Cartier Cartel (33 page)

He peered at the sexy, young stripper and wondered how old she was.
Her dark-chocolate skin looked shiny from the stage and felt like silk when he
glided his hands down her shapely thighs. He couldn't tell whether her hair was
real or a weave, and he liked her voice when she spoke-soft and flirty.

"How old are you?"Jason asked.

"I'm nineteen," she began. "I've been doing this shit for a year to pay for
school."

Jason had heard that lie before, but he decided not to judge her. He knew
how hard it was out here for women having to use what they had to survive.
"What school you go to?"

Giggling, she replied, "I'm not in school, yet. I'm thinking about going to
Hofstra for accounting."

"If you're not in school, then how are you stripping to pay for college?"
Jason nosily asked. "Did I miss something?"

"Nah, what I meant is that I'm saving up all my money and then I'll enroll
in college. I can't concentrate on college and dance as well. So, I'll do this for
another year and then quit all together. I don't want to stop and then have to
start again. Shit, I got bills and when I enroll, I'll also need money to pay for
my living expenses."

"Don't they got financial aid for all that?"

Again, she giggled. "I guess..."

"What's so funny?"Jason asked, annoyed.

"I don't know," Pinky replied, as she slid her small hand up toward Jason's
flaccid penis.

It took his dick more than a quick hand movement to get hard. He was
thirty-one years old and a heavy drinker. But he still appreciated the gesture.

"Why do they call you Pinky, and not Blacky?" Jason wanted to know.
He wasn't trying to be rude, yet didn't care if she got offended. He loved dark
chocolate girls. The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice.

Yet again, she giggled and Jason became slightly annoyed.

"Because my pussy lips are so pink," she retorted.

Jason, with Pinky trailing behind, walked directly to the V.I.P. line and
immediately caught the head bouncer's, Big Mike, attention. The rope chain
was instantly opened, and Jason and Pinky were led through. Jason gave Big
Mike a pound with two crisp one hundred dollar bills folded neatly.

Inside the club was a jungle gym. It was hot, sweaty, and overflowing with
young men and women. The 40/40 Club had definitely turned into a twentyfive and under club, and although Jason was over thirty, he loved checking
out the young girls dressed so scantily. He realized the young women he
fucked didn't come with the baggage like his former mistress, Monya. They were easy to maintain, because they didn't have shit, and didn't want much,
so no overhead. He could buy them a pair of sneakers or jeans, or just toss
them hair and nail money. Meanwhile, older women had rent or mortgage
payments, car notes, daycare expenses, and credit card bills. Additionally,
they didn't have any qualms asking him to take care of one or all of their
damn expenses. Plus, he could tell a young girl any dumb shit that popped in
his head and they'd believe him.

Jason only stayed long enough to have a couple shots of Hennessy. He
knew in New York the cops had cracked down on drinking and driving. They
had roadblocks set up outside of all the popular hot spots, and he couldn't
afford to catch a bullshit case.

"That was fun, right?" Pinky exclaimed.

"Not really."

"No?"

"What the fuck did we do?"

"I think the music was good." Pinky could tell he was annoyed, but she
played it off. As long as the money was right and long, she was cool with his
attitude.

Jason started the car, but kept it in idle. "I got better plans to have fun.
You're coming with me tonight. Do you have a problem with that?"

"My time is yours," she giggled. "But my time costs."

Instantly, Jason stomped on his brakes. "Let's get this straight, baby girl. I
don't pay for pussy. Now I said I'd give you a couple dollars for leaving work
early, but don't get carried away. I don't give a fuck about you! I mean, you
look a'ight, but don't sit up here like you fucking Queen Sheba. I fucked
better bitches than you and you're not doing me any favors. You can get the
fuck out right here and don't let my car door hit you on your way out."

Pinky was startled by his outburst. The gentleman she'd left the club
with had left the car. She was now with a man who had a temper and spooky
eyes. She felt that perhaps the last line about her time being costly was a bit overstated. She was tired of getting used and fucked for free. Since Jason
seemed like he could afford to spare a couple dollars, she went for it. And
although she knew she wasn't the cutest chick in the world, she knew she had
a wet, tight pussy, and knew how to work her hips. She told herself that after
they fucked and he got a shot of her pink pussy, she'd crack on him for some
dough.

"I'm sorry, baby," she crooned. "I was being silly. I want to go home with
"
you.

ason began drinking heavily after Cartier and Christian moved out. At
first he pretended to enjoy his newfound freedom, staying out late most
nights and making it rain money in all the high-end strip clubs and trendy
hotspots. But after two weeks of blowing through money and rolling in and
out of different women's beds, the nostalgia was over and he wanted his wife
back. Only he couldn't find her.

He didn't believe Trina when she said she didn't know where she was,
but after stalking Trina and Barn, there wasn't any sign of Cartier. And finally,
when he couldn't get any pussy from Monya and she wouldn't return any
of his calls, he realized he had finally been dumped by both his wife and
mistress.

He decided to drive back over to Trina's for his daily harassment. As he
pulled on the block, he saw something that almost stopped his heart. Monya's
white BMW was parked in front of Trina's building, and Cartier, Monya, Jason
Jr., and Christian were getting out. The visual damn near turned his hair white
from shock. Inexplicably, he was enraged. His actions of sleeping with both
women were supposed to drive a wedge between Monya and Cartier, and now
it seemed as if they were best friends again. How? Why? His mind searched for
answers.

Enraged, he jumped out of his jeep and approached the passenger's side,
startling Cartier. "Yo, where the fuck you been all this time?" he asked in a huff.

Calmly, Cartier continued to unlatch Christian's car seat as Monya
gathered Jason Jr. and quickly went to stand by her friend's side. Slowly, she
pulled out her cell phone and called Trina. "Ma, come downstairs and get
Christian."

"Nah, she not taking my daughter no-fucking-where!" Jason's eyes
were darting from Cartier to Monya. If he'd had an ounce of liquor in his
bloodstream, he would have gone off and attacked both women. He was that
angry. His sober mind allowed him to keep everything in the right perspective.
Both his kids were there.

"Don't start acting a fool out here," Cartier threatened.

"Who you think you talking to?"Jason continued to raise his voice. "You
gonna take my daughter from me and I don't know where you've been at for
weeks?"

"I told you that I was out and that I wanted a divorce," Cartier responded.
"If you want to see your daughter, you're going to have to do what regular
people do, which is file for visitation rights with family court. And I will be
seeking full custody and child support."

Jason could hardly believe his ears. This was the hood, and nobody got a
legal divorce with proper paperwork. They just separated and lived out their
lives. Secondly, visitation rights and child support? She was talking like a
suburban housewife. Cartier needed to look in the mirror and see her black
face, because right now she was acting as if her name was Becky.

"Save that bullshit act you putting on, OK. I don't know who you trying
to-"

"What's going on out here?" Trina said as she trotted down the steps
toward the small commotion with Fendi trailing behind her.

Cartier handed Christian to Trina, who was confused. She saw Monya
and Jason and Cartier, and knew something was about to go down. Trina
knew Cartier could whip Monya's ass any day, but she really didn't want them
fighting over Jason. She had so many questions she wanted to ask Cartier. Primarily, where she had been the past couple of weeks. But Cartier had
other instructions.

"Nothing much, Ma," Cartier answered. "Just take Christian upstairs and
I'll be up there shortly."

Monya wasn't leaving Cartier outside by herself with Jason acting crazy.
She walked past Jason and asked Fendi to take Jason Jr. Upstairs too.

Trina was really confused, but she wasn't fucking with Monya. "No," she
yelled, "take him to your mother!"

"Ma, no, take him upstairs too," Cartier intervened. "It's all right, I'll
explain later."

Now Trina's mind felt like scrambled eggs. She realized not to ask any
more questions, because she wasn't about to get any answers. All she could
do was take the kids upstairs and wait.

While all this was transpiring, Jason had his hands stuffed in his pockets
to prevent himself from flipping out. When his kids were out of earshot, he
started in on Monya.

"What the fuck you staying around for?" he shouted. "You need to carry
your ass on too. This is about me and my wife!"

"Don't front now like you the family man, 'cause she already knows
everything! And I mean, everything," Monya taunted. She loved watching
him squirm. It was in that moment Monya knew she would never be a man's
mistress again. She was too good for that.

At Monya's threat, Jason's disposition changed. He decided to use another
approach to get his wife back. His voice was now a plea. "Ma, I want you to
come home. Let's straighten this out, just you and me. You know I love you.
I love my family and I don't know how we got here."

"I'm not going back," Cartier began. "I gave you all the chances I could
and now I'm done. I want out."

"Nah, I'm not letting you go," Jason protested. "What do you want me to
do? Beg? OK, I'm begging you to come back."

Monya inched closer to Cartier to remind her that she was still there.
"Cartier, don't believe that bullshit"

"Monya, I will beat the fuck out of you out here," he threatened and
stepped closer to Monya. Cartier held out her hand in defense of Monya.

"Stop bugging out!" Cartier exclaimed. "This ain't her fault."

"This bitch don't give a fuck about you!" Jason screamed. "She's playing
you right now. She's just jealous of what we shared and mad that I don't want
her ass."

"You want my pussy though," Monya shot back. Jason was so humiliated
and aggravated that he swung on Monya, only missing her head by inches.
Cartier and Monya both reacted and swung back on Jason, who was able
to block both blows. Stunned at Cartier's actions, he staggered backwards
toward his vehicle. He needed time to clear his head, because at the moment,
he felt like he was in a bad movie. He noticed an exchange between the two
women and couldn't understand what was going on. It seemed eerie the way
they were protecting each other. Then he remembered that they once had a
special bond. Cartier even did a bid for Monya.

Jason didn't know what he could do to make Cartier feel the same pain
he was feeling. He thought about running upstairs and snatching Christian,
but then he thought about his freedom. Who would watch the baby later on
tonight when he wanted to run the streets? And besides, it was better to keep
Cartier tied down with a baby, just in case she'd met a new nigga. Jason had
already told himself if he found her fucking with another nigga, he would
beat the shit out of her. He also knew he was going to find out about that
Harlem nigga she used to fuck with named Ryan, and see if they were fucking
around behind his back.

He was indomitable. Nothing could keep him down.

s the weeks passed, Jason continued to call Trina and beg her to tell
Cartier to come home. Each time, she refused. Jason was sick to his core. He stopped eating properly, caring about his attire, and refused to get a
haircut. He'd fallen into a deep depression and there wasn't a party, woman,
or homeboy that could pull him out of it. He was used to waking up, hugging
his wife's shapely body, and kissing the back of her neck. He missed her
making breakfast in the morning or waking up with Christian between them
and baby toes in his face.