Cartel Dreams: A Love Story (3 page)

Five minutes later, I was across the street heading back over to Creed watching the females shake their asses while the thirsty ass niggas tried to come up on some ‘one night stand’ ass. The doors had only been open a short year and three months but it was already beginning to look like a promising venture that I wanted to get back into. There were three bars on every side of the room with the DJ booth on the last side. The club's capacity only held about twenty thousand people but I was eager to expand when the time was right.

Dancers hung from poles dancing only in bikinis. It was no strip joint though. It was a classy establishment that garnered the business of Puffy, Miley Cyrus, and Latoya Luckett whenever they made it to Chicago. Creed used to be my heart but like any other disloyal bitch, I had to cancel her ass. I sold my portion of the club back to the owner because my heart wasn’t in it anymore and neither was my money.

It damn near drained me dry if I hadn’t pulled out in time a few months back. It was looked as if it would be a good business to get back into once the owner, Fetty, proved hex ould handle the finances better than before. Hell, I've even contemplated buying this place. I was no longer in charge yet whenever I came up there, the workers still thought I was running shit.

“Hey boss man. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“What you need beautiful?” I responded.

“Let me show you.” She grabbed my hand leading me back towards the VIP section as my phone rang. Once we got to the room and I placed my phone to my ear, shorty pinned me against the wall, dropped to her knees, and pulled my dick out with no hesitation.

“Man, fuck the dumb shit. Get that shit over to them niggas and make sure it moves. Ya feel me?” I spat putting my hand on the back of shorty’s head guiding her motion back and forth on my dick. “Aye, I’ll hit you back.”

I didn't even remember her name but I would probably remember the way that tongue felt forever. She sucked a nigga’s dick like she was sucking hard to get that motherfucka to pop. Shorty slobbered on my ten-inch dick as if it were a juicy melting Popsicle. My head bumped against the wall feeling my cum rise to the tip but I held it back for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth surrounding my shaft. She caved her cheeks in creating a black hole affect around my shit forcing me to skeet all in her mouth.

"Swallow that shit," I ordered, pulling on her hair roughly tugging her head up towards the ceiling. "Let me see that shit."

Shorty opened her mouth sticking her tongue out assuring me that every drop of them kids went down her throat. My fingers pinched her cheek letting her know she had done a good job as I pulled my True Religion jeans back around my waist buckling them securely. Shorty fixed her bra back around her perky double d's tucking away her milk dud sized nipples.

"That shit was good as hell girl. You just might be the real MVP of that shit." I reached into my pocket pulling out a roll of cash removing the band and peeling out three hundred dollar bills to hand to her.

"Thank you baby. But I'd much rather see you again. Is that possible?" She said tugging at her thong turning to show me the pretty round brown apple sitting just below her back.

"We'll see. If I need you, I know where to find you." I winked my eye before giving her a playful slap on that ass.

"I'll be looking forward to it boss. I mean Q." She headed towards the VIP door cracking it slightly letting the loud jeers and rap music to seep into the room. "By the way, Bunny is just my dancer name. My real name is Queenie. Queenie Hogan."

She winked as she left the room. I didn't give a fuck about what she was saying. In my eyes, she was just another hired dancer working at my old club, a hype girl. Too many hoes wanted to get at me since a nigga looked good and kept mad dough and shit but none of them could be trusted. I only trusted two bitches, Thunder and Lightening, the two big brawny blue nose pits I had posted back at the crib.

They guarded every house I moved into and my dough with their lives. Those bitches were trained to bite on contact when I wasn't there and barely barked when I wasn’t there. I watched them on my surveillance cameras every day. Real killers moved in silence. They knew no one entered their cage unless I told them too. The chicks lucky enough to suck this dick pretty much only got a couple of dollars here or there, maybe even a bag or two but as far as me making one of them hoes my wife they would be waiting for a lifetime for that shit.

"What up, Montana? We good over there yet bro?" I asked placing my ear to the phone.

“I just made it here, Quince. These niggas were low as fuck but they’re good now. I’m making a withdrawal though,” Montana spoke informing me in code that he was picking up the daily drop from one of the five territories that were low on our product.

“Cool. Don’t forget to go to Chinatown to gas up the Escalade,” I responded back letting him know to take the money to So Ho Chinese where our Chinese connects helped us wash the money. “Handle your business.”

“Now see that’s the shit I need to be doing,” Montana growled. “Giving orders.”

“Yeah well, you’re not. Hold this shit down out here nigga. Let me handle the big boy shit right now.” I focused on remaining calm with him even though he irked the shit out of me sometimes. “In due time, we gon’ eat better my nigga. Just chill right now.”

Montana was always hungry but he was too eager to sit at the same table I ate at. It was crazy cause we got about the same money but he wanted the same power as me too. He and I went to high school together. If I could trust no one to have my back, I knew I could trust him. Times were hard for two young black males growing up back then in the Englewood neighborhood on the Southside of Chicago. The ruthless side.

We were only sixteen when we dropped out of high school, starting on the amateur edge of the business moving small quantities of weight just to get by. His pops had ran out on his mom and instead of her getting over him she got under a needle, shooting up every chance she got. I never knew my mom or pops. They left me with my grandma when I was just a baby. She raised me until I found her. That shit still fucked with me from time to time. That day changed my life in more ways than one.

****The Past****

“Don’t forget your homework tomorrow. There will be no makeups because I’ve already given you all enough time to finish this project. Quince McCarter and Montana Black, that includes you two as well. Don’t come in here tomorrow acting like you didn’t here what I said,” Mrs. Jamison scoffed tilting her head down to gawk at us above her oval shaped glasses.

“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 65
th
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.