“Miss, I need you to be calm.” Ion subtly reached into his lab coat and gripped the butt of his pistol.
“Do somethin’!” Denise screamed frantically. “Please do somethin’!”
“I plan to.” Ion removed the 9 mm from the inside of his lab coat and pointed it at Denise’s head.
“No! Please!”
Ion’s warm and caring eyes all of a sudden altered into cold, black slits at his victim. He lurched closer, his arm outstretched with the pistol.
Denise stood frozen in front of the barrel, like a deer caught in headlights.
Within the blink of an eye, her savior loomed by the doorway amongst the chaos, his .45 aimed at Ion.
Ion felt this sudden threat behind him and pivoted on his heels, fast like lightning, to counterattack, but he was a second too late.
Bak!
The shot struck Ion in the chest, and he stumbled backwards, the gun still gripped in his hand. He was able to let off a shot, but he missed his target by meters.
Terri rushed into the room and fired again, and the bullet slammed into Ion’s skull, dropping him dead by Apple’s bed.
Terri had seen him coming. He knew the killers wouldn’t rest until Apple was dead, and he was determined to prevent that. It was only a matter of time before they sent someone to finish the job. And if he hadn’t been paying attention, Ion would have succeeded.
First, the man in the white lab coat getting out of the gypsy cab caught his attention. And then instead of going through the front entrance like every other doctor and staff member, he went around through the service entrance. Terri watched him closely, and when the alarm had been set and panic ensued, Terri knew the deal.
Denise was grateful to Terri, but they weren’t out of hot water yet. The dead man in the room wasn’t a good look, even though he was a killer.
Terri couldn’t be around for any questioning. He advised Denise on what to do next, and she nodded steadily. He moved briskly before he was seen by anyone, leaving Denise in complete bewilderment while standing near her comatose daughter.
Police sirens were blaring, and cops and the SWAT team were storming into the hospital. It was a scene straight out of the movies, and Denise could barely believe what she had witnessed.
Twenty-four
Kola smashed the crystal glass against the bedroom wall, upset with herself and the events of the past weeks. She’d had the opportunity to kill her sister right then and there but didn’t pull the trigger. So what went wrong? She continued to pace the floor in the spacious Bronx apartment she was renting, trying to collect herself.
Sags peeked his head into the bedroom and asked, “Everything okay in here?”
“Just leave me the fuck alone for a moment,” Kola barked.
Sags quickly closed the door and gave Kola her alone-time.
The men hired by Copper to protect Kola wouldn’t leave her side, no matter what, and she started to feel like a prisoner in her own hood. She had made Copper a promise and owed him a great deal. She had promised him Harlem, vowing that they would distribute kilos coming from Miami, but lately, things hadn’t been going as planned.
Kola had made enemies with a few dangerous men and major players in the underworld. The list went on for her—OMG, Cross, Chico, Apple, and Eduardo.
She missed her team of shooters, her girls that she trusted, Candice and Patrice, who had been wiped out by Eduardo’s hit men. The muscle she once had was washed out like a surfer going against a crippling wave. And over the past months, she had to rely on her street smarts and wits to survive.
She was once the queen of Harlem and the princess of Miami when she was down with OMG’s crew and Nikki had her back, but now all that was gone. The noose around her neck was tightening, and her breathing was becoming restricted.
The TV in the bedroom blared out, “Breaking News in East Orange, New Jersey,” and images of a hospital in complete turmoil started to flash across the screen.
Kola stared at the television and realized it was the same hospital Apple was in.
The anchorwoman announced, “An explosion happened at East Orange General Hospital this evening, leaving three dead in the chaos. It’s understood that a bomb scare was called in by an anonymous caller right before the explosion.”
Kola turned up the volume to hear more details on the story. Is Apple one of the dead? Her eyes were transfixed on the images the news were displaying—firefighters and police everywhere. The entire hospital had been evacuated, and a few bomb-sniffing dogs were brought out.
“Fuck this!” Kola muted the television. It was getting too depressing.
If her sister was dead, then so be it, but for some odd reason, she didn’t think Apple was among the dead.
She walked to the window and peered outside from her two-story walk-up. The summer heat was making things very uncomfortable. She looked down at the Bronx Street below her. Her view was that of a dark alley littered with trash. She hated the Bronx, but the apartment she was keeping low in was cheap and in the cut. With a few bounties on her head, she had to keep a low profile. And supposedly no one knew about this location. She turned her attention away from the window, sighing heavily. The night seemed to drag on like a four-hour church service. The fighting, survival, and having an open fed case was taking its toll.
Kola had taken a few extra security measures to maintain her survival. Lying on her bed were two pistols, a .380 and a Ruger LCP, both fully loaded. While Sags and Mondo were killers, they weren’t the best. They were almost like two stooges with guns. They knew how to shoot, and were wild thugs, but they were far from cream-of-the-crop assassins.
Clad in a pair of jean shorts and T-shirt that accentuated her breasts, she peeked out into the hallway and heard the two men shouting and yelling. They were in the living room playing Xbox. She closed the bedroom door and took a seat on the bed. She raised the volume on the TV and changed the channel to see if there was more news coverage about the hospital bombing, but there was nothing new.
All of a sudden, she heard, Chk-Chk-Boom!
The sound startled her. She leaped from the bed with her .380 in her hand and rushed toward the bedroom door. The shotgun blast was followed by deafening automatic gunfire in the living room.
Kola knew Sags and Mondo were already dead. Then she heard a man yell out, “Yo, find that fuckin’ bitch!”
Her heart began to beat fast. “Shit!” She slammed the bedroom door, locking it.
But it wasn’t going to do any good. She was trapped in the bedroom, and the killers were approaching fast. She didn’t know who’d sent them, but it didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be any negotiation about her life. These men were a few feet behind her door, and they’d come for only one reason—to spread death.
“Think, think!” she said to herself.
She looked at the window. The fire escape was her only way out. She rushed toward the fire escape with only one gun in her hand. She opened the window and started to climb out of it as she heard the killers approaching.
The killers smashed open the bedroom door and right away shot up the room with their automatic weapons. By that time she was already on the first floor and could hear the bloodcurdling gunfire above her.
“Where is that fuckin’ bitch?” a man shouted.
A man looked out the window and yelled, “There!”
“Fuck me!” Kola cursed. She had never been so scared.
The killers propelled their weapons out the window and started firing down at her. Bullets ricocheted off the fire escape, barely missing her.
She jumped from where she was and landed on her side, scraping her elbow, but she’d made it to the ground alive.
“Fuck! Get that bitch! Get that fuckin’ bitch!”
Kola was in the dark, littered alley, the .380 by her side. She snatched the gun up, picked herself up from the dirty ground, and made a run for it.
She ran into the street, ready to shoot at the first thing coming her way. She glanced at he
r building and noticed a dark green Durango with chrome rims parked outside, a man seated behind the wheel.
How did they find me?
Kola hid between two parked cars in the shadows and watched as the three men who’d tried to kill her ran out the lobby. She recognized Chico. “Muthafucka!” she muttered under her breath. She saw him looking up and down the block.
Sirens stared to blare in the distance, breaching the stillness on the Bronx Street. The block was about to be swarming with police.
Chico screamed out, “Fuck! We out.”
The men climbed into the Durango, and the truck went screeching off and faded down the block.
Kola removed herself from between the two cars, not wanting to stick around either. Sags and Mondo were dead, and she was left alone with nowhere to go. The only company she had for protection was the .380 in her hand.
***
Kola smiled as she looked up at the apparition. The woman was even more beautiful than Kola had remembered her. Her eyes lit up like two huge quarters, and the warmth around her was comforting. Kola finally felt peace in her life.
She reached out to this angel approaching and wanted to take her hand, to escape the madness she had been engulfed in. Kola knew once she took her hand, everything was going to be okay, that all her pain, suffering, and misery was going to be wiped away clean.
Kola stood up from the ground and felt whole once more. She took this angel’s hand and smiled, tears of happiness trickling down her face. And the darkness that surrounded her was suddenly transformed into a bright, flowing light.
“I missed you so much, Nichols,” Kola said with a smile.
Nichols smiled at her. Clad in a long, white gown, and her hair flowing like the wind on a nice spring day, the look on her face was welcoming. Her baby sister looked marvelous. She was pure perfection.
Kola wanted to hug Nichols and never let her baby sister go. Everything was angelic about her, just the way it was before her death almost three years ago. Nichols hadn’t changed at all.
Kola was ready to just let go, and go with her sister, but that was impossible. Her sister was dead, so why was she all of a sudden seeing her?
Nichols comforted Kola with a heartening hug and then whispered into her ear, “It’s going to be okay, sister. Just let it go. Be with family. Be with family.”
Nichols then pulled herself away from Kola’s arms and started to shed tears of her own.
“What’s wrong?” Kola asked.
“Be with family. Be with family,” she repeated, her tears continuing to fall.
Out of the blue, Nichols’ pure and transparent form was becoming distorted, becoming darker. Kola knew her sister was leaving. Be with family? What was that about?
Nichols didn’t speak again, and then, just like that, she was gone, leaving Kola behind in full-blown tears.
The feelings from the violent loss of her baby sister resurfaced again, and she remembered that anger she had for Apple. It was all her fault. All this was her fault.
All of a sudden, Kola felt herself sinking into the ground. The muck and dirt was swiftly consuming her, trying to swallow her whole and then digest her like a tasty snack. Feeling paralyzed, she screamed for help, but her cries were muted. She fought to pull herself from the danger, but the more she fought, the faster she started to sink.
***
Kola was jolted awake, the sun beaming in her face. It was early morning, and there was a light breeze. She had slept in the cemetery near her sister’s grave. The realization that it was only a dream made her sigh with relief. But it felt so real to her. She was actually talking to her sister. She’d missed her very much, and recently had been having many dreams about her.
Kola took comfort in the cemetery, trying to evade her enemies. It was a temporary feat. Nichols’ grave was the only safe haven she had for the moment, until she could come up with a safer place to stay. She had run out of options and friends.
She gripped the .380 in her hand and looked up at the sky. Where to go from here? she asked herself. How had things fallen apart so fast in her life? Only a few months ago she’d had power, wealth, and soldiers who would kill for her at the drop of a dime. Now, she was homeless, hungry, and tired, and had the threat of death and jail time looming over her head. Kola only had one option, so she dialed Copper. He picked up immediately.
“Yo.”
“I fucked up,” she began. “Things got a little funky out here. I need you to send me reinforcements and some paper until I get back on my feet.”
“Come again?” Copper seemed distracted.
“Is Sassy around?”
Suddenly, Copper heard something in Kola’s voice. “Nah, she ain’t here but whaddup?”
“We ran in to some beef, and let’s just say Sags and Mondo are casualties of war.” Kola sighed. “I need you to send me some more goons so I can get at those punk muthafuckers!”
“Ya ass lost my men? My men are fuckin’ dead! Up North . . . what da fuck am I ’posed to tell their family?” His voice was menacing and gruff with outrage over Kola’s lack of progress. “I gave you a short leash to handle ya business so you could then handle my fuckin’ business ’cuz my cousin vouched for you. Your dumb ass couldn’t get that on and poppin’? I’m starting to think ya whole rep is manufactured!”
Kola listened to his rant, unfazed. She knew she was a thoroughbred. “I get mines and I hold my own.”
Copper let out a hearty laugh. “Bitch what you get? You get locked the fuck up, that’s what you get. You get shitted on by your own family—yeah, you get that too. You also get my men murked. But right now what ya ain’t getting is that paper and those connects! And ya silly ass sure ain’t holding ya own if ya calling me and digging in my pockets!”
“Calm the fuck down ’cuz right now you actin’ like a li’l bitch!” Kola was tired of being belittled. Her name rang out up and down I-95. Who the fuck ever heard of a Copper or a fuckin’ Sassy? “Everybody knew the risk. What fucking line of business you think we in? We move weight, and people get rocked to sleep!”
Copper’s voice took on a creepy tone. “I don’t know what you do for a livin’, ma, but I own a barber shop”—there was a pregnant pause, and then, “Listen, why don’t you come back here and we could get all this shit mapped out? Ya feel me? I apologize for losing my cool, but it’s all good, right?”
“Leave New York and come back to Miami?”
“Yeah, take a few weeks off. Maybe you and Sassy could go shoppin’ and do that shit you girls do ta get ya mind right.”
Kola knew at that point she had fucked up by talking reckless over the phone, especially when she hadn’t lived up to her end of the deal. For someone who had just caught a federal charge to be yelling about moving weight and committing murders was a red flag. Copper was most likely thinking she turned snitch and was trying to pull him in to her case. She knew that if she went back to Miami that she would return back to Harlem in a casket.
“A’ight . . . I’m on my way,” Kola lied. “And you better not front on the shoppin’ when I get there ’cuz a bitch is fucked up right now.”
“One thing about me, ma, is that I always keep my word.”
Kola hung up knowing two things: She wasn’t ever going back to Miami and she now had to add Copper to her list because she’d failed to deliver what she had promised and had gotten his men killed. Copper had made it clear to her that she was a dead bitch walking.
She rested against Nichols’ tombstone and continued to talk to her sister. She didn’t want to leave the cemetery.
Hours had passed, and Kola stood stationary by her sister’s grave. She could feel Nichols’ sweet voice in her ear, talking to her, trying to advise her. The dream was trying to tell her something.
Kola got on her knees and leaned toward the tombstone, tears falling. She kissed Nichols’ tombstone lovingly, and said in a whisper, “I’m only doin’ this for you, baby sister, ’cause I love you and I miss you.”
“B
e with family” was perpetually replaying in her head.
But how would this reunion turn out? Her mother was a raging bitch, her sister was a fuckin’ lunatic, and she wasn’t a rose garden herself.
Twenty-five
Night and day, Denise remained by Apple’s side, sometimes getting little sleep and having nothing to eat. She hardly left the hospital. With the attempted attack on Apple’s life two weeks earlier, Denise and Terri weren’t taking any more chances. They’d moved her under an alias to a more secure hospital in Long Island, and Terri had his goons watch her room and the hospital day and night.
Denise talked to her daughter daily, repeatedly confessing to her that she was the one responsible for the acid attack. Denise would brush her daughter’s hair and stroke her hand. And even though Apple was unconscious, Denise figured that talking to her was a good start.
“I’m sorry, Apple. I’m sorry for being the type of mother I was to you for so many years. I was jealous of you and your success. Y’all were so pretty. I was jealous of you and your sister. I hated y’all once. My own daughters I hated. And look at what our family has become—fucked up! You being in this coma, and hating your sister, Kola’s out there somewhere, and Nichols being dead . . . it shouldn’t be like this.” Denise shook her head. “It shouldn’t be like this.”
Tears trickled down Denise’s grief-stricken face as she confessed her sins to her daughter. She wanted to become a changed woman. The world she lived in had become so ugly and disastrous. She felt her life was spared for a reason, and now she intended on taking advantage of her second chance at life.
Terri silently watched Denise’s confessions from the doorway. It was a touching moment. But he was only there for protection. If anything happened to Apple, his life would be on the line. He also had received a second chance. Guy Tony had made it clear to protect her at all costs.
Terri was smitten by Apple, but he wouldn’t say it. He had gained a lot of respect for her. She was willing to go where no man would go. And the lengths and measures she used were extreme. She was going head to head with one of New York’s most notorious kingpins and winning. He couldn’t help but respect a woman like her.
Face Off--The Baddest Chick 4 Page 18
