Return of the Cartier Cartel (20 page)

“Well, that makes me feel a little better, but you still got to close up all these loose ends. Go and see Jason and see what’s really good. If he’s all talk and no action, then Head might be able to give him a pass. If he still got larceny in his heart, then lullaby his ass.”

Cartier did as she was told and hopped back in the Benz to go and see Jason. She truly hoped he was ready to throw in the towel. When she walked into the rehabilitation center, she was startled by his appearance. Although it was clear that he’d lost weight from before he got shot, he no longer looked emaciated. He’d definitely gotten his weight back up. The metal wire and cast were removed, and he now had full use of his hands, evident from the fun he was having with a video game on an X-box.

When he noticed Cartier standing there, all the excitement from winning in the game drained from his face. “What the fuck you doing here?”

“You tell me.”

Jason stared Cartier from head to toe with contempt and then tossed his control to the floor. “You don’t gotta run up here now. I told Trina that I want y’all out of my house.”

“And go where?”

“You can go to hell, for all I care. Oh, my bad, that’s where you thought I was going, right? Isn’t that what you said? Fuck that bitch in hell? Like it’s some resort or something.” Jason grimaced. “Like muthafuckas wanna be in hell fucking bitches.”

Cartier laughed. “So you’re really saying you want to kick your kids out of the house?”

“Cartier, you’re not really getting it. I don’t give a fuck about you. You’re dead to me. Fucking dead. Do you hear me, bitch?”

Cartier was really trying to contain her anger, but the bitch word struck a chord. “Look, I’m here to drop off your car, but you can forget about me and the kids getting out of our house. This is what happens when you cheat on your wife—you lose the house and custody of your kids.”

“Ain’t this a bitch!” Jason snorted in disgust. “You coming in here like you’re an angel, when I hear you got a nigga up under your hood.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tell that nigga when I get outta here, I’ma see him too.”

“Oh, now you adding more people to your hit list?” Cartier laughed, though somewhat surprised Jason knew about her and Head.

Jason’s eyes hooded over in anger, and he bit the inside of his lip, a habit he’d had for years. He half-hoped that she would deny the affair, as he would have done, or at least look like she was sorry.

But the woman who stood before him looked like she didn’t have a care in the world, was bursting with happiness. That was something he couldn’t accept. He’d spent four months in a rehabilitation center being stuck with needles and swallowing meds while she was out on the streets getting her freak on. Jason couldn’t understand why he felt more contempt for Cartier and her new man than anger for her filling him with bullets. Every time his mind wandered to the things Head could be doing to his wife, an inexplicable madness would come over him.

“Keep thinking you got the upper hand. You waltzing in here like you a rock star, when you look like you got a disease you can’t get rid of. You don’t look as cute as you think you look. I heard that nigga dick you swallowing got the monster!”

Jason’s jealousy didn’t sway Cartier. She knew he was grasping at straws. “Now you know how it feels to be on the receiving end. And each time Head pushes his large dick into me, ironically I thank you ’cause, had you not fucked up, I would have never got to experience a real man.”

“A real man, huh?” Jason’s laugh was coarse and filled with anguish. “I had more pussy than—”

“Oh, grow up!” Cartier scolded. “No one cares. . .”

“I should have never looked for qualities in you that I knew never existed. I mean, you fucked my baby momma. What kind of shit was you on?”

“And she was also better in bed than you. So thank you for that one as well.”

Jason couldn’t believe his ears. He was sure his last remark would have caused her to grimace but she kept going hard.

“You comin’ in here talkin’ tough ’cause a nigga ain’t one hundred yet.”

“No one’s going on that sympathy tour with you. You’re pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” Jason snorted. “Ma, please believe me when I tell you that you have less than a week to relocate. I won’t give you the same warning twice.”

“Jay, if you were going to do something to me, there wouldn’t be any warnings. You move in silence, remember?”

That Cartier had pulled Jason’s punk card infuriated him beyond control. In one swift movement, he’d leapt from the bed and wrapped his hands firmly around her neck and began to squeeze with such force and intensity, his weak arm began to throb, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need a gun to kill Cartier. Her arrogance had provoked him beyond his wildest imagination. He wanted to squeeze until her eyes popped out of her head. Then he wanted to stomp her guts out and make her feel the pain he was feeling.

Cartier’s knees felt like marshmallows, and she went limp in Jason’s hands. Desperately she tried to scratch and pull at his face, but she was losing oxygen rapidly. Just before she blacked out, she felt Jason release her, and she collapsed on the cold tiles. Cartier sucked in as much air as she could.

Briefly she thought about lifting up her skirt and pulling out her new .25 and finishing what she started, but she just couldn’t. Instead, she tossed him the keys to his car. “We’ll be gone before you get out of here!”

“You’re saying that like you’re doing me a favor. Getting out of my house is only part of it. You better leave town, because this beef ain’t over until I say it’s over!”

“I came here thinking that maybe we could squash this beef for the sake of our kids, but I see you wanna play rough. You can’t see past your own selfish vendetta. You and I can deal with each other when you come out. If that means exchanging bullets until the best shot wins, then so be it, but, in the meantime, I still need to get at Ryan and Marisol.”

Jason had literally forgotten about the Ryan situation after Cartier had ambushed him in the motel. He still couldn’t understand why she just wouldn’t let it go. Shanine and Monya were dead and buried, and the last thing on his mind was going after Ryan. Head was now at the top of his list.

“I’ma tell you something I should have told you a long time ago. I don’t give a fuck about no Ryan. He was never a priority for me.”

The revelation stunned Cartier. Once again, just when she thought she knew Jason, he’d say or do something that made her question how she could have fallen in love with such a selfish man. It was always about his needs and his needs only.

“Again, what about your kids? Are they a priority?”

“Stop bringing up my kids, because you know what they mean to me.”

“Do they mean more to you than your mistress? Huh? Because if that’s true, then I need an address on Marisol. And each second you think about whether or not to give it to me, your kids are in danger.”

“What are you talking about? Stop talking in riddles. I’m sick of this soap opera drama.”

Cartier was seething. Slowly she stood to her feet to face Jason, the negative energy percolating around the room.

“The other day I was chased down the parkway with our kids in the car. They shot the car—”

“What? What the fuck you say?”

“That’s right. They shot your car up in broad daylight with the kids in the back seat,” she lied. “We all could have been killed, and you’re saying Ryan was never a priority to you? Had you concentrated on taking him out, instead of fucking Jalissa, you wouldn’t have two traumatized kids at home.”

Jason went berserk, screaming and throwing wild punches in the air.

Cartier watched the process with trepidation. She’d never seen him so angry. He was foaming at the mouth. But she welcomed his anger. She needed him to want to kill Ryan with as much urgency as she had. Between her, The Cartel, Head, and now Jason gunning for Ryan and Marisol, she felt secure that she wouldn’t have to continually look over her shoulders.

“Meet me at your mom’s house tomorrow around six. And bring The Cartel. I’ll make some calls and bring in Wonderful and Blake. We’re gonna flush them out. And get the fuck out of that house today. Not because of me. I don’t know what they know. You said some Hispanics ran up in the crib once. I dunno; Jalissa could have been setting me up all along.”

Cartier didn’t have any intention of getting out of her five-bedroom mansion. Ever. Especially since there weren’t any Hispanic burglars. She wanted to make Jason feel guilty about the Jalissa situation. Up until that moment, he hadn’t shown any remorse. Instead of hitting him with a barrage of insults, she remained silent and let her glare do all the talking.

Cartier left the hospital with mixed feelings about whether or not to trust Jason. She decided that even if he hated her and loved Jalissa, under no circumstances would he want anything to happen to his kids. So until Ryan and Marisol were dead, she was sure he would now make them a priority. She wasn’t stupid enough to trust him with her life, but the life of their kids was a whole different ballgame.

And if Jason even looked like his trigger finger was itching in the wrong direction, she was prepared to finish what she’d started.

Chapter 25

Justify My Thug

The two men met in a secluded area at an exclusive golf course in Mahwah, New Jersey. Head’s caddy drove him to the ninth hole, where his guest was patiently awaiting his arrival. Clad in white-and-blue golf shoes, Izod pullover, and khaki shorts, Head smiled graciously as he extended his hand for a shake.

“It’s been a while, man.”

“True indeed.” Head pulled out a Cuban cigar and lit it. He wasn’t one who smoked daily; only when he felt a need to relax and enjoy life. “I should get at you for not coming to see me as soon as I got out.”

“Shit was thick out here. I was trying to get up with you, but you know . . .”

Head looked at him sideways. “You lucky I don’t pump three in you right now for not holding me down while I was locked up.”

“What?” His guest’s eyes popped open in surprise. “I hit you off each month with that paper.”

Head shook his head in acknowledgment. “That’s not what I needed. I had my own money. I needed my family there for me. You know when Nut got murdered you became like a nephew to me, and I vowed to always look out for you. I had to hear about your come-up from muthafuckas who didn’t even know you.”

“I feel you, man, but it’s not like I keep a nine-to-five. A nigga dirty, and I didn’t want to be running to no fed joint.”

Head looked deeply into his eyes and saw his sincerity. “So, yo, what are we going to do about this problem?”

Ryan shook his head rapidly. “You know Marisol wants Cartier dead. She thinks that she murked Jalissa.”

“She did.”

“That’s what I thought. Well, until she’s gone, Marisol won’t let me rest. All day and all night she keeps hounding me.”

“And Cartier wants you dead. Not only does she want revenge for her clique, but now she feels her life is in jeopardy.”

“Yo, I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to shorty the other day. That was all Marisol. And, truth be told, she’s going sick because she missed.”

Head exhaled and blew a cloud of smoke in the air. The sweet-tasting cigar had quenched his craving. “So, you gotta keep Marisol in check, and I’ll handle Cartier.”

“What about Jason?”

“Fuck that nigga!” Head spat. “He lightweight. I’m about to get at him any day if he don’t keep his distance.”

“Nah, let me handle duke. Been waiting to get at him for a minute now, but ever since Cartier tried to flat-line him, I can’t find him.”

“That’s what I’m here for. He’s over at Rosa Parks Rehabilitation Center up in the Bronx.”

“That nigga that close?”

“Hell yeah.” Head tossed the hundred-dollar cigar after only a few tokes. He then put on his fitted leather gloves and pulled out a number five golf club.

“Ryan, don’t take our relationship for granted. Once you put Jason to rest, you and Marisol gotta bounce outta state.”

“No doubt.”

“Where are you going to take her?”

“Florida. I bought a phat-ass crib down there. Plush enough for her to forget about her sister.”

“Yo, how did you feel about Jalissa fucking Jason right under your nose? That nigga could have slumped you.”

Ryan pounded his fist into his palm. “I think about that shit every day. I was so mad when I found out, I went upside Marisol’s head. She swears she didn’t know about it, but that’s too hard to believe.”

“Of course, she knew. Broads tell each other when they’re going to the bathroom.”

There was a pregnant pause as the two men thought briefly about their ladies.

“So you really feeling Cartier, huh?”

Head smiled. “That’s my heart.”

“Yeah, she’s cool, but you know I like them Puerto Rican mommies.” Ryan downplayed his relationship with Cartier, careful not to say an ill word.

“You like anything with a big ass. Who you foolin’?”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, that too.”

“So when’s your departure date?”

“We’re jetting in two days. I told Marisol that Cartier would be taken care of tonight.”

Head took a healthy swing and hit the ball, which flew very close to the tenth hole. “You know after today we’ll never kick it again.”

Ryan lowered his head as nostalgic memories came gushing back. He knew that as long as they both chose the woman they loved, they’d have to keep their relationship a secret. If Marisol knew that Ryan’s “uncle” was fucking with Cartier, that Ryan wasn’t going to kill him because Cartier was off limits, she’d flip. And if Cartier knew Ryan was like a “nephew” to Head, and that he was untouchable, even after he’d killed Shanine and Monya, she’d lose it as well. There would never be any peace. When Head had called and told him—not asked him—to relocate, Ryan knew he only had one choice.

****

That night Head came to get Cartier at her home to take her to dinner. He said he’d found out a few things, and that they’d kick it in person, not on the phone. When he pulled up on a Ducati motorcycle, the whole neighborhood could hear his engine roaring down the block.