Return of the Cartier Cartel (Part 2)

by Santiago, Nisa

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, well, then I agree, especially after what went down with her sister. Leaving her alive will be a problem.”

  Cartier was shocked that Janet knew what went down with Jalissa, which meant she knew Cartier was behind what happened to Jason. She’d almost forgotten that Trina and Janet were the best of friends, almost sisters, and didn’t keep anything from each other.

  “We need to get at Ryan and Marisol together. I got a strong feeling that I can’t shake that her need for revenge will be stronger than Ryan’s. Sure, Ryan killed our friends, but he had an agenda, and that was to make money. Greed is what will motivate any hustler. Coming at me today was more personal. I don’t think I’m high on Ryan’s hit list, especially now that Jason is out the way. I’m not saying—and, Bam, please don’t chime in—that Ryan isn’t a threat and that because we had a fling that he wouldn’t dead me. I’m not saying that. I’m saying that there isn’t any money involved in murking me. What Ryan did to the Cartel members was business. The attempted hit on me today was personal, and it has Marisol’s name written all over it. She’s a problem. I know she is. I can feel it in my bones. I saw it in her eyes that she knew I was behind her sister’s murder.”

  “So whatchu saying?” Li’l Momma asked. “That Marisol could have been the one in the Taurus?”

  “Maybe, yes. Maybe, no. I’m not sure. But I’m sure that she’s the one who will keep the fire lit under our asses. She will stay in Ryan’s ear to dead us, just as I stayed in Jason’s ear to dead Ryan. We gotta remember that Shanine and Monya were like our sisters. Jalissa was her sister.”

  “Damn, Cartier,” Bam began. “You done got us all in some more stupid shit.”

  Cartier jerked her head back, befuddled. “What are you talking about?” She turned to look at the others. “What is she talking about?”

  “She’s talking stupid as usual,” Li’l Momma exclaimed. “You’s one dumb ass, Bam. Now I usually ride with you on certain points, but this isn’t Cartier’s fault in any way. They chose this beef, and we’re gonna finish it. The players are still the same. Ryan’s gotta go, and once he is deaded, there would always be the chance that Marisol could be a problem. If not for Jalissa, then she might have come at us for Ryan.”

  Bam remained silent and the people in the room couldn’t read her so they continued with the meeting without her making any further comments.

  Janet decided to end the meeting with her parting words of wisdom. “OK, y’all gotta find people, trustworthy people, who work for the telephone company, DMV, collection agencies—anywhere that if you gave them a first and last name you could get an address. Any address that could get you closer to Ryan and Marisol. Once they’re gone, the beef will be gone. Y’all won’t have to worry about his goons. You know what they say. Hit the biggest nigga in the crew and everyone else will fall. Ryan is that big nigga. Once he falls, his crew will dismantle.”

  ****

  When Cartier finally made it home, she had a nagging feeling to call Head. She told herself that she was only calling to curse him out for playing her. He had called her out of her house then left her looking silly, causing her to almost get killed.

  “You owe me an apology!” Her voice was stern yet her heart pumped fearfully. She had no idea how the disrespectful bad boy would react to her ill temper.

  “Nah, ma. I see it the other way around.”

  “How the fuck do I owe you an apology when you walked out on me after I got out of my bed to come and see you?”

  “So you were asleep?”

  “Huh?” Cartier realized she’d just played herself. Twice.

  “Look, shorty, I love the sassy, gangster-bitch thing you got going on. All that bass in your husky voice is sexy as hell. But, as I told you earlier, I don’t tolerate a liar. Now you’re hitting me on my jack for a reason, as I hit you on yours for a reason. All these antics aren’t necessary. Now apologize for lying and we could get up. If not, then peace.”

  His voice was smooth like butter. He had a swagger that Cartier wanted to get to know better. There was such an excitement building with each second they remained on the phone. Was it because she was still married? The scandalous element to the situation had Cartier wanting more. Briefly she wondered, was this the allure of it all? Cheating? Was this the feeling that Jason couldn’t resist?

  “OK, I lied,” Cartier lowered her voice. “I didn’t want you to know that I was asleep. It was stupid, I know, but it wasn’t as disrespectful as you walking out on me this morning.”

  “Disrespect is disrespect. An act you can’t measure. And I’m not going to apologize for anything on my end. I’m a man with boundaries. But I forgive you. Now, what’s up? You wanna go out tonight? Because I know you didn’t really call thinking you were going to get me to say sorry. And before you reply, think about your answer. So tell me, you called because you wanna see me. True?”

  Slick mouth, check. Cocky, check. Huge ego, double check. Cartier hesitated briefly. “True.”

  Chapter 22

  If This Isn’t Love

  Cartier came downstairs looking like a movie star, all clad in red—dress, heels, clutch, and lipstick. She felt very trampy, which fit her mood.

  “Ma, can you watch the kids for me tonight?”

  Trina looked up to see Cartier already dressed, which annoyed her. “Look, Cartier, how do you know I ain’t got my own plans?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m asking you, not telling you, to watch the kids.”

  “Don’t give me that. You’re already dressed and walking out the door. When was you gonna let me know that you were heading out? Just because you put a roof over my head don’t mean that I’m your live-in slave. How ’bout all the years I kept a roof over your head?”

  “You’re my mother. You were supposed to keep a roof over my head! And food on the table.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Because, if you got a problem with me staying here, I can go back to where I came from. I got my own place, you know. I don’t got to be treated like this, all cooped up in here day and night watching all these damn kids, like this is a daycare center. And I’m not getting paid.”

  “Getting paid? Oh, so now I’m supposed to pay you?”

  “Just go, go.” Trina swatted Cartier out of her face.

  “Anyway, they won’t give you a problem. Cee Cee and Jr. will be asleep in a few minutes and should sleep throughout the night.”

  “Now you know that’s a damn lie. Cee Cee wakes up every night hollering for her strawberry milk.”

  Cartier wondered what was really annoying her mother. “I gave them both a tablespoon of Dimetapp, so as I said, they’ll sleep through the night.”

  Trina exploded. “What did I tell you ’bout drugging those damn kids? Ain’t near one of them got a cold. You keep it up, Cartier, and you gonna have two retards on your hands.”

  “I’ll be back before the sun comes up. If you want to go back to Brooklyn tomorrow, feel free. And thanks for asking about how my day went.” Cartier stormed out of the house, hoping to leave Trina on a guilt trip.

  “Kiss my ass!”

  Trina climbed in her bed and lit up a cigarette. “I will go back to Brooklyn and get the hell out of this here prison. Can’t have no company,” she said to herself. “Always gotta go through all this drama with this ungrateful spoiled brat. Got me living in the middle of a war zone. Shiittt!” Trina rolled her eyes. “I ain’t had no dick in months. She must have bumped her fuckin’ head, trying to threaten me.”

  ****

  Cartier met Head in Brooklyn and parked her car. From there they drove to Nobu restaurant on Houston Street, where just a few feet from their table sat actress Sandra Bullock. Cartier wasn’t a dick-rider, but she was amused to see the actress in person, being somewhat a fan of her work.

  As far as the food went, she was disappointed. Years ago, when you couldn’t even score a table at the high-priced establishment, the food was scrumptious. Now, her b
lack cod with tempura was too salty, the sake was bitter, and the salad was soggy.

  Head wasn’t impressed either. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked.

  “With pleasure.”

  Once outside Head clearly didn’t want the night to end. Neither did Cartier.

  “So are you ready to head home, or can you hang out a little more?”

  “I can hang,” she replied, hoping he couldn’t read her eagerness.

  “That’s a good look. So where are we heading? Do you want to go and grab a drink somewhere?”

  “I definitely need a strong drink after my day.”

  Head kept his Cayenne parked in the garage on Houston because he no longer felt like driving, so the pair caught a taxi to the W Hotel on Union Square. The hotel’s restaurant lounge area was packed, even though it was almost midnight. New York was certainly the city that never sleeps.

  “I hear they make an amazing Bellini, you know, a chick drink.”

  Pangs of jealousy shot through Cartier’s veins. How many women had he brought there to sip on Bellini? Instead of saying something and sounding immature, she remained silent.

  Once seated at the bar, Cartier ordered the usual, “Apple martini.”

  Three drinks later, Head revisited Cartier’s earlier remark. “You said you had a bad day. I’m not going to presume that it had anything to do with me, but if it did, then I hope I’m making up for it.”

  Cartier tilted her head to the side and shrugged her shoulders, trying to shake off the day’s events. “Well, it did start off bad because of you. I felt really disrespected, but I got over that quickly. Today almost ended with me in a pine box.”

  “Come again?”

  “Yeah, shit got ugly out there for me today. I was on my way home, and someone just started bucking shots at me.”

  “You sure it was meant for you?”

  “I’m one hundred.”

  “So you got a beef?”

  “Something like that.” Cartier tried to downplay the situation.

  “Well, what about your husband?”

  “What about your girl?”

  It was now Head’s turn to tilt his head to one side. He had no idea where the conversation was going. He wanted to know if the beef was her husband’s beef, or at least, would he handle it. There wasn’t any way he could sit back and let his wife, or even his girl, handle any beef.

  “What’s that about?”

  “You tell me,” Cartier replied.

  Head got the hint. “You wanna take this upstairs?”

  “Maybe . . .” Cartier paused for effect. She couldn’t believe she was being so forward. Although she had been drinking, she was far from drunk, so there wouldn’t be any blaming it on the alcohol. “What about your girl?”

  Head chuckled. “Shorty, you don’t got shit to worry about. Old girl and I are done. There won’t be any encores.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “I’m sure the average nigga does say fairytale shit like that, but I’m a real dude. If I say something, then you can always take it at face value. My girl left me when I was locked down. She didn’t even stay around long enough to be there for my sentencing. She thought a nigga was finished. She knew I was facing more lives than a cat, so she walked. I knew she wasn’t shit when we hooked up. She was my man Nut’s girl, and when he got murked, she slid on over my way.”

  “Damn! That’s fucked up.”

  “No doubt. On both our parts. I was just as grimy as her. I was a little young nigga and thought she represented something because she was fucking around with the head nigga in charge. I don’t really blame her for her actions, though. She was a street chick who was only exposed to that fast life, fast money, fast niggas. It comes with the territory.”

  “Did Trina know her? It seems like this Nut got around.”

  “I don’t know, maybe. But Trina and Nut was more like a fling. And any young nigga getting paper is gonna get around, ma.”

  “So you don’t care that she didn’t do your bid with you?”

  “Nope.”

  “You must still love her then.”

  “As I said, I understand her actions. I got love for her, but I would never love her again. We’re done. I’m not a man who makes the same mistake twice.”

  Cartier assumed that, in his roundabout way, he was saying he was a free agent. She wanted to be the right chick to pull him off the market.

  ****

  While Head got the room, Cartier ordered one last drink for the road only. She needed something stronger than the apple martini. Quickly, she gulped down the double shot of Hennessy. All at once she was shy, horny, adventurous, and also ready to put her marriage behind her, which meant erasing Jason’s as the last dick she’d fucked.

  They’d only been in the room for a few minutes before Cartier’s head began to spin.

  Head noticed immediately as she wobbled, trying to take off her stilettos. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just got a little lightheaded, that’s all.”

  “Come here.” Head motioned for her to have a seat on the side of the plush mattress. “Let me help you with these.”

  After Cartier took a seat, Head bent down on his knees and gently removed her shoes. “You have pretty feet.” He admired her small foot as it sat daintily in his large hands. When he looked up, he saw Cartier’s dilated eyes. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

  “I told you I’m fine,” she whispered, and then began a chest-rattling cough.

  “You don’t look fine. You need to lie down. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.”

  Suddenly, Cartier had the urge to throw up. As Head got up to call room service for bottled water and milk to help coat her stomach, she ran past him and just barely made it to the toilet and regurgitated.

  Head was right on her heels as she kneeled over the toilet to throw up virtually everything she’d eaten all day. As her stomach muscles churned and contracted, and her insides seared her throat, Cartier thought she was going to die from the pain.

  As she sat crouched over the toilet, helpless, looking a hot mess, Head rubbed her back soothingly.

  Cartier held her head over the toilet for almost an hour, with spurts of vomit every ten to twenty minutes. She knew she should have never mixed her drinks, but she was slightly nervous about screwing Head, not to mention he was somewhat intimidating.

  Finally, when she tried to stand up, her knees wobbled and then buckled. Head caught her and picked her up and took her straight to the bed. He laid her down and tossed the down comforter on top of her.

  He stood there for a moment staring at the sickly woman, not knowing exactly what he could do to help her feel better. When room service came with the water and milk, he sent them back to bring her some soup. He knew she needed something in her stomach because she’d surely emptied it with all that vomiting.

  He put his hand over her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  Head went in the bathroom and got a cool cloth to wipe her forehead, only to return to a sleeping beauty. Next, he began undressing her, and as he slid off the red silk dress, the gun fitted snugly to her thigh took him by surprise. The sexy temptress with the toned body, baby-soft skin, and sassy attitude was packing a piece. Clad in only her lace bra and panties, this girl kept Head’s dick brick-hard.

  He removed her gun and covered her back up. “Cartier, wake up, ma.”

  Cartier struggled to open her eyes. Her vision was blurry, and her head was pounding. She knew where she was and who she was with, but all she wanted to do was close her eyes in hopes that the pain would go away. She hadn’t been that fucked up in years. Not since she was a teenager trying to be grown. She knew she’d definitely played herself.

  “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” Head placed the cup of milk in her hands, and she took a sip. “No, you gotta drink it all.”

  Cartier wanted to smack the cup out of his hand because she was in so much pain. Instead she exhaled and forced
herself to drink the room-temperature milk. He followed by feeding her a bowl of soup.

  Once she was done, Cartier was allowed to finally go to sleep. Head nestled up behind her, his massive hand resting on her flat stomach.

  ****

  Cartier awoke to the television on in the room, but she didn’t see Head. Draped only in her bra and panties, she wondered if they’d fucked and he bounced. She reached down and felt her vagina, which seemed fine, untouched. She wanted to call for him, but her throat was still on fire.

  She peeked over at the clock, which said nine thirty. Cartier knew Trina was going to lose her mind and curse her out the moment she walked through the door. Briefly she toyed with the idea of calling her mother to let her know she’d be home soon but quickly decided against it. Why get cursed out twice? She’ll just swallow her medicine when she got home.

  Shortly thereafter, Head came back into the room with breakfast. Cartier’s heart was flying around in her chest. She was relieved that he was still around.

  He came walking into the room, bringing the aroma of sweet maple syrup and flavored coffee with him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.” Cartier lied unconvincingly.

  “You don’t look OK.” Head checked her forehead for a fever. When his hands slid down to her neck, she was soaked in sweat. “Stay here, I’m going to run you a bath.”

  As the water was running, he pulled open the drapes in the hotel room to let the sunshine in. He then handed her a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and toast. “Here, eat this first and then you can bathe. Make sure you drink all of that milk I got for you, and take those Advils. It should help you to get your strength back.”

  After Cartier ate most of her breakfast and took the Advils, she honestly felt better. Her head fog lifted, and she wanted to resume where they’d left off last night.

  Head, still treating her like a patient, walked her into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet stall. “Come here.”

  Cartier walked in between his legs. When he reached up and began to take off her panties, she took one step back. “What are you doing?”