Return of the Cartier Cartel (9 page)

“Yo, what’s this about? Is this about you feeling bad about Big Mike being laid to rest, or is this about you just wanting to kick it with Bam?”

Cartier didn’t understand the question. “It’s about both.”

“Stop lying! This me you talkin’ to. You don’t give a fuck about Big Mike. Nor do you give a fuck that Bam had to witness me putting a bullet in his head. All you care about is that Bam ain’t around to gossip with you, or go get that doobie hair wrap— whatever you girls call it—anymore, and now you want to buy back her friendship!”

“That’s not true.”

“Whatever.” Jason turned back over and pulled the covers over his head.

Cartier refused to leave. “Well, I don’t care what you think my motivation is, but the fact still remains that Bam needs more money. That’s the right thing to do. Shit, we didn’t even move all those keys. That’s at least another two hundred. As far as I’m concerned, that’s free money, so we don’t have to be greedy.”

Jason sat straight up. “Ain’t shit about that money free!” He couldn’t believe his ears. Jalissa was going against her own blood for him, and here, Cartier was taking up for a friend. “That money got twenty-five to life written all over it, and I’ll be damned if I’m giving Bam another muthafuckin’ dime. I’m telling you, Cartier, you better check your friend, ’fore they find her silly ass floating in the Hudson River.”

“Jason, you’re working my nerves, and it’s just nine o’clock in the morning. Bam ain’t just a chick off the street. She’s already proven herself to us for what she did to her man, and honestly, if I were in her shoes, I can’t say it would have played out the same way. So I don’t care how you feel about the situation. Bam deserves more. So, where’s the money?”

“I needed it to buy some work.”

Cartier thought quickly. Did this muthafucka just say he took the money to buy work, when there’s a safe full of drugs that ain’t even sold yet?

She began slowly. “Some work?” Although she wanted to flip, she was going to be calm for once in her life, until she found out what was really going on. “Ain’t there enough work in the closet?”

“Look, stop questioning me! I’m fuckin’ moving heroin now, not just coke. I took the fuckin’ money—all of it—to handle my business, and Bam ain’t getting shit. When I’m done, we’re going to be set for life. I’m talking like a six- or seven-million-dollar return. Now, can you go and make yourself useful? A nigga hungry. Can you go and make me breakfast?”

“Eat your muthafuckin’ fingers, bitch!” Cartier yelled, and stormed out of their bedroom.

Jason just shook his head. He knew where he could get a good meal.

****

It had been weeks since Cartier’s and Jason’s last argument, and months since they’d made love. As the realization hit Cartier, she couldn’t understand why she felt threatened. That night she made a delicious meal and called Jason and asked him to come home early for dinner. She put on the new lingerie from Victoria’s Secret, flattering in color and texture. But as the hours slipped from early evening to the wee hours of the morning, she knew he was up to his old ways.

Cartier awoke in the morning with puffy eyes from crying herself to sleep, to a husband that reeked of alcohol. She didn’t know what to do or say, but she didn’t want another screaming match. And she missed Jason so much.

She moved closer to him and began to massage his penis until it got erect. Groggily he opened his eyes and pushed her away.

“But I want you,” Cartier said. “Let’s make love.”

Jason pretended he didn’t hear her as he fell back to sleep on his stomach.

****

For months Bam probably got less than four hours of sleep each night. The grief assassin would haunt her dreams with visions of Big Mike’s murder. Within a matter of hours, her future with Big Mike had gone up in a mushroom cloud, and Bam couldn’t put her finger on how it took that turn for the worse. What could she have done differently to get a different outcome? Should she have told Big Mike that he was suspected of killing her friends and to watch his back? All he thought was that he was supplying information for them to get Ryan. Selfishly, Bam didn’t want to reveal that because she knew he wouldn’t come near her with a ten-foot pole, and he would have been justified.

Should she have told Jason to fuck off and taken her chances that he was bluffing? Would Jason have really pulled the trigger on her?

Besides, would Cartier have allowed Jason to pull the trigger on her? Today, Bam still couldn’t answer that.

Every night the loud, thunder-like blast from Jason’s .357 would jolt Bam out of her sleep. Drenched in sweat, she would get up and walk around her apartment, clicking on televisions and lights.

She’d gone to the doctor, who’d prescribed Ambien to help her sleep, but when she complained that the maximum 4-mg dosage wasn’t working, he told her she could be suffering from depression, and recommended a therapist.

Bam laughed in his face. What could a therapist say to undo Big Mike’s murder?

The doctor said, “Bernice, sometimes in life you can’t choose your path, but you can choose how you walk it. There isn’t anything wrong with going to see a therapist. It could possibly make your walk in life a little less cumbersome. Think about it.”

Bam didn’t want to think about it. She knew her life was a series of perfect storms, and just as she’d gotten through ugly events in the past, she’d get past this too.

****

At first, Cartier wanted to deflect her problems with her husband, but now she was at the breaking point. It was early April, and a random rainstorm came roaring through New York. Cartier was trapped in the house, sitting on her terrace, watching the waves hit the shore. Instead of living her best life now, appreciating her new home, healthy kids, and the fact that she and Li’l Momma had mended their friendship and were on better terms than ever before, wasn’t enough.

Cartier wanted it all. She wanted a strong marriage and her friend back. Slowly, she and Bam had begun talking again, but it wasn’t the same. Cartier knew it would take time. Every time she asked Bam to go with her to Sophie’s, she would have an excuse.

Jason had resorted to not coming home two, three nights a week, and all the arguing and fighting couldn’t get him to stop being so disrespectful. There was always an excuse the next day when he’d come home. He’d either fallen asleep at Wonderful’s house, too drunk to come home, or was so wrapped up in a drug deal that he couldn’t stop to call her and tell her that he’d be out all night. Or—and Cartier couldn’t believe he’d said this one—he just needed alone time and copped a hotel room all by himself just to think. The laundry list of excuses was growing.

Cartier kicked him out, tossing his clothes on the front lawn. He gladly loaded them into his car and didn’t dial her one time begging to come home. This didn’t go unnoticed by Cartier. Her mother’s wise words would resonate through her head continually.

“Don’t kick him out, Cartier,” she’d said, “unless you’re really ready for him to go. Because, I promise you, there’s a woman out there with her door wide open just waiting to pick up where you left off. Now, if you’re ready to move on, then kick him to the curb and start your life over. But if you’re doing it to make a statement, or get a reaction, you might not like what he dishes back at you.”

When Trina had said those words to Cartier, it went in one ear and out the next. In a blind rage, Cartier kicked him out, and it was barely forty-eight hours later before she wanted him back. She couldn’t understand why, or how. All she knew was that she did. When he didn’t call, she got physically sick. She wanted to know who he was messing around with, and why wasn’t he kissing her butt to come back home.

She called Bam. “Bam, listen, I know things are strained between us, but I really need you right now.”

“Cartier, I was just about to head out. Could I call you back?”

Cartier knew she could go downstairs and talk to Trina, but she didn’t want motherly wisdom; she wanted to kick it with females her own age, friends who were there from the beginning. She knew she could call Li’l Momma, but Bam was always there for her, from the get-go.

When Jason was stepping out on her with Monya, Bam held Cartier down. She made her feel better while she suffered in silence in a prison cell. So, if anyone knew how Cartier truly felt about Jason, it was Bam.

“Jason is cheating again,” Cartier blurted out, and her voice broke. As tears began to gush down her cheeks, Cartier couldn’t believe she was breaking down so quickly and openly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I catch him cheating again.”

At first Bam wondered if this was a ploy to put their friendship back on track. But when she heard Cartier sobbing from the other end, she knew this was real.

“Why you think that?”

“Actually I know it! I kicked him out of the house weeks ago, and he hasn’t as much as called me to see how the kids are doing.”

“So he hasn’t been home in weeks?”

“Nope. He’s been acting differently, and I promise you, Bam, whoever she is, she means a lot to him.”

“What? Why are you crying? I know you not lettin’ no chick trump you. You’ve dealt with Jason cheating before, Cartier, and you know as I do, he always comes back home to you. There ain’t a girl out there that could hold his heart. He’s just being stubborn.”

“It’s not that I’m folding. I’m telling you that this time it’s different. I don’t know who she is, but Jason wasn’t touching me anymore. He was grumpy all the time, and whenever I would ask him a question, any question, he was flipping on me. That’s not Jason . . . not the Jason I fell in love with.”

“You sure it’s not this beef? Maybe he has a lot on his mind.”

“It’s not just his beef, Bam. It’s our beef, and he’s not the only one who’s affected. So I know that’s not it. I’m telling you, he’s seeing someone.”

Bam walked to her refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Moscato wine. It was barely ten o’clock in the morning. She poured her breakfast. “Well, if I were you, I’d call him and tell him you want him to come home.”

“I can’t do that,” Cartier said weakly, although that’s exactly what she wanted to do. “I’d play myself, right?”

Bam took a large gulp. “You’re his wife. Who the fuck cares? In relationships we’re supposed to play ourselves for the one we love here and there. You’ve already proven your point by kicking him out. Now his playtime is over. Don’t allow him to be a free agent out there for too long to really get attached to anyone. I think that would be a big mistake. And a few weeks, in my opinion, is giving some chick too much wifey time.”

“You haven’t heard anything on the streets?”

“If I did, I’m not sure I would tell you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The last thing I confided in you got me involved in a murder, and my man assassinated!”

Cartier took the low blow like a champ. She knew it would take a long time for Bam to fully get over what happened to Big Mike, but right now her marriage was on the line, and she wanted Bam to be her sister girl, not some bitter chick ready to rehash something that couldn’t be undone.

“Bam, I know it’ll take you a while to understand where my head was at, but if Shanine and Monya could be here, they’d tell you that you did the right thing.”

“How do you know what they’d say? What gives you the authority to speak for the dead?” Bam said, her voice laced with anger.

“You know what? You’re right. I can’t speak for them, nor can I undo what’s already been done. Once that trigger was pulled, it was like a bell ringing. It couldn’t be unrung. I’ve already apologized, Bam. I don’t know what else I can say.”

“But had you only listened to me, then we wouldn’t have to have this conversation. If you had just trusted me and my instincts, Big Mike wouldn’t be dead.”

“Bam, let me make this clear for this one last time. I’m not saying, nor will I ever say, that Big Mike was blameless. We won’t ever be able to know that with certainty. The only people who truly know what happened aren’t talking or aren’t able to talk.” Cartier paused. She didn’t want to say anything to jeopardize the road back to friendship, but she couldn’t allow Bam to think they had killed an innocent man. “But you keep bringing this up as if I could fix it like I fix my hair, and that won’t ever happen. It’s done, and we have to live with it and, hopefully, get past this together. I need you, Bam. And I hope you need me in your life too.”

Bam wasn’t ready to answer that, so she walked the conversation back around the block. “So, what are you going to do about Jason? Are you going to just let him keep cheating on you?”

“Well, right now it’s only speculation. I don’t really know for sure that he’s cheating. I just got a feeling.”

“And we all know that our feelings, a woman’s intuition, will never steer us wrong. So, you know he’s cheating. You can either give him a call and tell him to come home, or file for divorce.”

“I don’t just want to throw him away.”

“Well, then you’ve solved your own dilemma. Get to dialing.”

Cartier could tell Bam was ready to end the conversation, but she wanted to hold on to each moment and make it last longer. “I do want to put the spark back in our marriage.”

“Girl, you know how to seduce a man. Cook him a nice dinner and suck his dick. And don’t forget to swallow the cum. Get frisky, chick. Men love a freak.”

Cartier laughed slightly. If it was only that easy, she thought. “Maybe we could go away where there won’t be any distractions, and we could maybe renew our vows or something. Maybe run to Vegas for a few days. Truthfully, I’ve always wanted to get married, for real, for real. Like not behind bars, you know, all the whispers behind the scenes from bitches saying that getting married while locked down wasn’t the real deal. What do you think, Bam?”

“I think that’s hot. He’ll love it. And while you’re planning your trip, I’ll keep my ears to the street to see if I hear anything.” Bam was ready to agree with anything at that moment. She’d already tossed back half the bottle of wine and had gotten bored with Cartier’s conversation. Why should she be excited about weddings and vacations when she could have been making the same plans?