Cartier Cartel Read online

  Again Monya was the first to speak. "Well, if you got our backs, then I'm down with you. You know you're my girl."

  Cartier knew she could always depend on Monya to have her back.

  "Yeah, I'm in too," Lil Momma added. "I need all the money I can get."

  "Just tell me what to do and I'm in," Barn stated.

  "Me too," Shanine said, completing the group.

  "OK, good. Well, we're gonna start small. I need everyone to put in two hundred dollars from their stash. Lil Momma, if you're tapped out, then I'll cover you. But I'll need that paper today."

  "No, I have it. I can go get my share now," Lil Momma volunteered. She wanted to please Cartier and show her bygones were bygones.

  "Good. A ight, then everybody go and get your paper and meet back here in an hour."

  artier leaned against the side of the cold concrete building as the frigid air attempted to freeze her toes and fingertips. In the beginning, she entertained herself by blowing smoke rings out of her mouth; now she stood stone as her mind raced. In a few hours, she and the crew would call it a night from hustling. She had contemplated alternating shifts, but for now, having everyone on the street cut down the stress. Cartier reasoned that with all five playing a significant role, it would play out better for the Cartel.

  Bam held the product while Lil Momma took the money. Shanine then walked the money to Bam and the process reversed. Bam gave the product to Shanine, who walked it to Lil Momma, who completed the transaction with the customer. Monya was the lookout while Cartier provided the muscle.

  Cartier relished her role as the muscle. She knew they were susceptible to all types of violence. Some of the boys in the hood didn't appreciate their entrepreneurial spirit. She felt she was prepared to do damage with the knife she kept tucked in her back pocket and the baseball bat she hid on the side of the building. Since she started boosting, she had been playing with knives. She now considered herself a self-taught expert with any blade.

  In the first three weeks of selling hand-to-hand, the Cartel brought home five hundred dollars each after buying their reup. Shanine, Bam, and Lil Momma were ecstatic, but Monya and Cartier weren't so pleased. Monya already had plans for her money. She was saving up to buy diamond earrings, and Cartier had her eyes on a ride.

  Cartier wanted to stack paper like her male counterparts did. For her, five hundred large wasn't stacking paper. That was chump change, little boys' money. She wanted to move up the ladder and didn't have the patience to go slow. By the third week, she figured she needed to call a meeting.

  Everyone gathered in the compound, her newly furnished bedroom, as she closed and locked the door behind them. With business first on her mind, she didn't have time for Shanine and Barn's arguing over petty shit.

  "Why don't you knock it off?" Cartier blasted as she took command of the meeting.

  "Then tell her to leave me alone," Shanine suggested.

  Cartier disregarded Shanine's childishness. It was getting harder and harder for her to tolerate Shanine and her petty ways. "OK, look, I got to say something that I'm sure y'all aren't going to like, but just hear me out and see my logic."

  "But before you say what you gotta say, let me say this," Lil Momma interrupted. "Everything is going great and I don't think we should switch up our game plan, because that could be bad luck."

  "Why the fuck you gotta go and jinx us?" Cartier snapped. "You know I hate it when you start bringing up that voodoo shit"

  "How's that voodoo?" Lil Momma snapped back. "If I'm saying we're on the right path? We're all making money. We don't got Ds breathing down our necks and we're all on our way to sitting on top of big money."

  "That's exactly what I want to get at. Our paper, Yes, we're at a really good start, but in order for us to come off and really get paid we'll need to do two things. One, we need to stop selling weed and move up to dope-"

  "Cartier! That's way too dangerous!" Lil Momma replied.

  "Will you keep it down before you wake up my moms and then I gotta hear her mouth all night about how hungry she is?"

  "My bad, but you can't be serious."

  "As a heart attack," Cartier continued. "Like I said, we need to flip the switch and start selling dope. And not only that, our profit for this week needs to be reinvested to buy our package."

  "What? Now you done said the wrong thing fucking with my money," Monya stood up from the bed and placed her hands on her hips. "I was riding with you for a moment, but now you're talking crazy."

  "Sit your bony ass down!" Cartier barked. She wasn't in the mood for Monya's act of defiance. Best friend or not, she regarded Monya as bitchy and hoped she didn't have to bring her down a peg or two. "This week we're going to reinvest every dime of our profit into our reup. And though I'm not crazy about this, we're going to start working in shifts. And here's my reasoning. Fiends walk the streets all day and night, twenty-four seven, 365. Not just during a particular hour. Now, if we have more product and divide our shifts by four, then we got the whole neighborhood locked down. We will work in six-hour shifts, with two of us covering the graveyard shift. I will take the graveyard shift, while all of y'all can alternate. The graveyard shift is from midnight to six in the morning. The other shifts will be put inside this hat and y'all stick your hand inside and choose. Please don't make this a difficult process. It's not brain surgery."

  The whole crew was getting tired of Cartier's sarcastic remarks and bossy attitude. But they weren't tired of the money, so no one tried to check Cartier.

  Each girl took turns pulling for a shift. Shanine drew the first shift, from six in the morning until noon. Lil Momma pulled the second shift, from noon until six, and Barn drew six until midnight. Monya was tasked to team with Cartier from midnight until six.

  The first week was tough. Each member wasn't used to the strict hours, and it was especially rough on Cartier. But she thugged it out; the success or failure of the Cartel rested solely on her shoulders.

  By week two, the Cartel was subject to idle threats by the neighborhood boys they knew and had once called friends. They felt that the Cartel was taking their clientele. Initially, they all were accosted by slick remarks from their childhood acquaintances. But when the boys' boss, Donnie, stepped to the Cartel, things got more intense.

  One morning, shortly after three, Donnie rolled up on Cartier and Shanine. Donnie stepped out of his luxury SUV with an ice grill plastered to his face which transformed into a smile, a smile of deception. The past week, his money had dropped drastically. The Cartel was selling dope on his corners and they were doing what no one else could do-affect his profit margin. He heard they were running a twenty-four hour operation, thus monopolizing the drug game. He had to admit it was a smart move. However, it would have been smarter to do it elsewhere; anywhere except his corners. Out of respect and deference to their gender, he'd decided to give them one warning and only one. Had they been men, he would have gotten out of his ride, bucking shots.

  "What do we have here?" Donnie said, standing two feet from Cartier. Her sidekick, Shanine, was servicing a customer.

  "Whaddup, D?" Cartier returned the half-hearted greeting.

  Donnie cleared his throat by sending a wad of spit only inches from Cartier's new Air Force Ones. "You tell me."

  Cartier's pressure rose. She didn't appreciate being spit at in the middle of the night by some lame-ass dude. She was tired. Her feet hurt. Instead of buying her proper size seven, she bought her sneakers a half size too small to make her feet look smaller. Now all she wanted to do was get in her new comfortable bed.

  "I don't know what you want to hear," she stated.

  "Why y'all on my corners, that's what."

  "Oh, Harpo, dis here yo corners?" Cartier said mockingly in her best impersonation from The Color Purple.

  "You think that shit is cute, bitch?" Donnie retorted excitedly as he stepped closer to Cartier. "I'm not playing with your silly ass-"

  "Who you calling silly?" Cartier cut him off.
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  "You, bitch!" Donnie shot back.

  Cartier turned to walk away from him and he reached out and grabbed her. She wiggled out of his grip. "Get the fuck off of me!"

  "Cartier, I know you think you all tough, but you ain't no nigga. I will fucking break you in two if you keep slinging rock on my blocks."

  Cartier walked away, tossing her middle finger over her shoulder, and kept it moving. There wasn't any way she was going to allow Donnie or anyone else to prevent her from establishing her drug empire. Fuck Donnie. He's a loser, she thought.

  "If I have to come out here again and see any one of your crew on my corner pushing work, I'ma push your wig back. Take me for a joke if you want to." Donnie jumped back in his ride and pulled off, screeching his tires as he sped away.

  Cartier was hardly moved by his antics. He was acting as if he was the major of Brownsville, saying shit like, his block, his product, his customers, when that motherfucker didn't even own his car. Cartier heard he was leasing his shit from the dealership. What kind of kingpin drives a damn leased vehicle?

  Donnie hardly made her hands tremble. If he got out of line again and confronted her, then the Cartel was going to jump his ass and give him a severe beat-down. If she had to, she was prepared to get Ms. Janet involved since Trina was eight months pregnant. Ms. Janet had already proved that she still had what it took to get busy as if she was still twenty years old.

  "What was that all about?" Shanine asked after the commotion had died down.

  "That punk motherfucker out here trying to push his weight around."

  "What he say?"

  "That we gotta stop hugging the block or else."

  "Or else what?"

  "He didn't say."

  "Please, he better go on with that bullshit. He been watching too many mob movies. This ain't the mafia, where he owning blocks and extorting motherfuckers. This the fucking hood and any and everything goes. I hope you told him to kiss your ass!"

  Cartier loved that four out of five members of her crew had heart. Had she been out there with Monya, the conversation would have gone differently. Yes, Monya loved money, but she was scared of her own shadow and always predicted gloom and doom. She decided not to tell Monya about what had happened tonight.

  "Hell, yeah, I told him to bounce," Cartier stated. "Let's just keep this conversation between us. I don't want the rest of the crew to get antsy and not be able to concentrate."

  "Do you think that's wise? I mean, shouldn't they be on point?"

  Cartier could hear the concern in Shanine's voice. But she was the leader and she had to make the tough decisions. "They'll be more alert if they're not worrying. Besides, I always work the graveyard shift and if he wants to start beefing, he's going to come for me, and I can handle me and mines."

  Shanine didn't think it was a good idea not informing the Cartel about Donnie's threat, and although she didn't want to go against Cartier, she knew that keeping the Cartel in the dark about a possible threat wasn't just a bad decision; it was just plain stupid. She couldn't wait for morning to give the crew the 411.

  They both finished their shift and headed home to get some rest without another mention of Donnie.

  artier and Monya both had hot dates tonight. They were at Cartier's, getting dressed so they could examine what the other was wearing. It was the mandatory pre-date inspection; the critique among friends.

  Monya didn't like the body hugging cat-suit Cartier wore. Although she agreed it was sexy, she thought it was too much for her age. The revealing outfit showed every mountain, hill, and plateau on Cartier's shapely body.

  "I don't like that outfit," Monya said. "It looks a little dated."

  "Are you crazy?" Cartier asked as she looked at her firm, round butt protruding in the flimsy material. You couldn't tell her that she wasn't hot shit. Cartier thought either Monya was bugging or blind. "That nigga gonna be all over me"

  "But who wears a cat-suit to the movies and dinner?"

  Cartier could hear the envy in Monya's voice. "Since when do we follow tradition? I will wear a cat-suit to the movies and dinner, and I'm sure Ryan won't complain."

  Cartier had met Ryan while attending a Bad Boy concert at Madison Square Garden. He was from Harlem and sported a perm blowout afro. He was half black and half Puerto Rican, drove a BMW 525, and had a street name for himself.

  Monya didn't like their relationship, but she kept that to herself. She had spotted Ryan first and told Cartier to walk to the area where he was standing with his boys. Monya knew exactly who Ryan was. But once Ryan got a look at Cartier's fat ass, Monya wasn't even a consideration. Monya was burnt as she watched them exchange numbers. She could hardly believe Cartier had stolen her man. Monya was seething. She saw how Cartier took off her jacket to show her big ass and pranced all up in his face. As far as looks, Monya knew hands down she was prettier than Cartier. She even had a cute shape to be so thin; a shape that sported her small waist, nice size hips, and flat stomach. The only thing missing was an ass like Cartier's. It wasn't flat, it was just small and Monya hated that. As fine and nicely proportionate as she was, she felt the big-ass girls ruled the land.

  Monya was relentless. She walked to Cartier's closet and ruffled through a few dresses. "I think this would be more better, don't you?"

  Cartier stopped dead in her tracks. "Bitch, what you trying to pull?"

  Monya turned to face Cartier and swallowed hard. She ran her hands through her hair and began to wring her hands. She realized she might have overplayed her hand. Deep down, she didn't want Cartier to use what Monya thought was her strength, which was her body. She hadn't ever lost a guy to anyone, and although Ryan wasn't her man, she'd been plotting on him for months. She'd even had dreams about being his girl, sitting shotgun up in his ride and going on shopping sprees. Monya had studied him and learned his brief history. But she focused on the material, her true interest and love in life. She knew Ryan had made his name slinging drugs and making paper. She was intrigued that he bought his last two girlfriends brand new cars. He bought the first a new Honda Accord. When they broke up, he took it back, traded it in, and bought the next girl a brand new Infiniti jeep. When that relationship didn't work out, girlfriend number two wasn't as gullible. She didn't give back shit. She kept the ride and was still riding that jeep up and down the streets of Harlem.

  "I was only trying to help," Monya explained weakly. "You know you're my girl, and since that nigga is into buying cars, I want you to look your best. You know the Cartel needs a whip."

  Cartier wasn't born yesterday. She rolled her eyes at Monya's bullshit excuse. She knew jealousy when she saw it. Cartier wanted to play it cool, but she was prepared to slap Monya senseless if she didn't get over herself. Cartier knew how to get Monya's pressure up and she knew the more she piled on, the more pissed off Monya would get. When she put on her Christian Louboutin stiletto pumps and mink coat and paraded around the room, she could see envy and jealousy on Monya's face.

  "Oh my gosh, damn, I look fly," Cartier bragged. She didn't need Monya to kiss her ass. She had enough confidence for the both of them. "I can't wait to see his face when I pull off my coat."

  "It ain't even that serious," Monya sourly replied. She'd just put on her dress. "How I look?"

  Cartier stopped prancing around long enough to look at her friend. Her eyes scanned Monya up and down and she didn't get it. She knew guys loved Monya's cute face, but Cartier thought Monya was a lost cause. At one point, her body matured faster than the rest of the Cartel's bodies. But as fast as it grew, it seemed to stop just as fast. Regardless of how many guys pushed up on her, Cartier thought Monya's body was that of a ten-year-old.

  "You look stupid," Cartier said matter-of-factly. "Why are you always wearing those baby doll dresses?"

  "How I look stupid and you don't?" Monya countered.

  "I'm just saying that you're going on a date, not to the mall with friends. You're supposed to look sexy. Why don't you throw on a pair of tight jeans and hal
ter shirt and your mink coat?"

  "Because he already saw me in jeans. I gotta switch it up and give him a little variety. That's why I put my hair in curls and not let it fall straight."

  Cartier knew she had gotten under Monya's skin, just as Monya had tried to get underneath hers. And she loved it. Payback could be a bitch just as payback could be rewarding. Monya was insecure and that insecurity was woven in every fiber of her body. It was easy for Cartier to pull back the layers and find her buttons. She knew Monya needed validation, validation she would never receive from Cartier.

  "Look, just as you were trying to help me, you need to help yourself and take a good look in the mirror. That's all I'm saying."

  Monya wanted to curse her out, but she didn't. She did look hard in the mirror and at the last minute settled on a pair of jeans and tight sweater. Internally, Cartier was laughing. Monya looked twenty times better before, but it was the price she would pay for trying to sabotage Cartier first. It was about having a strong will, and Cartier knew she possessed the will and confidence to bring down mountains. Her best friend didn't.

  "I hope I have fun with this kid tonight. He seems a little boring on the phone," Monya began. "But if I have a boring time, hopefully Karon will make up for it tomorrow night:'

  "You going out with Karon tomorrow?"

  "Hell yeah, why not?"

  "What about Wise?"

  "What about him? If a dude wants me to be exclusive, then he better make me exclusive," Monya explained. "There're too many men out here to put all my eggs in one basket, especially considering how men play. They have a stable of bitches and they want you to be faithful." Monya sucked her teeth as she admired her pretty face in the mirror. "Besides, Karon is all sweating me. Did I tell you last night he was crying for me?"