Checkmate: The Baddest Chick (17 page)

****

Ten minutes after Kola’s departure, two black SUVs came to a stop on the block near the stash house. A half-dozen men clad in all black stepped out, heavily armed with assault rifles and guns with silencers. They charged for the door like an invasion, moving like a tactical unit. Their mission—in and out, kill everything that moved.

Three men rushed for the front door, while the next three moved toward the back. They had the house surrounded, but security cameras caught their every movement.

The girls inside were slipping. They weren’t monitoring the cameras like they should have been. They still were sulking about the failed hit on Edge, getting high, and listening to loud rap music blaring throughout the house from the high-end stereo system. Candace was undressing in one of the bedrooms. She couldn’t wait to come out of the dress she wore and slip into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

On the porch, the door was rapidly kicked in, and three armed men rushed inside with their weapons raised, and they went searching.

The crashing sound of the front door alerted two of the girls in the kitchen, but only one picked up a gun to check on the sound. When she walked into the living room, her eyes grew wide and she found herself surrounded by goons armed with assault weapons. Before she could fire, she was cut down immediately, shot in the head and chest, the gunfire swallowed by the silencers and the loud music.

Soon, the back door came crashing in, and the girl in the kitchen was shot multiple times. The team then went searching throughout the house. The three men marched upstairs toward the bedrooms while the rest scattered throughout the rooms on the first floor and went down into the basement.

Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot!

It was the muffled sound of death spreading everywhere.

Candace was still in her bedroom, clad in her panties and bra. She was about ready to throw on some jeans when she heard a sudden sound outside her door.

She quickly looked out the window and saw two black trucks parked outside on the block. She instantly knew there was danger. The loud rap that blared throughout the house and the silencers shrouded what was going on, but she wasn’t a fool.

Candace snatched up her gun, cocked it back and aimed it at the bedroom door. She was steady and waiting for the inevitable. “Fuck!” she uttered.

She looked around her bedroom with intensity and felt trapped like a pig in a slaughter. Before her enemies could charge into the room, Candace started firing into the door. The slugs from the Desert Eagle she gripped tore through the door madly and caught the men by surprise. She caught one in the chest and he fell back, but he wasn’t dead, thanks to the bulletproof vest he wore.

The bedroom door was kicked in viciously.

Candace continued firing at them, shouting out, “Fuck y’all niggas! Fuck y’all! Fuck you!”

She was quickly overpowered by the intense barrage of bullets exploding from the high-end weapons. She caught two bullets in her shoulder, the force of which pushed her back into the window.

Candace went crashing through it and landed on the roof of the porch, her gun still in her hand. She was stunned for a moment but swiftly came back to her senses and returned fire at the bedroom window.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot!

A third slug tore into Candace’s side, and she bowled over from being hit. She then lost her footing and fell off the porch’s roof and landed on her side with a hard thud, and the gun spilled from her hand.

Hurt and bleeding, Candace stumbled to get up. She staggered to escape, but two men came running out the front door. Before she could make it to the street, they gunned her down where she stood. She was left sprawled out against the concrete, her blood pooling underneath her.

The murderous goons then fled to their trucks and sped off with their mission accomplished. A total of five were dead.

****

Kola rushed toward her mother’s apartment with an attitude. Her mother was the last person she wanted to see. It’d been a few months since they’d seen each other, and Kola didn’t want to hear the foolishness that her mother wanted to tell her.

Kola strutted toward the building lobby. She made her way into the elevator and pushed for the fifth floor. The poverty-stricken projects with their urine-smelling stairways and trash-littered hallways were reminders of the way she used to live, and she refused to go back to that.

As the elevator ascended, Kola began to remember a time when things weren’t all that bad with Apple. When they were kids, no one was able to separate them. Apple and Kola did almost everything together and were able to talk to each other about everything. But then as they got older and reached their pre-teens, things gradually began to change between them.

They began hanging around different crowds, and different roots were planted into each sister. Kola suddenly became the aggressor, while Apple was more docile and aloof from Kola’s new world. Kola felt that Apple was the core of everything that went wrong between them, and that she was always selfish and envious of her.

Nichols’ death had changed everything. Whatever love was left between the twins quickly dissolved after their youngest sister’s murder.

Kola loved Nichols, and she still carried that pain in her heart after her murder. She couldn’t let it go, and she blamed Apple for Nichols’ death.

Kola clenched her fist thinking about her past, scowling as she remembered so many incidents with her mother and Apple within the past five years. Her life was never easy. Her father had killed himself on their birthday, abandoning his family, and her whoring, self-centered mother had neglected her children from day one.

She stepped off the elevator and walked down the narrow hallway to the last apartment. She paused when she reached her mother’s door. There was a part of her that wanted to turn around and walk the other way. Kola took a deep breath and knocked rowdily to get her mother’s attention.

The apartment door quickly swung open, and Denise at once exclaimed, “Bitch, why the fuck you bangin’ down my door?”

“You wanted to see me. Now I’m here,” Kola returned dryly.

Denise had a cigarette dangling from her lips and was wearing a pair of booty shorts and a cut-off T-shirt. She was still a stunning woman with her curves and raunchy attitude. She looked at her daughter.

“I see you still lookin’ nice,” Denise said.

Kola marched past her mother and entered the apartment. She did a once-over of the place. Denise was living well—leather furniture, a plasma flat-screen, polished floors, DVD player with top-notch sound system in the corner, and there was even an open Sony laptop displayed on the glass coffee table.

“I see you doin’ nice.”

“Not as nice as you doin,” Denise spat back.

Denise took a pull from her cigarette. She then closed her laptop and took a seat on the plush sofa. “You need to find your sister. ’Cuz I’ve been hearing these damn rumors about her.”

Kola could care less about any rumors told about her sister. She stood in the room with a serious expression. “Ma, Apple is dead to me. Why the fuck did I even come to see you in the first place?”

“I’ve been hearing that she’s selling her pussy at some whorehouse in Mexico.” Denise shook her head. “My daughter selling pussy in some foreign country. You believe that shit, Kola?”

The news was even shocking for Kola to hear. “And you heard this from where, Ma?”

“I heard it on the streets. Muthafuckas is talking, and I’m the one looking bad, ’cuz she’s my daughter, and they laughing behind my back about this shit. And I bet you it’s that muthafucka Chico. I know he got somethin’ to do wit’ it, having Apple selling her ass.”

“Apple’s a big fuckin’ girl, Ma! Whatever the fuck she’s doing, I don’t give a fuck! And, besides, scarred face or not, I doubt that bitch is in Mexico turning tricks. Apple never went anywhere, so how the fuck would she end up in Mexico, of all places?”

“I’m telling you, it’s true, Kola. You need to find your sister.”

“I don’t need to do shit for that bitch! You can keep caring for her. I’m done wit’ this fuckin’ family!”
Kola pivoted on her heels and was on her way to make her exit.

Denise jumped up from the sofa. Kola swung open the apartment door and walked out.

“You just gonna turn your back on your damn family, Kola? You that cold of a bitch?” Denise shouted from the doorway, watching Kola strut toward the elevator. “How fuckin’ dare you! I gave birth to y’all. I’m your mother, Kola. You treat me wit’ respect.”

Kola spun to shoot a wicked glare at her mother. “You ain’t shit to me no more! I’m tired of your shit and Apple’s. And if you see that bitch, tell her I said, ‘Fuck her too!’” Kola screamed.

The elevator doors slid open, and Kola stepped inside without giving her mother a second look. She could still hear her mother ranting and shouting as she descended to the lobby.

Kola rushed out of the building and jumped into the Audi, still cursing herself for agreeing to meet with her mother when she knew it would only stir up problems and emotions. She started the car, but she didn’t pull out of the parking spot yet. She looked over and stared at the place where they’d found Nichols’ battered body, and an irritated sigh spewed from her mouth. The memory of how they murdered her little sister still ate away at her. She had lost so much over a short period of time—so many friends dead or gone.

Kola snapped herself out of the painful memory and drove off toward the Major Deegan Expressway. She arrived in Yonkers shortly afterward and discovered a shocking crime scene. The block that her stash house was on was shut down from traffic and sealed with crime scene tape from corner to corner. The area was flooded with paramedics, uniformed officers, detectives, and onlookers.

“What the fuck?”

She had to stop a block away from her place. She rushed out of the car and strutted toward the police activity. She quickly moved through a crowd of people and was stopped from approaching the scene by a uniformed officer.

“You can’t pass, ma’am.”

Kola was about to shout to him that she lived there, but swallowed her words and looked on. “What happened?” she asked the cop as her voice quivered.

He ignored the question and continued to do his job of preventing anyone but law enforcement from passing through the area.

Kola looked beyond the cop and noticed a body sprawled out on the street, covered with a bloody sheet. She didn’t know who it was. Her heart was beating like a dubstep song. She saw them removing bodies from her stash house. Kola’s eyes widened with shock and worry.

Are they all dead?
She turned to an onlooker and asked, “What happened here?”

“They killed everyone in that house, from my understanding,” the lady explained to Kola. “Sad too. It was only women living there. Found drugs and guns too.”

Kola felt weak and sick. Her entire crew, what was left of her drug supply, and her arsenal of weapons had been wiped out in the span of an hour.

Kola retreated from the area and walked back to her car in a fog. She felt so lost. She drove away and rushed back to Harlem.

The storm clouds were now producing rain and thunder, and the ground was shaking underneath her. Kola felt the planet was about to swallow her whole, the walls around her closing in. She didn’t know where to go or who to turn to or trust.

As Kola drove aimlessly, she speculated that there was only one man behind the deaths—Edge. It had to be payback. They’d tried to take his life, but now he beat Kola to the punch and killed every single girl in her crew.

It was devastating for Kola, but she was determined to strike back. Edge had to go, and if Cross was involved with the killings, then he would be on her hit list too.

CHAPTER 15

A
pple looked stunning in a sexy, satin dress with a low, open back and gold chain detail. The six-inch heels she wore made her long, lovely legs stretch to infinity. She was beautiful; shining like the sun on a summer day. She strutted toward her king, who was waiting patiently, but she stopped to look at her reflection in the mirror. Apple smiled—she was perfect. She felt good. She looked over her shoulder, and there he was, waiting for her with his golden smile, and looking sharp in his charcoal gray Tom Ford suit.

He reached out his hand to her, indicating that he wanted her to approach. He yearned for Apple’s touch, her affection.

Apple smiled. She was happy. She was free.

Apple stared at her lovely image once again and didn’t want to change a thing about herself. She pivoted on her stylish heels and approached her king. She was ready for him. She knew he would always come for her and rescue her from her prison and make things right. Apple never doubted him.

She approached her savior with the warmest smile and doting eyes. He extended his arms, and she fell into his grasp and wanted to melt in his hold. When her king wrapped his arms around her, she felt security and love. It blanketed her like the sky above the city.

“I love you,” she proclaimed.

“I love you,” he returned with his masculine tone. Every word he spoke was assuring.