Coca Kola - The Baddest Chick Page 2

  “Girl, I know you heard what happened to Apple the other night.”

  Denise didn’t want to hear that name in her house. She despised everything about Apple and wanted to forget she even gave birth to her.

  “Some crackhead walked up to her while she was flaunting in front of her new ride and tossed some acid in her face. She was lookin’ a hot mess, Denise. I mean, I know that’s ya daughter and everything, but word around town is that she deserved it, the way she was acting.”

  Denise looked nonchalant after hearing the news. “I could care less.”

  “I’m just saying, there might be some shit going on behind that. You know Apple.”

  “I don’t wanna hear shit about no muthafuckin’ Apple!” Denise barked. “That bitch is dead to me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “Well, bitch, you is.”

  Nina shrugged and continued to sip on her drink.

  Denise removed a cigarette from her pack and lit it. She was more worried about her card game than Apple’s predicament. She walked over to the window and looked outside. She sighed heavily as the murder of her youngest daughter, Nichols, loomed in her head. It had been months since her death, and Denise couldn’t help feeling guilty. She was never the heartwarming, reliable mother to any of her daughters. And now, with the youngest gone, one of her twins in the hospital, and the other almost absent from her life completely, she resorted to drinking, partying, and having sex to ease the pain of her troubled life.

  “Fuck her!” Denise muttered to herself. She took another drag from her cigarette.

  Denise knew she wasn’t getting any younger. She didn’t have any retirement plan, and tricking off niggas and hustlers was getting old for her. She still had her curvy, attractive figure, but every year there was something changing about her. She was gaining more weight; her breasts didn’t sit high like they used to; she had a little pouch; and the younger girls were throwing pussy at every baller they came across, whoring themselves out at a much younger age, and making the competition more fierce for her in the streets.

  Nina lingered by the bar, chatting on her cell phone, while Denise stood by the window and smoked. She would be forty soon, and her life wasn’t getting any better. She missed Nichols deeply. She remembered how that little girl used to burn in the kitchen some mornings and how she was so smart and sweet. It tore a hole in Denise’s heart that her youngest daughter was murdered and dumped in a dumpster like yesterday’s leftovers. And she couldn’t do anything about it.

  Denise knew, if Nichols was alive, she probably would have been in a better situation with her older twins and that Nichols would’ve done whatever she had to do to bring her sisters and mother closer together. Denise missed Nichols’ warm, caring heart.

  Denise quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, making sure not to face Nina with her eyes puffy and watery. She didn’t want Nina to see her looking vulnerable.

  Denise took another pull from her cigarette before turning to Nina. “You ready to wild out tonight, bitch?”

  Nina smiled and raised her cup. “Ya know it, girl. Where everybody at anyway?”

  ***

  Four hours later, Denise’s apartment was in full swing with people and loud music. Anita Baker was playing from the stereo, and the thick, lingering cigarette and weed smoke mixing together made some of the strongest lungs in the room cough from contact. The tainted smell carried heavily into the hallway. There was a comfortable mixture of men and women, and they all were cursing, drinking, and carrying on. The bottles of liquor that Denise had set out earlier were almost down to a swallow, so Nina and a friend had to do another run to the liquor store to get a few more bottles.

  Denise sat at the card table playing spades, a burning cigarette dangling from her lips and a half cup of Goose sitting in front of her. She smiled at the hand she had and shouted, “It’s muthafuckin’ on up in here! I’m gettin’ my fuckin’ rent paid tonight.”

  The sadness and gloomy mood she’d been feeling earlier quickly disappeared when company arrived, and she was her usual self again—a swearing, teasing, loud-mouthed bitch. Her deceased daughter Nichols was no longer on her mind. The only thing that concerned her was the pot of money resting on the card table and probably fucking one of the cuties chilling in her apartment.

  Tipsy, Nina was sitting on a man’s lap and her tits were all in his face. He placed his hand between her legs and whispered the things she wanted to hear in her ear. It didn’t take long for her to disappear with him into one of the bedrooms.

  “Wear a fuckin’ condom!” Denise shouted humorously.

  Denise focused back on her game and stared into her partner’s eyes. It was clear as a sunny, warm June day that they both had a thing for each other. Robert was her spades partner, and they were killing the other team. They were ready to win the five hundred dollars up for grabs.

  Robert was tall, lean, and barely breaking his twenties. He sported long braids, smooth, dark skin, and was easy on the eyes from head to toe. He had a winning white smile and full lips that made Denise think of him eating her out. Coming up under Cross, Robert’s style of clothing was sharp, and his jewelry was always on point. That night, he wore a lengthy white gold and diamond chain with a diamond-encrusted cross pendant that almost blinded Denise. And he sported a pair of diamond stud earrings, a Cartier watch on one wrist, and a matching yellow gold and diamond bracelet on the other.

  Denise wasn’t the only woman in the room checking out Robert. He had a few female admirers, but she made it her business to make it known that she was interested in the young hustler.

  She smiled at him and bluntly asked, “So, Robert, you like cougars?”

  Robert smiled. “I like any kind of cat. Pussy is pussy.”

  “Oh really? So, maybe I need to take your young ass to the zoo and have you pet one.”

  Robert chuckled, but Andrea didn’t think Denise’s comment was funny. She cut her eyes at Denise and said, “Ain’t cougars suppose to be extinct anyway?”

  “Oh no, she didn’t!” someone exclaimed.

  Denise cut her eyes over at the young girl dressed in the tight Apple Bottom jeans and tight shirt with the long ponytail and replied, “And cougars are known to kill viciously. Don’t get hurt up in my place, little girl. Besides, it’s always good for a growing boy to have some meat on his plate.”

  Andrea rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. She had a huge crush on Robert and had been trying to fuck him since the summer. Robert was amused by the not-so-subtle catfight between the young and the old. Still, he had his eyes on Denise. He loved his women mature.

  Andrea knew her boundaries when it came to messing with Denise. The thirty-six-year-old wildcat was known to cut a few bitches back in her days, so she didn’t feel threatened by the girl.

  She continued with the card game, and blurted out, looking at Andrea, “Just like my damn daughters—so fuckin’ stupid. Don’t get fucked up over some dick that don’t even belong to you.”

  Andrea could only roll her eyes and look at Denise sideways.

  The house phone rang while Denise was in the middle of her minor dispute and a good hand. She answered the call with an agitated tone, only to hear it was a nurse informing her that her daughter was injured and in critical condition at Jamaica Hospital.

  “Well, I’m glad she’s alive, but she’s now eighteen and fuckin’ grown. Besides, I already know about it, so don’t fuckin’ call here no more about that bitch. Fuck her!” Denise shouted. “I can’t do shit for her anyway. You have a nice night.”

  Everyone at the table looked at Denise in shock. They couldn’t believe the apathy she had toward Apple being in the hospital.

  After hanging up, Denise exclaimed, “I ain’t got no more fuckin’ kids!”

  “You a cold bitch, Denise,” one of the players stated.

  “Fuck her! That tramp gonna do me dirty and think I’m gonna have some concern? What goes around comes around.”

 
; By this time, it was nearing three in the morning, and the unruly pack was fading. Most of the guests were staggering their way back to their homes.

  Denise sat on Robert’s lap, sipping on her drink, ready to fuck him. She said to Andrea, “Little girl, ain’t it time for you to leave?”

  “I’m grown,” Andrea shot back.

  “Grown?” Denise chuckled. ”What makes you grown, huh? What? You fucked a few niggas, sucked some dick, and think wearing them tight jeans make you grown? Bitch, ya coochie ain’t even ready.”

  Andrea remained silent.

  “Matter of fact, let me show you how to please a man the right way.”

  Denise stood up from Robert’s lap and pulled him by his arm. She smirked at Andrea while luring Robert into the bedroom, where empty liquor bottles, clothing, and cigarette butts were scattered around. The ashtray was filled, and the sheets looked used and wrinkled. The condition of the room was a clear indication it had been used for sex all night.

  Denise sucked her teeth. “I know muthafuckas don’t think I’m gonna be the one cleaning this shit up.”

  Robert laughed.

  Denise just wanted some dick and would worry about the bedroom later. It didn’t take long before she was on her back with her legs wrapped around his head, allowing the young twenty-five-year-old hustler to eat her pussy out.

  “Ooooooh, eat that pussy!” Denise cried out, making sure her cries of delight were loud enough for Andrea to hear, if she was listening.

  Chapter 3

  Kola punched in the correct numbers to open Cross’ wall safe. She went into the stash, almost half a million dollars, and dumped what she needed into a small duffel bag. She counted ninety thousand dollars to buy six ki’s of cocaine. Though business had been good in the past months, and money was not a problem for the couple, Kola knew that now wasn’t the time for their product to dry up, because then their empire would start to crumble. Somebody needed to hold down the fort, especially with Chico being their main competition in Harlem. Tension was escalating between both crews, and a few bodies had fallen.

  Chico and his crew were fierce competition for Cross. Harlem was a gold mine, and Kola wasn’t about to give it up, especially to her sister’s boyfriend. She despised Apple and anything connected to her and wanted to see her and Chico fall, and fall hard. With Cross and Edge locked up until their arraignment, Kola knew Cross was right. She had to step up and meet with the connect.

  Chico was getting his supply from the Haitians and flooding the East Side with coke and dope that had been stepped on too many times. It wasn’t as potent as Cross’ supply, but Chico was still cutting into Cross’ business with his weak product and lower price.

  Kola knew Cross was getting a pure product from Eduardo for fifteen grand a ki and reselling it on the streets to different drug runners for eighteen and a half grand, making a profit of thirty-five hundred a ki. She knew it wasn’t a huge profit, especially considering the risk they had to take, but they were at war with Chico and his crew, who was low-balling them in the streets. Cross supplied Harlem, and his reputation preceded him. Kola was ready to fight tooth and nail to keep his name respected and his business profitable.

  She sat in the apartment with an idea. It was risky, but she knew with the right persuasion and the money on the table, he had to go for it. Kola’s heart beat like African drums as she thought about how many things could go wrong. But if her plan worked well, then she and Cross would see much more money and cut out their competition permanently. It was a chance she was willing to take. She reached back into the safe and removed an extra forty thousand dollars to stuff into the duffel bag. Then she secured the duffel bag and was ready to make her move.

  It had been twenty-four hours since she had gotten the phone call from Cross about his arrest, and his arraignment was in another twenty-four hours. Kola’s time schedule was tight. She had to meet with Eddie at the preferred location, an apartment in New Jersey, and then rush to the courthouse to bail out Cross and Edge.

  Kola sighed, looking at the time. It was getting late. She concealed the .380 in her purse, lit a Newport, and stared at herself in the mirror. Clad in a stylish, tight-fitting Chinese jumpsuit with a rhinestone dragon embedded in the back and a pair of Fendi heels, her look was flawless. Ready to conduct business with Eddie, she picked up her keys to the truck and rushed outside with the duffel bag in hand.

  She traveled to Jersey City alone with one hundred and thirty thousand dollars in the bag. She crossed the George Washington Bridge and hit the evening traffic, heading into New Jersey.

  Kola looked at herself in the visor mirror and said to herself, “You can do this, Kola. You got this. You gonna take care of this deal and then get your man out of jail.”

  She was worried about Cross but tried to block the worries from her mind and think about the meeting. Straight out of Colombia, Eddie made his way to the top through violence, bloodshed, and intimidation. He’d even killed his own brother because of his betrayal. Kola didn’t know too much about him, except that Cross had been doing business with him for over a year and things always went well. She didn’t want to fuck it up, so she kept her game face on and tried to be professional.

  It took her thirty minutes to arrive in Jersey City. Eddie had a lavish waterfront three-bedroom condo overlooking the Manhattan skyline. The place was used only for business, and it was heavily secured. It was Kola’s first time at the condo, because whenever Cross did business with Eddie, he went alone or with Edge. She had gotten the address and information from Cross and put it in the GPS.

  She parked in front of the twenty-one-story building and sighed. She planned on changing Cross’ business arrangement, which took courage. It would take a miracle to convince his connect, a man she had never met before, to switch it up.

  “You gotta make it happen,” Kola said to herself.

  She checked her makeup and wardrobe, put on her dark diva shades, stepped out of her M-class Benz, and strutted toward the glass lobby entrance carrying the duffel bag. Kola had purposely unzipped the front of her fashionable jumpsuit to expose her ample cleavage, not wanting to look the least bit threatening. Her curves showed in the attire she wore, and her high heels click-clacked against the marble floor, echoing all through the lobby.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” the tall, well-dressed doorman asked. He was wearing a dark blue blazer, white gloves, and a top hat.

  “Yes, I’m here to see Eddie or Eduardo.”

  The aging doorman looked Kola up and down, his eyes lingering on her breasts. As he picked up the phone to announce Kola’s presence, she wondered if she would be let up.

  “Yes, I have a young lady here wanting to see him,” the doorman announced to the person on the other end of the phone.

  “Tell them I’m here for Cross,” Kola chimed.

  “She’s here representing Cross,” the doorman added. He nodded as he listened.

  While the doorman looked over at Kola once again, sizing her up from head to toe, Kola’s nerves were on edge. She watched his every move.

  “Yes. I understand, sir . . . I will, sir . . . at this very moment.” The doorman removed the phone from his ear and said to Kola, “State your business.”

  Kola eyed the man and replied, “Making money is my business, and I have plenty to do business with.” She raised the duffel bag, indicating there was plenty of money inside.

  The doorman held a deadpan stare on Kola and spoke back into the phone. “She seems for real, sir.” He listened, taking orders, and then looked at Kola. “Top floor, twenty-one, and they will be waiting for you.”

  Kola smiled and went on her way. She strutted toward the gold elevator doors, pushed the button, and looked back at the serious-looking doorman, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. The way he looked at her sent chills up her back. When the elevator doors opened, she quickly stepped into the blackened cherry wood interior and pushed for the twenty-first floor.

  The lift ascended like a rocket taking off
, making Kola feel a little bit queasy. She clutched the duffel bag tightly and took a deep breath.

  Kola stepped off not knowing what to expect. It had crossed her mind that she could be walking into a setup, and even though she had her .380 stashed in her purse, she knew she wasn’t Superwoman.

  The second she stepped off the elevator three armed men in dark suits, two carrying Glock 17s and one an M16, confronted her. Trying not to look nervous, she kept up her game face and let the men pat her down.

  “I’m packing,” she quickly let it be known.

  “Where?” one man asked, his voice stern.

  “A three eighty in my purse,” she said, surrendering her purse.

  The man holding the M16 quickly snatched it from her hand and dumped the contents onto the hallway floor. He removed the gun, checked her purse thoroughly, including the lining, and tossed it back to her. Meanwhile, the other two checked the duffel bag and went through the money. Security was tighter than Fort Knox.

  “Damn!” Kola uttered.

  They continued their pat-down, searching between her legs, her breasts.

  One of the men took it an extra step by fondling her near her pussy, making Kola cringe a little. When he was done, he smirked at Kola and said, “Just checking.”

  “You like that?” Kola asked, not smiling.

  The man smiled.

  “State your business with Eduardo,” one of the men said, his facial expression hard like stone.

  “I need to talk to him. It’s about business.”

  “He doesn’t meet with strangers.”

  “I’m Cross’ woman, and I think he would want to meet with me. I came bearing gifts and news for him.”

  The men looked at her and then glanced at each other. One of the guards disappeared into the suite and left Kola waiting in the carpeted hallway. He came back out a moment later and signaled for her to enter.

  Kola smiled as she followed the burly six-three man and stepped into a palace.

  “Nice,” Kola uttered.

  After stepping into the living room, she looked around the place and was impressed with the gold pillars and high ceilings. It felt like the remnants of heaven had dropped around her. In her eyes, she saw true wealth and fortune. The place was extravagant, with its sprawling black-and-white marble floors, two giant crystal chandeliers that hung high over the living room, complemented by warm walnut and cherry furnishings, and delightful paintings hanging about. There was a large pool and Jacuzzi in the living room, along with a wet bar, plasma TV, and a few plants and trees, creating a lush atmosphere inside. The full-sized balcony along with the large bay windows provided a direct view to the Manhattan skyline across the Hudson River. The place was made for a king.