Cartel Dreams: A Love Story

by Nicety

  “Yes ma’am,” we replied in unison eager to race out the door before she tried to call us out on something else.

  “Man, it’s too hot for this shit. It’s the first week of June and school will be out in a few weeks and she’s still riding our ass about homework.” Montana shoved the large school front door open pushing the vertical press to open it.

  “Yeah, she’s trippin’ for real. I ain’t even gon’ lie. I ain’t trying to do that shit. What’s the least she can give us for an overall grade? The final grades were put in last week already. She just wants to fuck with us with this busy work shit,” I countered stopping to bend over and tie my dingy all white Nikes.

  Montana and I met at the beginning of the year when we got in the same homeroom together. Instantly we just clicked. We thought the same way and cracked jokes like class clowns do. Soon we became virtually inseparable. We related to each other in so many ways, including the fact that we were both poor as shit and couldn’t afford all of the latest clothes and shoes all the other kids did.

  We shared everything no matter if it was only a little, we broke bread like we were brothers. But we didn’t take no shit from others about our poverty though. When one person got out of pocket, we both wrecked shop to bust their ass for it. He was my right hand man and I was his no doubt.

  “Fuck that shit, bro. You wanna come back to my place and play ball. We can make a hoop with the crate in the basement.” Montana slapped my back as we headed down the street.

  “Yeah, but I’ve gotta check in with Betty and shit. You know how it goes.”

  “Cool, cool,” he said following me down the street towards my grandma’s house.

  Montana lived four blocks up from me but I lived right around the corner from the school, Harper High, on 65th and Honore. It wasn’t the best neighborhood but it was our hood. Everyday after school the hustlers would be on the corner serving their product and flashing their gold chains, tricked out Chevys, and fresh clothes. We envied them and their lifestyle. They had all the women on their jock.

  Montana and I weren’t half stepping on the looks either. I was brown skinned and Montana was just two shades darker. We were just growing in peach fuzz on our faces developing our goatees and beards. Our tall athletic physiques coupled with our dark brown eyes, one would think all the females would be on us like white on rice but they weren’t. Most of them were superficial hoes that only wanted men who looked like they had one thing, money. We didn’t have much of shit.

  “Shit, bro. I wish we could get with they ass and work for them. Then we’d have all the big booty hoes.” Montana gazed over at them almost hateful that he wasn’t getting money with them.

  “Eh, them niggas ain’t doing shit. They think they are but they’re just being stupid.” I waved them off as we turned the corner hitting my block. "I don't wanna be like them. I wanna be better."

  We walked up to my grandma’s two flat home. I turned the key and we headed inside. Montana plopped down on the couch as usual while I searched the home for her. It was so silent you could hear a pen drop. The air was thick and smoldering. I thought I would choke as I skipped every other stair on my way up stairs calling her name continuously. There was no response.

  As soon as I hit her bedroom and pushed the door open, I found her. She was lying there on her bed with her hands folded in front of her, fingers interlocked. She was asleep. I headed over towards her noticing that a few things from her dresser were knocked on the floor. Something felt out of place but I neared her with the hopes of waking her to find out what happened.

  “Grams.” I nudged her a bit harder the second time. “Grams, you aight?”

  She lay still and when I touched her hands that were pressed firmly against her stomach they were cold as ice. Grams was dead and it seemed as if she may have gone peacefully in her sleep. Her eyes were closed and her face adorned a slight calmness, almost a sly grin like she knew where she was going and was happy to be done with the struggle of life. I turned headed back downstairs in a zombie like state staring off into space.

  “What’s wrong with you, joe?” Montana asked fiddling with the playing cards on the old beat up wooden coffee table.

  “My…my Grams is dead yo.” My lips fell numb as I muttered the words.

  “Huh? Man quit playing,” Montana paused searching for the severity of the situation on my face. “You serious?”

  “Yeah man. I just found her upstairs on her bed. She’s gone.” I couldn’t move.

  “Awe damn g. I’m sorry to hear that shit. Shit, you gotta call the ambulance and get her out of here bro.” He stood tapping my shoulder sympathetically before handing me the phone from the end table.

  I untangled the cord and dialed 911 reluctantly. Within minutes there were police officers and paramedics flooding the scene. The neighbors had all gathered around outside trying to see what was all going on at the house. The police asked me all kinds of questions. What was Grams doing all day? How old she was? Did she have any life insurance? Did I have any place I could stay? They grilled me for hours, until nightfall.

  I didn’t know shit. I was sixteen years old and no way of knowing any of that shit because Grams never told me any of it. She was seventy years old and not once did we ever talk about life insurance or what I would do if she had ever left me. She was all I had, the only woman who never failed me. My heart was slowly peeling away spewing blood in the process now that she was gone. She was the only woman I had ever truly loved.

  “Aye bro, you can always come and stay with me. You know, just until this whole thing blows over.” Montana wrapped his arm around my neck.

  “Naw, I’m gonna chill here. If they want me out, they’ll have to put me out. Fuck that shit. This is the only home I know. I’m gonna find a way to make it.” I fought tears back as I sat down on the porch turning in the direction of the crowd.

  Those gangstas were still posted on the corner talking shit loudly and rubbing on chicks’ asses. Almost immediately I began to come up with a plan for my future. It was something that I had been contemplating for a long time but didn’t get the push to do so until now. I knew a regular bullshit ass fast food job at my age wouldn’t be able to help me live until I was able to figure out what to do with my life.

  Naw, I knew a way that I would at least be able to get money fast and not worry about shit. I took one look back at Montana and he knew exactly what I was thinking. No words were spoken as he followed me up to the crowd. I wasn’t the least bit scared even though my palms were sweaty as fuck.

  “Yo Duck. Can I holla at you for a minute bro?”

  Everyone knew who he was so his name was no secret. Still the stud eyed me like I was automatically his enemy. The weighty gold rope around his neck swayed as he backed up off of the canary yellow Chevy he was leaning against. The rest of him was very basic. A white tank top, jeans with his black gun handle sticking out the rim of them, and fresh all white shell toe Adidas on his feet.

  His hair was dreaded low like he was just starting them and he had a huge gash on his brown skinned face running from his left ear to the bottom of his chin as if he had crossed the wrong motherfucka. Whoever cut his ass was the nigga I needed to fuck with. Until then, I spoke to him to get what I wanted.

  “What you need, younsta?” He asked gritting his teeth in an attempt to spook me.

  “Man, look I’m…we’re here to talk business. We’re trying to be down. We’re trying to go to work.” I poked my chest out and held my head up staring him dead in the eye. I meant business.

  “Hell naw,” Duck laughed pointing to us as the other two guys he was with laughed with him. “Bro, look at y’all busta ass niggas. What makes you think you can do this shit here boy?”

  “I know we can do it. Probably do it better than you.”

  The crowd gasped in unison searching Duck’s face for his expression. His smile went from smiling to solemn in a millisecond. It was cool. I was ready to battle the nigga if I had to prove myself. I was prepared
to show him that I wasn’t scared and wasn’t backing down to anyone. Duck shot his eye over to Montana then back over to me sizing us up. He moved closer to me but I refused to move or flinch.

  “So you ready to get down, huh youngsta?” He sucked his teeth.

  “Hell yeah. We tryin’ to get paid,” I responded stuffing my hands in my pockets.

  “Well I ain’t got no room on my squad right now. These are all the niggas I need. So I don’t know what to tell you boy.” Duck leaned back against the car and grabbed the fat booty chick standing next to him pulling her close.

  “Come on, Quince. Let’s go, g.” Montana slapped my chest as he turned around to walk off.

  “Naw, I ain’t going no where until this nigga put us on. I ain’t got shit else to lose. So it’s either this shit or death.” I snatched the gun from his waist and aimed it at his boys.

  “Aye, what the fuck you think you doing?” Duck barked. “Boy you tryin’ to die today?”

  “Nope, I’m just trying to get on and if it’s gonna cost one of them their lives then so be it.” Sweat formed slowly on my forehead as I licked my dry hungry lips. “What’s good? You gon’ put us on or not?”

  Duck studied my eyes for a long time before turning to his boys. His growing smile turned into a cackling laugh before he moved towards me whispering in my ear. Everyone looked wondering what the fuck he had told me. I didn’t know shit about guns but what I read in books. I had never held one in my hand before let alone shot one off. My fingers moved releasing the safety before pulling the trigger dropping one of his boys with a slug right to the chest.

  “Yeah. Now that’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” Duck cheered. “That nigga was a thief and shyster anyway. Fuck that bitch.”

  I lowered the gun before he snatched it from me. I hadn’t even noticed the screaming people that had scattered away in fear. To my left Montana stood in silence and shock staring at the dead body slowly growing cold on the concrete. Duck signaled for us to jump in his car to go. As we did his other guy jumped in the passenger seat. We left the dude there and drove on screeching the tires as we sped off. I felt like the shit. I felt like the man and I was ready to put in work.

  ****

  By the time we were eighteen, I had moved so much weight in a short amount of time that big niggas started to take notice. I hadn’t even started this shit for that kind of recognition. It was only to get paper and be able to live. Now at almost twenty-four years old, not much had changed in our looks but our money sure got long as fuck.

  I moved weight like a freight train. Montana and I initially started serving because we needed to put more food on the table. But once we got in bed with Mata Amigos, Spanish for friend killer and the leader of the Mexican Cartel, our connect and Duck’s boss, we knew we would be so much more than just some ordinary low level drug dealers.

  Mata Amigos dismissed Duck of his duties in the form of a machete to the face sending the message that his services were no longer needed. There wasn’t much of a rebuttal since his mother was burying him sex feet deep that following week. Mata felt Duck was disloyal anyway.

  The man was so fucking merciless that he always said he would slit his own throat before he went back to jail. He was the type of nigga that would chop up his enemy’s kid in front of him then set him free just so he could live with that image for the rest of his life.

  When we began working with him, he told Montana that he didn’t need to speak to both of us, only one. He didn’t like talking business with too many people. That left me in charge running the entire Englewood set by myself. At first it seemed as though Montana might have been a little jealous of me since we started this shit together. But he never showed it and fell in line knowing he wanted to make this money.

  Montana was my right hand man, a hundred grand. If he ate, I ate and vice versa. We made moves but kept our shit tight and we owned five territories throughout the city. Our game was like none other if I did say so myself. I broke up out of my daze long enough to see the traffic piling up on the Stevenson Expressway.

  I might have been happy with my life if it weren't for the fact that Mata Amigos was beating us out when it came to copping the weight. He started fucking us on the prices making it harder and harder for us to make a decent share of the profit. His loyalty was fading and so was our alliance. I felt like the only person I had left to trust was Montana.

  Chapter 4

  Daisy

  The warm summer breeze graced my skin as I stepped out on the porch. I smiled taking a deep breath enjoying the June air mixed with the sweet aroma of barbeque. Secretly my lips salivated as my mouth watered wondering where the smell was coming from. There was food in the fridge but I wasn’t in the mood to slave over a steaming hot stove due to the ninety-degree weather. Besides, even if I wanted to, I had no idea how to barbecue on the grill. I fixed my purple boy shorts pulling them down before I took a seat on the hot concrete steps when Embry came strutting up the street.

  “Aye shorty. Let me holla at you for a minute,” some thirsty nigga called after as she rolled her eyes continuing to switch on. “Well fuck you then. You ain’t that cute no way.”

  The niggas in that car were like so many other niggas I had dated. They thought they were going to get to some ass easily. If the driver wasn’t driving an old beat up ’79 Pinto, I’m sure Embry would’ve went with his ass with no problem. Those types of men didn’t appeal to me period. When they came at me thinking they would get some pussy, they were all sadly mistaken.

  It seemed like niggas could smell my virginity a mile away and it disgusted the hell out of me. They were eager to brag to their busted up friends that they were the first to hit that pussy, having chicks out here all fucked up in the head doing strange things they wouldn’t otherwise do. They hunted for women like me as if that was the hottest thing on the menu these days. I was a rare find much like the white lion and more elusive than Big Foot so I had to protect my most valuable asset.

  “Daisy, what up.” Embry called over heading up to the porch. “Girl, you think you slick as hell. How you gonna tell me to meet you here and then try to leave me?”

  “Hey Embry. Bitch, I wasn’t trying to leave you. I was going to wait for your bum ass,” I joked. “What’s good though?”

  “Shit, I thought we were going to the self defense class together today? I got my dough and I’m ready to start,” she said casually twiddling her fingers around my long dark ponytail.

  My martial arts class was actually nothing more than a simple self-defense class but an ex-marine who ran the class like a drill sergeant headed it. I liked that because he taught us much more than those twelve-dollar rinky-dink basic classes taught. I was comfortable enough with him to pillow talk with him about my fears. I never wanted to become anyone’s victim. So having been in his class for the last four years, earlier this year he began teaching me much more advance techniques than his other students. If need be, I was prepared to protect my pussy at all cost.

  “I am. I’m headed there now.” I looked at her oddly as she continued to play in my hair. “Girl, I just got lazy though. It’s too hot to do anything.”

  She always touched me awkwardly but I paid it no mind feeling like maybe she was just one of those touchy feely types. My gay-dar didn’t go off about her and she never made a pass at me the entire time I’ve known her so it never occurred to me to ask. She was a shorty standing 5'3" and couldn't have been any more than 165 pounds but she was solid.

  Unless she was able to make it to her hair stylist to get her long flowing weave laid, her hair was always cut low and slicked down much like the famous Halle Berry style. She thought since she had creamy smooth caramel skin and dreamy hazel eyes that she resembled a shorter version of the star. Trying not to seem rude, I whisked my ponytail around and turned to face her keeping my hair out of arm’s length of her.

  “Let’s go big booty. I’ve got some strife in my ‘slap a bitch’ arm that I need to release,” Embry laughed. />
  “You wouldn’t need to slap a bitch if you stayed away from their men,” I snarled.

  Embry sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. She was very spoiled. She always had to have her way. Her parents gave her a monthly allowance like she was a little kid. She got $20,000 a month to live off of until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life after graduation. Her dad made it a point to put her on a time limit even though Embry was hearing none of it. With her champagne taste she quickly ran through that money and was begging for more. She could have spent that much on her fucking hair appointments for a month. Embry was so fascinated with the glamorous lifestyle that she spoke of it every chance she got.

  “So we going or not, girl?” She asked taking her Louis Vuitton bag from her shoulder.

  “I guess,” I responded playfully. “You know could have drove your drop top over here and we could’ve rode in style.

  "Go on and get your bag Ms. Lawyer-girl so we can go," Embry kidded. “Anyway, daddy took it away from me. He’s slowly trying to cut my stupid ass off. That’s why I’m walking. A bitch had to take the fucking bus. The bus! You know it’s hard getting a cab in the downtown area. Ugh, I need a sponsor and fast.”

  "Yeah well you have the right to shut the fuck up when we get in my truck. I don’t want to hear you bashing my shit every time you’re in it about how basic it is. You hear me?” My lips curled knowing she was going to say something stupid about my sky blue 2008 Mazda CX-9 anyway. Yeah, my baby was five years old but she was my baby and started up every time. “And stop talking that lawyer junk. I'm not sure that's what I what to be yet."

  "But you said you wanted to work on your dad’s unsolved case, right? You said you thought he was murdered and that the car accident was a cover up. I thought that's what you went to school for in the first place."