Each day that passed, Cartier thought she was finally over him. But the legal ramifications brought memories rushing to the surface. It was indifference on her part. Jason had treated her like shit, but he was a good provider. Did she really want her marriage to be over? The finality of the paperwork had scared her, and Jason was going to call her bluff. Cartier stuffed the papers into her pocketbook. She needed to speak to someone. She needed to talk to her mother. She called Trina.
"Ma, what are you doing?"
"I'm on the other line with Jason," Trina said.
"What? Why?" Cartier asked with shock in her voice.
"Hold on, Cartier, because he's making some accusations I need to address with you," Trina responded.
Trina clicked over and had Cartier on hold for close to five uncomfortable minutes, before she came back on the line.
"Hello, you still there?" Trina asked.
"Yeah, Ma, I'm here. Now what Jason talking about? Did he tell you that he's suing me for divorce and joint custody?"
Trina heard the panic in Cartier's voice. "He told me something more disturbing. What's going on with you and Monya?"
Cartier heard the suspicion in Trina's voice. "What do you mean?" Cartier said weakly. Her voice was telling as well. Her tone had raised an octave as her hands began to tremble.
"He said he's been hearing about some freaky shit going on with you and Monya, and I told him no fucking way. There's no way my daughter is a dyke!"
The mere word made her feel dirty. And worse, she had to hear the word from her mother. What was she doing with her life? Since day one, she'd made a series of bad decisions. How could she raise her daughter in the living environment with her and Monya?
"What? Where did he get that from?"
"He said it's the talk in the streets and he's heard it from more than one person. Cartier, he's upset and so am I. What are you and Monya doing under her roof? And why are you and her friends again, anyway? After everything she put you through. I don't trust her. I saw the pain in your eyes when she stopped coming to see you in jail. And I saw the pain in your eyes when you found out about her and Jason. And I saw the pain in your eyes when she gave birth to his son. How much more pain you gonna let her put you through? If Jason moves forward with the divorce and custody, you could lose everything, including my grandchild."
Trina was fearful for Cartier and didn't trust Monya as far as she could throw her. But she knew one thing, if Monya ever hurt her daughter again, she would personally give her a beat-down she wouldn't forget. And if Janet wanted to get in it, she could get it to. Trina figured she might be older, but she knew for a fact that she hadn't lost her ability to throw a solid punch.
"Ma, you know me better than that," Cartier began. "I did seven years in jail and ain't none of those bitches ever turned me. You think I'm gonna get out here on the street and flip the switch? Monya and I are just rediscovering our friendship. She's truly sorry for what she put me through," Cartier lied. She was glad she wasn't face-to-face with Trina. She knew her reaction and facial expression to Trina's allegations would have given her away.
"Well, that's what I told him, but he ain't hearing me"
"He's just mad, that's all," Cartier surmised.
While Cartier and Trina spoke, Cartier's cell phone began ringing. It was Bam. "Ma, let me call you back. It's Bam on the other line."
"Hey, Bam," Cartier sang. "What's up, girl?" Cartier was happy Bam rescued her from telling Trina more lies. Her stomach was churning and her heart was hurting from listening to Trina's possible disappointment in her.
"Shit. Listen, where you at?" Bam asked.
"I'm on the low over at Monya's, hiding from my baby daddy," Cartier joked. "Why? What's good?"
"Is Monya there with you?"
"Nah, she had to run a few errands"
"Good, because between me and you, I got something to ask you, but you got to promise not to tell Monya."
Cartier's heart dropped, but she made the promise.
"I got at least eight calls today asking me if you and Monya are swinging an episode," Bam stated.
"Why the fuck are people bugging?" Cartier screamed. "My moms' just told me the same thing. I mean, are people stupid or what? Where are they getting that from?"
"Well, as I said, you ain't heard this from me, but people are getting it from Monya," Bam replied. "That, coupled with you two being inseparable for the past couple months after being archenemies, is all they really needed."
"From Monya?" Cartier's pressure rose. "Why would Monya say something so stupid?"
"You tell me?"
"I don't fucking know. I'm not a fucking lesbian," Cartier screamed and Barn got nervous.
"Look, chill," Bam said. "I'm just passing information. Don't kill the messenger. All you need to do is talk to Monya and get your shit straight. That don't look good out here in the hood. You feel me?"
"Yeah, I feel you."
Cartier couldn't wait for Monya to come home and have it out with her lover. She couldn't understand why Monya would go around blabbing her big mouth about the two of them, unless it was to spite Jason. And she wasn't cool with that. How could Jason be history if Monya was still trying to throw mud in her face? Cartier was anxious when she heard the key in the door.
"Hey, babe," Monya sang.
Cartier wasted no time in getting right to the point. "Monya, I'm very upset."
"Why? What happened? Is it Jason?"
"No, it's you," Cartier corrected.
"Me?" Monya began. "What did I do?"
"You can't keep your mouth shut!" Cartier said upset.
"I'm insulted," Monya responded. "Why are you yelling at me?"
"Are you going around telling people that we're a couple?"
"Yeah, I told a few people-"
"What? Why would you do that? What's wrong with you!"
"I didn't know that we had anything to hide. We've been together now for months-"
"I can't believe this," Cartier yelled. She was humiliated. She physically wanted to vomit. "Who did you tell? I need to know."
Monya couldn't understand why Cartier was freaking out. They loved each other and she didn't think they needed to hide anything. She was happy with Cartier and felt Cartier was happy with her. In fact, she'd just told Jason only minutes ago. "Well, right before I came in, Jason called me and asked were the rumors true. When I told him they were, he asked if we would do a threesome with him. You know I cursed that little dick motherfucker out."
Cartier blinked a million times hoping she could blink away the reality of the situation. She didn't know if Monya was stupid or spiteful.
"I'm very upset right now," Cartier exclaimed. "You had no right to tell people that I'm a lesbian."
"But we are together," Monya reasoned.
"But I'm not a lesbian!" Cartier screamed like a crazy woman. "Look, Monya, I don't know what we're doing here, but this isn't permanent. You and I are only a temporary situation. We can't live like this forever and raise our kids."
"Cartier, I love you," Monya said. She was still holding the groceries she brought in and finally placed them down. "I thought you felt the same way."
"I do love you, Monya, but I'm not a lesbian. You need to understand that."
Now it was Monya's turn to yell and scream. "Stop labeling us! We are what we are and we shouldn't have to define it or apologize either. What are you afraid of? Rumors? Gossip? Who the fuck cares about those miserable motherfuckers? They should only wish that they had what we have."
"Monya, why did you have to tell people before speaking with me first?" Cartier sounded defeated. So many thoughts were running around in her head. From her mother, Trina, to her husband, Jason, to her friend, Bam, and all of Brooklyn, she thought she would be too embarrassed to face anyone, let alone explain her actions or new lifestyle.
"Look, I'm sorry. Don't be mad with me, but I've been so happy lately that I couldn't hold it in any longer." Monya softly touched Cartier's face. "I've fi
nally found someone who loves me and not just my pussy. All these years, men have used me like a slave. Fucking and sucking for a few dollars and a temporary companion. They all treated me like I wasn't shit. As if I wasn't worthy of a real relationship. They had me all wrong and didn't bother to get to know me. The real me. Cartier, I love you because you love my flaws and all. I was wrong and I made a mistake. If you care about what people think, then let's move away. Leave all this bullshit behind. We don't need these twofaced miserable people"
"Leave and go where?" Cartier asked. She was spent.
"I don't know. We could go to North Carolina or Atlanta and buy a house. We could get jobs and make new friends and start a new life," Monya stated emphatically. "Let's just leave the baggage behind."
"A house, huh? With what money? Maybe I can just call up Jason and ask for thirty grand to put a deposit on a house. I'm sure he'd love to give it to me." Cartier's comment dripped with facetiousness and defeat. She didn't know if she was coming or going.
"Fuck Jason," Monya spat. "I keep telling you we don't need that motherfucker! I got connections. I still got my Cartel connections. I could make a couple more runs and come up with at least fifty large:"
"Are you crazy?"
"What's the problem?"
"You can't go back out there hustling. It's too dangerous and totally not worth it. You have your son to think about. Don't think about me, because I'm not worth it either."
"But I don't want you to leave me," Monya said. Her voice was trembling and bursting with fear. "I love you, Cartier. Please don't leave me."
Cartier and Monya made love that night. Cartier brought the heat, as passionate as they had ever been together.
The next morning, Cartier got up and prepared to leave Monya for good.
ason had moved on as much as he could. He missed Cartier and Christian. For him, it was hard to think about one without thinking about the other. But at night, and even in the morning when he rolled out of bed, it was Cartier that was on his mind. He had just stepped out of the shower and looked around the bedroom. He didn't like what he saw. The house was in shambles. Panties, bras, boxers, socks, jeans, and boots cluttered his world. And worse than the bedroom, the bathroom and kitchen were both filthy as hell. He hated this shit and that was an understatement.
He was pissed at himself, but who could he tell? His road dog, Wonderful, was tired of him complaining about this and that. Wonderful wanted him to handle his business-either break down and get Cartier and his seed back or make a go of it with Pinky, his new live-in girlfriend, who didn't measure up to Cartier.
And that was the problem for Jason. Pinky didn't measure up. In bed, she was all that. She sucked his dick like a champ, including swallowing every damn drop of his nut, and fucked him as if he had the best dick in the world. But she was a trifling, lazy-ass bitch. When he let her move in, he didn't know she was that damn nasty. Taking a shower after sex was a must for him, but she refused to do that.
Jason missed Cartier. She kept a clean house and kept shit in order. He had no worries with Cartier. Even with all the junk he did, he never had to worry about another brotha invading his territory. He wished he could say the same thing about another woman, Monya in particular.
It wasn't cool in the streets for another bitch to take your woman. He heard the whispers and knew the fairy tales about a woman taking your woman meant you weren't hitting it right or didn't have her talking in tongues. It was embarrassing, but he didn't give a damn. Every day, he hoped Cartier would be walking through the front door, saying I'm home.
"You not going to get in the shower?" Jason asked loud enough to wake Pinky up from her deep sleep.
Pinky struggled to focus on her surroundings. She was still getting used to her bearings, waking up in Jason's house and not her mother's.
Her dry, pasty lips were practically sticking together. She almost had to pry them open to speak. Yawning and stretching at the same time, she finally spoke.
"You talking to me?" she giggled.
He looked at her and thought, What a complete fucking idiot. He was tired of her dumbass and equally tired of all the damn giggling. He snapped, "Who the fuck else would I be talking to?"
"Why you gotta be yelling? I can hear you"
Jason was spent. He didn't even know why he bothered.
"I said are you getting in the shower?" Jason said irritated.
"Why? We going somewhere?" Pinky stood and was still naked.
"Is that the only reason you'd get in the shower?"Jason asked. He couldn't understand how she could allow herself as a female to be so nasty. He had to practically threaten her to wash her ass like she was a child. Not allowing her to answer, he continued. "OK, then. Yeah, we going in the living room so you could clean the fuck up, so jump your funky ass in the shower and I'm not going to tell you twice!"
His voice had risen from monotone to the brink of screaming. Startled, Pinky began to cry.
"I just worked my ass off sucking your dick in here earlier. Why I gotta clean up? I'm tired. You know you could help clean up around here some times. I'm not your maid. Shit, you don't pay me enough to be fucking you and cleaning up."
Jason looked at the pitiful sight incredulously. What had he gotten himself into? She was a lazy, ignorant air head who sat around drinking and eating up his food all day. She didn't work nor was her ass going to college as she had so adamantly professed in the beginning of their relationship. His mind fast-forwarded ten years from now when her body wouldn't be as tight and her pussy wouldn't be so wet, and got turned off. There wasn't any way he was going to get caught out there. They didn't have any attachments and her tears weren't going to save her.
"Are you retarded?" he asked. He honestly thought that she could be a little touched.
"I'm very smart," she rebutted.
Before he could reply, his cell phone rang and the number didn't look familiar, but he answered it anyway. Any distraction was welcomed.
"Hello," he barked.
"Jason? What's wrong?" Cartier asked.
"Who's this?"
There was a pregnant pause, "Your wife...
"I see you got the papers," he facetiously asked.
"Yes, I got them," she responded. And we need to talk."
"Talk about what?"
"Us?.
Jason's heart began to palpitate. He looked at Pinky, who was still waiting to finish their argument. "What about us?" he said to Cartier.
"I want to come home," she pleaded.
Jason could hear something in her voice. He didn't know if it was love or desperation. Again, Jason looked at Pinky, who now suspected he was talking to a female.
"Who's that on the phone?" Pinky's voice was loud enough to be heard through the phone.
"You there with a bitch?" Cartier asked quickly.
As both women slung questions at Jason, his mind raced to handle both women. His heart melted when he heard Cartier state that she wanted to come home. He wanted nothing more.
"Yeah, I got a little situation," Jason said to Cartier. "Not anything that can't be handled."
"Well, you better handle that situation before I come over there and handle it for you. Please don't make me catch a case over some bullshit! You better kick that whore out now!"
Cartier was back on her gangsta. She was like a lioness protecting her territory and Jason liked every minute of it. Of course, he'd never let Cartier get her hands on Pinky. She'd rip Pinky's fragile ass into pieces and Jason didn't want that. He just wanted her out.
He was tempted to tell Cartier to back the fuck down, since she had been licking and bumping pussy with Monya, but he let that pass. He missed his lady and he wanted her back. He knew it would be nice to have Cartier and Christian back where they belonged.
"You got it, ma," was his reply to Cartier. "I'll get that taken care of-"
"Oh, you are talking to a bitch!" Pinky yelled as her nostrils flared. She bent down and tossed one of her stilettos at Jason's head. Luckily,
he ducked just in time. "You disrespectful motherfucker!"
Jason dropped the phone.
"Yo, what the fuck is your problem?"Jason shouted. "You lucky I don't hit females, because I would have busted your shit open. I'm talking to my wife!"
"Fuck that bitch!" Pinky shouted back. "She don't mean nothing to me! She fucking left you and now I'm supposed to respect her. Where was she when we were fucking earlier? Huh? Riddle me that, motherfucker." Pinky was livid. How dare Jason scream on her to impress his wife. She'd never been so humiliated in her life. It was bad enough that he wouldn't get rid of his wife's clothes that still hung in the closet, or destroy her pictures. She wasn't even cute to Pinky. "Her ugly ass!"
Pinky walked over toward Jason and dashed toward the dropped phone. He tried to get to it before she did, but her agile body and youth beat him to the punch.
"Give me the phone," he yelled.
"Hello, who's this?" Pinky asked.
"Bitch, you already know who this is," Cartier snapped back. "This is his wife!"
"He don't want your ugly ass!"
Jason thought about wrestling the phone from Pinky, but decided Cartier could take care of herself.
"Let me say this to you clearly," Cartier began. "It will take me approximately thirty-seven minutes to get over there from where I am. I'm walking toward mycar as we speak. Itwill take me approximately eight minutes to beat you down to a pulp. When I get there, I promise you that I will stomp your teeth out of your mouth and rip each strand of hair dangling on your head. You won't be able to see out of both eyes and will be unrecognizable to all your family and friends for weeks. Now ask yourself if fucking with my husband is worth it. If it is, then great. Have your sneakers laced up tightly and your fighting gear on. If not, then you have about thirty-four minutes to vacate the premises."
The phone clicked and Pinky held onto it for a few seconds longer, trying to think what she really wanted to do. Was she really ready for battle? She had heard about Cartier and knew she used to be a vicious bitch. And she sounded like she was still just as vicious. She would be stupid to still be there when Cartier arrived. But she had to leave with dignity. She began to front for her one-man audience. She refused to go out like a punk. "Bitch, fuck you. Don't nobody want this fucking loser. I got so many men I can't count. You can have him!" Pinky tossed the phone and began to run around frantically grabbing her clothes and shoes in an effort to leave before Cartier showed up.
Cartier Cartel Page 20