Coca Kola - The Baddest Chick Page 6

  Eduardo approached Kola a short time later clad in a long terry cotton robe, his expensive gold chain peeking from underneath, and wool slippers on his feet. He had just gotten out of the pool from an evening swim with two of his beautiful female companions.

  He smiled at Kola. “On time. I like it.”

  “I told you that I’m about my business.”

  Eduardo stared down at the duffel bag.

  “I’m here for that re-up. There’s an extra twenty-five thousand dollars in the bag from what I owed you from last time.”

  “Impressive.”

  Eduardo picked up the bag of money and quickly went through it. He nodded in approval and passed the bag over to one of his men. He then focused his attention back to Kola. “I never thought you would do it.”

  “Never doubt a sister. I told you, I’m a businesswoman.”

  Eduardo chuckled. “I see this now. Relax. You need a drink?”

  “I just want to get this shit done with.”

  “You in a rush?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Don’t be. Mi casa es su casa.”

  Eduardo eyed Kola’s beautiful figure. He admired her sassiness. There was something about her that was different. He walked over to the bar and fixed a drink for himself and one for Kola, even though she’d refused. Eduardo was the type who didn’t take no for an answer.

  Kola remained calm. She sighed lightly, crossed her legs, and looked around the room. Eduardo walked over, smiled at Kola, passed one of the glasses to her, and sat opposite to her. He crossed his legs, sat back in the chair coolly, and asked Kola, “So, same as before?”

  “Nothing more, nothing less.”

  He nodded. “I rarely meet women like you . . . ambitious in this game.”

  “I told you, I’m a different kind of bitch.”

  “Young too.”

  “I get money at any age.”

  “Business is good, I see.”

  “Business is fuckin’ great.” Kola smiled.

  Eduardo raised his glass toward her and toasted. “To us . . . to business.”

  Kola raised her glass. “To business.”

  They both took a sip from their glasses. Kola couldn’t believe she had a direct link to a Colombian connect. It was something out of a movie for her. She was ready to run with it until the wheels started to fall off. She wanted Eduardo to trust her, and the only way she saw that happening was to keep making him a lot of money by being a loyal customer over time.

  Kola still felt like she betrayed Cross somewhat. She wanted to be on his good side and was determined to make it up to him in some way. Cross looked out for her, and she could never forget about him. She wondered why Eduardo only wanted to deal with her in the future, when it was clear to her that he was a sexist.

  After a half hour of drinking and talking with Eduardo, she started feeling comfortable around him. Eduardo was a very intelligent man, knowledgeable in history, politics, and other fields. Kola was highly impressed by the way he talked. He was a gangster, but carried himself like a businessman. She learned that he owned buildings in Colombia and had most of the government officials there in his pocket.

  Eduardo stood up from his seat with the empty glass in his hand and called over one of his men. The burly armed guard in the dark suit walked over with a duffel bag clutched in his hand. He dropped it between Kola and Eduardo and walked away.

  “Twelve ki’s,” Eduardo uttered.

  Kola nodded.

  Eduardo locked eyes with Kola. The look in his eyes showed his attraction for her. Kola immediately picked up on it and knew it was time for her to leave. She had what she came for. She set her empty glass on the table near her chair and stood up to reach for her coat.

  Eduardo moved closer to her, his eyes on her stylish attire. He had the urge to reach out and take her into his arms. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Kola.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kola put on her coat while Eduardo just stood there watching her. He was a man of power and influence, and he always got whatever he wanted. With the money and muscle he had, the world was at his feet.

  Kola had concern that Eduardo wanted her, but she was not for sale and was ready to be stern with him, if necessary.

  As she picked up the duffel bag, she heard Eduardo say, “Next time.”

  “Yeah, next time,” she replied coolly.

  Eduardo tipped his chin her way and allowed Kola to leave. Eduardo kept his eyes on her until she was out the door.

  Kola hurried out of the building and to her car, feeling that her looks were both a blessing and a curse. She tossed the duffel bag into the trunk, jumped into the driver’s seat of her Benz, and sped back to Harlem. She rushed to the city to see Cross. Business in Harlem had picked up for them significantly, and Cross’ name still rang out through the blocks of Harlem like he was an icon. Kola didn’t want to take that away from her man, and even though she had the connect, Cross still had the reputation. The only people who knew about their arrangement with Eduardo were themselves and Edge, who’d made it known that he had a problem with Kola running the show.

  ***

  The two men had gotten into a heated argument over the situation. Edge feared Kola would become a problem and come between his friendship with Cross.

  “That bitch double-crossed you, nigga,” Edge had shouted to Cross.

  “It is what it is right now, Edge. I’m dealing with it, not you,” Cross had sternly replied.

  “Fuck that, nigga! She’s in our shit. She fuckin’ back-doored you, Cross. I don’t fuckin’ trust that. I don’t fuckin’ trust her! Wake the fuck up!”

  “Watch yourself, Edge!”

  ***

  Kola pulled up in a quiet middle-class neighborhood in Harlem, where the residents minded their business, and the police rarely patrolled. It was a windy fall evening, and the narrow tree-lined block was cluttered with parked cars. She parked in front of the three-story brownstone on 138th Street with four ki’s in the trunk and a .380 under her seat. She dialed the core man inside, and he picked up after the second ring.

  “I’m outside,” Kola said.

  “A’ight,” the man replied.

  Kola waited a minute until DJ exited the brownstone dressed in a brown Nautica jacket and a Yankees fitted. She watched his approach from the rearview mirror, and when he was closer to the car, she popped the trunk. DJ knew the routine. He removed the duffel bag from the trunk and slammed it shut. He was one of their preferred clients because he could afford to pay in advance. He trusted the couple and had the sixty-four thousand in cash to drop on pure, uncut coke.

  DJ was from Harlem but had moved out to Cleveland, Ohio a few years earlier and set up shop there with a rough crew. He was a heavyweight in the Midwest, making frequent trips into New York for his re-up with Cross.

  Kola watched DJ from the rearview mirror as he nonchalantly walked back into the brownstone with the bag. She started smoking a cigarette, thinking to herself, she would be able to move more than twelve ki’s a week.

  ***

  Kola walked into her magnificent home on the hills and dropped the duffel bag filled with money on the table in front of Cross—$500,000.

  Cross sat back in his chair and looked up at Kola. He couldn’t contain his smile any longer. His girl was a true hustler, and he respected that.

  Kola beamed. “That’s all us, baby.”

  “Damn!”

  “I told you, we gettin’ this money, baby. We puttin’ Chico out of business with the shit we putting out there. They can’t get enough of our shit.”

  Kola took a seat on Cross’ lap and began kissing on him. She loved the way his lips felt against hers, and the way he pushed his tongue into her mouth made her pussy flow. She couldn’t get enough of him.

  Before long Cross no longer cared that his woman was dealing with their connect. The flow of money became his main concern along with dominating the streets of Harlem. Kola was able to handle herself, and his doubt and
anger was gone once the money started pouring in. Chico was slowly fading out of the game.

  “Let’s go out, baby . . . celebrate,” Kola suggested.

  “Like where?”

  “Anywhere. I just wanna look good for you tonight and have a good time.” Kola straddled Cross in the chair and started kissing on him again.

  Cross reached around Kola and grabbed her ass firmly. He loved how her succulent ass cheeks felt in his grip. Kola felt the hard-on bulging in Cross’ jeans, and that made her yearn for the feel of him even more.

  They kissed passionately while Kola grinded her pussy into his lap. She wanted to fuck him, to feel every inch of him thrusting inside of her.

  Cross picked up Kola into his arms and carried her into the bedroom as she laughed like a little schoolgirl. He gently placed her on the bed and began undressing himself.

  Kola stared at the treasure that was hers, admiring the rippling abs that lined his stomach and his rich, dark skin that was tight like Saran Wrap around his bone structure.

  “Damn, baby!” she uttered with a smile.

  Kola hurriedly unbuttoned her jeans and tore off her blouse like a lunatic. She didn’t have time for the foreplay. She wanted some dick. She was naked in a heartbeat and reached up for Cross to pull him down on top of her.

  “Fuck me, baby!” she exclaimed in his ear.

  She positioned herself on her back, spreading her long legs for Cross to take her like the beast he was. She loved the way Cross took control of her body. He wasn’t scared to fuck her the way she liked it—rough and with the hair-pulling.

  Cross situated his thick, naked frame between Kola’s legs and thrust his steel dick into her, making her squirm in his hold.

  Kola arched her back and threw her legs around Cross tightly. “Ooooh, fuck me, daddy,” she cooed.

  Her eyes watered and her legs quivered. The dick inside of her felt like the sun in her face after spending too much time in the dark. She panted in his ear and ran her manicured nails down the center of his back, feeling his sweat saturating her skin as he pressed down on top of her with her tits mashed against his chest. Cross then held her legs in a vertical position while continuing to ram his steel pipe deep into her.

  “Ooooh, baby! Ooooh, I fuckin’ love you,” she cried out.

  The missionary position felt too good for both of them. Kola had him weakened and clawing the sheets. She nibbled at his ear while pressing her thighs into his side as he fucked her until she babbled. She felt her body about to go into a convulsion from the pounding she was enduring. The dick was always good to her.

  “I’m coming!” she purred.

  Right then Kola felt his explosion inside of her and held her boo tight against her sweaty frame. She never wanted to let him go. She always felt secure around him.

  Kola lay across Cross’ chest and massaged a small piece of him, soothing his need. The way Cross fucked and kissed on her was a pure indication of how much he loved her. Their sexual rendezvous was always memorable night after night, with Kola always feeling stimulated and complete.

  Though it was getting late, Kola was still in the mood to go out somewhere and have a good time. She felt that now was the time to mention buying more bricks from Eduardo.

  She raised herself up from his chest, looked her man in the eyes, and said, “Baby, I was thinking maybe we should step up our purchase next time around.”

  “What you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean, business is good, baby. So let’s step it up a few more bricks. I mean, as soon as I get them, they gone, baby.”

  Cross looked at Kola with a deadpan stare. She didn’t know what he was thinking. She was nervous about bringing up the subject, but it would be a lot more money for them both.

  “How much more you talking about?”

  “I was thinking maybe fifteen or twenty bricks.”

  “That’s a lot of weight, baby.”

  “I know, but we got the clientele and the muscle. Who gonna fuck wit’ us, baby? I mean, our shit’s moving like pussy out there. Chico is getting weak, and since we locked down this wholesale thing, we’ll be able to tap into muthafuckas in so many fuckin’ states.”

  She hugged up against Cross, kissed him on the lips, and continued with, “Think about it, baby. You and me, we can run all this shit. Who’s gonna touch us?”

  Cross liked the idea of it, but state-to-state trafficking was risky business. They were about to step on plenty of toes, including Chico’s.

  “Fuck it! Let’s do it, baby. I’m down.”

  “You serious?”

  “You and me together, with our brains and the muscle we got, you’re right—who’s gonna touch us? We in this to win it, right?”

  “Of course, baby. Ooooh, I love you so much.”

  Cross grinned. “You do, huh?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “So show me how much you love me.”

  Kola grinned. She was more than willing to show her man the love she had for him. She disappeared under the sheets and caressed his nut sack gently, massaging and twisting his balls like it was Play-Doh. Her lips caught the head of his thickening pole, and she flicked her tongue away at the mushroom tip as she stroked it with her soft, manicured hands.

  Cross gasped and shuddered. “Oh, baby, that feels so good,” he moaned.

  Cross tried to control it, but using her skills, Kola toyed with him. She could feel the pressure building in him, feeling the semen mounting as she continued to jerk and suck his dick.

  “Oh, baby, I love you,” Cross cooed. “Oh shit! Ooooh, shit!”

  Kola stopped, squeezed his balls hard, bit his nipples, and purred, “Give it to me, big daddy.”

  No sooner, Cross released himself into Kola’s mouth, and she swallowed every bit of him without a second thought. She nestled in Cross’ arms, thinking it was going to be a really good year for the both of them.

  Chapter 8

  Chico sat in the passenger seat of the dark blue Impala on Fifth Avenue, across the street from Lincoln Projects. His cousin Dante was a menacing figure in a pair of dark shades and a dark hoodie as he sat behind the wheel, both men watching everything that moved.

  Dante had arrived in New York via LaGuardia Airport twenty-four hours earlier and was ready to get back into business with Chico right away. He saw Chico in despair about Apple’s condition and wanted to make it right. He had in his possession a .50 Desert Eagle, his favorite gun. The weapon was intimidating like him, and once a man was shot with it, he wasn’t getting back up.

  It was late in the evening, the sun being a memory as night loomed over the city. The traffic was dying as the time ticked toward midnight.

  Chico wanted to find the crackhead named Joe, even if he had to tear Harlem apart looking for him. But he knew a crackhead wasn’t going to be that hard to find. He’d sent a few goons out on the streets, putting the buzz in a few people’s ears that he would pay a hundred dollars if they knew where to find Joe.

  Within a few hours, it had gotten back to Chico’s goons that Joe spent the majority of his time in the stairwell of the Lincoln Projects or at a hole-in-the-wall spot off Lenox Avenue. He wasn’t at the spot on Lenox, so Chico figured he was hiding in a stairwell of the building.

  Chico was eager to have a word with Joe in private, and then he would be ready to tear the man apart. He was burning inside thinking about the incident.

  “What’s on your mind, Chico?” Dante asked.

  “Nothin’ much. Just thinking.”

  “We gonna find this muthafucka, Chico . . . make the puta talk and then fuck his whole shit up.”

  “Muthafucka disrespected mines, Dante. You should see her. She’s a mess right now.”

  “And I’m here to make it right.”

  Chico took a pull from his cigarette and reclined in his seat. He felt untouchable with Dante back in town. He gripped the .45 in his hand and stared out the window, his mind wandering.

  Chico had learned that Cross had cut his price
down to sixteen thousand a ki, and even though Chico was selling his birds cheaper at fifteen, his clients were choosing quality over his lower price.

  “How dare these muthafuckas! They come at my bitch, and now this nigga Cross tryin’ to move in on my shit. I want ’em dead. Fuckin’ dead!”

  “I’m gonna make it happen, cuzzo. Just be patient.”

  The two continued to sit and wait, knowing Joe would be found sooner or later. They had too much muscle and too many informants spread out everywhere in Harlem for him not to be spotted.

  Dante looked over at his cousin with a curious stare. “What’s up wit’ this bitch anyway? Why you so into her, Chico?”

  “She do her thang, yo. I mean, she’s smart, and when we met, she wasn’t looking for a handout like most of these bitches. She had her own thing going wit’ this loan-sharking, and she had her own soldiers too. I liked that, man.”

  Dante nodded. “A’ight.”

  “And, besides, she reminds me of Nikki.”

  “She do?”

  “Yeah, her style, and the way she carry herself, sometimes I confuse Apple with Nikki.”

  “She ain’t her, though, Chico. That was a long time ago. You gotta let that shit go, cuzzo. I know that shit is still eating away at you.”

  “I try, man, but I know it’s my fault. If I was only there, it wouldn’t have gone down like that.”

  “But you weren’t, and it did. You were locked up. What the fuck were you able to do? Nothing!”

  “Nah, I promised I would always be there for her and protect her. I loved her, and for niggas to violate her like that . . . Muthafuckas!”

  “I got two out of five, and believe me, Chico, the two I caught suffered like they were in the hands of the devil himself. I tried to get them to talk. Even had both their balls squeezed in a pair of vise grips and under a hot flame, but they were tough. They knew, after that, not to fuck wit’ you.”

  ***

  Chico thoughts went from Apple to his first love, Nikki, who was killed ten years earlier. He was eighteen then. He was incarcerated on drug charges and beefing with a rival crew for control of a profitable drug corner in Washington Heights. Chico’s name had been ringing out since he was fifteen, and Nikki had been his sweetheart since they were fourteen.