Cartier Cartel

by Nisa Santiago

  Jason watched in amusement and relief. He couldn't wait to have his wife back.

  Cartier pulled up ten minutes after Pinky had departed. She had sped the whole way over. She was ready to whip ass as she stomped up the driveway. Jason opened the door with only a pair of sweatpants on and a huge smile. He didn't even speak. He just grabbed Cartier in a bear hug and dragged her into the house. They began kissing passionately and groping each other. Cartier surmised the slick talking tramp had vacated the premises. Cartier dropped the matter. The bitch left. It wasn't worth mentioning. She had messed around with Monya and how could she expect any man to go without pussy for several days, let alone several months.

  "I love you, ma," Jason kept repeating through each kiss. He truly meant it. Whether his actions showed it or not, Cartier was the love of his life and he was miserable without her.

  For so long he wanted her and when he got her he didn't give her the respect she rightly deserved. Part of that was because he was a street dude and they didn't always play by the rules. And because he was still young and growing into a man each day. His father wasn't around when he was growing up to teach him how to be a man, so he let the streets dictate his actions. All his friends did fucked up shit to their women, fucking their best friends and whatnot, so instead of him being a leader, he followed other's lead. And that path wasn't putting a smile on his face. Holding and kissing his wife was what he realized made him happy. He hoped that they could redeem their relationship and make a new beginning.

  "I love you, too," Cartier replied.

  Jason realized tears were streaming down Cartier's cheeks. He'd truly put their marriage in jeopardy and he knew that he'd hurt her deeply.

  Jason pulled Cartier into their bed, the bed he'd only moments ago shared with Pinky and they began to make love. He ate her pussy until her legs trembled and she called out his name over and over again. The way she wrapped her legs around his waist and he sank deeper and deeper into her vaginal walls, connected the couple without words. They realized they had both made mistakes. But for now, those mistakes were left buried, underneath the surface. It was the blissfulness of the moment-a bliss they hoped wouldn't end.

  After hours of lovemaking and sleep, Jason was the first to speak. "Ma, I'm so sorry for all the hurt I put you through. I know I've fucked up time and time again, and each time you forgave me. I didn't know that you could, and would, finally get sick of me. I took you for granted and I realize that now."

  "You made it so hard to keep loving you," Cartier began. "Each time I forgave you and opened my heart to you, you would hurt me again, and I'd feel like a fool. I'm so afraid to try again, yet, my heart won't let you go. I gotta know if we give it one last try that I can trust you not to fuck me over."

  Jason had made up his mind. No more cheating. Ever. "You can trust me," Jason said and began to suck each of Cartier's fingers. "You're the only woman for me. I was sick without you and Christian. Promise me you won't ever leave me again."

  Jason looked deeply into Cartier's eyes. He wanted confirmation.

  "I promise," she replied and they kissed again. As Cartier lay on his chest, he softly stroked her back.

  "Are you and Monya through?"

  The question made Cartier uncomfortable, but she knew it was coming. She just nodded her head and that was enough for Jason. He squeezed her tighter and they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

  onya had to admit that she was desperate. Cartier had left in the wee hours of the morning with just a Post-it note that read: I'M SORRY. SOME DAY YOU'LL UNDERSTAND MY DECISION.

  Right now, all Monya could understand was getting up enough money to move her and Cartier away from New York, and the judgmental glares from people in their hood. Monya felt that not only was Cartier embarrassed by their relationship but she was also afraid that Monya wouldn't be able to support her as Jason could. Monya had a lot on her shoulders and a lot to prove. She needed Cartier to know that she was capable of getting that paper just as a man could. It didn't take much maneuvering for Monya to call Jesus, the Puerto Rican cocaine supplier she'd used for years. Monya had fucked him a few times in the past, but he wasn't ever going to wife her. He was too loyal to his Puerto Rican women to let a black chick be his main and only girl.

  "Jesus, what's good, papi?"

  "Oh, Monya, mami, long time, no?"

  "Si, daddy. Look, I need to hold something. I got moves to make. Comprende?"

  Jesus knew exactly what she was referring to and was glad she wasn't stupid enough to talk over the telephone. He told her to come through his stash house on Chestnut and Liberty Avenue in East New York, Brooklyn. Monya was excited about the prospect of making her own money again. Jesus had the lowest number around town, and his shit was pure white, Columbian uncut cocaine. The competition was selling a kilo for twenty-one five. She was going to monopolize the game by selling at nineteen. Jesus was giving her the keys on consignment at seventeen per brick, so she stood to make two large off each key.

  Monya dusted off the 1998 Ford Taurus stash car and went and picked up Shanine to make the run with her. They had to make two stops. The first stop was to meet Ryan, Cartier's old beat in North Carolina. Word was he was getting a lot of paper in Raleigh and was doing great for himself. He supposedly bought a large enough house for a half a million that motherfuckers were calling it a mansion. Five hundred thousand in New York bought you a dump with rats and roaches. Monya was definitely looking forward to moving her and Cartier out of town so they could live in luxury.

  "What's up, bitch?" Shanine joked as she got in the passenger's seat. She had an overnight duffle bag she put in the trunk, and a few books were strewn throughout the car to look the part, just in case they got pulled over on the highway.

  "Money, that's what's up," Monya said.

  "I feel you," Shanine replied. Things had gone south for her since they'd stopped hustling. She'd spent up her stash money and was struggling day to day to pay her bills. Monya had called right on time. She was about to go down to the welfare system and apply for assistance and food stamps. "You got the car inspected?"

  "Nah, we fin to go and do that now, that's why I'm here so early."

  "OK, cool."

  Monya knew getting the car inspected was a must. It was mandatory the brake lights worked properly, as well as the brake line and oil pan didn't leak. The worst thing that could happen when riding dirty was getting pulled over by the cops because a brake light was out or something else broke down. That wasn't a good thing on the highway with a car full of drugs. There were too many stories to tell of stupid motherfuckers getting locked up, because they didn't ensure their ride was working properly before filling it with drugs. Plus, the cops were on to the secret compartments on these cars, so they had to play the part to the hilt when cruising down I-95. Their freedom depended on it.

  After they got a clean bill from the mechanic, they headed toward Jesus.

  "So, what's the plan?" Shanine asked. "You didn't go into details over the phone. Who we hitting off and how much we making?"

  "True. OK, we about to get paid," Monya explained. "Ryan is in North Carolina right now, doing lovely. He wants eleven keys at nineteen each. We're gonna make twenty-two large off that. Then, Big Mike wants nine keys. He wants us to meet his man in South Carolina and then we head back home. We stand to make eighteen off him."

  "What Ryan? From Harlem? Cartier's old beat?" Shanine was inquisitive. She didn't like the sound of this.

  "Yeah, him," Monya replied. "He heard I had product for a good number and he reached out:

  Shanine was skeptical. "I mean, I know who he is, but he ain't ever copped from us before. What if this nigga try to rock us to sleep?"

  "He good peoples."

  "And why do he want so many?" Shanine's bullshit meter was on high. This whole joint didn't smell right to her.

  "Because we got the lowest number on the streets," Monya proudly replied. "Everybody else is coming in at twenty-one five. Do you know how m
y phone is ringing off the hook? We both gonna make twenty large each in two days time. After this one more run, I'm out the game for good this time.

  "Bitch, you said that eight months ago and you're back. You keep coming back because the money is fast. Fast money spends just as fast, so if you ask me, we got a few more years of this shit unless either one of us hits the lotto or meets a ball player stupid enough to marry one of us," Shanine joked.

  "Nah, I'm serious," Monya said and her tone changed. "I'm out for real. Once I save up fifty, I'm taking my son to Atlanta and chill out, buy a house and get a real job."

  "You seriously gonna leave me?"

  "Shit, you can come too. Ain't nothing stopping you. You don't have a steady man nor any kids, so you should think about it too."

  "But what made you decide this? I thought we were Brooklyn forever. Do or die in this motherfucker."

  "We're not kids anymore," Monya exclaimed. "I'm damn near thirtyyears old. I gotta think about my future. Don't you ever want out?"

  "Out of what?"

  "The game. Poverty. The bullshit."

  "Monya, I was born and raised around the riffraff. I think I'd feel out of place in some hick town around a bunch of country motherfuckers saying shit like, 'Yessum.' That's just not my style. I'm used to the gunshots, fights, designer clothes, the struggle, keepin' it real, I'm a full-fledged Brooklyn Bitch and I don't want change."

  Monya nodded. Although she didn't agree with Shanine, she certainly understood.

  "I guess I feel you, but one day you might change your mind and when that day comes, you better come and check us out in Atlanta."

  "Who're us? You and my godchild?"

  Monya hesitated. "Yeah, him. And Cartier..."

  Shanine cut her eyes toward her friend. "So it is true? Y'all really fucking around?"

  Monya's wide smile confirmed it all.

  "Damn, I wanted so badly to ask you if the rumors were true, but I didn't want you cursing me out. How the fuck that happened?"

  "It just happened."

  "Well, not to be disrespectful, but please spare me the details. In fact, let's change the subject."

  The thought of Monya and Cartier fucking gave Shanine the heebie- jeebies. She definitely didn't want any parts of Atlanta now that the situation became clearer.

  Monya took her time as she arrived on the street of Jesus's stash house. She thought it was clever as hell to run a multi-million dollar drug operation out of a dilapidated neighborhood. The houses looked to be eighty years old and every two feet, the streets had large potholes or broken pavement.

  At the house, security cameras were everywhere and the place was guarded by enough bodyguards packing heat. Monya backed the Taurus in the driveway of the gated property. Monya and Shanine went in through the side door, expecting to see Jesus, but he wasn't available. They stood face-toface with three Spanish speaking men, holding and pointing guns directly at them.

  Jesus being unavailable had unnerved both women. They were used to him being there. Jesus made them feel safe.

  Monya spoke. "We're supposed to pick up twenty keys on consignment. Jesus said it was OK. Why isn't he here?"

  "Don't worry mami. He say give you good stuff. He like you he say. We have it here," one of the gunmen said. He turned toward another gunman, "Vamoose."

  Within seconds, they were bringing out twenty neatly packaged kilos of cocaine.

  "Where do you want these?" the leader of the henchman asked. "The trunk of car?"

  "Umm, well no. We got a stash car," Monya explained. They understood perfectly. They also had stash cars. Most of their customers owned and used stash cars. Although it wasn't foolproof, it was a deterrent. The gunmen began loading the keys into Monya's secret compartments on her Taurus. Before they left, it wasn't without warning.

  "Jesus say you have three days to bring him three hundred forty thousand dineros. He say to tell you if you fuck around, you dead. OK, mami? You understand?"

  Monya exhaled. Not that Jesus wouldn't have given her the same threat, he just would have been a little more tactful in conveying his message.

  "Si, I understand."

  Monya and Shanine hopped in the car with Monya jumping in the driver's seat. They would switch driving every five hours until they reached their first destination. Monya popped in vintage Notorious B.I.G and they sat back and relaxed as their car glided down the highway.

  Big Mike was antsy and called Monya's cell phone incessantly during the ride 95-South.

  "Yo, how long y'all gonna be?" Big Mike complained. "I got peoples that need those joints."

  "I said I gotchu, nigga," Monya said, weighing her words while talking over the telephone. "We just got to make a quick stop in N.C. to hit off Ryan from up top and then we gonna come through and meet your man"

  "What Ryan? With the blow-out?"

  "Yeah, that nigga."

  "Right, do you. But hurry the fuck up!" Big Mike disconnected the call.

  They took their time reaching North Carolina, making sure to do the speed limit and stopping to eat. The drive took twelve hours and Monya called Ryan several blocks from his crib.

  "What's good, ma?" Ryan said when he answered the phone.

  "It's all good. We here."

  "Who're we? You know I don't fuck with a lot of peoples." Ryan was agitated. He didn't have any idea who Monya had with her, and in this business no one was to be trusted.

  "Nah, calm down. It's just me and Shanine. She's my road dawg. She's cool. You remember her, right?"

  "Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember shorty. OK, it's just y'all?"

  "Look, I just told you who I'm rolling with. We're tired as hell and you're acting paranoid. Are we gonna do this or not? I don't want to be out here like this...."

  "No doubt. Do you know how to get to my place?"

  "I don't know this fucking town," Monya replied. "Give me the address again and I'll put it in my GPS on my cell phone."

  Ryan hesitated. "Nah, don't do that. I don't like loose ends when shit ain't right, you know? Stay on the phone and I'll direct you from where you are."

  Ryan remained on speakerphone and guided the women to his remote location. When they arrived, Shanine opted to stay in the car.

  Monya thought about it and agreed. "You're right. I'll be out in a few minutes."

  Ryan approached the car and peered in. Both women looked at the neatly dressed man and both had the same thought. Ryan was definitely eye candy. But he'd done Cartier dirty and left her when she needed him most. Monya decided not to tell Cartier that she and Ryan had done a business transaction. She didn't know if the mention of his name would irritate Cartier and bring back bad memories.

  "What's up, ladies? Y'all look good," he began. Instantly they both showed Colgate smiles at the charming drug hustler.

  "Thanks. You ready?" Monya asked. She was truly tired and couldn't wait to get her hands on the quick money and continue to the next town.

  "I was born ready. Come on," Ryan said and opened up Monya's door. She jumped out and began to follow Ryan into the house when he noticed Shanine wasn't following. "She not coming?"

  "No, she's going to stay inside the car," Monya answered.

  "Oh, that's what's up. Where's the shit?"

  "Inside the stash."

  "What the fuck you waiting on?" Ryan snapped, which startled Monya. She shook off the feeling and decided to lay down the law.

  "We don't do business like that," she explained. "I'll come in and make sure the count is correct and then I'll give Shanine the paper and bring you the product. This ain't brain surgery, Ryan. It's a drug deal. I'm sure you've done plenty of transactions before."

  "Shit, listen to you, all sassy and shit." He laughed. "How you know this ain't my first time? You might have to show me a few moves."

  "Oh, please," Monya giggled.

  "You look like you have a few moves to show a nigga," Ryan said, eyeing Monya up and down. She knew he was flirting and switched her tiny hips a little harder. She didn
't want to swing an episode, but she was a woman and wanted to be wanted.

  "I don't know about all of that," Monya flirted back.

  "So from here where y'all headed?" Ryan asked. "Back to NY or do y'all have more stops?"

  "We got one more stop."

  "OK, then I better get you up out of here quick."

  Ryan led Monya.into a small two-story foyer. It was a nice sized home in a residential area. It had to be close to three thousand square feet.

  "Is this your house?"

  "Yeah, I own it, but I don't lay my head here. I just use it for business."

  Monya knew this wasn't the huge mansion that everyone was speaking of. But she would have been just as happy living in that house. It was the nicest home she'd ever been inside, and it probably cost peanuts. She couldn't wait to do the next few runs and buy her and Cartier a huge home in Atlanta.

  "You living large, ain't you?" Monya asked.

  "I'm doing all right," he began. "Go and take a seat inside the living room and I'll go get that paper."

  Monya walked and had a seat on the plush sofa. She really wanted to kick off her shoes and take a nap. She was tired as hell, but riding up and down I-95 was part of the game. That's how she made her money.

  She heard some rumbling upstairs and looked down at her watch. Ryan was taking too long to gather that dough.

  "Yo, hurry up," she yelled. "I got shit to do." Monya yawned a few times and was interrupted by her cell phone. It was Shanine.

  "What the fuck is going on inside there? You a'ight?"