Fourteen
Kola woke up in the prison infirmary to a slight pain in her side and back. The light shining over her was bright, and the smell of the infirmary was overwhelmingly stale. She was wearing a hospital gown instead of the ugly, orange prison officials. When she tried to move, the pain from the stabbing shot through her body like electricity. Having survived the brutal attack in the shower, she knew whoever was behind the attempted murder on her would be very displeased that she had opened her eyes to see another day.
Kola’s eyes shifted everywhere in the room, trying to become familiar with her surroundings. She didn’t know what day it was, or the time.
It was her first time in a hospital. She had to heal, and heal fast. She was sure her foes would come for her again. But there wasn’t going to be a second time. She had made bail and was ready to make her exit from the harsh and depressing environment. She raised herself slightly from the bed she was in. The feel of the place was far from comfortable. The staff in the room didn’t seem to care about the patients. It wasn’t a five-star health care system at all. It was like an infection. The sick and crippled inmates around Kola were starting to make her feel sick herself. She hated to be around the weak. All her life, she was strong and smart, or so she thought, but one slipup had her reevaluating the people around her.
“Nurse!” Kola cried out.
She tried to remove herself from the bed, but the pain in her side was excruciating—like a jolt of lightning had shot through her—and the slightest movement triggered it.
“Ouch!” she uttered faintly, holding her side, where the bandages wrapped around her petite frame were stained with dry blood.
Kola felt in bad shape. She wanted to cry, but being the woman she was, she sucked it up. She moved against her bed like an elderly woman with arthritis.
When she coughed, pain shot through her. “Nurse!” she cried out again.
A short moment later, a slim white nurse clad in blue scrubs walked over to her. “You need to lay back and get your rest, and stop fidgeting around so much,” she said in a crabby tone. “You’re only going to make things worse for yourself.”
“Fuck that! I need to get out of here.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You were hurt really bad. In fact, you’re lucky to be alive, and what you need to do is relax, stop fighting, and wait until the doctor is able to come and check on you.”
Kola glared at her. Who is this fuckin’ bitch? She was ready to punch the round-faced nurse in the face.
“I don’t have time for any fuckin’ doctors. I made bail and need to get the fuck outta here!”
“Your bail will have to wait. Your health is more important right now. You suffered severe stab wounds to your back and side. You were touch and go for a while, but you were lucky no major arteries were hit.”
Kola shouted, “Fuck lucky! You think me being in this crippled position is fuckin’ lucky, bitch? Go fuck yourself! Get me the fuck outta here! I wanna go home!”
The nurse twisted her face then craned her neck. “You’re not going home.”
Kola tried to depart from the bed. It was a slow, painful attempt for her, but the nurse placed her hand against Kola’s chest and grabbed her arm. It felt like she had the strength of a hundred men when Kola tried to elevate herself and swing her legs over to try and touch the floor.
“I said relax. You’re only going to make it worse for yourself.”
But Kola couldn’t relax. She was angry. She wanted the bull dyke that attacked her in the shower while her guard was down dead. And the people responsible for hiring her, she wanted to hunt them down and destroy everything they loved.
“If you don’t calm down, then I’m gonna have to call security over and have you restrained,” the nurse said through clenched teeth.
Kola looked past the nurse and noticed the beefy C.O. standing by the door, his chest protruding. The bars on the windows were a harsh reminder that she was still locked in a prison and not in a public hospital. There was absolutely no leaving the place on her own free will.
“I fuckin’ need to go,” Kola said despondently. “Don’t you fuckin’ understand, bitch? I’m dead in here.”
The nurse looked unmoved by the statement and continued to fight with Kola to keep her positioned in the bed. Even with the pain from her injuries shooting through her body like a thousand volts of electricity, Kola was still determined to get up and make her exit.
The nurse had had enough. “Guard,” she called out.
The beefy C.O. rushed over and quickly restrained Kola. He placed the iron bracelets around her wrists and handcuffed her to the bed railing.
“I tried to be nice,” the nurse exclaimed.
“Fuck you!”
Kola then sighed heavily. She was a free bitch, but now it felt like the light was slowly fading from her eyes, feeling like she was stuck in a prison within a prison. There wasn’t anything worse than being handcuffed to a bed inside the infirmary and surrounded by the ill.
Miami was becoming a nightmare. And Harlem looked more like a blessing every day she suffered down in Miami.
***
The days went by gradually for Kola, and finally the doctor cleared her for release from the infirmary. She was healing well. Now her next step was getting out and getting back to business.
Kola linked up with Danielle soon after her release from the infirmary. Danielle noticed the displeased look on her face and instantly read her thoughts.
“Don’t take it there, Kola,” Danielle said. “She’s in lockdown in the hole, and there’s no way to get at her.”
“I wanna take it there,” Kola replied through clenched teeth. “That dyke bitch tried to kill me. I want her so fuckin’ dead!
“I know you’re upset, but let it go. You made bail, right?”
“Fuck bail! She stabbed me, and that shit hurt. The bitch almost crippled me.”
Danielle let out a heavy sigh. “Go home, Kola. Get out. Don’t think on this place anymore, and I’ll handle the problem in here.”
“How? You gonna kill her? I can’t let that dyke bitch walk away free from what she fuckin’ did to me, Danielle. I can’t forgive that bitch. I want her dead. You do me that favor, and I’ll pay you twenty-five thousand. And you know, with my rep, I’m good for it.”
“Twenty-five thousand?” Danielle questioned with puzzlement. “You just won’t let it go, will you, Kola?”
“She fuckin’ made me look weak. And I can’t look weak . . . not now, not never.”
“If I were you, I would sneak back home to New York, Kola. You made bail, you’re getting out, and most of us in here will never see that again.”
Kola barked, “You know what, Danielle—If you won’t do me this favor, then fuck you! I’ll find someone that will. I was tryin’ to look out for you, get you paid, ’cause I like you and had some fuckin’ respect for you. But you’re actin’ like a scared bitch. This bitch put a blade through me a few times, and she’s still breathin’. Nah, fuck that! Where I come from, we handle bitches like that, and that dyke would be dead in no time. Fuck you! You can rot in this bitch for all I care.” She stormed away, leaving Danielle standing there dumbfounded.
The anger in Kola was bubbling. She wouldn’t be appeased until she got what she wanted—hood justice—with that justice starting in Miami and then leading back to New York to her sister Apple, if she was truly the one behind the attempt on her life.
Kola’s hate for her sister was like a cancer eating away at her from the inside. She wanted to rip out the disease in her life and crush everything from her past that did her dirty. It was time for some housecleaning, and once she was released, she was ready to go ham on everyone and everything.
She had made a new connection with Sassy and her peoples, and once she was outside the prison gates, it would be back to business as usual. One obstacle—one short stint in the Women’s Detention Center wasn’t going to stop her.
There were a lot of una
nswered questions about her sudden incarceration. Nikki was MIA, and OMG had forgotten that she even existed. She made a lot of money for him over the months, and even committed murder, so where was the loyalty? Where was the help when she really needed it?
Kola was ready to make some serious noise again, and she was determined to be heard. She was eager to send out a loud and direct statement to everyone listening—from Miami to New York. People’s ears were going to bleed with her violent statements. It was time for both cities to see that she wasn’t fucking around.
***
Kola walked out the Women’s Detention Center a free woman, but she wasn’t happy. She’d spent too much time in hell and had a lot of catching up to do. She knew someone had snitched on her, and then someone had tried to kill her while on the inside. The sun was shining, and the sky was a vast blue. The feel of the bright sun in her face was invigorating, and everything on the other side of the prison wall felt a lot fresher.
The first thing she wanted to do was take a decent shower and go shopping, and maybe get some good dick. She looked ahead and saw the gleaming black Escalade sitting on 24-inch chrome wheels parked and idling outside the gates. She was thankful that Sassy had her back and looked out for her. It felt good to be picked up in style. She once again felt like that bad bitch.
She strutted toward the vehicle and got inside. The feel of the cream leather seats against her was soothing. The stereo was playing Kanye West, and Copper was seated in the backseat waiting for her.
“Good ta be finally out, right?” he asked with a smile. “An’ in good health.”
Kola nodded. “Fuck that place!”
Copper replied, “Oh, and that problem ya had on the inside, it ain’t a problem anymore. It was taken care of. Let’s just say, the dyke met karma, and karma won in a vicious way.”
Kola beamed. “Finally . . . somebody wit’ some fuckin’ balls in this city.”
“We look out for our own,” Copper told her.
“Good to hear.”
Kola coolly sat back in the plush SUV, the jail in the rearview mirror. She heaved a sigh of relief. She was ready to see what Copper and Sassy had in store for her. Nothing came for free, and everything was always about business, especially murder. But it was hard to believe that Sassy had clout and connections like that. Kola thought she was just the average hood rat bitch that didn’t take shit from anyone. Who knew she could be the brain to a large-scale operation down in South Beach? It was clear to see that there was more to these two than what met the eye.
“Where you takin’ me?” Kola asked.
“Sassy’s been dyin’ ta see you again,” Copper said.
“She has, huh?”
Copper nodded.
“I need to make one quick stop first,” Kola said, “if that’s cool.”
“Where to?”
“My old home. I just need to check on somethin’.”
Copper told the driver about their new destination, and the Escalade made a sudden U-turn and headed that way.
The truck turned slowly onto Kola’s old block in the urban area of Miami, where she and Nikki shared a home, which was their stash house. Nikki had told her that the feds had raided it and took out everything, but Kola felt like something was off, so she decided to do her own investigation.
It was early afternoon, and the block was quiet. The Escalade came to a stop in front of the vacant home. The place looked like it hadn’t been lived in since Kola was arrested. The grass was growing wild, and there was some debris in the front yard, but the home didn’t look like it was raided by the feds. There was no indication of it—no papers put up, no documentation of seizure placed on the home, and the door was still attached.
Copper looked at Kola. “You gonna check it out?”
“That’s why I came here.”
Kola stepped out of the truck and approached the house. She went up the steps and checked the door, which was unlocked. That’s odd, she thought. She slowly entered her old home and looked around. She noticed everything important was gone—the safe, the money, the guns, and the books. The place didn’t even look ransacked. There was no overturned furniture, the cabinets weren’t rummaged, and there was nothing out of place, except a few key things missing.
“What the fuck!” Kola muttered.
She stepped back out onto the steps and noticed her neighbor watering his lawn in his faded jeans and button-up shirt. She rarely had any words with the man, who appeared to be in his early sixties, and she didn’t even know his first or last name. Kola would always catch him sitting on his porch, soaking in the day. The man minded his business. Whenever she did her thing, he would always look the other way. Kola liked neighbors liked him. She decided to have a talk with the man.
She walked over. “Excuse me,” she called out.
The tall, black man with grey facial hair and receding hairline turned to look at her. He greeted her with a toothless smile. “Yeah.”
Kola smiled. “You remember me, right? I was your neighbor for a few months.”
“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Pretty girl like you . . . an old man like me can never forget you. Seeing you come and go always brightened up my day.”
Kola beamed. “Can I ask you a question?”
The man nodded.
“You remember my cousin, the other girl I was staying with?”
“I remember her too.”
“What happened to her? Have you seen her around lately?”
“No. Been a few weeks since I saw that one come and go. I think she moved like a thief in the night some weeks back.”
“She did, huh?”
He nodded.
Kola was ready to curse. “And what about the FBI raiding this place?”
The man looked at Kola like she had two heads. “What raid?”
“Didn’t the feds raid this home a few months back?”
“If they did, I didn’t see a thing, and you know I’m always on my porch, sitting and watching. There was no police raid done here. I figured you two pretty ladies just up and left, got tired of seeing my ugly mug every day.”
Kola wasn’t amused. In fact, she was furious. She had all the information she needed. Nikki had backstabbed her and run with the goods, so there was no telling what else she had lied about.
She pivoted and marched away without even thanking the old man for his time and information. She went back to the truck and jumped in.
Copper noticed the change in her mood. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked.
“I’m gonna kill my fuckin’ cousin.”
“When you need help wit’ that, let us know.”
Copper passed her a cigarette, and she took it and lit up. She needed a smoke. She was stressed. It had been an awfully troublesome time for her lately.
Copper had his driver pull off, and they merged onto the expressway. The drive through Miami was stimulating, with the sun shining from above. Kola sat back and peered out the window, captured by her own thoughts. Nikki was her number one concern.
Copper was quiet. He was wearing a Miami Heat jersey, cargo shorts, and sporting heavy jewelry. He took a pull from his cigarette and looked through the truck window at his city. Miami had always been home. His paradise.
“Thanks,” Kola uttered.
“For what?” he asked.
“For this . . . for gettin’ me out.”
“Ain’t no thang. Like I said, Sassy vouches for you, then we vouch for you. Understand?”
“But why? She don’t know me like that to vouch for me.”
“Business.”
“And what type of business y’all want from me?”
“When we get there, she’ll explain.”
“Didn’t know Sassy had it like that.” Kola took one last pull from the Newport and flicked it out the truck window.
“There are a lot of things many people don’t know, and we like to keep it like that.”
They arrived at the Pork & Beans Projects in Liberty City as the su
n was fading from the sky. One of the most densely populated areas in South Florida, the area was inundated with drugs, violence, and crime, with its dilapidated shotgun-looking houses and single- and split-level project buildings.
Whatever Sassy and Copper needed her to do, it had to pay well, even though she owed them a favor for bailing her out of jail.
The truck came to a stop in front of a run-down project home with grass that was an ugly brown and full of litter. Copper stepped out, followed by the driver.
Kola was the last one to exit the vehicle. “What is this?” she asked, looking around.
“Opportunity.” Copper smiled.
He led the way, and Kola followed.
Copper’s demeanor manifested to Kola that he was the king in the streets, the ultimate and fierce ruler of this urban playground. The residents and young dealers lingering in the projects made it their business to acknowledge and say hello to Copper as he walked by, and no one gave him any sly looks or bad attitude. It could’ve been fear, love, or respect, or maybe all three. His six-two bodyguard was also testimony to his power and wealth.
Kola entered behind Copper into the project home, which was a stash house. There was loud rap music playing, and young dealers scattered about, some loafing around, smoking and drinking, and then there were the workers seated at a table cutting and packaging dope and coke. And the 50-inch flat-screen TV and the high-end sound system seemed out of place with the raggedy décor and tattered furniture.
Everyone instantly began to show Copper respect, and he acknowledged them with a slight head nod.
When Copper had visited Kola in prison, she was under the impression that he was a soldier or pawn, but it was clear to her now that he was the one running the show.
All eyes were soon focused on Kola.
Face Off--The Baddest Chick 4 Page 11
