Free Cartier Cartel by Nisa Santiago Page B

his game
and pull Cartier. She didn't want Cartier and Ryan falling more in love, and
Ryan buying a car for Cartier. As bad as the Cartel needed a whip, she didn't
want it to be Cartier who provided it by way of Ryan.
    "Why don't you ever tell her how you feel?" Monya asked.
    "What the fuck you think I've been doing? Cartier knows exactly how
I feel."
    "Well, obviously, what you've been doing ain't enough. There's no way
this outsider should have been able to swoop down and bag her." Monya
knew what she was doing. She knew what buttons to push. And she needed
Jason to be pushed.
    Jason's anger was increasing. He felt like a chump, a loser who couldn't
even pull the girl he dreamed about. But what he couldn't understand was
why Monya cared so much.
    "Monya, you and I ain't never been cool. Why the fuck you care if I get
with Cartier? What's in it for you?"
    Monya didn't expect the question, but she had confidence on her side.
She thought she was smarter than Jason and could easily manipulate him.
"This really ain't even about you-"
    "That's exactly what I mean. If this ain't about me, then what's it about?"
Jason snapped back.
    "It's about my best friend," Monya tried explaining. "This guy is no good
for her and I hate to see her making a big mistake."
    "Then why don't you tell her?"

    "I did," Monya lied. "She just won't listen to me"
    "Then let's go back to plan A and let me push back this nigga's wig!"
    Monya thought about it for a second before coming to her senses. She
couldn't believe she'd actually entertained the thought of having an innocent
man murdered. Quickly, she snapped back to reality. There wasn't any way
she could have blood on her hands. That was just bad karma. Plus, she still
had feelings for Ryan, and the last thing she wanted was for him to die. And
worse, she didn't want to be a part of such a death.
    Monya was aggravated. She looked at the pitiful look in Jason's eyes
and listened to the yearning in his voice, and for the life of her, she couldn't
understand why he liked Cartier so much. What in the hell did these men
see that she didn't see? On a scale of one to ten, Cartier was a struggling four.
And three out of those four points were for her body. Why can't anyone else
see this?
    "Calm the fuck down," Monya snapped. "You ready to do a bid over
Cartier? I don't know what the fuck is so special that motherfuckers are
losing their minds over her."
    "Let's keep this gangsta. Ain't nobody losing their mind," Jason said. "I'm
just saying that I have more to offer than that lame, permed-hair faggot."
    "Whatever."
    Monya was disgusted and felt that they weren't getting anywhere. She
decided to carry her ass back upstairs. Tomorrow was another day.

     

he anger brewing inside the young black male was palpable. He told
those hard-headed little bitches not to sell shit on his corner, and they
defied him. He couldn't fucking believe it. He sat inside the front seat of his
black Yukon watching as Bam did a hand-to-hand transaction to Shirelle, one
of the local fiends.
    Each time she served a customer, Donnie rationalized that they were
taking food out of his daughter's mouth and money out of his pocket. As the
car sat idling, a million thoughts flowed through his mind. But one thought
remained constant: to bust a cap in the young bitch's ass.
    Donnie took another long, steady pull from his blunt, ignoring the
repeated calls his phone kept registering. He was in his world, contemplating
doing the deed of a dealer and protecting his turf.As the purple haze permeated
the confined space in the car, he began coughing, trying desperately to
control his breathing. He was beyond fucked up. He reached inside his glove
compartment and pulled out a small bottle of Hennessy to lubricate his dry,
pasty mouth. The strong cognac burned his throat as he took a large swig of
the dark liquid. His body felt warm as the alcohol traveled through his body.
He loved this feeling.
    Normally