Cartier Cartel (37 page)

"But what made you decide this? I thought we were Brooklyn forever.
Do or die in this motherfucker."

"We're not kids anymore," Monya exclaimed. "I'm damn near thirtyyears
old. I gotta think about my future. Don't you ever want out?"

"Out of what?"

"The game. Poverty. The bullshit."

"Monya, I was born and raised around the riffraff. I think I'd feel out of
place in some hick town around a bunch of country motherfuckers saying
shit like, 'Yessum.' That's just not my style. I'm used to the gunshots, fights,
designer clothes, the struggle, keepin' it real, I'm a full-fledged Brooklyn Bitch
and I don't want change."

Monya nodded. Although she didn't agree with Shanine, she certainly
understood.

"I guess I feel you, but one day you might change your mind and when
that day comes, you better come and check us out in Atlanta."

"Who're us? You and my godchild?"

Monya hesitated. "Yeah, him. And Cartier..."

Shanine cut her eyes toward her friend. "So it is true? Y'all really fucking
around?"

Monya's wide smile confirmed it all.

"Damn, I wanted so badly to ask you if the rumors were true, but I didn't want you cursing me out. How the fuck that happened?"

"It just happened."

"Well, not to be disrespectful, but please spare me the details. In fact, let's
change the subject."

The thought of Monya and Cartier fucking gave Shanine the heebie-
jeebies. She definitely didn't want any parts of Atlanta now that the situation
became clearer.

Monya took her time as she arrived on the street of Jesus's stash house.
She thought it was clever as hell to run a multi-million dollar drug operation
out of a dilapidated neighborhood. The houses looked to be eighty years old
and every two feet, the streets had large potholes or broken pavement.

At the house, security cameras were everywhere and the place was
guarded by enough bodyguards packing heat. Monya backed the Taurus in
the driveway of the gated property. Monya and Shanine went in through the
side door, expecting to see Jesus, but he wasn't available. They stood face-toface with three Spanish speaking men, holding and pointing guns directly at
them.

Jesus being unavailable had unnerved both women. They were used to
him being there. Jesus made them feel safe.

Monya spoke. "We're supposed to pick up twenty keys on consignment.
Jesus said it was OK. Why isn't he here?"

"Don't worry mami. He say give you good stuff. He like you he say. We
have it here," one of the gunmen said. He turned toward another gunman,
"Vamoose."

Within seconds, they were bringing out twenty neatly packaged kilos of
cocaine.

"Where do you want these?" the leader of the henchman asked. "The
trunk of car?"

"Umm, well no. We got a stash car," Monya explained. They understood perfectly. They also had stash cars. Most of their customers owned and used
stash cars. Although it wasn't foolproof, it was a deterrent. The gunmen began
loading the keys into Monya's secret compartments on her Taurus. Before
they left, it wasn't without warning.

"Jesus say you have three days to bring him three hundred forty thousand
dineros. He say to tell you if you fuck around, you dead. OK, mami? You
understand?"

Monya exhaled. Not that Jesus wouldn't have given her the same threat,
he just would have been a little more tactful in conveying his message.

"Si, I understand."

Monya and Shanine hopped in the car with Monya jumping in the
driver's seat. They would switch driving every five hours until they reached
their first destination. Monya popped in vintage Notorious B.I.G and they sat
back and relaxed as their car glided down the highway.

Big Mike was antsy and called Monya's cell phone incessantly during the
ride 95-South.

"Yo, how long y'all gonna be?" Big Mike complained. "I got peoples that
need those joints."

"I said I gotchu, nigga," Monya said, weighing her words while talking
over the telephone. "We just got to make a quick stop in N.C. to hit off Ryan
from up top and then we gonna come through and meet your man"

"What Ryan? With the blow-out?"

"Yeah, that nigga."

"Right, do you. But hurry the fuck up!" Big Mike disconnected the call.

They took their time reaching North Carolina, making sure to do the
speed limit and stopping to eat. The drive took twelve hours and Monya
called Ryan several blocks from his crib.

"What's good, ma?" Ryan said when he answered the phone.

"It's all good. We here."

"Who're we? You know I don't fuck with a lot of peoples." Ryan was
agitated. He didn't have any idea who Monya had with her, and in this
business no one was to be trusted.

"Nah, calm down. It's just me and Shanine. She's my road dawg. She's
cool. You remember her, right?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember shorty. OK, it's just y'all?"

"Look, I just told you who I'm rolling with. We're tired as hell and you're
acting paranoid. Are we gonna do this or not? I don't want to be out here like
this...."

"No doubt. Do you know how to get to my place?"

"I don't know this fucking town," Monya replied. "Give me the address
again and I'll put it in my GPS on my cell phone."

Ryan hesitated. "Nah, don't do that. I don't like loose ends when shit ain't
right, you know? Stay on the phone and I'll direct you from where you are."

Ryan remained on speakerphone and guided the women to his remote
location. When they arrived, Shanine opted to stay in the car.

Monya thought about it and agreed. "You're right. I'll be out in a few
minutes."

Ryan approached the car and peered in. Both women looked at the neatly
dressed man and both had the same thought. Ryan was definitely eye candy.
But he'd done Cartier dirty and left her when she needed him most. Monya
decided not to tell Cartier that she and Ryan had done a business transaction.
She didn't know if the mention of his name would irritate Cartier and bring
back bad memories.

"What's up, ladies? Y'all look good," he began. Instantly they both showed
Colgate smiles at the charming drug hustler.

"Thanks. You ready?" Monya asked. She was truly tired and couldn't wait
to get her hands on the quick money and continue to the next town.

"I was born ready. Come on," Ryan said and opened up Monya's door.
She jumped out and began to follow Ryan into the house when he noticed Shanine wasn't following. "She not coming?"

"No, she's going to stay inside the car," Monya answered.

"Oh, that's what's up. Where's the shit?"

"Inside the stash."

"What the fuck you waiting on?" Ryan snapped, which startled Monya.
She shook off the feeling and decided to lay down the law.

"We don't do business like that," she explained. "I'll come in and make
sure the count is correct and then I'll give Shanine the paper and bring you
the product. This ain't brain surgery, Ryan. It's a drug deal. I'm sure you've
done plenty of transactions before."

"Shit, listen to you, all sassy and shit." He laughed. "How you know this
ain't my first time? You might have to show me a few moves."

"Oh, please," Monya giggled.

"You look like you have a few moves to show a nigga," Ryan said, eyeing
Monya up and down. She knew he was flirting and switched her tiny hips a
little harder. She didn't want to swing an episode, but she was a woman and
wanted to be wanted.

"I don't know about all of that," Monya flirted back.

"So from here where y'all headed?" Ryan asked. "Back to NY or do y'all
have more stops?"

"We got one more stop."

"OK, then I better get you up out of here quick."

Ryan led Monya.into a small two-story foyer. It was a nice sized home in
a residential area. It had to be close to three thousand square feet.

"Is this your house?"

"Yeah, I own it, but I don't lay my head here. I just use it for business."

Monya knew this wasn't the huge mansion that everyone was speaking
of. But she would have been just as happy living in that house. It was the nicest
home she'd ever been inside, and it probably cost peanuts. She couldn't wait
to do the next few runs and buy her and Cartier a huge home in Atlanta.

"You living large, ain't you?" Monya asked.

"I'm doing all right," he began. "Go and take a seat inside the living room
and I'll go get that paper."

Monya walked and had a seat on the plush sofa. She really wanted to kick
off her shoes and take a nap. She was tired as hell, but riding up and down
I-95 was part of the game. That's how she made her money.

She heard some rumbling upstairs and looked down at her watch. Ryan
was taking too long to gather that dough.

"Yo, hurry up," she yelled. "I got shit to do." Monya yawned a few times
and was interrupted by her cell phone. It was Shanine.

"What the fuck is going on inside there? You a'ight?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm just waiting for him to count that paper. I should be
out soon."

"You want me to hold on the phone until you come out?"

"Nah, I'm good. If I'm not out in ten minutes, then call back. Matter-offact, get in the driver's seat and be on alert. Anything funny, just jet and call
5-0. But don't get alarmed, I'm not feeling any static:'

"OK, one:

Monya continued to wait impatiently and suddenly just before she dosed
off, Ryan appeared. He had a duffle bag and Monya was relieved. She was
ready to get on the road and make her next stop. Ryan plopped on the sofa
next to her and tossed her the bag.

"This all me?" Monya questioned.

"Count it."

"Oh, no doubt. That's the first thing I always do. I ain't new to this"

"Stop talking like you a gangsta," Ryan began. "If you were a real gangsta
you wouldn't have walked into this:"

Monya felt a strong nudge in her side as she opened the bag and realized
it was filled with newspaper.

"What the fuck is this?" her voice exuded fear as her hands trembled.

"You already know what it is." Ryan's voice was icy cold and his demeanor
had changed. "A, yo!"

Ryan called and two more gunmen appeared, wearing black hoodie
sweatshirts, jeans, and boots, brandishing weapons.

"Ryan, you gonna play me like this?" Monya asked as her eyes pleaded
with Ryan. He was unaffected. Monya didn't have any idea what they were
going to do to her, but she hoped Shanine did as she was told and call back,
be on alert, and hopefully, get away and call for help.

"Bitch, shut the fuck up," Ryan shouted. "Get your silly ass up and if you
make one sound, I'ma put a bullet in your head."

As everyone surrounded her, Monya thought about her son. Was she really
going to die? Would Ryan really go out like that? For all she cared, they could
take the drugs and she'd handle Jesus when she got back. But even as she tried
to rationalize her thoughts, she knew that there wasn't anyway they'd just take
the drugs and leave them alive. Monya began to cry and plead.

"Ryan, you don't even gotta go out like this," she pleaded. "You can take
the whole car, just don't hurt us. I got a son that needs me."

Ryan shook his head.

"Damn, Monya. I ain't even like that. I'm mean, shit, we are gonna take
your shit, but we ain't no murderers. Just don't go acting stupid and it's all
good. Now get the fuck up."

Monya was glad he was leading her out of the house. She thought that
she would end up duct taped in the basement with a bullet in her head.
Suddenly, she tried to be optimistic. The two gunmen fell back as Ryan and
Monya walked toward the car. Just as planned Shanine was in the driver's
seat. She looked at Monya with the duffle bag in her hand and exhaled. Had
she looked deeper at her friend's expression, she would have seen her panic
stricken eyes.

Shanine rolled down the window. About time-"

Ryan was quick and brief. He pulled out the burner and pointed it toward Shanine. She was about to scream when Ryan began barking orders.

"Shut the fuck up or you're dead. Do you understand me?"

"What's going on?" Shanine voiced weakly.

Before the girls knew what was happening, they were being surrounded
and hustled into the car. Shanine was instructed to slide over into the
passenger's seat and Monya sat in the back, next to one armed dude she didn't
know. The other dude hopped in a Toyota Camry and followed. Ryan took
the wheel and began driving. For a while, no one said anything. The car was
silent as wild thoughts ran rampant through each girl's head. Shanine began
to pray silently as Monya thought of a way to get out of their situation. The
only thing she could think of was compassion.

"Ryan, you promised that you were going to let us go, right?" Monya
asked with fear in her voice. "You know I'm only out here doing this so that
I could feed my son."

Ryan remained calm. He was making sure he obeyed all the traffic laws. As
he drove to the remote location, both women began to cry louder. Their deep
moans of agony didn't faze the men. Ryan figured women in the game should
know the repercussions of the game. If they wanted to act like men, then they
got handled like men. He heard about the Cartel running through the streets
of New York, selling drugs, fighting, and even killing motherfuckers. He'd
heard about how they did Donnie dirty and couldn't believe the hypocrisy.

They could take a life and then beg for theirs? What about Donnie's kids?
Ryan rationalized. Though he didn't give a fuck about Donnie; he didn't even
know the motherfucker. He just couldn't believe that they actually thought
the drug game was sweet. It was ruthless and he was a ruthless motherfucker.
He'd been robbing and murdering niggas since he was seventeen and running
up in stash houses on Riverside Drive. If they couldn't handle the heat, they
should have stayed in the kitchen, baking cookies or some shit like that.

Finally, he reached his location. He pulled over to the side and looked in
his rearview mirror to see if Chopper, his man who was following, was close behind. He pulled over too.