Cartel Dreams: A Love Story

BOOK: Cartel Dreams: A Love Story
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CARTEL DREAMS

By NICETY

Copyright © 2015
DAVID WEAVER PRESENTS

Facebook:
AM.I.NICETY

Twitter:
@IAM_NICETY

YouTube:
mswordpoison

Instagram:
Iamnicety

 

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual events, real people, living or dead, organizations, establishments or locales are products of the author’s imagination. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission from the publisher and writer.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication, and may no longer be vali
d
.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

Giving honor to God. He who is the head of my household.

Thank you to my family; I will love

you all until the end of time, you are the air that

I breathe.

To my friends; thanks for keeping me afloat

when I thought I would sink.

To my fans and many followers; I love you

all more than words can say.

Thank you for the love and support

you deliver each day!

 

 

DEDICATION

 

I would like to dedicate this book to

my husband, children, family and my friends

that supported my dream over the years

of becoming a published writer.

They believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself years ago.

I’m making you proud now! Also to my readers for

without you there would be no me. I love you all!

 

Major shout outs to David Weaver, my publisher for believing in me and trusting that we can make this happen. You’re the best. Special shout outs also go to the BankRoll Squad for welcoming into your family and making me feel right at home.

Love ya to pieces!

 

Special Shout outs to #TEAMNICETY, the bullets to my nine!

 

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart

for always supporting me and making sure that I

remained focused on the task at hand, which was getting

your books to you on time. Laughing but dead serious.

To my husband, the perfect verse over a tight beat.

Thanks for being nothing more than you!

 

**If I have forgotten anyone, know that

I love you still**

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

“Morgan, I’m not gonna ask you this shit again. Did you think y’all would get away with that shit? Huh?” The man yelled on the side of her right ear.

He licked it with the tip of his tongue slowly then rose up to catch her reaction. Her face was stone cold simply staring at him breathing hysterically through the duct tape over her mouth. Tears watered her eyes but she refused to let them fall. The pride she had built inside of her for so many years wouldn't allow them to and that’s what most men that approached her found desirable about her. Morgan was a spicy and fit young Puerto Rican mami who never backed down from anybody.

Her long body sat in a chair in a room of her apartment with light only created by the moon with a gun inserted into the depths of the side of her jaw. As she swallowed, saliva was noticed in gulps easing down the back of her throat while she tried not to make any sudden moves. Her mouth felt dry and her jaws looked swollen. Her armpits had huge moist patches of sweat forming on her shirt from terror and fear. Her face was bloody and bruised almost like she was beaten with concrete. She looked around trying not to cry but so desperately searching for a way out of the mess she was in.

“Where’s the shit you stole from us you pretty bitch?” He screamed close to her ear.

She had no idea what the hell the dude was talking about. He had been repeating that same shit since she woke up from her concussion but couldn’t figure out what money or dope and where it even was for that matter. She couldn’t speak to tell him anything and even if she did she felt like it was too late. He wouldn’t believe her and her brains would be splattered all over the wall in back of her regardless of what she told him. She would never see her friends or father again. At least she was going home to see her mother, she thought.

The man removed the tape with out care while Morgan cringed from the burning on her face from the release. Though happy to be free from the tape, it was short lived by the man shoving his long 9mm gun barrel into her mouth. Morgan watched the man to check his mannerisms hoping he wasn't a trigger happy bitch, willing to squeeze at the drop of a hat.

“Where’s the fucking money, Morgan?”

She looked up into his eyes realizing he couldn’t have been mistaken. He had said her name on more than one occasion since she had been held captive but she didn’t understand how he thought she could have stolen anything from him. Her eyes darted confusingly at him wondering how the man even knew her when she hadn’t the faintest idea as to who he was.

“Don’t you think after all of this torture that I would tell you by now? Dude you have the wrong girl.” She finally gurgled over the barrel of the gun out of frustration.

At that point it looked like the only way she was going to be getting out of there was if she wasn’t breathing. The man pistol-whipped her in the mouth one good time for her sassiness. Compared to the hours of being punched, kicked, and burned all while falling in and out of consciousness, that little blow was a cakewalk. He was quickly losing his patience, however. But if she didn’t tell him where his shit was soon she would no doubt find herself in a body bag. She was going to die a slow but horrible death and she knew it.

“You little bitch. I’m tired of fucking around with you. Tell me where it is now or die.” The man pointed the gun directly to her temple.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I swear to God I really don’t know,” she cried lowering her head and awaiting death. “If you let me go I’ll work overtime to find who has it and get it back to you. I fucking promise."

“Morgan, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear sweet cheeks. And with your criminal history, I know you would want to do it.” Another man dressed in an all white Gucci suit with a shiny balled head emerged from the darkness. “You were a con artist, weren’t you?”

Morgan shook her head. She always said one day her wayward ways would get her fucked up one day but she never knew it would be like this. The well dressed man cuffed her chin bringing her eyes up to his looking deep into them. His smiled gleamed like gold and he laughed so sinister it would have made the devil’s skin crawl. Removing his hand from her chin, he fondled her 32B cups a bit as she winced and looked away with disgust written on her face.

“You will get me what I want sweet Morgan. Or, I will tear that round ass and those perky tits to shreds before I gut you like a fish,” the man growled in her face. “Do you fucking understand me?”

“Yeah, you ain’t got no family in the states so I doubt anybody will miss you,” the other man laughed.

“I’ll do it. I’ll find your shit.” Morgan shook her head in agreement. “I’ll do whatever you want me to just please don’t fucking kill me.”

“Good and don’t take too long doing it either. I’d hate to see a pretty face like that go to waste. Give the bitch a cell.” The Gucci suit disappeared back into the darkness as the man took his cell from his pocket and stuck it down deep into Morgan’s perkd up cleavage. “Because I like you and you have such a pretty face, you have ninety days. And not a day later.”

“Guess you just got your ass saved huh bitch?” The other man chuckled as she grimaced.

“Let me the fuck outta here already so I can get to work.” She worked her arms even though her hands were pinned behind the wooden chair.

As the man released her, a shadow could be seen leaving the fire escape. They both ran to the window to catch a glimpse of the fleeing eavesdropper. It was so dark out that they couldn’t see anyone. The man handed her his extra 9mm and gave her the nod to follow him down the stairs to try and catch the man with him. Morgan went down the front stairs from her apartment while the other man went down the fire escape just in case he was still in the vicinity. Morgan met the man on the side of the building by the alley but by the time both of them got there, the nosey person was gone.

“You stupid bitch. You let him get away.” The man’s viscous Spanish accent made Morgan want to vomit. Both of the men spoke in the same tongue, which annoyed the shit out her but forced her to imprint it in her brain for future reference.

“You know, you should really start treating women with a little respect—“

“Awe fuck respect,” he sniggered.

“Especially the ones who are holding a fucking gun.” With that she planted two bullets in his dome with the quickness before walking off heading past her apartment building towards the subway.

 

Chapter 1

One Month Later

Quince

 

“I know that punk ass motherfucka is in there. Talking about this his momma’s house. This ain’t your damn momma’s house Quince! Bring your raggedy ass outside.” Her voice was like music to my ears.

Yeah, she got crazy as fuck after I gave her the dick but she was just the ticket I needed to get rid of this other bitch. She had been at my house for three days and she was trying to play wifey. The bitch was way too attached to me. I hated that shit. The chick was cooking and cleaning while she walked around my house in nothing but my tank tops. It was time for her to take her ass back to the crib. The crazy one at the door wasn’t letting up though. She continued to bang on my door and ring the bell like she had lost her mind.

“Aye, baby girl. Why don’t you go to the door and straighten that shit out for me, won’t you?” I sweet talked her as she easily slid up out the king sized canopy bed and headed downstairs.

“It’s 8:30am in the fucking morning and somebody out here acting a damn fool. It better be the Illinois State Lottery with a big ass check. That’s for damn sure.” The clingy chick headed for the door whisking it open as I stood at the top of the stairs watching the scene play out. “What bitch?”

“Bitch? Oh I’ve got your bitch. Where Q. at?” The crazy chick tried to shove her way through the door past the clingy one.

“Um, excuse you bitch. My man is unavailable. Is there something I can help you with?”

It was then that I realized I hadn’t taken the time out to learn either of their names. I never did. I barely fucked with the same chick for more than a week. After that I was moving on to the next one. When bitches knew too much about you that’s when they were able to use shit against you when shit hit the fan. I didn’t have time for that type of shit.

They always asked the typical shit.
What do you do?
Bitch I get money.
Who you stay with?
That’s irrelevant.
You spending cash?
Maybe, if the head right. I guess one would say that I was a self-proclaimed ladies man. None of these tricks was on shit but fucking a nigga for money anyway. So I treated them how they showed me they should be treated. Meanwhile they would never resist anything I asked of them. Standing 5’9”, 200 pounds of solid muscle, baby face with a goatee, low cut balled fade, with a smile as wide and money as long as my dick.

“You can step to the side so I can find my man. That’s what the fuck you can do.” The crazy one pushed her way through looking around. “Hmm. So this is how the son of a bitch is living huh? All snazzy with leather furniture and shit. Too bad all I saw was the front seat of his Navigator.”

“Maybe that was all you were worth,” The clingy one stated as she folded her arms catching a glimpse of me at the top of the stairs. “But anyway, you need to get your ass up out of here. You’re looking real pathetic right now.”

“Bitch you don’t know me. You don’t anything about me. I know Q better bring his ass out here before I break all this shit in his house. Q. Q,” the crazy girl shouted.

“Aye, you need to leave before I call the motherfucking police on your dumb ass. And, are these babies in these car seats on the porch? Are you crazy or something?” The clingy one asked pointing outside the door.

When I heard the word police that was my cue to step in. “Aye, aye you need to get them babies and step your ignorant ass back outside that door man. Straight up.”

“Q. where the fuck have you been? You said you was going to take me and the girls to the zoo and to the their doctor's appointments. Why you ain’t answering my calls?” the crazy girl shot up to me.

I could see why I banged her. She had virtually no hips or ass but her double d’s sat up so nice and perky I just had to rub my face in them motherfuckas. But when I found out shorty could suck a mean dick, I had to cuff her for about two days. I told her what she wanted to hear, tossed her a couple of dollars and told her to bounce.

She wasn’t supposed to come back here acting all skittish and shit. Usually the bitches just dropped off the land, realizing that it was over. It was what it was. But this bitch couldn’t seem to separate her pussy from being dickmatized. Still she kept her dark chocolate skin smooth as silk and her short wavy hair cut slick. I loved her swag but the bitch was crazier than a loony bin. Good thing none of these females knew me by anything but Q.

“Man, you knew what this was man. You said your babies needed some Jordan’s so you did what you had to do to get ‘em. Right?” I pointed to the car seats with two pair of pink and gray Jordan’s sticking out of each one.

“But I thought we had much more than that?”

“Look, you trippin’. You’ve gotta go.” I shoved her a bit towards the door. “Look at you. You not even being a good mom right now, girl. Get your kids. Worry about your kids and they’re newborns too.”

“How’s about you worry about your kids, Q?” She popped her neck snatching her arm from my grasp.

“What? Bitch you crazy if you trying to say them my kids. You can beat it with that shit. Now it’s really time to go.”

The clingy bitch helped me escort the crazy one out the door. But she wasn’t going without a fight. She quickly grabbed her babies and was literally trying to throw them inside the door chanting that they were mine and she would hit me with child support if I didn’t step up to the plate and take care of them. That bitch was acting like something out of the Misery movie. She wasn’t about to pin two babies on me that I knew wasn’t from my seed.

“Bitch don’t fucking touch me. This is my man and my house. He’s gonna take care of these fucking kids.” The crazy bitch snatched the hair of the clingy one and quickly ended up in the grass in a brawl with her.

Ass and tits flew in circles as they fought, grabbing each other’s hair pulling and scratching. My eyes turned from the whack entertainment for a moment noticing the beautiful round brown ass sitting on the porch next door. I had been trying to get at shorty ever since I moved in three months ago but she was having none of it. I didn’t know what it was but I was drawn to her.

She wasn’t my typical lean figure eight type. Maybe 5’5”, 195 pounds with tits and ass for weeks. Her hair was down her back stopping just in the middle but I could tell it was all hers, no weave. She was chunky but damn if I didn’t crave her ass. I probably only wanted her because she didn’t want me. No bitch ever turned me down but every time I saw her she pretended as if I didn't exist. I had to bang her to get my lust for her out of my system.

“Aye, Aye. Are y’all hoes done yet?” I waved becoming annoyed that this scene was bringing unwanted attention to my pad.

“Hoe? Who you calling a hoe, Q.?” The clingy one jumped up stomping the crazy one, one last time.

“You. Y’all can hang that shit up and get on the bus together. How about that? She needs someone to help her carry these car seats anyway.” I turned away noticing the girl next door was gone. Damn.

BOOK: Cartel Dreams: A Love Story
7.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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