbles sat in her kitchen numb for hours, just staring straight in front of her. She tried to process what he had said, but there was no getting around that fact that there were five women having five babies by the man she loved. And if Cartier was pregnant by Head, then that made six. How was Pebbles ever going to explain to her daughter, who would be the oldest of seven, this ghetto soap opera?
The next day, when Head finally woke from his drunken stupor and came back to his senses, Pebbles had nothing to say to him. She gave him the silent treatment all morning.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s fine,” she replied dryly.
“Well, I need to go. Okay?”
“Fine.”
Head kissed his newborn baby girl goodbye and left the apartment. Pebbles didn’t want a hug or a kiss from him. Head found it strange, but he shrugged his shoulders and went on his way.
Soon after his departure, Pebbles was on the phone with a locksmith. She wanted to change her locks and finally be done with Head. She would allow him to see his daughter, but she would no longer be his mistress, his side bitch, or otherwise.
No more head games.
37
He’s probably seeing her again, Harlem thought to herself. She didn’t want to think about it, but the thought of Head with Cartier tore her up inside. She was completely in love with him and she didn’t want to lose him—not to Cartier, Pebbles, or anyone. Harlem wanted to be the primary woman in Head’s life. She and Mandy had given birth to his children, but she gave birth to his son, Henry Jackson, Jr. She was happy living in Flint, but she seethed when Head was away.
While he was gone, Harlem was holding down the fort. With Head away, the atmosphere on the compound suddenly shifted and changed. Though she was a sister wife and Head preached to them about unity and togetherness, Harlem treated the other girls like dirt when he wasn’t around to see.
The girls were in the basement processing the drugs, cutting up the cocaine, and packaging the heroin and pills for distribution while Harlem was coordinating the drug runs. It was a business she felt proud to be in charge of. She had come a long way from being an escort for Esmeralda, and she wasn’t going backwards. Though she owed Cartier a lot, she wanted to be in her shoes. Harlem wanted to become like Cartier—but a better version of her.
Harlem made sure the kids were studying and that the house was spotless. She made sure Mandy, Kandy, Melissa, and Jacki performed their daily duties. She did everything Head demanded of her, and she felt overlooked by him. She was a new mom and no longer wanted to share Head. She became more vocal when brokenhearted.
When Head returned to the compound, she could tell that he had a lot on his mind.
“You look stressed out, Daddy. Let me make things better for you,” said Harlem, ready to please him in any fashion and help him unwind from his trip to New York.
“I’m fine,” he replied, not wanting to be bo
thered.
“Well, everything’s been taken care of. During your absence, I had everything moving smoothly.”
He ignored her statement as he sat in his armchair and threw back a shot of vodka.
“She wants a divorce,” he blurted out.
“Isn’t that good news, Daddy?” Harlem said brightly.
Once again, he ignored her and continued to think about something. She hoped it wasn’t about Cartier.
“I’m not giving her a divorce. She’s my wife and she will always be my wife,” he said.
“You should give her what she wants. We don’t need her. You have me, Daddy. I’m here for you twenty-four seven. I can take care of all of your wants and needs. I can easily take her place and treat you so much better.”
Head snorted. In his book, Harlem wasn’t even runner-up. She was tied in third place with Jacki.
“I love you, Daddy. I do, and together, we can do whatever we want out there. It’s your world, Daddy. It is. I believe in you,” she said.
Head turned to look at her and coldly responded with, “Stop with that Daddy bullshit! You sound like a whore!”
“Yes, Malachi,” she replied quickly.
“And stop tryin’ so fuckin’ hard. You ain’t her. You never gonna be her!”
Head had this wild look in his eyes that began to frighten Harlem.
“I wish I could erase all y’all bitches—the kids too—and memories and all this fuckin’ foolishness. Fuck it! I would do anything to get her back into my life. I took this shit too far! This fake-ass King Solomon bullshit!”
Head flung the vodka bottle across the room, and it crashed against the wall. Glass and liquid splattered everywhere.
His response shocked Harlem. It was hurtful. Still being subservient she asked, “Do you want me to clean that up?”
“I want you outta my fuckin’ face, outta my fuckin’ life. If I wake up tomorrow and never see you again, please know that I will give no fucks.”
It was apparent to Harlem that she would never take Cartier’s place and she would never have Head’s heart the way Cartier did. They had history. Harlem quietly walked away, refusing to allow him to see her cry.
38
Are you ready to know what you’re having?” Dr. Smith asked her. Cartier wanted to have a gender reveal party, so she had asked Dr. Smith to not tell her at their previous ultrasound. She had changed her mind about the party, and now she wanted to know.
Cartier nodded. “I’m ready.”
They both were looking at the monitor as he moved the probe along the ultrasound gel and then finally stopped.
“It’s a boy.”
“Are you sure?”
He laughed. “Oh, I’m sure.”
“I’m having a son. My first son,” she announced with joy.
“Congratulations! Well, everything reads well, and your blood work came back fine. You’re going to have a healthy son,” he said.
She grinned. Cartier needed the good news. Everything seemed to be falling into place.
“You seem happier since our last visit,” he said.
“I have a reason to be happy.”
“Do you feel like sharing the news?”
She did. “Before here, I went by a property that I’m renovating and it’s almost complete. The Cartier Cartel’s Clubhouse is a go. All my hard work is going to pay off.”
“Another congratulations,” he said. “And this project, what does it deal with?”
“It’s a community outreach program for young teenage girls to help them get an education, job placement, and mentors and internships.”
Dr. Smith couldn’t hide it; he was impressed and proud of her. “You’re doing a lot.”
“I’m just trying to give back, that’s all.”
“You’re doing more than others, that’s for sure. But listen, if you need me to help out in any way I can, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
She didn’t understand how her doctor could help out with her project. And seeing the slightly perplexed expression on her face, he explained himself more.
“Since this is my own practice, and until the girls can get healthcare, I can offer them free checkups and screenings. I can also talk to the pharmaceutical companies to give sample contraceptives and medicine. And I can drop by the place to teach the girls about their health and safe sex and give out brochures—whatever I can do to help out in the community.”
Cartier was surprised by his generosity. She needed more contacts like Dr. Smith.
“I’m floored, Dr. Smith. You are a wonderful man, and I’m thankful for all your help.”
“I’ve seen how bad it is out there. I have dozens of young girls come see me, and the condition most of them are in, it’s heartbreaking.”
“It is.”
Dr. Smith told Cartier about a young girl who was eighteen years old. She had fallen on hard times. She was the perfect candidate for her project because at the moment she was staying with relatives, and her aunt was very abusive toward her.
Cartier asked for the girl’s number and said, “I’ll look into it and see if I can’t help her out.”
He smiled and replied, “We need more blessings like you in this community.”
Cartier had gotten dressed and was standing to make her follow up appointment when Doctor Smith asked if he could speak with her in his office. She went in and sat down.
“I don’t usually do this, but after I deliver your healthy baby, would you consider going out on a date with me?”
Her eyes widened from shock. He saw the look on her face and was completely embarrassed. “I mean, I know that’s a few months off and only if you’re not with someone, of course . . . and I could recommend another doctor—I mean, I know this is awkward, but I wanted you to know that I would like to get to know you. Please, say something.” He was rambling.
Cartier finally smiled. “It’s not awkward at all. Well, maybe a little with you seeing my goodies and all. Maybe this is sexual harassment.”
Now his eyes widened.
“I’m joking,” she chuckled. “Let’s revisit this after you deliver my son, because if something happens to him during my delivery, you won’t live long enough for our dinner date.”
He waited a beat and then burst out laughing. “You’re a funny one. Looking forward to our first dinner. Take care, Cartier.”
“You, too, Dr. Sm—Allen.”
It was another clandestine meeting with Majestic and Scooter in an undisclosed part of Brooklyn. Cartier arrived in the Tahoe under the cover of night, and she never got out of the vehicle. Her protruding stomach was making it more difficult to get around. She could feel her baby kicking, and it was a gentle nudge against her skin.
Majestic and Scooter arrived alone. Though they ran the day-to-day operations, Cartier was still the one calling the shots. Her men were holding things down in the streets, from cash transactions to murder if needed. They were also excited to become uncles. When word got back to them that she was having a boy, they were happier than she was.
“A nephew, that’s what up,” said Majestic.
“You know we gon’ look out fo’ da the little nigga, fo’ real, Cartier,” Scooter added.
They treated Cartier like family and fawned over her like she couldn’t do anything wrong.
“But business been good and quiet on the streets—no problems since that stick-up last year,” Majestic told her.
“What ’bout ya husband? Just give us the word and he can be dealt wit’, Cartier. He violated you and almost put us in a bad position with Caesar,” Scooter kept reminding her. They had been begging to murder Head since she had gotten back from Michigan.
“I’ll handle him on my own time,” Cartier replied.
“Indeed,” Scooter said.
Their meeting was short. Cartier g
ot the information she needed from them, along with a duffel bag full of cash to launder, and she went on her way. With Majestic and Scooter in charge, she was able to insulate herself from the drug trade and the streets. But the one thing she couldn’t insulate herself from was Caesar. He had called her to meet again.
Despite being pregnant, Cartier entered the Brooklyn lounge that Caesar owned looking like she could walk the red carpet at a swanky Hollywood award show. Her sexy red spring dress covered her pregnancy with class and style. She arrived at the place with butterflies swimming around in her stomach. She didn’t know if she was nervous because Caesar was unpredictable or because she was still attracted to him and might be carrying his baby. She was hesitant to show up, but at the last minute she changed her mind.
The lounge was full with customers, but the teeming atmosphere was of no concern to her. The moment she stepped inside, she was greeted by a young woman and was escorted to a private room for dinner.
Caesar was already seated at the table. Seeing Cartier walk into the area, he stood up from his chair and helped her take a seat at the table. Her body was constantly changing, and getting up and sitting back down was becoming slightly more difficult for her every day.
“You look exceptional tonight,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Once again, I’m glad you came to join me for dinner. I know our last encounter was a bit awkward.”
“It was.”
“This is my way of making it up to you.”
Everything was beautiful. The décor was overflowing with colorful flowers and balloons and flowing drapes. There was a bottle of Chateau Cheval Blanc on their table, which cost over $1,000 a bottle. Two servants were on standby, and the chef waited in the kitchen, ready to prepare whatever they desired.
Caesar grinned and said, “I heard that you’re having a boy… Noticias maravillosas.”
He knew everything. It was scary.
“Yes.”
“And have you thought about any names yet?”
“No. It’s too soon.”
Cartier Cartel--Part 4 Page 23
