Cartier Cartel

by Nisa Santiago

  She didn't want to hear Jason trying to persuade her to come back home. She needed to leave him and pick her self-esteem off the floor.

  artier and Monya's relationship took off expediently. They couldn't explain or understand their relationship. They both swore they weren't lesbians, although they made love almost each night.

  "What are we doing?" Cartier asked.

  "I don't know. Let's not define it," Monya began. All I do know is that I don't want it to stop. You make me feel good and I'm finally able to be myself, flaws and all. When I'm with men I gotta put on this act and always be conscious about my actions. I gotta put on my sexy voice, toss my hair, keep my nails and toes painted, feed their egos ... I mean, the list goes on and on. I have to act interested in their stupid war stories. I mean, I'm tired of playing dumb. With you, you know me. You know the real me and I don't have to pretend."

  "Yeah, I hear you. But it's not like that with me and Jason. I don't put on any shows and neither should you. Don't let any man make you over. I know that I've put up with a lot of shit from Jason, but I was in a vulnerable position coming straight out of jail with a newborn baby. Your situation is different. You had your own crib, your own money, and a stable of men willing to take care of you. I had a baby to feed without any money and I didn't want to go back out there and begin hustling again, and risk being taken away from Christian. I did what I had to do."

  Monya shook her head. "Excuses. All you doing is making excuses. What happened to you? The Cartier I knew wasn't afraid of shit. She was a thinker who could put a plan together and take chances."

  "I guess jail happened to me. I got soft because I didn't want to go back." Monya tried her best to put herself in Cartier's position, but that was tough to do.

  ason crept down Fifth Avenue toward the 40/40 Club. The line was wrapped around the corner and it was nearly two in the morning. He'd already snatched up Pinky, a stripper at Club Desire in the Bronx. He had to promise her a night's pay if she left with him. His intentions were to take her straight home, so she could do a private dance for him. However, once they were rolling, he realized he wasn't ready to go in yet. He no longer had a curfew. When Cartier was home, she always told him what time to be home, usually before the sun came up. If the sun came up, then Cartier would lock his ass out. He did his best to push her out of his mind. She was the past, and so was his marriage.

  He peered at the sexy, young stripper and wondered how old she was. Her dark-chocolate skin looked shiny from the stage and felt like silk when he glided his hands down her shapely thighs. He couldn't tell whether her hair was real or a weave, and he liked her voice when she spoke-soft and flirty.

  "How old are you?"Jason asked.

  "I'm nineteen," she began. "I've been doing this shit for a year to pay for school."

  Jason had heard that lie before, but he decided not to judge her. He knew how hard it was out here for women having to use what they had to survive. "What school you go to?"

  Giggling, she replied, "I'm not in school, yet. I'm thinking about going to Hofstra for accounting."

  "If you're not in school, then how are you stripping to pay for college?" Jason nosily asked. "Did I miss something?"

  "Nah, what I meant is that I'm saving up all my money and then I'll enroll in college. I can't concentrate on college and dance as well. So, I'll do this for another year and then quit all together. I don't want to stop and then have to start again. Shit, I got bills and when I enroll, I'll also need money to pay for my living expenses."

  "Don't they got financial aid for all that?"

  Again, she giggled. "I guess..."

  "What's so funny?"Jason asked, annoyed.

  "I don't know," Pinky replied, as she slid her small hand up toward Jason's flaccid penis.

  It took his dick more than a quick hand movement to get hard. He was thirty-one years old and a heavy drinker. But he still appreciated the gesture.

  "Why do they call you Pinky, and not Blacky?" Jason wanted to know. He wasn't trying to be rude, yet didn't care if she got offended. He loved dark chocolate girls. The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice.

  Yet again, she giggled and Jason became slightly annoyed.

  "Because my pussy lips are so pink," she retorted.

  Jason, with Pinky trailing behind, walked directly to the V.I.P. line and immediately caught the head bouncer's, Big Mike, attention. The rope chain was instantly opened, and Jason and Pinky were led through. Jason gave Big Mike a pound with two crisp one hundred dollar bills folded neatly.

  Inside the club was a jungle gym. It was hot, sweaty, and overflowing with young men and women. The 40/40 Club had definitely turned into a twentyfive and under club, and although Jason was over thirty, he loved checking out the young girls dressed so scantily. He realized the young women he fucked didn't come with the baggage like his former mistress, Monya. They were easy to maintain, because they didn't have shit, and didn't want much, so no overhead. He could buy them a pair of sneakers or jeans, or just toss them hair and nail money. Meanwhile, older women had rent or mortgage payments, car notes, daycare expenses, and credit card bills. Additionally, they didn't have any qualms asking him to take care of one or all of their damn expenses. Plus, he could tell a young girl any dumb shit that popped in his head and they'd believe him.

  Jason only stayed long enough to have a couple shots of Hennessy. He knew in New York the cops had cracked down on drinking and driving. They had roadblocks set up outside of all the popular hot spots, and he couldn't afford to catch a bullshit case.

  "That was fun, right?" Pinky exclaimed.

  "Not really."

  "No?"

  "What the fuck did we do?"

  "I think the music was good." Pinky could tell he was annoyed, but she played it off. As long as the money was right and long, she was cool with his attitude.

  Jason started the car, but kept it in idle. "I got better plans to have fun. You're coming with me tonight. Do you have a problem with that?"

  "My time is yours," she giggled. "But my time costs."

  Instantly, Jason stomped on his brakes. "Let's get this straight, baby girl. I don't pay for pussy. Now I said I'd give you a couple dollars for leaving work early, but don't get carried away. I don't give a fuck about you! I mean, you look a'ight, but don't sit up here like you fucking Queen Sheba. I fucked better bitches than you and you're not doing me any favors. You can get the fuck out right here and don't let my car door hit you on your way out."

  Pinky was startled by his outburst. The gentleman she'd left the club with had left the car. She was now with a man who had a temper and spooky eyes. She felt that perhaps the last line about her time being costly was a bit overstated. She was tired of getting used and fucked for free. Since Jason seemed like he could afford to spare a couple dollars, she went for it. And although she knew she wasn't the cutest chick in the world, she knew she had a wet, tight pussy, and knew how to work her hips. She told herself that after they fucked and he got a shot of her pink pussy, she'd crack on him for some dough.

  "I'm sorry, baby," she crooned. "I was being silly. I want to go home with " you.

  ason began drinking heavily after Cartier and Christian moved out. At first he pretended to enjoy his newfound freedom, staying out late most nights and making it rain money in all the high-end strip clubs and trendy hotspots. But after two weeks of blowing through money and rolling in and out of different women's beds, the nostalgia was over and he wanted his wife back. Only he couldn't find her.

  He didn't believe Trina when she said she didn't know where she was, but after stalking Trina and Barn, there wasn't any sign of Cartier. And finally, when he couldn't get any pussy from Monya and she wouldn't return any of his calls, he realized he had finally been dumped by both his wife and mistress.

  He decided to drive back over to Trina's for his daily harassment. As he pulled on the block, he saw something that almost stopped his heart. Monya's white BMW was parked in front of Trina's building, and Carti
er, Monya, Jason Jr., and Christian were getting out. The visual damn near turned his hair white from shock. Inexplicably, he was enraged. His actions of sleeping with both women were supposed to drive a wedge between Monya and Cartier, and now it seemed as if they were best friends again. How? Why? His mind searched for answers.

  Enraged, he jumped out of his jeep and approached the passenger's side, startling Cartier. "Yo, where the fuck you been all this time?" he asked in a huff.

  Calmly, Cartier continued to unlatch Christian's car seat as Monya gathered Jason Jr. and quickly went to stand by her friend's side. Slowly, she pulled out her cell phone and called Trina. "Ma, come downstairs and get Christian."

  "Nah, she not taking my daughter no-fucking-where!" Jason's eyes were darting from Cartier to Monya. If he'd had an ounce of liquor in his bloodstream, he would have gone off and attacked both women. He was that angry. His sober mind allowed him to keep everything in the right perspective. Both his kids were there.

  "Don't start acting a fool out here," Cartier threatened.

  "Who you think you talking to?"Jason continued to raise his voice. "You gonna take my daughter from me and I don't know where you've been at for weeks?"

  "I told you that I was out and that I wanted a divorce," Cartier responded. "If you want to see your daughter, you're going to have to do what regular people do, which is file for visitation rights with family court. And I will be seeking full custody and child support."

  Jason could hardly believe his ears. This was the hood, and nobody got a legal divorce with proper paperwork. They just separated and lived out their lives. Secondly, visitation rights and child support? She was talking like a suburban housewife. Cartier needed to look in the mirror and see her black face, because right now she was acting as if her name was Becky.

  "Save that bullshit act you putting on, OK. I don't know who you trying to-"

  "What's going on out here?" Trina said as she trotted down the steps toward the small commotion with Fendi trailing behind her.

  Cartier handed Christian to Trina, who was confused. She saw Monya and Jason and Cartier, and knew something was about to go down. Trina knew Cartier could whip Monya's ass any day, but she really didn't want them fighting over Jason. She had so many questions she wanted to ask Cartier. Primarily, where she had been the past couple of weeks. But Cartier had other instructions.

  "Nothing much, Ma," Cartier answered. "Just take Christian upstairs and I'll be up there shortly."

  Monya wasn't leaving Cartier outside by herself with Jason acting crazy. She walked past Jason and asked Fendi to take Jason Jr. Upstairs too.

  Trina was really confused, but she wasn't fucking with Monya. "No," she yelled, "take him to your mother!"

  "Ma, no, take him upstairs too," Cartier intervened. "It's all right, I'll explain later."

  Now Trina's mind felt like scrambled eggs. She realized not to ask any more questions, because she wasn't about to get any answers. All she could do was take the kids upstairs and wait.

  While all this was transpiring, Jason had his hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent himself from flipping out. When his kids were out of earshot, he started in on Monya.

  "What the fuck you staying around for?" he shouted. "You need to carry your ass on too. This is about me and my wife!"

  "Don't front now like you the family man, 'cause she already knows everything! And I mean, everything," Monya taunted. She loved watching him squirm. It was in that moment Monya knew she would never be a man's mistress again. She was too good for that.

  At Monya's threat, Jason's disposition changed. He decided to use another approach to get his wife back. His voice was now a plea. "Ma, I want you to come home. Let's straighten this out, just you and me. You know I love you. I love my family and I don't know how we got here."

  "I'm not going back," Cartier began. "I gave you all the chances I could and now I'm done. I want out."

  "Nah, I'm not letting you go," Jason protested. "What do you want me to do? Beg? OK, I'm begging you to come back."

  Monya inched closer to Cartier to remind her that she was still there. "Cartier, don't believe that bullshit"

  "Monya, I will beat the fuck out of you out here," he threatened and stepped closer to Monya. Cartier held out her hand in defense of Monya.

  "Stop bugging out!" Cartier exclaimed. "This ain't her fault."

  "This bitch don't give a fuck about you!" Jason screamed. "She's playing you right now. She's just jealous of what we shared and mad that I don't want her ass."

  "You want my pussy though," Monya shot back. Jason was so humiliated and aggravated that he swung on Monya, only missing her head by inches. Cartier and Monya both reacted and swung back on Jason, who was able to block both blows. Stunned at Cartier's actions, he staggered backwards toward his vehicle. He needed time to clear his head, because at the moment, he felt like he was in a bad movie. He noticed an exchange between the two women and couldn't understand what was going on. It seemed eerie the way they were protecting each other. Then he remembered that they once had a special bond. Cartier even did a bid for Monya.

  Jason didn't know what he could do to make Cartier feel the same pain he was feeling. He thought about running upstairs and snatching Christian, but then he thought about his freedom. Who would watch the baby later on tonight when he wanted to run the streets? And besides, it was better to keep Cartier tied down with a baby, just in case she'd met a new nigga. Jason had already told himself if he found her fucking with another nigga, he would beat the shit out of her. He also knew he was going to find out about that Harlem nigga she used to fuck with named Ryan, and see if they were fucking around behind his back.

  He was indomitable. Nothing could keep him down.

  s the weeks passed, Jason continued to call Trina and beg her to tell Cartier to come home. Each time, she refused. Jason was sick to his core. He stopped eating properly, caring about his attire, and refused to get a haircut. He'd fallen into a deep depression and there wasn't a party, woman, or homeboy that could pull him out of it. He was used to waking up, hugging his wife's shapely body, and kissing the back of her neck. He missed her making breakfast in the morning or waking up with Christian between them and baby toes in his face.

  Jason concluded that he was the biggest idiot on the planet. He gave up his stability for Monya, someone he wasn't even in love with, even after his wife had warned him to stay away.

  ason still found it hard to believe Cartier had left him and taken their daughter with her. The most disturbing thing was he didn't have any idea where they were. He knew Monya had something to do with the breakup. He kept telling himself that was why he left her ass alone, but he knew it was the other way around-she stopped fucking with him. In many ways, he was a broken man, but it wasn't something he would admit. To admit it meant he had failed, and there was nothing strong about that. Cartier was his love, Monya was his pussy, and he didn't have either. Losing your woman and your pussy on the side made a strong man weak. He didn't like that shit. And to add insult to injury, they both changed their cell phone numbers.

  It was mink weather in New York and Jason had on a velour sweatsuit and goose down jacket. Hennessy warmed up his body as he stood outside of his jeep smoking a cigarette and talking shit to Wonderful.

  "Yo, when I see that bitch, I'ma put my foot dead in her ass for taking my seed from me," Jason complained.

  "Yo, that was some foul shit she did," Wonderful agreed. "I can't believe you ain't heard from her in months, dog. That's some gangsta shit she on."

  "You know Cartier ain't no punk," Jason responded. "She got a lot of hurt inside her, and she knows the best way to get at me is through my daughter."

  As they were talking, Wonderful spotted the jeep first. "Speak of the devil. Ain't that Monya's ride right there?"

  Jason looked toward the white BMW as it stood at the light. After a few seconds, his eyes focused on the passenger. Their eyes met and he dropped his cigarette and began to walk toward the curb.
/>
  Now Monya was staring at him and instantly, he raced toward the car. Only Monya didn't stop. She stepped on the gas and bounced. Jason quickly jumped in his SUV and gave chase.

  He hadn't seen either one of them in months. His mind was boggled that these two were together again. What the fuck was going on? Why didn't he check Monya for Cartier? Never in his wildest imagination did he think they'd be living together. Were they living together? He didn't know, but he was going to find out. As each car weaved in and out of traffic, Jason now had plans to beat both women down. Monya was running from him and Cartier for leaving him sick.

  By the time Monya hit Atlantic Avenue, Jason decided to fall back. He realized he was riding dirty and if he got pulled over, he'd do a couple years for the burner he had in his glove compartment. He let her get away and decided he'd catch them both in front of Monya's building. Jason made a quick left onto Howard Avenue and peeled off. He knew if he sat and waited for Monya to pull up, they'd spot him and take off. He thought he'd simply wait until early morning, park down the street, and catch them when they were walking out. That was his plan, until his pride crept in.

  Why the fuck was he trying to find someone who didn't want to be found? Wife or no wife, Cartier making Monya step on the gas and fly through the streets of Brooklyn like he was some sort of stalker had him vexed. Did she not realize he wanted to see his daughter and she didn't have any right to take Christian away?

  He remixed his plans and decided that first thing in the morning, he would file a police report, file for divorce, and also file papers with family court for full custody. If she wanted to play, he would go hard and show her who she was fucking with.

  artier received the certified letter demanding she appear in Family Court on January 17. The next day, a petition for divorce was served from a court process server. Both documents were sent to Monya's address and caught Cartier off guard. She never expected Jason to serve her with papers, and worse, she was inexplicably hurt that Jason didn't come and try to take her and Christian back. He refused to fight. He decided to go legal. She knew she had to get her act together, but the thought of Jason knowing where she was and didn't put up an effort to get her back plucked a nerve.