Free Return of the Cartier Cartel by Nisa Santiago

like this, but you did this to yourself. It’s your bed, so you’ll have to lie in it. As we said earlier, somebody running their fuckin’ mouth, and if the heat get on us, all of us will have a life sentence hanging over our heads. And Jason knows he can trust me not to crack, and I know I can trust him. With you taking part in this, we can rest peacefully that you’ll have something to lose as well. It gotta be like this, baby girl, so get over it and get to dialing.”
    ****
    “What time is it?” a groggy Big Mike asked.
    “It’s a little after five in the morning, and I wanted to give you your after-Christmas present.”
    “Bam Bam, I’m tired, ma. Can’t this wait until tomorrow? I got a special day planned for you.”
    A lump formed in Bam’s throat. Choking back tears, she said, “I hope you don’t got a bitch there.”
    Big Mike chuckled. He loved his feisty Bam Bam, as he called her.
    Twenty minutes after Mike told Bam she could come over, he heard the faint knock at the door. Eagerly he envisioned opening the door to see Bam wearing a long, sweeping mink coat with nothing but naughty lingerie on. Instead, he got the remix.
    “You already know what it is, nigga. Don’t say a word!” Jason’s eyes were menacing, his voice hoarse.
    Big Mike’s eyes darted toward Bam. He didn’t know if Jason had followed her there and had ambushed them both.
    “Bam Bam, you ain’t down with this, right? This ain’t you, right?”
    “Nigga, shut the fuck up!”
    The butt of Jason’s gun pounded on the back of Big Mike’s head. He took the pain like a man and allowed himself to be duct-taped to a chair, arms and hands. Had he known there wasn’t a cavalry waiting outside for Jason, that the real intention wasn’t to rob him but to kill him, Big Mike would have fought for his life.
    “Jay, you ain’t got to do me like this, man. Not over no paper. Whatever you need, I got you, kid. I’m not a tough guy. I’m just a businessman.”
    Hmm, Jason thought. Why not? Ain’t this what Cartier said Brooklyn niggas do? “Where ya stash at?”
    Big Mike was disgusted. If he made it out of there alive, he would personally put a bullet in Bam’s head. What else could he do? Forgive her? His heart was broken.
    “Bam Bam knows where the stash at. Ain’t that right, Bam?” Big Mike stated.
    Jason couldn’t believe his ears. Big Mike was one stupid muthafucka. You don’t let no chick, unless she wifey, know where you keep your stash. He must really be feeling Bam.
    “Is that so?” Jason said with a slight twang to his tone that annoyed Bam. She knew he was being facetious at her expense. “Well, Bam Bam”—Jason broke out into laughter—“could you do the honors?”
    Reluctantly, Bam walked over to a huge chest and pushed it back from the wall, exposing a handmade hideaway. As she dropped to her knees to retrieve the money, Big Mike couldn’t help but taunt her.
    “Damn, Bam Bam, you set a nigga up over some paper? I thought I gave you all you needed. I guess you wanted it all,” Big Mike said dryly. “And to think I was gonna wife you for real. Not no hood-title shit either, but the real deal. Make that shit official. But I guess a thug bitch like yourself couldn’t see the bigger picture.”
    Now it was Bam’s time to bark orders. “Didn’t he tell you to shut the fuck up?” Her conscience was killing her. She didn’t want to hear about their future together, especially when she knew he only had moments left to live. She just wished Jason would hurry up and do what he came to do.
    Bam reached in and grabbed out a large black duffle bag filled with cash and cocaine. She felt dirty. I mean, what was this about—Shanine and Monya, or doing a straight jux?
    “OK, so y’all got what you came for . . .” Big Mike’s voice trailed off. At that moment he realized he might not see another day. Were they really just gonna take his shit and bounce? Sure, he’d heard of home invasions, but normally you