Face Off--The Baddest Chick 4 Page 7

  Kola followed behind Danielle, and the two continued to talk as they circled the yard, minding their business, feeling the hard gravel under their feet.

  “So what you gonna do, Kola?” Danielle pressed.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Time is running out, girl. You wanna be stuck in this bitch?”

  Kola didn’t, but reaching out to New York would have its cost.

  “All I’m sayin’, sometimes you gotta bend the knees and humble yourself if you wanna advance and do you. Shit, we’re the same, Kola. You’re a damn hustler—a fuckin’ go-getter. We get ours, and right now, you ain’t gettin’ shit being stuck in here behind these walls. Reach out to your peoples, get what you can from them, and once you got yourself goin’ again, fuck ’em!”

  Kola smiled.

  Danielle was right. She was a sitting duck behind prison walls. She felt like a bird without wings; a fish that couldn’t swim. It was time to take action.

  The two ladies continued to talk until their time in the enclosed courtyard came to an end. The inmates were escorted back inside for the evening; they walked into the jail in one long line, heavily watched by the guards and checked for weapons or contraband.

  Being in that courtyard gave Kola a little bit of hope. The sun beaming down on her from high above reminded her of some really better days.

  Kola went to use the phone. She called home to New York collect to speak to her mother, hoping it wasn’t a mistake. She didn’t want to seem desperate to her moms. It was destroying her that Apple was back in Harlem and getting rich, while she was suffering locked up in Miami. Her situation needed to change right away.

  The phone rang a few times in Denise’s ear, and she picked up aware that it was a collect call from her daughter in a Miami detention center. She immediately accepted the call.

  “Kola,” Denise cried out.

  “Ma, we need to talk,” Kola replied in a child-like voice. She felt her voice cracking as she became emotional.

  “Now you wanna talk?” Denise returned sharply.

  “It’s not the time to hear your damn mouth, Ma. I’m in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I fucked up, and I might need to get in contact wit’ Apple.”

  “Apple hasn’t been around since she came back. But I’m gonna reach out to her. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Kola sighed heavily. “Thank you, Ma,” she said humbly.

  Kola felt that her sister, of all people, probably wouldn’t want to see her locked down. Despite their bitterness toward each other, they were still blood.

  Kola continued to inform her mother about the situation she was in. They talked for a moment, and for once, Denise was finally acting like a mother to her child. The fret in Denise’s voice displayed the concern she had for Kola. And, for Kola, hearing someone from home trying to comfort her brought about more than a slight ease to her. She held back the tears that started to well up in her eyes and just confessed to her moms like she was under oath.

  Eight

  Denise threw the dick down her throat like it was a tasty meal. Her full lips wrapped around the nine-inch monster with goodwill, its mushroom tip ramming the back of her throat. The moans from the room grew louder and louder. Denise cupped the young stud’s nuts and sucked and jerked him off simultaneously, her saliva wetting every inch of his privates.

  He grabbed the back of her head, and his fingers clung to her long braids as her deep-throat actions traveled farther south on his long, stiff shaft. “Oooh, shit!” he moaned. “Suck that dick, baby. Oooh, feels so good!”

  Denise quickly got naked and was ready to play with Raymond for the whole evening. Raymond was a local hustler trying to come up in Harlem. Twenty-two years old, he had the body of a gladiator, with his thick arms and powerful chest, his tight cornrows extending down to his back, and his body swathed with tattoos and battle scars.

  Denise loved her young thugs. Fifteen years his senior, she was yearning to feel his hard dick curve inside of her.

  Raymond coiled Denise over the leather couch, spreading her legs, arching her back, her luscious tits dangling like juicy fruits ready to be picked from a tall tree. He vigorously slid himself into her sweet, creamy hole, and she released a howl, feeling the rigid penetration slam into her.

  She tightened her grip around the couch. “Ooooh shit, daddy,” she cooed. “Throw that dick into me.”

  Raymond’s hand pushed down on the small of her back, and with the other hand, he reached around and cupped her tits as he fucked her from the back.

  The dick inside of her felt like cement expanding between her pink walls, as it tunneled inside of her with the intent to please every border of her flesh. “Fuck me, Raymond! Damn, your dick is so big!”

  As the two were lost in the moment of passion and lust, Denise’s cell phone began to buzz on the glass countertop. She chose to ignore it. She was ready to come.

  The ringing stopped.

  Denise threw her phat, round ass back into the man’s pelvis, taking his entire monstrous dick inside of her like a porn star. She closed her eyes and continued to howl as Raymond went to work on the pussy.

  They went from fucking doggy-style, to Denise on her back, her legs vertical in the air, and her knees almost touching her ears as Raymond was perched over her, slamming his hard dick into that pussy like a sledgehammer. Denise proved her flexibility, contorted crossways across the leather couch, the dick burrowing into her like a drill.

  Her phone rang again.

  Denise gazed up at Raymond, who was spread out on top of her and handling his business like a thorough muthafucka is supposed to. He didn’t let anything distract him. He was focused like an A student.

  “Just fuck me, baby!” Denise cried out.

  This time, Denise took the dick while lying on her stomach—froggy-style, her butt cheeks spread open, her sweet sap continually dripping between her thighs, as Raymond pressed against her, snaking his nine inches of solid length into her.

  Her pussy was contracting around his girth. She felt herself about to come. But the abrupt, hard knocking at her apartment door threw her for a loop. She wasn’t expecting any company.

  Raymond raised himself up and stared at the door, his body glistening with sweat. Confused, he turned to look at Denise for answers, but she didn’t have anything to say to him. She shrugged.

  The banging at the door continued and echoed throughout the apartment.

  Raymond stood to his feet and reached for his jeans. He was thinking it was a jealous boyfriend, maybe an ex-lover coming by to pay Denise an unexpected visit. He hurried to put on his jeans and grabbed his pistol. If an ex-boyfriend or a current boyfriend wanted to charge into the apartment and start acting up, then he was ready to put a few hot ones into his chest and keep it moving.

  Denise donned a long robe and went to the door, her face in a heated scowl as she tied her robe. She looked through the peephole while Raymond stood in the living room shirtless, pistol in hand and held down by his side.

  “What the fuck!”

  “What’s wrong, ma?”

  Denise quickly unlocked the door and swung it open. “Apple!”

  “Hey, Denise,” Apple returned dryly.

  “Oh my God! Look at you.” Denise was shocked to see Apple’s face looking almost brand-new.

  “Can I come in?” Apple asked. “I tried to call, but you ain’t answering ya damn phone.”

  Behind Apple stood Terri, her shadow and protector. He stared at Denise with his usual stoic expression.

  “Of course, you can come in, baby.” Denise stepped to the side and allowed for the two to enter her apartment.

  Apple walked in and locked her eyes on the young man who stood in the center of her mother’s living room with the pistol in his hand. She didn’t flinch, but kept her cool, as did Terri, when they noticed Raymond.

  Apple shot a look at her moms, saying with her eyes, You still haven’t changed at all, have you?
<
br />   Denise read Apple’s look. “Bitch, don’t come in here and start judging me. I wasn’t expecting to have any company over this evening.”

  “I just came to talk”—She looked at Raymond—“in private.”

  “Raymond, baby, leave us for a minute.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I need to have a serious talk with my daughter.”

  Raymond nodded. Then he collected his things and walked toward the door. Denise followed behind him, and before he made his exit, the two kissed fervently while Apple and Terri watched.

  “To be continued,” Denise whispered in Raymond’s ear, causing him to smile.

  “Most definite, ma. I was enjoying that pussy.”

  “And I was enjoying that dick too. Sorry we had to be interrupted, but I gotta take care of family issues.”

  “I understand.”

  “But you know my pussy ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  Raymond smiled again, and they locked tongues once more.

  “Denise, I don’t have all fuckin’ day,” Apple chimed.

  Denise released an irate sigh and slammed the door behind Raymond. She spun around to face her daughter. “Bitch, you in my home now, so be fuckin’ respectful. I didn’t know you was coming.”

  “Just be happy I came to see you at all, after everything you put me through.”

  Denise quickly took in Apple’s wardrobe and knew her daughter had come up once more. Her jeans hugged her curves, her top was definitely from Fifth Avenue, her shoes were stunning, and her diamond earrings were the size of blueberries.

  But the biggest shock was Apple’s face. It was a miracle that she almost looked like her old beautiful self.

  Denise went toward her daughter and slowly reached out to try and touch where her burns used to cover parts of her skin. Apple stepped back, preventing her mother from placing any hands on her.

  “How?” Denise inquired.

  “Money, and some great fuckin’ doctors.”

  “You look good, Apple. I’m glad to see you again. And who’s your friend?”

  “Someone you don’t need to concern yourself with right now.”

  Denise sighed.

  “Why come to my home wit’ this hostility toward me? Was I that bad to you, Apple?”

  “You wasn’t that good.”

  Denise huffed and reached for her pack of Newports that was lying on the dining room table. She removed a cigarette and quickly lit it. She took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke from her nose like steam coming from a locomotive.

  She then fixed her eyes back onto her daughter. “Look at you. I hear you tryin’ to become the queen of Harlem or somethin’.”

  “I’m just trying to take back what is rightfully mines.”

  Denise chuckled. “And what is rightfully yours?”

  “My respect out here, and then my revenge.”

  “You ain’t gonna never learn, Apple.”

  “I’ve been learning and getting better at it.”

  “You came here to gloat, huh, Apple? You came to show someone that you’re better than your mother, ya own flesh and blood? You’re still that little girl, but so angry inside.”

  “I’m no longer that little girl, Denise. Look at me. I have everything that you ever dreamed of, plus more, and I did this on my own.”

  “And soon you’re gonna be where your sister is right now, if you keep the way ya goin’. She’s locked down in Miami. I heard the feds finally came for her.”

  “Fuck Kola!”

  “She’s your sister, Apple. You would let her rot away in a Florida prison?”

  “We ain’t been sisters in a long time, Denise, and you haven’t been a mother to me in a long time too.”

  “Apple, baby, listen. You can’t take on the world by yourself. Now Kola is still family, despite what you think.”

  “I don’t need any fuckin’ family. The only family I have in my life right now is those that are ready to kill for me and help me take out my revenge.” Apple motioned her head toward Terri, who stood silently with his arms folded in front of him.

  “We are your family,” Denise shouted.

  “If you was family and loved me like you claimed, then why no one came lookin’ for me while I was being held hostage, raped, and tortured in that Mexican brothel? Huh? Where was my family then? Why didn’t Kola come lookin’ for me? Y’all really think I just picked up and left on my own?”

  Her mother fell silent for a moment. She felt sorry for her daughter’s misfortune. She had heard the stories about Apple and Mexico.

  “Let’s just talk, Apple, you and me, mother and daughter. No one else around.”

  “We have nothing to talk about.”

  “Yes, we do. I have plenty to tell you.”

  Apple felt reluctant. She had the urge to just leave, but she hesitated. She turned to look at Terri, who was silent and waiting for her instructions.

  “Wait outside for a minute, Terri. I need to have a private talk with my mother.” Terri nodded and left the apartment.

  Denise shut the door behind him then pivoted on her feet and gazed at Apple. “I knew somethin’ had happened to you. It just wasn’t like you to up and disappear like that. I wanted to look for you. We all did, but where was I to start?”

  “That’s only an excuse, Denise.”

  “Look, we all made mistakes.”

  “Fuck that! While I was rotting away in that place, being raped every day, and crying, everybody was getting rich and living a good life, forgetting about me. I was dying over there. And you expect me to just come home, sweep all that shit under the rug like it was nothing, and be fuckin’ forgiving? Are you serious? People must pay for what happened to me.”

  “At what cost, Apple? Look at you. You’re strong. After all that, you came back from that, and you came up. I look at you, and it didn’t break you. I see you’re a wealthy woman again.”

  “And don’t expect a fuckin’ dime from me, Denise. I did for you once, and I’m not goin’ to do for you again.”

  “I don’t want shit from you, but peace of mind.”

  Apple sighed. “Whatever. Seeing blood spill from those that did me wrong will give me my peace of mind. I fell and was vulnerable once, but I guarantee I won’t fall, become vulnerable, or be humiliated ever again.”

  “And are you ready to spill your sister’s blood too?”

  “That bitch gets in my way, I’ll gut her like a fuckin’ pig too.”

  “Apple, what is wrong with you?”

  “Look at me, Denise—I’m not a bitch to fuck with.”

  Denise shook her head. “Of course, you’re not. But let me tell you something, Apple, you and Kola will one day need each other again, believe in that. I warned Kola about Miami, but she didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen. Now she’s fuckin’ caught up wit’ the feds down there, and that cousin Nikki, I don’t trust her. Your sister doesn’t have a lawyer or money for bail.”

  “What that got to do wit’ me?”

  “In all y’all years of hustling, neither one of y’all got knocked. But things will change for you, Apple, faster than you know it.”

  “You threatening me, Denise?”

  “This is not a threat, it’s a prediction.”

  Apple laughed it off.

  Denise knew she couldn’t talk any sense into her daughter, who was steadfast in causing her own destruction. The hatred and bitterness was set deep into Apple’s eyes, and there was no changing her mind or her ways anytime soon.

  Denise took a few more pulls from her cigarette as she continued to give Apple the 4-1-1 on her sister’s dire situation. About Nikki, Denise said, “That bitch can’t be trusted. She’s my niece, but she ain’t family.”

  “No one can be trusted,” Apple spat.

  Apple was barely listening. Her heart was black like tar and cold like ice. She only wanted revenge. And she was ready to shake the hood to its core to fuck up those who’d done her dirty.

  Apple left her mother’s apartment
with no kind of change in her. Denise could only watch her daughter leave and know it was about to get a lot worse.

  Nine

  The streets of Harlem were quiet for the moment. The stillness in the air was like a dead calm from block to block. The sun had faded a short moment ago, and the dusk was balmy. The local residents in the project buildings on 115th Street in East Harlem were enjoying the spring sunset, but they were worried about the escalating violence in the area. There was a war going on in Harlem, and certain blocks felt like Baghdad. There was a shooting almost every night, or every other night, even though the cops were doing their regular patrol, driving around in marked cruisers, and walking the beat, moving through the projects and making their presence known.

  But a different breed of killers seemed to be lurking about. They had no respect for the NYPD at all, and they had no respect for life. These killers only knew how to do one thing, and that was murder. This out-of-town team of killers would gun down their enemies in public in broad daylight, in front of schools. And there was also kidnappings and torture. Harlem was relapsing—becoming what it was in the eighties again. Civilians were afraid to come out after a certain hour because of heavily armed gangs.

  From 115th Street to 145th Street, East Harlem was becoming a nightmare of a place to live. And there was one name behind it all—Apple. She had come back to her hometown with a fiery desire to destroy everything and anything that had done her wrong, and she didn’t care who or what got in her way. Once she set the wolves loose to hunt, it seemed like they were devouring everything in their paths.

  There was a task force set out to capture criminals, and the NYPD would make arrests, but it wasn’t enough. These soldiers from the South and a few from the Mexican cartels didn’t give a fuck about police. They would rush into homes and kill families, cutting off arms, heads, and fingers as a warning to others. These killers would shoot up a city block and set fire to homes, trying to eradicate everything. There was no denying it—Harlem was becoming a war zone, like a small Mexican town.

  ***

  Apple sat in the backseat of the gleaming black Tahoe and watched two men walk into the towering project building on 115th Street. The outside to the project lobby was occupied with local Blood members with their sagging jeans, red bandannas, and beads, and gambling in the pathway to the building, as they smoked and drank. She took a few pulls from the cigarette burning between her lips and watched the area like a hawk, her back window tinted and rolled down only a quarter.