Cartier Cartel (9 page)

"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.

"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."