Checkmate: The Baddest Chick (15 page)

Apple continued to pee, and when she was done, she stood up and pulled up her panties. But something suddenly caught her peripheral vision. It was peeking from underneath the second stall. She looked down and noticed that it was part of an arm—Someone was sprawled out on the floor.

Apple became startled. It was a woman. She exited the stall she was in and swung open the door to the neighboring stall. “Oh my gosh!” she uttered. “No! No!”

Mary was sprawled out unconscious on the floor in her underwear, blood seeping from her mouth.

Apple scooped Mary’s body into her arms and tried to shake her awake. “Mary, get up! Get up, Mary! Get up! Get up!” Apple screamed, but it was to no avail. Mary remained motionless. “Help! Somebody help me! Help her!”

Moments later, other whores rushed into the bathroom and came across the stunning situation. They were all shocked to see Mary across the bathroom floor in her underwear and in the arms of Apple. A few girls rushed over to aid Apple with trying to revive Mary, but she was already dead.

Apple had to let go of the body, and a few girls were trying to console her from the grief.

A half hour later, Shaun stepped into the bathroom with a few of his goons. He peered at Mary’s body. He was expressionless. He shook his head and said, “She was old anyway and wasn’t profiting shit. Move outta my way. I gotta get her the fuck out of here!”

Apple snapped. She rushed toward Shaun, screaming, “You fuckin’ bastard!” She snatched him by his collar and caught him with a quick, right-hand hook.

Shaun stumbled, caught completely off guard by the attack. But he promptly returned with a hit of his own. He punched Apple so hard, she slid across the bathroom floor and landed against the wall.

“Bitch, don’t you ever put ya fuckin’ hands on me again! I’ll kill you!” Shaun ranted. “When I’m done cleaning this shit up, you gonna pay for that, you stupid bitch!”

Apple’s lip was bleeding, and she was in a momentary daze. The other whores around didn’t intervene. They were all scared of Shaun and his goons. Some went over to help Apple to her feet, and a few other girls didn’t want to leave Mary.

Shaun shouted, “Y’all bitches get the fuck back to work! This ain’t ya business in here!”

The women scrambled out of the bathroom, leaving Mary’s body on the cold, dirty floor and Apple looking shaky in the corner.

Shaun stared at her. “Yo, bitch, you heard what the fuck I said? Get the fuck outta here before I give you more of a hurting!”

Apple locked eyes with Shaun. She didn’t flinch. She wiped the blood from her lips, glanced down at Mary’s lifeless body and held back the tears. But she was moving too slow for Shaun, which made him even more frustrated.

“You think I’m fuckin’ playin’ wit’ you, Apple? That’s it? You think I’m a joke. This ain’t Harlem, bitch. I run shit here, and you better understand that.”

Shaun removed a .45 from his waist as he glared intensely at Apple. “You still mad because I snatched that little bitch from your arms? She was my property to sell off, ’cuz I can do whatever the fuck I wanna do out this bitch.”

Hearing Shaun disrespect her newborn daughter was starting to cause Apple to get emotional. But she fought the tears back and slowly made her exit, but not before hearing Shaun say to his goons, “Wrap that bitch up and dump her somewhere.”

Shaun’s goons wrapped Mary in a dirty sheet and then moved her out of the bathroom and dumped her into the back of a dusty pickup truck like she was a piece of trash. It was like they were moving furniture, not a body. The women were all saddened by Mary’s demise. It showed in their faces and work. To them, Mary became a surrogate mother. She was tough and honest. And she was caring. She was going to be missed greatly.

Apple sat in her still room. She lay curled up on the mattress, constantly drying her tears. Even though they had developed a short friendship, Apple knew she would miss Mary. It was a strange friendship that developed, but it was still a friendship. Time was becoming a blur to her. She felt hopeless.

Shaun had left for a few hours, giving Apple momentary peace.

The echoes of whores turning tricks seeped through her walls, and the activity and traffic outside her door looked like the red light district in Amsterdam.

There was a knock at Apple’s door. She refused to answer it. The knocking continued, but she just sat on the stained mattress, looking lost to the world around her.

The door opened, and a young Mexican whore named Alba eased her way into Apple’s room. She spoke little English. She looked at Apple, showing that she cared about her condition. She wanted to know what was wrong with Apple.

“
¿Apple, estás bien?
” Alba asked.

Apple looked up at Alba. The girl was petite, only standing five-two, with small breasts and long, curly hair. Her face showed the age of a fifteen-year-old, but her eyes showed a well-experienced woman. She was clad in a tattered nightgown, soiled from past customers.

“
¿Necesitas algo?
” Alba asked.

Apple shook her head.

“He...soon...back, no?” Alba said.

“I don’t care,” Apple stated.

Alba moved closer to Apple. She took Apple’s hand into hers and did what Mary would have done. She spoke Spanish to Apple.

Apple only listened, but like with Mary, she felt comforted.

Alba was one of the youngest whores working for Shaun. She’d been on the streets since she was thirteen and had linked up with Shaun a year earlier. It was the closest thing to a home that Alba had.

The two girls spent a quality moment with each other.

Suddenly, the room door flung open, and Shaun and a few of his goons appeared in the doorway.

Alba looked scared. She avoided eye contact with him and stood to her feet.

Shaun glared at Alba. “Get the fuck outta here, Alba!”

The girl didn’t ask any questions. She rushed past Shaun and his men, and bolted to her room a few doors down.

Shaun stepped closer to Apple, his eyes fixed on her. “I told you that you was gonna pay from that incident this morning. You thought I was lying?”

Apple held his gaze. She stood from her seated position and looked around her. Three men flanked Shaun, and they all had a devilish smile focused at her. She knew what was about to take place. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Shaun shut the door and marched toward Apple. He forcefully grabbed her by the wrist and hurled her across the room. Apple landed on her side and was hurt.

“It’s a new day for you, you dumb fuckin’ bitch! You defy me in front of my hoes,” Shaun shouted.

Apple looked up as Shaun towered over her. He removed his belt from around his waist and struck her repeatedly, across her back, arms, and chest. She began to cry out from the assault. She tried to run, but Shaun kicked her back down to the floor and shouted, “You don’t fuckin’ move unless I tell you to!”

He then lunged for Apple, grabbing her with her hair wrapped around his fist, and dragged her back to the bed.

She kicked and screamed, but Shaun was too strong for her to break free. He pushed her on the bed and ripped away her shirt and tore off her panties. The welts from the beating showed on her skin.

“I told you, I’m about fuckin’ business, and you’re big business to me, Apple. Now, we get to have fun.” Shaun turned to look at his goons and nodded.

All three men began to unbuckle their jeans and stepped toward Apple with a lustful look.

Shaun took a few steps back from her. “Y’all niggas do what ya need to do to break this bitch in again.”

“No problemo,” one of the men replied with a smile, his swollen dick in his hand.

Apple knew she was about to get gang raped. It was nothing new to her, but it always hurt. The men shifted closer to her while she curled up into the fetal position. They swarmed on top of her like ants over something sweet. They pinned her to the mattress and forced her legs open, grabbing her breasts roughly and began penetrating her.

Shaun stood by and watched. He smiled. “Yeah, y’all niggas fuck that bitch right,” he said sharply. “’Cuz I want that bitch pregnant by tonight. I got money to make off of her wit’ that pregnant pussy and the next child she births.” He walked toward the door, making his exit, leaving the wolves to feast on Apple.

CHAPTER 13

T
he line to get into the Playa’s Lounge on Twenty-Fifth Street stretched half way down the block. The Playa’s Lounge was a popular midtown club that was frequented by a lot of celebrities, athletes, drug dealers, beautiful women, and wannabes. It was situated in the middle of the block, and high-end cars lined the city block with the city’s elite moving about.

The night was cool. Business was booming. The ladies were dressed in short dresses and skirts and tight jeans, highlighting their thick hips and curves, and some of the finest women in New York City were standing on line outside of the club waiting to get inside. The waiting crowd outside watched as luxury cars and limos pulled up and a few of the city’s top-notch got out of their vehicles and were rushed in the club, bypassing the long line and security.

Around midnight, a black Infiniti QX56 sitting on 22-inch chrome rims and tinted windows pulled up in front of the club. The crowd outside quickly took notice of the magnificent-looking truck that came to a stop. Edge stepped out of the passenger side looking sharp in a pair of stylish denim jeans, beige Timberlands, a fitted black T-shirt that was adorned with a long, platinum chain with a diamond-encrusted Jesus face pendant swinging at the end of it. He was bejeweled in diamond rings and earrings, and a bracelet that screamed “hood wealth.”

The driver and a third passenger seated in the backseat stepped out from the Infiniti truck and followed behind Edge. They strutted toward the front entrance of the club and bypassed the long line.

Edge slipped one of the bouncers a C-note, made it clear to them that he only wanted bottle service and walked inside. He was greeted by blaring rap music and sweaty revelers crammed on the dance floor. Edge moved through the energetic, body-hugging crowd, following behind one of the female employees who led him toward an elevated lounge/VIP area.

The men took seats and peered out at the massive crowd.

Edge nodded his head in approval. “Yeah, I’m lovin’ this shit.”

“Word! So many fuckin’ bitches is lookin’ nice out there tonight,” Gamma said. “Shit, you know a nigga gotta leave wit’ somethin.”

Edge agreed.

The three men sat like kings on thrones, and had the privilege to be seated amongst a few rap celebrities that recognized Edge because of his street credibility, and they showed him respect. The groupies about took notice of the men and activity going on in the VIP area. They smiled and flirted with the ballers, hoping to snatch up the cream of the crop in the place.

Moments later, a few booty shorts and tight-shirt-wearing female employees hurried to where Edge sat, with bottle service on the way—steeply marked-up Grey Goose, Moët, and Cristal—sparkling like a lit firecracker, along with ice buckets and glasses.

Edge handed one of the girls $5,000 in cash, along with a serious tip. She thanked him with a wide smile. The men were pampered with whatever they desired, even if it was pussy, as a string of scantily clad women came to join the men in their section.

Glasses were filled with liquor. And there was laughter and flirting, and groping and drinking.

It was nearing three in the morning, and Edge’s section wasn’t about to slow down anytime soon. More high-profile rappers joined them, and a lot more women flooded their area. They caught almost everyone’s attention. Some of the male revelers looked up at the private party going on and could only wish it was them.

Edge was tipsy. He clutched a half-empty bottle of Goose and threw his arm around a well-known rapper from his hood, a tall and nimble rapper named C-Black.

“This my fuckin’ nigga right here. Y’all muthafuckas hear me? Ain’t no muthafucka in the game fuckin’ wit’ C-Black.” Edge hugged C-Black tight. “Yo, C, spit somethin’ for these muthafuckas sleepin’ on you.”

C-Black smiled.

The ladies were crowded around them smiling, their short, tight skirt or dress riding up their thighs, or seated on a baller’s lap as niggas’ hands slipped between their legs for a quick feel, which the majority of the ladies didn’t mind.

C-Black stood tall in his sagging jeans, fresh white Nike’s, a designer T-shirt and decked off in diamonds and white gold. He was ready to rap for the group. The DJ was blaring a Lil Wayne track, and C-Black nodded.

****

After C-Black’s rhyme, the group loved him and praised his rhyming technique. Edge was the most hyped. He jumped up and down, spilling the bottle of Goose he clutched on everyone near. “See, what I told y’all—My nigga C-Black is fuckin’ nice. This rap game ain’t ready for him.”
Edge took a swig from the Goose.

The club was jumping. It was a quarter to four, and it was still packed. The DJ was mixing Jay-Z and Kanye West.

The VIP section was thinning out, as some of the ladies left with a few rap stars, and both of Edge’s goons went to dance and mingle with a few ladies on the dance floor.