Return of the Cartier Cartel (11 page)

“Ya think, huh? You think you know Jason. Well, know that Jason snuck all of our money out of this house, and if shit hit the fan today or tomorrow, you and I are back to Brooklyn in a heartbeat.”

“What do you mean, he took all the money?”

“I’ve been on him since we came back from Los Angeles to save money for a rainy day, and he was doing that. He’d saved close to at least a million dollars, and then we got that score from Big Mike, and money just kept rolling in. He was approaching our retirement goal quickly, and then one day I go to the safe and all the bread is gone and he has this lame excuse. Now I don’t know where the money is at, and he is basically telling me to kick rocks. No matter how much I curse him out about the money, he just screams back.”

This new information was disturbing to Trina. She knew men kept their money with their loved ones. And if it wasn’t in this house or at least where Cartier could get her hands on to it, then she was right—Jason was most likely open off this new bitch. Trina felt that her daughter had gone through too much to be left broke. That wasn’t going to happen.

“So Jason not only walked out of here with over a million dollars and you don’t have one coin to even bail his stupid ass out if he got jammed up, but he’s also fucking with a Spanish chick whose sister is the mother of Ryan’s child. And chances are that she could now be the keeper of all that cash? Oh, hells no! No fucking way is this Spanish bitch and that little-dick muthafucka gonna get over on my daughter.” Trina’s mind was spinning with thoughts. She knew if the feds kicked in the front door, the house held a hefty mortgage, and that even if she and Cartier both got jobs, they couldn’t afford it. So that meant that Cartier needed a stash for rainy days, which, when you’re in the drug game, were sure to happen.

“Where’s the drugs y’all scored from Big Mike?”

“The drugs? They still here. With what we took off Mike, and from Jason’s stash, there’s eleven keys.”

Trina reached for her Newport and lit it. “You know, first off, there shouldn’t be any muthafuckin’ drugs up in here, with these kids, but I didn’t wanna say anything ’cause this ain’t really my crib. But fuck all of that. That little dirty bastard gonna leave us up in here dirty while he toss all that cash toward a new bitch, and you been down with him for how long? You the mother of his kid! This shit is unbelievable! So how much that tally to?” Trina took a moment to calculate the street value of the drugs. “OK, so that’s like two, three hundred large, give or take.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So? So we’re gonna rob him.”

Cartier’s eyes popped open wide like she was spooked. “Come again?”

“When he leaves the house tomorrow morning, you’re going to move all that shit to my apartment in Brooklyn. He doesn’t have a key. Then you’ll call him and tell him that we’re going to Shanine and Monya’s grave. Before we leave, we’ll break a window and toss a few things around. Call him around eight o’clock and tell him we’ve been robbed. Make it sound good, Cartier. Jason can’t catch on that we set him up. Ask him, did he tell anybody where we lived over and over again. Make him start thinking twice about this new bitch. Ask, could anybody have followed him leaving any destinations. You feel me?”

Cartier’s grin said it all.

Trina continued. “You still got your connections to move the weight?”

“No doubt.”

“Good. In a couple months, get The Cartel back together and begin unloading those keys. Ain’t no way my baby ain’t gonna have a cash flow. And while you’re at it, you better start bleeding Jason dry. Run his pockets every night he comes home drunk and stash half of his pocket money. Let him buy you jewelry and pretend to lose it. Get robbed, whatever excuse you can think of, and in the meantime, don’t ever mention this new bitch. But, Cartier?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to be extra careful out on these streets. I don’t want to lose you like Janet lost Monya. Don’t leave the house without your piece. Always look in your mirrors when you’re on your way home, and always circle the block before you open up the garage, you know, shit like that. I don’t know what’s going on, but something is going to go down, and I will go postal if I lose you.”

Cartier would take Trina’s advice, but she couldn’t agree to turning the other cheek about Jason and his new affair. She promised Jason that if he ever cheated on her again, she’d fuck him and his mistress up. Thinking logically, Cartier knew that if she gave Jalissa a fair one and kicked her ass, she’d have to look over her shoulders forever to see who would be coming at her. Not that she was afraid. Hardly. But she did have the kids to think about, and bitches running up on you while you’re with your kids in Wal-Mart ain’t something to look forward to.

Cartier realized she had to take care of not only Jalissa but Marisol too, and she couldn’t help but keep Ryan at the top of the list.

****

“Yo, our house just got robbed!” Cartier screamed frantically to the unsuspecting Jason.

“What the fuck you mean?”

“Trina and us just got back from the cemetery, and someone came through and robbed us! They took the whole safe. They got everything. Did you ever put that money back?”

“What money?”

“Our money. That money we’ve been saving. Did you ever put the re-up money back, once you came off with that heroin?”

“Aw, man! Yeah, I just put back the money last night,” Jason lied.

“Damn, Jay! I was hoping you didn’t put the money back.” Cartier began to cry, amazed her acting was that good. “Now what are we gonna do?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be home soon.”

“No!” Cartier yelled. “The police are on their way to investigate. I don’t want you around those peoples.”

“Then why the fuck did you call them? You know they got a good nose and can sniff out a hustler. You and Trina will stick out like sore thumbs.”

“We didn’t call the police, the neighbor did. They saw a group of Hispanic men rushing from out of our house, holding heavy things, and knew it didn’t look right, so they called the police.”

“A group of Hispanic men?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out who the fuck could have found out where we live. Bam and Li’l Momma have never been here, and I always make sure I’m not being followed. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Can you think of anyone who could have followed you home on one of your drunk nights, or maybe did you slip up and tell someone where we lived?”

“You talking crazy now. I ain’t never got caught slippin’. This just some random shit.”

“Random? Thieves got away with all of our money, and the package, and it’s just random? What are we going to do for money now?”

“Cartier, please stop nagging me. Haven’t I always taken care of you? This is a little setback, but bills will be paid at the beginning of each month.”

I know they will, bitch! Because you still got all our money stashed away with your slut!

“OK. I’ll see you when you get home. I’m going to talk to the police, clean up, and then put the kids to bed.”

“OK, cool.”

“Love you.”

“I’ll see you later. One.”

****

When Jason came home the next day, he was pissed, as well as leery. He didn’t have a clue about who could have robbed his crib, but he was relieved that he’d removed the money. Home invasions happened all the time in the drug game, but that usually ended with the drug dealer and his family’s brains being splattered all over their marble floors. This was more of a robbery. Get in and get out type of MO. Burglars target high-end neighborhoods all the time expecting to score family heirlooms and expensive paintings. Maybe it was all coincidental and had nothing to do with them.

With everyone shook up, Jason decided to hire a security company to install top-of-the-line equipment. There wasn’t any way he’d be a sitting mark, nor would he allow anyone to harm a hair on his kids’ heads.

Ten thousand dollars and five hours later, he couldn’t stop grinning at his new toy. He couldn’t help but feel like Al Pacino in Scarface. Their bedroom and Trina’s bedroom had eight monitors installed that gave real-time footage of the garage, and ten cameras facing every angle of the house.

There wasn’t any way anyone could approach the house without them being aware of it. And when Jason or Cartier wasn’t available to watch, then Trina would be watching too as she watched her soap operas.

A cellular backup GPS device was added to the existing alarm system, so even if someone cut the telephone line hooked to the system, the backup system would automatically kick in. They even added a sensor on the ceilings so that if someone broke a window to avoid being detected by the motion sensor, the glass sensor would automatically kick in and set off the alarm.

As Jason sat, grinning like the cat that ate the canary, Cartier asked, “What are you grinning about?”

“Huh?” he asked, suddenly feeling foolish.

“I said, what the fuck are you grinning about? Did you forget we just got robbed? Not only for the coke, but all of our money.”

Jason had almost forgotten the lie about the money being put back. They were supposed to be broke, and not really having a coin to their name.

“I’m smiling because I’m taking measures to protect my family. Am I wrong to feel good about that?”

“Jay, money is the best protection your family could have, and we don’t have a dime. Where’s our mortgage protection? Our car note protection? Our light, water, and gas bill protection? Huh? How ’bout that?”

“You can’t even stop for one second to thank God that when those peoples ran up in here you or the kids weren’t here. All you can ever talk about is that gwap! I told you that you don’t got shit to worry about. I’ve always taken care of my family, and this setback won’t stop my flow. I got some shit working in the pipeline, and I assure you, we gonna be straight again.”

Cartier knew he was lying. She could barely look at his face. How could he take their money and cut her out and feel good about that? Cartier knew, though, it wasn’t who won the battle, but who won the war. Jason might think he’d gotten over, but she planned to be the last chick standing, whatever that meant and whatever the cost.

Chapter 13

The Art of War

The two sultry women loved to get together and plot. As far as they were concerned, they were smarter and prettier than any chick and more cut-throat and heartless than any nigga. In other words, a person’s worst nightmare would materialize if they ever found themselves on the wrong side of the fence with either one of these sisters.

“OK, so where are we with Jason? Did he bring you the money to hold yet?”

“Nah, he still acting shook, but I’ma break him in a few more weeks. I’ll put my life on that. That nigga pussy-whipped.”

“So, then what’s taking so long? You should have that by now. I’m already spending that fuckin’ dough in my head.”

“You know what? I had him. I had him ready to bring me the money to put in my box, but then something happened. I don’t know what. He won’t tell me, but something must have gone down that spooked him. But it won’t take long before I get him back into his good graces. And the sooner, the better. I’m so tired of pretending that me speaka very little English.”

Both girls erupted in laughter.

“Shit. I know we’re Puerto Rican, but we were born in Brooklyn, not Puerto Rico, and none of our family speak Spanish. I can’t even understand that shit. Sometimes, I be saying words I got off the Internet just moments before he walks through the door.”

“He’s one dumb muthafucka!” Marisol added.

“He’s one of the easiest marks we ever ran. All he wants is a subservient bitch. When he’s in my crib, I feel like an indentured servant, running all over the apartment, fixing him shit, grabbing him beers, picking up his funky clothes.” Jalissa rolled her eyes. “And after all of that, I gotta fuck him and suck his little dick and act like I like it. Oh, please believe me when I tell you that I’ll have the money within the next two weeks, or I promise, I will put a bullet in his head myself and save Ryan the hassle.”

Marisol walked to the mirror on the armoire and began to brush her silky hair. Then she reapplied her lip gloss. She was going out to dinner with her boo tonight.

“You know, we gotta wrap this shit up quickly. If Ryan finds out you’re fucking with Jason, he’ll kill you. And then I’ll have to kill him, and that won’t be a good look.”

Jalissa nodded. “I know. But we’re both careful. I sure as hell don’t want Ryan to find out, and he sure as hell don’t want his wife to find out. So I think we’re good.”

“Speaking of wifey, she could be a problem too, if things hit the streets. I heard she did a bid for a murder.”

“That bitch can’t fuck with you! Jason already pulled her card and said she did the bid for her homegirl. Some chick that was down with her crew was the one who put in the work; one of the same chicks Ryan got that big score from.”

Marisol remained quiet for a while. She knew more about The Cartel than she was letting on. Ryan ran his mouth for years about Cartier being thorough, and although she might not have been the one to kill that local drug hustler, she was there, and she had the heart to actually do the bid. That spoke volumes in Marisol’s book.

“I know that bitch can’t fuck with me, but I don’t sleep on anyone. Jalissa, always remember, anyone could get got. Even me. So don’t ever let your guards down. We’re playing a dangerous game, and as always, we gotta be smart so we can’t get sloppy. We have to stick to the plan, which is drain Jason for all of his money, and then give me the information to feed to Ryan to dead him. And although we’re not losing any sleep over his bitch, it would be better that she never find out about y’all, because that would cause unnecessary drama. Remember, this isn’t about beef. This is about getting paid. Going to war with his wife won’t bring a dime into either one of our pockets.

“Now Ryan, on the other hand, is a different story. For money, he inherited a beef. He killed those girls to bring money into our household, and now Jason feels as though he has to step in and be a superhero to seek revenge. When he feels those hot slugs enter his body, he’ll wish he had rethought his decision to fuck with my boo. You know”—Marisol paused and turned to face Jalissa—“People out here think Ryan is soft like butter, like he just a pretty boy and he don’t hold shit down. But ain’t nothing soft about my baby. He hard, from his block head to his rock-hard dick.”