Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick Read online

Page 9


  Nichols didn’t answer him. Instead, she stared into his tempting brown eyes, her eyes smiling back. She was hot and bothered, and was itching to feel the touch of a man inside her. She had witnessed her sisters’ promiscuous actions many times and had heard them and their friends boast about how great it was being in love, and being dicked down so good that their legs quivered when they came and their bodies felt stuck to wherever they lay after making love. Nichols was yearning for that feeling. She wanted to feel what her sisters and friends felt. She assumed she had found love with Delray, though she’d only been with him for a few hours, since her pussy was throbbing uncontrollably.

  “You down, baby?” Delray asked.

  “Yeah, I’m down.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The small room in the two-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side reeked of weed and was cluttered with rumpled clothes, kicked-off sneakers, plates containing food remnants, and video games scattered across the squeaky Shaw hardwood floor. The walls were covered with posters of rappers, athletes, and voluptuous women, oiled and wearing next to nothing, and with the only piece of furniture in the room being an unmade wood platform bed positioned in the center, it resembled the typical bachelor’s crib.

  Nichols looked around the cramped bedroom. The place reminded her of home, so she wasn’t taken aback by the mess. Delray moved farther into the bedroom and removed his tank top, tossing it on the untidy bed and exposing his rock-hard abs. He was like a perfectly designed sculpture, his brown skin impeccably wrapped around tightly developed flesh that gleamed with sex appeal.

  Delray cleared the bed, tossing everything on the floor, and picked up the remote to the television. He then took a seat at the end of the bed, turned on the TV, and gestured for Nichols to join him. Nichols walked forward and sat closely to him, knowing what he wanted—sex. Feeling his hand slowly glide up her thigh and under her skirt, she knew she was making it too easy for him.

  He slowly leaned her back and cupped her breasts, positioning her for sex. “You like me?” he asked with a smile.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “’Cause I really like you.”

  Nichols smiled and then felt him tugging at her panties. He gripped the sides tightly and tried to yank them off. At first, she tried to close her legs to prevent them from being pulled off, but between Delray’s soft look, his light kisses to the inside of her bellybutton, and his kind, soothing words, within five minutes, her panties came sliding off.

  Delray began fondling Nichols. He gently pushed his index and middle finger into her, and recognized she was a virgin. That excited him and made him want her even more, knowing he would be the first to pop her cherry with his thick dick.

  Nichols lay on her back, her panties lost in the debris on the floor, and her bra unsnapped and almost completely off.

  Delray pulled up her skirt and played with her pubic hair. He had the innocent sixteen-year-old in the palm of his hand and was taking his sweet time with her. He had all night to toy with her.

  As he sucked on Nichols’ hard nipples, he unzipped his pants and slid out of them. He then positioned himself between her shapely thighs. Delray wanted to find his rhythm and fuck her correctly without it hurting her, but the strong urge to penetrate her had quickly taken over. He just wanted to take her virginity and come inside her.

  Before Nichols could protest and mention anything about a condom, Delray had the tip of his dick breaking through her walls. He held her down on the mattress firmly and thrust himself into her, causing her to scream out in pain.

  “Ouch! Ouch!” she cried out, dragging her nails down the center of his back and bracing herself for the worst of it.

  Delray didn’t care about her cries of pain. He wanted to fuck, and he wanted to be rough. Nichols gritted her teeth and wanted to pull herself from underneath him, but the weight of his body kept her pinned between him and the mattress. She felt her vagina being torn open from his girth, and since this was her first time, she was experiencing more pain than pleasure.

  Delray pounded into Nichols with little sympathy for her virgin state. He squeezed her thighs and breasts, grunted in her ear as he felt his nut brewing, and didn’t notice the tears developing in her young eyes as the blood ran down her thighs.

  “Ouch! Slow . . . please, slow,” Nichols pleaded.

  Ignoring her, Delray continued, his fist clutching the sheets soiled from previous use, and sweat pouring from his brow.

  The room had no fan or air conditioning, and the summer heat was the only thing that circulated in the bedroom. Nichols’ breasts were sweaty against Delray’s chest, and the pounding inside of her seemed unrelenting. She closed her eyes, bit down on her bottom lip, and endured the pain, realizing he didn’t plan to stop anytime soon. He seemed transfixed by the pain he was causing her. Nichols hadn’t imagined losing her virginity this way. She’d always fantasized about a man like Delray, but always thought he would be more gentle and caring, that the sex would be easygoing and loving.

  Nichols swore she saw someone watching them from the doorway, but his penis going in and out of her like a freight train kept her distracted.

  “Oh shit! I’m comin’!” Delray grunted. He danced on top of her, feeling his nut coming soon. He bit Nichols’ nipple, causing her to scream out, and then wrapped his hand around her neck tightly as he came inside of her.

  Nichols gasped, feeling Delray’s penis going deeper. He shook like he was having a seizure. When he was done, he got up, shook his penis, exhaled, and looked for his stuff. It felt like he had just gone to the bathroom on her. Nichols lay there in tears. Between her thighs was red with blood. Delray didn’t even offer her a towel to clean herself with.

  Before she could get up and reach for her belongings, three men suddenly appeared in the room, startling her. She knew something was wrong, but before she could react, she found herself pinned down by her arms and screaming for help, while a second man rushed between her legs, thrusting into her for a quick and forceful fuck.

  “Relax, girl. We just tryin’ to have some fun wit’ you, and then we’ll get down to business,” Delray proclaimed with a devious smile.

  *****

  A few hours later, Nichols found herself bonded with handcuffs to a steel radiator, butt naked, bleeding, and scared. She was at another location and didn’t remember how she’d arrived there. The ground was cold and the place haunting, with its rusty exposed pipes overhead, and the barren concrete walls made the dingy basement look like a dark dungeon. Three men stood around her, gawking at her, delighted to see her captive like some zoo animal.

  Nichols cried out, her eyes swollen from crying and her face panic-stricken. She searched the room for any sight of Delray. She wanted an explanation from him. Her pussy was so sore, she couldn’t even sit in a correct posture. And she didn’t know how many men had raped her, because she had passed out from the abuse.

  The men waited around, obviously for the alpha male to show up, and he soon arrived. Supreme walked into the basement with his number one guy right behind him, Guy Tony. He looked at Nichols with amusement. He went up to the scared Nichols, hunched down, and stroked her face like a concerned parent. Nichols flinched, moving away from him, but she was restricted. The handcuffs cut into her wrist, and she ached from the pain.

  “You’re here ’cause of your sisters, Nichols. They fuck wit’ me, I fuck wit’ them. But don’t worry, when I get my money, you get let go. Until then, get comfortable,” Supreme said.

  Nichols cried out, “No!”

  Supreme stood over the naked girl and admired her body. He loved the way her curves rounded every inch of her and how succulent her tits looked. Her skin looked so soft and she was just so innocent. He knew Delray and his goons already had their way with her. They were vicious like that—a group of bloodthirsty hounds that would, for the right price, do anything he asked.

  Supreme knew Delray would be the right man for the job. He needed a smooth-talking pimp to convince Nichols into lea
ving with him, one that she’d even trust, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. He didn’t want to force the girl off the street and draw attention to himself, so he and Delray had watched Nichols and Dina the entire day as they walked up and down 125th Street, going in and out of stores, and then waited as the two were inside Hue-Man Bookstore.

  When they saw Dina exit the store without Nichols, Delray knew it was perfect. They followed Nichols from the store, and Delray made sure they stopped at the red light where she was about to cross the street, so he could make eye contact with her. Everything had worked out as planned. Nichols was too gullible; she wasn’t like her sisters. And with the right game, he had her eating out of his hand.

  Nichols curled up and continued to cry. She was so scared, she wanted to pee on herself, but she figured the worst was over. She was being held for ransom, and she figured Kola would pay up for her release, so for the time being, she closed her eyes and tried to think positively.

  Supreme left his two goons to watch her closely, but once the doors were shut behind him, the violation and abuse began again. Both men stripped from their jeans, swollen dicks in hand, and raped and sodomized a defenseless Nichols, whose screams couldn’t penetrate the thick concrete walls and locked doors.

  CHAPTER 12

  It was nearing afternoon, when Apple was suddenly awakened by her mother charging into the bedroom and shouting, “Apple, where the fuck is Nichols? She ain’t come home last night!”

  Apple stirred from her bed, the mention of Nichols not coming home last night making her rise quickly. “Ma, what are you talking about?” She looked over at Nichol’s bed, which was still made, and worry sunk into her like the Titanic. She sprung to her feet. It wasn’t like Nichols to hang out all night and not let anyone know. She rushed toward Kola’s bedroom and banged on the door, but there was no answer. Fuck it! Apple thought. She picked the bedroom lock, and when she and her mother entered Kola’s bedroom, it was empty.

  Then it dawned on Denise. “That bitch probably got my daughter hanging out all night with her.”

  Apple thought the same thing. She tried to call Kola, but her call went straight to voice mail. The two decided to chill, and wait until Kola came home.

  Late afternoon came, and Denise and Apple were watching TV, their nerves on edge. Apple kept calling Kola on her phone, but again her calls when straight to voice mail.

  Apple went to the store, hoping she would run into one of her sisters, but the blocks were empty and quiet. With two murders in the past three days, the cops were on steady patrol and locking up hustlers left and right.

  Kola finally walked through the front door around six in the evening.

  “Kola, where’s Nichols?” Denise asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kola returned with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Nichols ain’t come home last night, Kola,” Apple told her.

  Upon hearing that, Kola’s expression went from that of a bad girl to a worried sister. She looked at her family and spat, “What you mean, she ain’t come home last night? Where the fuck is she?”

  “We tryin’ to find that out now,” Apple said.

  All of a sudden, Kola had the look of a lost soul. She immediately began to think the worst. She knew she had enemies, and wondered if someone got to Nichols in retaliation for something she’d done in her past.

  She quickly got on her phone and began making calls. The first person she called was Dina. After three rings, Dina picked up, and Kola wasted no time. “Dina, where’s Nichols?” she asked frantically.

  “I don’t know. The last time I saw her was yesterday evening. I left her sitting in Hue-Man on Eighth Avenue. Why? What happened?’

  “She ain’t come home last night,” Kola said.

  “What!”

  “You sure that was the last time you saw her?” Kola asked.

  “Yes. She wanted to stay, but I had to leave,” Dina said. “I’m coming over there.”

  After Dina hung up, Kola made a few more phone calls. She called up a few thugs and put the word out that her little sister was missing.

  Denise wanted to call the police, but Kola was against having pigs in her business, knowing her people would be on it. But Denise was adamant about getting law enforcement involved. Nichols was her baby girl, and no matter how harsh she was toward her girls, she still loved them and knew the cops were probably better at finding a missing young girl than anyone else.

  “Ma, I got this!” Kola yelled.

  “I’m calling them, Kola. She’s my fuckin’ daughter!” Denise screamed out.

  “I’ll find her my damn self, and whoever disrespects her or do somethin’ to her, God help them, ’cause they gonna have to deal wit’ me.” Kola charged out the apartment and slammed the door shut, leaving Apple and Denise wondering and worried.

  *****

  Twenty-four hours after Nichols’ disappearance, two detectives entered the untidy apartment, where Denise sat on the couch worrying about her missing daughter. Apple sat next to her and had the same concern.

  The two suit-and-tie detectives looked around the apartment and noticed the tattered furniture, ragged carpeting, and soiled walls, and quickly passed judgment on the mother, figuring the daughter was more of a runaway than a kidnap victim. Still, they had to carry out their job, minus their opinion. They stood over the family, trying to look concerned, but it wasn’t easy for them to reserve judgment. From their experience, many missing young girls sixteen and under were either trying to escape from something at home—abuse, rape, molestation—or in other cases, leaving home in pursuit of love or a dream.

  Detective Miles was tall, young in the face, easy on the eyes, and looked more caring than his partner. He said, “Miss, sometimes a young girl runs away in search of love. Did she have a boyfriend or someone?”

  “My daughter ain’t go chasing behind some fuckin’ boy. She ain’t like that. They took my baby!”

  Detective Greggs was older, shorter, had a graying beard, and appeared to be the father of many. He knew Harlem like the back of his hand. He remembered being a rookie cop during the days when Nicky Barnes and Frank Lucas ran the show. He had watched Harlem change drastically over the years. Witnessed the birth of crack cocaine firsthand. He remembered Rich Porter and Alpo, young kingpins coming up after the older ones died out on the streets or in prison. His thirty-plus years on the force were met with good times, but also racism and neglect. He had seen his fair share of missing young runaways chasing after pimps and boyfriends, thinking they had found love. Years later, they’d be either turning tricks or dying slowly while chasing a high.

  “Did she have any enemies at school or in the neighborhood?” Detective Greggs inquired.

  “No, not my baby.” Denise started sniffling.

  Detective Greggs had seen many mothers heartbroken over their children’s absence. Sometimes, it could have been prevented with good parenting, but other times the child left on their own volition. He remained unfazed by Denise’s tears. Looking at the condition of the apartment, he wondered why Child Protective Services hadn’t already intervened and taken her children away.

  “Look, I’m going to be honest with you,” Greggs told Denise. “She’s young, and the chances are she’s with a boyfriend that you are unaware of. She thinks she’s found love and wants to chase it. Give it some time. She’ll come back.”

  But Denise still wasn’t buying it, so the detectives took down Nichols’ description, and Denise gave them a small headshot Nichols had taken at school. Still, both detectives were reluctant to pursue the case.

  Apple broke her silence. “She don’t have a boyfriend, a’ight! My little sister tells me everything. If she was dealing wit’ someone, then I damn sure woulda known about it.”

  “We’ll look into it, ma’am, I promise,” Detective Miles expressed half-heartedly.

  They then exited the apartment, leaving Apple feeling like she couldn’t trust them and that she would have to handle things on her own. She rushed i
nto her room and quickly got dressed, sliding into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She rushed by her mother and bolted for the stairway. She left her building with an attitude and strolled through the projects, asking around for her little sister.

  But everyone was giving her the same answer: “Didn’t see her.”

  Apple rushed up to Lenox Avenue, where the bustling streets were filled with people and young teens. With the drive of a machine, she went into every establishment with a picture of Nichols and asked if she had been inside in the past twenty-four hours, but the replies were all negative.

  Apple stood on the avenue, tears trickling down her face. She was fearing the worst, knowing that something had probably happened to her little sister already. She started walking up the block, her mind racing. Faces became a blur to her, and the sound of traffic was muted from her mind as she moved up and down the street with speed.

  By nightfall, it seemed hopeless. After hitting every block and every corner, Apple was no closer to finding out what happened to Nichols. She slowly walked back to her home, praying that, when she walked through her front door, Nichols would be there waiting for her with a smile and a hug; that it was only a nightmare.

  When she made it to the corner of Lenox Avenue and 139th Street, she spotted Guy Tony chilling out with a few friends. Something wild sparked inside of her, and then it dawned on her that Supreme was probably the one responsible for her sister’s disappearance. He definitely had the motive and reputation to do something so vile and heartless.

  She marched over to Guy Tony, her eyes beaming on him intensely. She bent down, picked up a beer bottle, and rushed up to him while he had his back turned to her.

  Guy Tony noticed the look of expectation his friends had in their eyes, distracted by something or someone approaching from behind him. By the time he turned around, Apple had already struck him upside his head with a glass bottle, smashing it into pieces.