Array Ashley - The Cartel

Confusion and anger took over Carter’s body. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or enraged. “It still doesn’t make up for the years I spent never knowing him. I don’t give a fuck what I’m facing. When I have a shorty, my seed gon’ know who I am. I’m gon’ be a man and take care of my family, no matter what the circumstances are. Money can’t make up for the times he wasn’t there. My mother couldn’t teach me how to be a man. I turned to the streets for guidance. My father came to my games, but he wasn’t the one who showed me how to throw the football. He never showed me how to grip a pistol. He ain’t show me shit. I had to learn all that shit off humbug on my own.”

“Sending you money and supporting you from afar was the only thing he could do. That cash kept you fed and a roof over your head. Your mother didn’t have to worry about shit. She chose to never spend the money on herself. She never had to work another day of her life if she didn’t want to. He made sure of that.” Polo looked in Young Carter’s eyes, trying to read him.

Carter stood up to signal that he was done with the conversation. “It still doesn’t matter. This ain’t home, and first thing tomorrow I’m out.”

Polo stood as well, He shook his head in contempt. “A’ight, I hear you, but now you hear me. There’s a war going on. Your little brothers and your baby sister need you right now. They weren’t raised the way you were. They’re spoiled, and they underestimate the seriousness of what’s going on. This family needs your leadership, your protection. There’s a lot of unfinished business that needs to be handled. Your father’s seat at The Cartel is waiting to be filled.”

Carter’s silence was enough to let Polo know that he was considering his options. He headed for the door. Before he left the room, he said, “There’s a meeting tomorrow night at the Diamond house. Your presence should be felt. If you’re still in town, you should drop in. I’ll be in touch.”

As the door closed behind him, Carter thought of all the times he had wondered about his father. He was going crazy as he tried to recount the endless gifts his mother had given when he was growing up. He remembered growing up in the inner city up until the age of ten. At that time, his mother had mysteriously packed up all their belongings and moved them to the suburbs of Grand Blanc. That must be around the time that Carter found out about me, he thought to himself.

A part of him wanted to leave town and never look back, but another part of him wanted to stay. The part that had seen the beautiful face of his baby sister, the part that had witnessed the arrogant swagger of his brother Mecca, and calculating discreetness of his brother Monroe. His emotions were at an all-time high, and for the first time in his life, he was indecisive.

Unable to stay cooped up in the hotel suite, he grabbed two stacks of money and headed for the door. He needed to clear his head. He figured that the best way to do that was to visit the floating casino that sat at the end of the pier on South Beach. He didn’t know that gambling ran through his veins like blood. It was a habit his father also had. What he did know was that it relaxed him, which was just what he needed at the moment.

Carter stood at a lively crap table with nothing but hundred-dollar chips in his rack. The casino was unusually packed for a Sunday night, and every table was crowded with eager participants just waiting to be taken by the house. Carter was lax from the top-shelf Rémy he was sipping on. The liquor and the intense thrill of the game had calmed him down since his earlier encounter with Polo.

“All bets set!” the dice handler yelled before maneuvering the ivory across the table and placing them in front of Young Carter. “Dice out!”

With his drink still in one hand, Carter picked up the dice with the other and tossed them toward the other end of the table with a nonchalant swagger. The dice tickled the fabric as they danced before finally landing.

“Yo! Eleven, yo!” the dealer shouted, indicating that eleven had landed on the face of the dice.

Uproarious celebration erupted around the table as everyone collected their wins and anxiously awaited Carter’s next roll. He had been on a hot streak all night, hitting point after point. His luck was unbelievable. He had held the dice for forty-five minutes, which was almost impossible to do in the game of craps. He schooled the dice against the table with his head down as he watched his hands work their magic. He concentrated heavily on his technique. Every hustler had his own rhythm with the dice, and Carter was no exception.

“Excuse me, can I get in here?”

Hearing the feminine voice amongst the crowd of boisterous men caused Carter to look up. A brown-skinned girl with shoulder-length, almond-colored layers and hazel eyes squeezed into the empty rack next to him. She was so close to him that her sweet perfume played games with his senses, and he felt his manhood acknowledge her presence. He put the dice down as he watched her reach into her skintight Seven jeans and pull out a small wad of money. He waited for her to throw her cash on the table before he continued his roll.

The dealer handed her a hundred dollars worth of chips, and she put them in her rack, arranging them by denomination. He smirked at her as she made a pattern with the different color chips. It was rare that he saw a woman at the crap tables, and the one beside him had his full attention.

The men around the table grew impatient, some of them clearing their throats to signal to Carter that he should pick up the dice.

The young woman squirmed beside Carter, trying to find her place between the big men surrounding her.

“My fault, baby,” Carter stated. “Here, let’s do it like this.” He turned sideways and allowed her to ease in comfortably at the table, giving her more room to play.

“It’s all right. You good,” she responded with a New York accent that immediately told him that she wasn’t from Miami. She looked up at him and smiled as he stared down onto her 5-5 frame.

Captivated by her presence, he made mental notes as he admired her wide hips, thin waist, and perfectly manicured fingers and toes. His intense focus on her caused her to blush.

She lay her chips on the table. “Can I get a seventy-two-dollar six?”

Carter noticed the small tattoo on the back side of her wrist that read Murder Mama. That immediately piqued his interest. She then pointed to the dice, reminding Carter that it was his roll. Carter tossed the dice at the end of the table. “Here go your six, ma.”

“Hard six!” the dealer yelled.

The girl jumped up and down and squealed with joy as if she had just won a million dollars, and Carter couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm.

The man next to her was so in awe of the woman that he dropped her a twenty-five-dollar chip and winked at her, saying, “Lady luck!”

The man was so busy taking a peek at Miamor’s ass that he didn’t notice her lift three of his five-hundred-dollar chips out of his rack. Miamor bent over and pretended to fix the strap on her stiletto, giving the man a nice view of her assets. She did all of this in less than ten seconds. While everyone was busy collecting their money from the dealers, Miamor used the distraction to her advantage. When she stood, she gave the old man a half-smile that seemed to light up the room.

Carter shook his head with a smirk on his face as he watched the young woman’s game.

“What’s so funny?” she asked with laughter in her voice as she looked up at him, one hand plastered to her hip, the other reaching onto the table to collect her cash.

“Nothing, ma. I’m just happy you won.” Carter licked his full lips.