Cartel Dreams: A Love Story

by Nicety

  In all honesty, I had no idea who her man was but I had a feeling of the person who did. But she wasn’t trying to hear that though. So because she wouldn’t hear it, she got her ass tagged. I tried to warn her that she didn’t want none of this shit but she kept yapping off at the mouth. This is what happens when a bitch ran off at the mouth too much.

  “Bitch and if you come at me again, I’m gonna cut your ass.” I removed the small blade from my hair shoving it to her eyes to see. “You see this shit bitch?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she gurgled through the blood spewing from her mouth.

  “Good.” My hand shoved her head into the ground as I stood up from sitting on her body. “Any of you hoes want some?”

  Everyone backed away. One of her friends was recording the entire thing but didn’t lift a finger to jump in and help. None of the four girls she had brought with her to my doorstep had helped her. Instead, they stood around laughing like it was a sideshow attraction. That stupid bitch didn’t even have enough since to bring some ‘bout it friends to the fight. Stupid ass. I went back into my house slamming the door behind me giving the crowd the hint to disperse.

  “What’s going on out there, Daisy?” Momma asked slew footing it towards the kitchen headed for the refrigerator.

  “Same ol’ shit momma. Same ol' shit.” I shook my head as I took a seat at the island counter.

  “Ooo, girl. You’d better watch your mouth up in here.” Momma turned around shooting me the one eyebrow raised look.

  “My bad momma. I’m just tired of these chicks always trying to pull it with me because they can’t keep their niggas in check.” I buried my head in my hands plopping them all on the table.

  “Awe baby. You are a very hot commodity. Look at how beautiful you are. You’re an almond flavored 5’5” African goddess. In Africa, you would be consider very wealthy because at 195 pounds of juicy chunkiness, you are they consider you sexy and beautiful. A woman with meat on her bones is said to be eating good, which means she's wealthy.” Momma snapped her fingers before pouring a glass of orange juice and fixing her pink terry cloth robe around her waist. “But most importantly, you’re Daisy Faye and girls feel threatened by someone way above their level. Girl, you get it from your momma of course. Embrace that beauty girl.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. That lady was straight crazy. My mother was forty-eight and a beautiful mocha skinned African queen. She migrated to the states with her parents years ago from Nigeria in West Africa. Often she spoke highly of the Hausa tribe she was from and always wanted me to go back to learn more about the culture.

  My dad was an African American born citizen on the other hand and a simple factory worker where he met my mom. She finished college and began working there within six months of graduation as a payroll clerk. Daddy used to say even though they were from two different worlds, when they met they just clicked. But according to his mom, no one was ever good enough for her son. So I didn’t associate with that part of my family at all. However, having recently moved back in with momma from the dorms after graduating from Chicago State last month, we were really becoming close.

  “So, did you mess with her man?” Momma took a sip from her cup eyeing me from the top of it.

  “No, momma. You know me better than that,” I laughed slapping my hand on the table. “You know who they were here for.”

  “Yes, yes. I don't see how you have friends like that but that's none of my never mind. Anyway, I know my baby is a good girl saving herself for Mr. Right. But even the one you think is right could be wrong baby. I just don’t want you to end up getting hurt thinking that you’ve found the right guy and he turns out to be an asshole once you drop him the goodies.” She winked her eye.

  I loved her knowledge and almost always listened. I looked down at the plastic slip covered thesis from my dissertation with a few yellow sticky notes on it. Attending Chicago State University may not have been a big deal to some but it was everything to me. Momma was in tears with happiness for me when I graduated with my Bachelors degree in pre-law.

  I stared down at the one thing that stood out to me, which was the bright red A+ posted right at the top next to my name. My eyes were filled with nothing but pride and I could think of nothing but the glimmer in momma’s eyes when she told me how proud of me she was at graduation last month. She used to tell me that it was always better to be more book smart than street smart but a real queen always knew both.

  I just wished my dad could have lived to see it. Since his death, life had been hard for me. He died in the middle of my senior year of high school, in a catastrophic car accident on the way to their 20th anniversary party one rainy night. He was running late from work and everyone was waiting on him to get there. The police answered his phone to let us know what happened. The news described it as one of the bloodiest in the history of Chicago. The car was wrapped around a pole near King Drive so badly that stormy night that it took nearly 3 days to clean up the guresome crime scene.

  My mother’s parents were both dead so she relied heavily on her friends and I for support. Naturally my fraternal grandmother didn't want to have anything to do with her own son’s funeral or us. She blamed the entire thing on what she called my “whore of a mother”. Momma was far from what she thought she was. That was five years ago and I was now a twenty three year old college graduate trying to decide if I wanted to go to graduate school for a masters, law school or if I just wanted to take a break and work.

  “I know momma. I just don’t have time for men right now. They’re all full of shit, always lying about having another woman or not. Ain’t nobody got time for that.” I waved her off.

  “Well all I’m saying is those child bearing hips ain’t getting no younger.” Momma winked as she left the room.

  I snatched my IPhone from the other side of the table when it vibrated. Embry, my best friend since freshman year of high school sent me a text. If ever there was a ghetto chick that had never seen any parts of the ghetto it was she. Her parents where kind of wealthy and took care of all of her needs. All she had to do was go to college. That was done but Embry had no idea what she wanted to do with her life.

  Embry: What’s Good chick?

  Me: Shit, thinking. What’s good with you?

  Embry: I was going to swing thru but I’m thinking like you should come down here. Parties tonight. Let’s do this.

  Me: You know that nigga you fucking with got his bitch coming to my house cause you got him dropping you off over here and shit. This is the third time I’ve had to whoop a bitch’s ass for you. I ain’t doing the shit no more. Next time I’m giving them your address.

  Embry: Damn. My bad. Well, you don’t gotta worry about him no more. I canned his ass. Too much drama, not enough dough. But you know I can’t have the hood niggas at my parents’ spot. We live too good. Hood niggas find out you stay downtown and they’re ready to rob you and shit.

  Me: So you send them to my house bitch? Naw, find you another house for that.

  Embry: Awe, Daisy. I said my bad. Sour ass. Anyway, are you coming my house or not?

  Me: Embry, I’m so not playing with you and I don’t feel like partying. Go whoring by yourself.

  Embry: What are you scared of? Giving that virginity away and actually have some damn fun for once in your life?

  Me: Ugh, bye Embry.

  She texted me back but I didn’t answer. Instead I headed up to the stairs towards my room. As I passed by, I noticed momma in her room preparing for yet another hot date with the new guy she’s been seeing. I was happy that she had finally gotten her grove back and being dating for the past six months. She was a good woman who deserved to be happy. Since I was the only child, she and I were always close but since becoming an adult it's heightened.

  I giggled a little before heading in my room plopping down on the ruby red comforter spread across my bed. I didn’t even bother to turn the light on. Darkness had been my friend of late. It helped me think about the things I needed to
do with my life. Momma was right. I wasn’t getting any younger.

  “Baby,” Momma called out rushing down the stairs as a car horn honked outside. “I’m gone for the night. See you in the morning beautiful.”

  “Have fun momma. Love you,” I called back.

  “Love you too, sugar.”

  As soon as I heard the door slam downstairs, I anxiously reached into the white wooden nightstand next to my bed and pulled out the tiny bullet I had inside. It Fit in the palm of my hand and was so tiny and silver that it could have been mistaken for a battery. But what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in punch. I pressed the button on the bottom of it activating the strong vibrating sensation before opening my legs as wide as they would go.

  Pressing it against my clit, my body immediately went into overdrive. As I closed my eyes, I tried to vision myself with the perfect man but continuously came up with the chiseled chest of the dude next door. He was an asshole to women, only using them for one thing. But fuck it. I rubbed my perfect 38C big brown nipples anticipating the cum that was ready to burst from within me. I may have been a virgin but I stayed horny like a porn star. Who needed a man who would only dog you when I had the perfect erotic store waiting for me to buy a handful of these?

  Chapter 3

  Two nights later

  Quince

  “Why’d you do it, Steelo? Huh? I’ve been nothing but good to you. Haven’t I?” I growled through my teeth.

  “Quince, I would never do no shit like that to you man. You’re like a brother to me. I promise you. You’ve gotta believe me.” Steelo sat on the cold concrete floor

  “So how much was the deal for, Steelo? How much were you supposed to get for your cut,” I asked.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you talking about man, I swear,” he cried fixing his hands in a praying stance.

  My leg rose kicking the nigga dead in his mouth gushing blood out everywhere including my Gucci shoes. “Stop fucking lying.”

  “Quince, I wouldn’t do you like that playa. You know I wouldn’t. Come on man. How long have you known me and I ain’t never did no shit like that.” Steelo brought his head up displaying his face drenched in tears.

  “You came to me without a pot to piss in. Your wife was about to leave you and you were in debt like a motherfucka. I hooked you up with your own little spot. I put you on. And, what was the one thing I told you when I first put you on a few years ago, Steelo?”

  “Come on, Quince man—“

  “What was the one thing I told you motherfucka?” My voice echoed throughout the empty room.

  “Don’t fuck with you.”

  “That’s right. Don’t you dare fuck with me. Now look at you.” I stood back shaking my head at his graveling bleeding face.

  “Please don’t kill me man. I’ll do anything. I swear, I’ll do anything boi. Please just don’t kill me,” Steelo begged clapping his hands together.

  “Shut the fuck up. Take this shit like a man bitch,” I snarled looking him dead in his eyes. “Just so that you know, I don’t even want the little money you owed me from before neither. This right here, makes us even nigga.”

  With the quickness, I snatched my nine from it's tucked position behind me and pointed it at his head as he screamed my name continuously begging for his life. I planted two hollow points in his dome and as he hit the floor I plugged one in his heart. If that nigga wasn’t dead before he was for damn sure dead after that last slug. Fuck him. I operated under the ‘cancel that bitch and get me another one’ act. God made me ruthless. I’m just living the life he designated for me to live.

  Five minutes later, I was across the street heading back over to Creed watching the females shake their asses while the thirsty ass niggas tried to come up on some ‘one night stand’ ass. The doors had only been open a short year and three months but it was already beginning to look like a promising venture that I wanted to get back into. There were three bars on every side of the room with the DJ booth on the last side. The club's capacity only held about twenty thousand people but I was eager to expand when the time was right.

  Dancers hung from poles dancing only in bikinis. It was no strip joint though. It was a classy establishment that garnered the business of Puffy, Miley Cyrus, and Latoya Luckett whenever they made it to Chicago. Creed used to be my heart but like any other disloyal bitch, I had to cancel her ass. I sold my portion of the club back to the owner because my heart wasn’t in it anymore and neither was my money.

  It damn near drained me dry if I hadn’t pulled out in time a few months back. It was looked as if it would be a good business to get back into once the owner, Fetty, proved hex ould handle the finances better than before. Hell, I've even contemplated buying this place. I was no longer in charge yet whenever I came up there, the workers still thought I was running shit.

  “Hey boss man. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “What you need beautiful?” I responded.

  “Let me show you.” She grabbed my hand leading me back towards the VIP section as my phone rang. Once we got to the room and I placed my phone to my ear, shorty pinned me against the wall, dropped to her knees, and pulled my dick out with no hesitation.

  “Man, fuck the dumb shit. Get that shit over to them niggas and make sure it moves. Ya feel me?” I spat putting my hand on the back of shorty’s head guiding her motion back and forth on my dick. “Aye, I’ll hit you back.”

  I didn't even remember her name but I would probably remember the way that tongue felt forever. She sucked a nigga’s dick like she was sucking hard to get that motherfucka to pop. Shorty slobbered on my ten-inch dick as if it were a juicy melting Popsicle. My head bumped against the wall feeling my cum rise to the tip but I held it back for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth surrounding my shaft. She caved her cheeks in creating a black hole affect around my shit forcing me to skeet all in her mouth.

  "Swallow that shit," I ordered, pulling on her hair roughly tugging her head up towards the ceiling. "Let me see that shit."

  Shorty opened her mouth sticking her tongue out assuring me that every drop of them kids went down her throat. My fingers pinched her cheek letting her know she had done a good job as I pulled my True Religion jeans back around my waist buckling them securely. Shorty fixed her bra back around her perky double d's tucking away her milk dud sized nipples.

  "That shit was good as hell girl. You just might be the real MVP of that shit." I reached into my pocket pulling out a roll of cash removing the band and peeling out three hundred dollar bills to hand to her.

  "Thank you baby. But I'd much rather see you again. Is that possible?" She said tugging at her thong turning to show me the pretty round brown apple sitting just below her back.

  "We'll see. If I need you, I know where to find you." I winked my eye before giving her a playful slap on that ass.

  "I'll be looking forward to it boss. I mean Q." She headed towards the VIP door cracking it slightly letting the loud jeers and rap music to seep into the room. "By the way, Bunny is just my dancer name. My real name is Queenie. Queenie Hogan."

  She winked as she left the room. I didn't give a fuck about what she was saying. In my eyes, she was just another hired dancer working at my old club, a hype girl. Too many hoes wanted to get at me since a nigga looked good and kept mad dough and shit but none of them could be trusted. I only trusted two bitches, Thunder and Lightening, the two big brawny blue nose pits I had posted back at the crib.

  They guarded every house I moved into and my dough with their lives. Those bitches were trained to bite on contact when I wasn't there and barely barked when I wasn’t there. I watched them on my surveillance cameras every day. Real killers moved in silence. They knew no one entered their cage unless I told them too. The chicks lucky enough to suck this dick pretty much only got a couple of dollars here or there, maybe even a bag or two but as far as me making one of them hoes my wife they would be waiting for a lifetime for that shit.

  "Wh
at up, Montana? We good over there yet bro?" I asked placing my ear to the phone.

  “I just made it here, Quince. These niggas were low as fuck but they’re good now. I’m making a withdrawal though,” Montana spoke informing me in code that he was picking up the daily drop from one of the five territories that were low on our product.

  “Cool. Don’t forget to go to Chinatown to gas up the Escalade,” I responded back letting him know to take the money to So Ho Chinese where our Chinese connects helped us wash the money. “Handle your business.”

  “Now see that’s the shit I need to be doing,” Montana growled. “Giving orders.”

  “Yeah well, you’re not. Hold this shit down out here nigga. Let me handle the big boy shit right now.” I focused on remaining calm with him even though he irked the shit out of me sometimes. “In due time, we gon’ eat better my nigga. Just chill right now.”

  Montana was always hungry but he was too eager to sit at the same table I ate at. It was crazy cause we got about the same money but he wanted the same power as me too. He and I went to high school together. If I could trust no one to have my back, I knew I could trust him. Times were hard for two young black males growing up back then in the Englewood neighborhood on the Southside of Chicago. The ruthless side.

  We were only sixteen when we dropped out of high school, starting on the amateur edge of the business moving small quantities of weight just to get by. His pops had ran out on his mom and instead of her getting over him she got under a needle, shooting up every chance she got. I never knew my mom or pops. They left me with my grandma when I was just a baby. She raised me until I found her. That shit still fucked with me from time to time. That day changed my life in more ways than one.

  ****The Past****

  “Don’t forget your homework tomorrow. There will be no makeups because I’ve already given you all enough time to finish this project. Quince McCarter and Montana Black, that includes you two as well. Don’t come in here tomorrow acting like you didn’t here what I said,” Mrs. Jamison scoffed tilting her head down to gawk at us above her oval shaped glasses.