Return of the Cartier Cartel Read Online Free PDF Page A

get its body off the sticky glue mouse trap perched on the kitchen counter near the Sara Lee bread. You could see the bread crumbs mixed with mouse droppings where he’d eaten through the plastic.
    “Don’t touch it, OK.”
    “I don’t wanna touch it. I wanna rub it.”
    Cartier laughed. “You can’t rub it. That’s nasty.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it’s not a pet. It’s a rodent.”
    “But why?”
    “But your butt into the bathroom and go and wash your face and brush your teeth.”
    Christian didn’t move. To say she was hardheaded would be an understatement. She looked around the kitchen as she calculated her next move.
    Meanwhile, Cartier was already tossing the bread into the trash can along with the squealing mouse, knowing this wasn’t the first or last mouse they’d catch. “Why are you still standing here?”
    Christian’s eyes went toward the top of the refrigerator. “My stomach is rumbling for that white cake.”
    Cartier looked at the vanilla cake Trina had baked over the weekend. “Go and take your ass in the bathroom and get ready for school!”
    The loud outburst from Christian’s wails had woken up all the kids. She’d screamed as if she was getting her ass torn to pieces, though Cartier hadn’t even touched her. Cartier knew she and Jason were raising a cry baby, using a different approach to parenting, talking things out with the kids and not hitting as a form of discipline.
    Trina wasn’t as patient. “Shut up!” she roared, startling the four-year-old. “I’m telling you, Christian, you are begging for an ass-whipping, hollering like you stupid, so damn early in the morning. Now take your tail in that bathroom and get ready for school, and if I have to tell you twice, I’ma get the belt.”
    Reluctantly, Christian marched off, to Cartier’s relief. She had told Trina on numerous occasions to not hit her daughter, but Cartier knew her mother was only two seconds from putting the smack down.
    After the children were off to school, Cartier wanted to resume what she’d started the night before. She fixed Jason breakfast and called him in. Once seated, he began to tear into his plate of food, never lifting his head up, although he knew Cartier wanted to talk.
    “What are we doing here?”
    Jason held some of the scrambled eggs on the fork and stared at his wife. He had no idea where she was going with the conversation. “What do you mean?”
    “I asked, what are we doing here? Why are we here?”
    “Like, why are we living with your moms?”
    “You know what? Yes. Answer that question. Why are we living with Trina?”
    “We’re here because we got shit to do, and once it’s done, then we’re out.”
    “That’s my point, Jason. We’re only here because we got shit to do, but each day we’re here, it’s not getting done. We’re squeezed in here like sardines in a can, and I feel like you’re losing sight of what brought us back to Brooklyn. Why are we not getting any closer to Ryan? You got my mother sleeping on the sofa, all the kids piled up on top of each other. I can’t live like this anymore. It’s been two months to do something that I thought would take a week.”
    Jason dropped his fork and pushed his plate away. He lost his appetite. He didn’t want to hear about murking Ryan. Truthfully, Jason had once again lost his passion to avenge anyone’s murder. He was back in the streets getting money, and that was where his heart was. But he couldn’t tell that to Cartier, nor was he saying that he wouldn’t get at them niggas, but it just wasn’t a priority.
    “Cartier, why are you putting all this pressure on me? Don’t you think I wanna handle my business? I’m out here getting money to take care of my family. I’m out on these streets day and night with my ears peeled to the curb, trying to get the right information to get at these niggas. I know I don’t discuss it with you, but believe me, I got this.”
    “I just think you need to let me in on