Cartier Cartel, Part 3

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Cartier Cartel, Part 3 Page 22

by Nisa Santiago


  Cartier watched the vehicle like a hawk. The driver and passenger doors opened up, and two figures stepped out, one man and one woman. They were all smiles and laughing. Cartier frowned at the dead man walking. He was tall and handsome with dark curly hair and a thick goatee. His black slacks and silk gray shirt hugged his physically fit body. He had a power about him as he walked with a leggy, blonde bitch wearing a microfiber contrast halter dress. She was bubbly and flirtatious.

  Luis wrapped his arm around her slim waist and then slid his hand down to her protruding backside and squeezed her butt gently. They headed toward the building.

  Cartier cocked back her pistol and rushed out the car. Her family was dead and he had the audacity to be laughing and having a good time. Like her daughter and her family was some measly insects that you squash on the wall and don’t thinking nothing about it.

  “Cartier, wait!” Quinn called out.

  “I’ma kill this bastard.”

  There was no talking her out of it.

  Cartier strutted in her heels with the gun by her side and her eyes fixated on Luis Juarez. He wouldn’t even see it coming.

  Quinn rushed out the car too. She had a 9mm and her bag in her hands and moved behind Cartier.

  Luis walked into the building and got on the elevator with his beautiful date. Cartier and Quinn were right behind him. But they were too late. The elevator had already ascended. Cartier couldn’t miss her shot.

  “What floor? What fuckin’ apartment, Quinn?” Cartier shouted.

  “He’s on twelve.”

  Cartier pushed for the call button to the lift. She was becoming impatient. She was itching to murder this muthafucka. Her face was twisted into an ugly scowl, and she couldn’t stop her hand from trembling.

  When the doors finally opened, Cartier damn near leaped inside and rapidly pushed for twelve. She took a deep breath.

  “How we gonna do this?” Quinn asked.

  Cartier had no idea. It was one of those spontaneous fuck-it moments. But she refused to let this opening fade from her.

  As the elevator was coming to their floor, Quinn removed the silencer from her bag and started to twist on the silencer to her 9mm. She said to Cartier, “Stop bein’ so fuckin’ impulsive an’ think rational. You shoot that off in this building, wit’ these hallways n’ it’s gonna let out a loud noise. And, bad enough, we on like twenty fuckin’ security cameras. But I’ma handle that.”

  Cartier wasn’t really listening. The only thing she had on her mind was Luis. The doors opened, and they stepped out into the carpeted hallway.

  “Apartment 1208,” Quinn said.

  Cartier stormed toward that way. Once again, she was back into the life of killing.

  They approached Apartment 1208. It seemed quiet on the other side of the door. Quinn and Cartier looked at each other. It was now or never.

  Cartier knocked, while Quinn stayed out of view. She waited for him to respond. She stood at Luis’ door looking like a pinup diva, her legs gleaming, cleavage showing, and a seductive smile on her lips. She didn’t know how this would go, but she had to take this chance. He was alone with company and no muscle around him.

  “Who the fuck is it?” she heard him shout without opening the door.

  It was a tense moment. Both girls knew Luis Juarez was just as dangerous as they were. One mistake could cost them their lives.

  Cartier had to come up with something believable for him to open his door. “You called for an escort, right?” Cartier replied. “I’m Xena.”

  “What?”

  “I’m from Midnight Escort Service.”

  “I ain’t call for no fuckin’ escort service.”

  “Well, somebody did. Got this address and apartment number, and I ain’t leaving until this shit gets figured out. I’m out of twenty-five dollars for cab fare here,” Cartier said convincingly.

  The door swung open, and Luis, gripping a .45, glared at Cartier. He was shirtless, showing off the ripples in his stomach. But one look at her and he went, “Damn!”

  “Hey, baby. You sure you ain’t call for a date? ’Cuz, as fine as you are, I can give you a discount.”

  “I ain’t ever paid for pussy in my life —”

  Before Luis could finish his sentence, Quinn sprang into his view with the pistol aimed at him and fired. Poot!

  The bullet tore though his kneecap, and Luis dropped back, staggering. He tried to raise his gun to fire back, but Quinn hit him again in the second kneecap, and he was completely crippled.

  “Fuckin’ bitch!” he screamed.

  The blonde bimbo in the room screamed out, but Quinn silenced her up with a gunshot through her skull. She crashed against the couch and lay slumped over.

  Cartier shut the door behind her. It was time for the fun to begin.

  The girls moved together like lightning. Luis didn’t even know what hit him.

  “You know who the fuck I am?” he shouted.

  Cartier glared at him. She so badly wanted to shove the heel of her shoe into his skull and twist, but she needed him alive for the moment. She needed information.

  They stood over him and watched him squirm in agony. He clutched his knees and was bleeding profusely.

  “Who the fuck sent you?” Cartier shouted.

  “Fuck you, bitch!”

  Quinn shot him again in the leg.

  Luis screamed, and Cartier turned up the stereo in the room to drown him out.

  “We can do this all day.” Quinn aimed the pistol at his dick.

  Luis looked horrified. “No, just relax . . . relax!”

  “I wanna know — who else was involved wit’ my family’s murder? I want fuckin’ names and locations,” Cartier stated.

  “You kill my two nieces in New York and talk this shit about retribution! How does it feel, Cartier, to lose someone you loved dearly?” Luis taunted.

  Quinn fired.

  Poot! The bullet ripped through his inner thigh.

  Luis screamed again. He wriggled against the floor in pain. It was obvious that these bitches weren’t playing around with him. He breathed harder and felt weak, feeling the blood leaving his body.

  “Who fuckin’ else?” Cartier screamed. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she thought about her daughter. The things they probably did to her. She knew her baby was scared.

  Quinn stepped closer to him and crouched down. She put the tip of the silencer to his balls and ground the barrel it into his genitals.

  Luis groaned, helpless and in pain.

  Quinn told him, “Tell her what she needs to hear, and I promise to make the pain go away. Or else I’ll become a surgeon in this muthafucka. An’ I ain’t got stable fuckin’ hands.”

  “Talk to me!” Cartier screamed.

  “How’s Janet doing these days?” Luis taunted, looking up at Cartier.

  Quinn fired. Poot! This time the shot nicked his nut sack.

  “You think we fuckin’ playin’ wit’ you!” Quinn shouted.

  The pain was excruciating. “Okay, okay!” Luis cried out.

  Cartier was ready to hear what he had to say.

  “Janet slowly lost her mind over her daughter,” he said. “She always felt you were the reason behind her daughter’s death. You and your mother run off to Miami, my city, with a fortune, and leave her out in the cold. I just took advantage of that bitch, made her feel loved, dicked her down when I got out of Sing Sing. Bitch was weak. She gave you up for greed, bitch. But when she found out what we did to your family, she tripped out over that shit and didn’t know what our true intentions were. We lied to her, promised not to harm your mother or anyone else. We played you, bitch. I just wanted to fuck with your head and take from you what you did to me with Jalissa and Marisol. You were supposed to drop the second ransom off, and your daughter wasn’t supposed to be found not at all, but someone fucked up. And what you was listening to was only a recording of your daughter’s voice — that bitch been dead.”

  Cartier was in
full-blown tears. She wanted to fall out in grief from what she was hearing. But she held herself steady. “Who else was involved?”

  “You ready to war with the Gonzalez Cartel? Because this doesn’t fuckin’ end with me, you dumb bitch!”

  Cartier stared angrily at him. Her heart felt like it was about to rip from her chest. She snatched the gun from Quinn’s hands, and shouted, “Fuck you!”

  Luis looked up at impending death and smirked.

  Cartier fired five shots into him. Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! She stood over Luis Juarez with the smoking gun in her hand and frowned.

  “There ain’t no turning back now, Cartier,” Quinn said.

  Cartier didn’t plan to turn back. She was ready to root herself into the pits of hell. She had nothing else to lose. Her soul had been ruptured from her body, and her heart grew ice-cold. The only thing left to immerse herself into was the underworld of Miami. But she still wanted to meet with Hector. He was still part of her plan.

  Quinn made a phone call and informed someone of their situation. She needed a cleaner. Things had gotten sloppy, and Luis Juarez and his female friend needed to vanish. And the security footage of them entering the building and elsewhere had to be destroyed. It was the only thing that linked them to the crime.

  Cartier got back into Quinn’s Ferrari. She shut the door, leaned back and released a heavy sigh. It finally felt like a huge burden was lifted from her shoulders. She got one of those muthafuckas. She was finally able to deal out some street justice for her family, and it was somewhat refreshing. Luis Juarez had died in agony, and it was somewhat satisfying.

  She was ready to let the Gonzalez Cartel and everyone associated with them know that they fucked with the wrong bitch. Miami was home now, like she planned it to be when she’d moved her family down a few months ago, thinking she was going to retire from the game, when somehow destiny or doom pulled her back in.

  And her next time out of the game was probably in a box. But she would postpone that fate as long as she could.

  Chapter 30

  Cartier slept for hours in the king-size bed. It was morning, but the room was dark with the shades drawn. It was the first decent sleep she’d had in weeks. Killing that fool Luis relieved her of a lot of stress, but it only took away a fraction of her problems. Now she had to worry about retaliation from not just the Gonzalez Cartel, but the other fools she’d wronged in Miami. Her enemies were in droves, and without the right protection, she was already dead.

  She decided to crash at Quinn’s new place in downtown Miami, a three-bedroom suite in a luxurious fifteen-story complex. Like the Jefferson’s, she was moving on up. From every room she had a breathtaking view of South Beach, the beaches, and the deep blue sea, which stretched endlessly. It was a slice of heaven for the moment.

  Cartier woke up to the afternoon sun trying to infiltrate its way through the shades. She stirred around the bed naked for a moment, stretching, and then realized she wasn’t alone.

  “Oh shit!” Cartier hollered.

  Unsmiling and cool, Hector and Tumble were standing at the edge of the bed looking at her.

  Cartier quickly covered her breasts with the sheet and jumped back against the headboard. She had never been so startled. “What the fuck are you doin’ in here, Hector?” she screamed out.

  “Hurry up and get dressed then meet me in the next room,” Hector said in a civil tone.

  He and Tumble made their exit, leaving her confused and worried at the same time. She tossed the sheets off her and jumped out the bed. She slammed the bedroom door shut and took a deep breath. She wanted to meet with Hector, but not like this. It was so sudden and scary for her.

  Cartier stepped back into the same dress she’d worn the night before, gathered her things, and met with Hector in the living room. He was seated and waiting patiently, while Tumble stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows gazing at a bright and sunny Miami.

  “Nice view,” Tumble said.

  “Where’s Quinn?”

  “She’s not here for the moment,” Hector replied.

  “What’s goin’ on here?”

  “I need you to come and take a ride wit’ me,” he suggested.

  Hector stood up and smoothed the small wrinkles in his jacket. He looked suave in his custom-tailored, dark gray pinstripe Armani suit and wing-tip alligator shoes.

  Cartier looked at him. He was handsome and dapper. A gangster and a gentleman he appeared to be. “Where are you takin’ me?” she asked.

  “Just shut up and ride with us,” he said, a little stern.

  Cartier didn’t have a choice. She was alone and had no idea where Quinn was. She felt Hector might have done something terrible to his own sister.

  Hector started toward the door, and Tumble was right behind him.

  Cartier lingered in the living room for a short moment but decided to walk out too. They took the elevator silently down to the lobby and exited into the street. Cartier tried to remain calm, but the thought of karma coming back to fuck her up was milling inside her head.

  Hector walked toward a white stretch limousine parked outside. The chauffeur jumped out and hurried to open the door, and he and Tumble climbed inside. Cartier was right behind them.

  She sat against the plush black leather silently, while Hector lit a cigar and exchanged words with Tumble.

  They rode through downtown Miami for a while. Hector was on the phone discussing business.

  Tumble couldn’t keep his eyes off Cartier. He was truly creeping her out.

  Cartier sighed and rolled her eyes.

  While Hector was discussing business on his cell phone, he looked at Cartier and smiled.

  When the limo pulled to the side and stopped at the curb. Hector looked at Tumble and nodded. “Take care of that for me, Tumble.”

  “I got you,” Tumble replied. He climbed out the limo and shut the door, leaving Cartier alone with Hector.

  The limo pulled away from the curb, and silence overcame them again. She gazed out the window, a feeling of trepidation swimming inside of her. She remained cool and aloof.

  Finally, Hector ended his conversation and focused his attention on Cartier. “Heard you was lookin’ for me,” he said.

  “I was.”

  “In actuality, I should be the one lookin’ for you. You and my sister caused some shit in this city . . . a lot of lives and money lost because of y’all bitches. You think I wouldn’t fuckin’ find out ’bout y’all?” Hector barked.

  “They took everythin’ from me, Hector.”

  “And? You fucked up, an’ you fucked up huge. You shoulda came to me from the start. Now wit’ this shit wit’ the Miami Gotti Boys and now the Gonzalez Cartel, I’m ready to throw you to the fuckin’ wolves.”

  “And then what?” she retorted boldly.

  “I’ll tell you what. How ’bout I watch them cut you into little pieces an’ throw your pretty ass in the sea? That’s then what.”

  “You think I’m afraid to die?” she said, defiantly.

  “Stop thinking you’re a tough guy, Cartier. You was just sleepin’ like a baby up in that room. That wasn’t the sleep of someone ready for it to all end.”

  Cartier couldn’t argue with his logic, so she switched gears. “If you’ve already made up your mind to toss me to the wolves, then there isn’t anything I can say to change that. But I will say that I can be a better asset to you alive than dead.”

  “And how the fuck is that, Cartier?”

  “I’ll be indebted to you. I’m smart and ruthless, and I have nothin’ left. My family’s dead, and New York is now a memory for me. All I have is this rage inside of me. Take advantage of it, Hector. Let me come up under you, become a member of ya crew, and I’ll never let you down,” she pleaded softly.

  Hector chuckled. “You, become a fuckin’ member?”

  “Why not? Look at what I’m capable of.”

  “And then I’ll have the Gonzalez Cartel gunning for my peoples too ’cuz of you.”
r />   “Look at you, Hector. You’re a damn king of this city. We can make your enemies tremble when we get done wit’ them.”

  She moved closer to Hector and placed her hand on his lap. She looked at him, her eyes revealing her availability to him. Her touch against him became enticing. “I can be yours, however you want me.”

  Hector gazed back. His expression showed that he was pondering the idea. The cards were in his hands. If he wanted, he could kill her right now and discard her body like she was yesterday’s trash.

  Cartier kept her cool and remained adamant. She refused to have any man see her sweat.

  “You talk that shit, but your mouth might bite off more than you can chew. This isn’t New York. Down here, I run shit. A snap of my fingers, an’ I can have you floating in the Atlantic.”

  “I know that.” Cartier continued her touch against him, and he wasn’t stopping it.

  Hector glared at her. He really didn’t want to just kill her and throw away. Everything about her was stunning, and he yearned for more and more. There was something about Cartier that he just had to have. And even though he was angry with her, he knew she was right — she would be more of an asset to him alive.

  “Everybody contributes to the organization.”

  “And what do you want me to contribute?”

  “Loyalty,” he responded with a cocksure smile.

  Cartier nodded.

  He leaned toward her. Now his hand was massaging her thigh. He fixed his eyes on her curvy body in the paisley halter minidress and adjusted himself into the plush leather. “Take off that dress.”

  There was no fighting it now. Cartier was ready to go all the way with him. This was the inevitable.

  She slowly lowered the straps to her dress and sensuously came out of it, her body beaming with perfection. Her eyes were deep and dark and had seen a lot of pain. But her sensual lips were full and made for kissing. Her hips and booty round and succulent, her pussy shaved, she was a beautiful black woman.

  Hector wanted to devour her immediately. He leaned in close and kissed her. Her lips tasted like strawberries. His male instincts took over, and his hands started to tour her body, from her tits to her naked hips. He touched her softly. He became intoxicated with her full lips and soft tongue swimming inside his mouth. He cradled the back of her head and marveled at how soft her hair was. Hector’s hand roamed freely over her curves. He gently caressed her slim waist and sexy bottom.

 

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