Brooklyn Bombshells--Part 2

by Erica Hilton

While Mike and Cooler desperately tried to get the car started, Claire pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. Charlie didn’t take her eyes off her sister. She hoped that Claire could come through for her. Charlie had burned all her bridges and she had no one to call.

  “Give it a go, now, Charlie,” Mike said to her.

  Charlie turned the key, trying to bring the engine to life, but the car continued to stall. It was coughing and choking. It damn near sounded like it was dying.

  “Fuck!” cursed Mike. “We gon’ try this one more time.”

  While they were doing that, Claire had gotten in touch with her friend. They were chatting on the cell phone and Charlie was listening to the conversation closely. It would be gravy if Claire could find them somewhere to stay until she could make some moves.

  Claire ended the call. Her expression was flat. Charlie didn’t know if it was going to be good news or bad news.

  “So, what she say?”

  “She said it’s cool.”

  A slight smile appeared on Charlie’s face. “That’s what’s up.”

  Mike and Cooler approached the driver’s side window. The look on their faces indicated that they didn’t have any good news to give Charlie.

  “What?” Charlie asked in a gruff voice.

  “Bad news,” Mike started. “It looks like either one of two things—your alternator or your transmission. Either way, this car is dead in the water.”

  “Fuck!” Charlie pounded the steering wheel again.

  “Can we get a few bucks for trying?” Mike asked.

  Charlie flashed a scowl. “Nigga, get the fuck away from my car!”

  Disappointed, both men scurried away from the vehicle.

  Charlie had to call a cab to get them to their destination. The last thing she wanted to do was travel through the busy city with their belongings in several black garbage bags. But they didn’t have a choice.

  The taxi dropped them off in a posh Brooklyn area called Clinton Hill. The sisters stood outside a nicely developed five-story building. They would be staying the night with Melanie, a classmate of Claire’s. Claire and Melanie had several classes together, and they would frequently study and talk on campus, but they didn’t hang out together. They weren’t friends by anyone’s definition, but when Claire called her out of desperation, Melanie agreed to help her out. But it was just for one night, and it wasn’t out of altruism. Melanie simply wanted to be nosy.

  Dragging the large garbage bags, the sisters entered the building and climbed three flights of stairs. Claire knocked on the door and it soon opened with Melanie looming into their view. The look on the girl’s face spoke volumes to the sisters. Seeing the trash bags they carried, she blocked their entrance into her apartment and said, “I thought I said you could spend one night. What’s up with all these trash bags?”

  Charlie didn’t like her attitude. She was ready to go off on her, but Claire spoke first, saying, “It is. But we couldn’t very well leave our things in the hallway or outside. Come sunlight, we’ll be gone. I promise, Melanie. Do me this solid and I’ll owe you one.”

  Reluctantly, Melanie moved to the side and allowed the sisters into her home.

  “This is my sister, Charlie,” Claire introduced her.

  Both women sized each other up and nodded acknowledgement. Claire hoped that her sister played nice.

  They walked into Melanie’s large, one-bedroom apartment and they instantly grew jealous of her. It looked like she had hired an interior decorator. There were blue, green, and gold colors, large area rugs, costly looking vases, large paintings with glided frames, and a baby grand piano. The large white sectional with lots of throw pillows was the room’s anchor. It looked so perfect that they didn’t want to sit down anywhere.

  Claire and Charlie dragged their bags to the corner, and they instantly became an eyesore in the lavish looking room. Melanie exhaled and thought, It’s only for one night. She was kicking herself for inviting Claire to stay, but it was too late to ask them to leave.

  “So, do y’all want a drink?” she offered to try and take the edge off.

  Charlie wanted a glass of Hennessy. She needed something strong after the day she’d had, but when Claire saw Melanie frown, she knew not to ask for the same. Melanie wasn’t a thug bitch. She came from a different world far from theirs. She was classy. She had dreams and carried herself a certain way.

  Melanie went into the kitchen, which was connected to the living and dining room. She mixed up some appletinis and grabbed a plate of sushi rolls she had just made. The food was out of the girls’ league. Charlie wanted to be stubborn and refuse the sushi, but her stomach was growling like a lion. Charlie and Claire dug into the sushi, and surprisingly, it was delicious.

  “You play the piano?” Charlie asked her.

  Melanie nodded. “I do.”

  “Wow, that’s what’s up. I always wanted to learn how to play the piano,” said Charlie.

  Claire was stunned by the confession. When was this? she wanted to ask. But she decided to keep her comment to herself.

  “I can teach you someday,” Melanie said.

  Charlie didn’t look interested in furthering the conversation. If she did want to learn to play the piano, it was a long time ago. She was just making conversation with Melanie, trying to size her up and feel her out.

  “That would be cool,” Charlie replied nonchalantly.

  As they continued to make conversation, the sisters found out that Melanie also decorated her place, she was an A-student, and she was a good cook, making them think of Chanel. She was attractive, but Claire and Charlie’s beauty didn’t go over her head. Melanie resembled a younger version of Halle Berry, but not as pretty. Maybe she could be a distant cousin.

  Once the alcohol began to flow through their systems, the mood started to loosen up. After several more cocktails, all three of them started to act like old pals. They laughed and joked and started to get to know each other more. Melanie was a nosy one. She wanted to know all about the sisters. They were intriguing.

  “Y’all from Brooklyn, huh? Brook-lyn in the house,” she enunciated with an urban tone.

  Claire and Charlie laughed.

  “What part y’all from?” asked Melanie.

  “The really rough part that will eat you alive,” Charlie responded.

  Melanie laughed. “Well, I need to not go there!”

  More drinks were consumed and the living room became ground zero for them. The sun had set and the night was young. Melanie tossed back her glass, smiled, and said, “I got another question for y’all. Are y’all half-white?”

  “No,” Claire answered.

  “Oh really? Because y’all can maybe pass for white,” Melanie pushed.

  “Well, we’re not. We a hundred percent black,” Charlie chimed.

  “Black Lives Matter, right?” Melanie joked.

  “They don’t where we come from,” Charlie answered.

  “So, are you in college too, Charlie?”

  “Nah.”

  “So you got your degree in the streets, right? I’m not hating on that.”

  Charlie shot an awkward glance at her sister. At first, it was fun and laughs between them, but it seemed like Melanie was mocking them.

  “So, I have to ask—why did your parents throw you two out?”

  Charlie frowned at the question. She quickly spoke up, noticing that the bitch was being extra nosy, and she didn’t want Claire spilling any of their family’s tea. It wasn’t any of the bitch’s business, even if she was providing them with a place to stay tonight.

  “It’s personal,” Charlie replied tersely.

  “I was just asking. I wasn’t trying to intrude in your business.”

  “Then fuckin’ don’t,” snapped Charlie.

  Melanie felt slighted and insulted, but she kept quiet ab
out it.

  “Well, I guess enough about talking about y’all lives. Do y’all want to hear about mine?” she said with gleefulness in her tone.

  Charlie really didn’t, but it was her place and Melanie wanted to boast about her ambitious life. She was lording over the sisters and loving it. Meanwhile, Charlie was listening intently and she was also scheming on the naïve bitch. She wondered how Melanie could afford to live like this. The rent alone was steep, and Charlie estimated the furnishings cost at leave five to six thousand dollars per area. The bedroom set, living room and dining scenery, it was all high-end. The only downside to the apartment was that you had to go through Melanie’s bedroom to get to the one bathroom.

  “I just love nice things, as you can see,” Melanie said proudly.

  “Yeah. I can see that,” replied Charlie with a fake smile. “Can I use your bathroom?”

  “Of course. It’s through my bedroom.”

  Charlie excused herself from the room, leaving her sister and Melanie to chitchat.

  Inside the bedroom, Charlie quickly rummaged through the closet. All she saw were labels—rows and rows of designer labels. She smirked. There is no way this bitch could afford all this shit on her own at twenty years old, she thought. No fuckin’ way!

  The high-end items were starting to make her pussy wet. She had seen enough.

  Charlie came back into the living room and sat down with something to look forward to. It was about to become a new day for her and Claire. She smiled at Melanie, thinking it was going to be a huge payday for them if they handled it right.

  Melanie was trying to be cordial to her guests, but she felt that she needed to repeat that come sunlight they were gone. Charlie listened as she laid down some more rules. She didn’t allow anyone to sleep on her couch and remarked that it cost her five thousand dollars at Ethan Allen. Charlie was tired of the bitch bringing up how much her shit cost.

  The night was growing late and it was time for everyone to retire to bed. As Melanie was in her linen closet pulling out sheets and blankets for her guests to sleep on the hardwood floors, Charlie decided to walk with her full appletini, and she “accidently” tripped on something and spilled the green liquid on the expensive white couch.

  It was a typical hater move. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Charlie yelped with a fraudulent apology.

  Melanie spun around and burst onto the scene, only to see a nightmare before her eyes. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. The sight of her pricey couch now stained with green liquid made her burst into tears—almost hysterical. All three girls jumped into action and started blotting the fabric to stop the mess. Fortunately, some of it came out, but the cushion was ruined.

  “Melanie, I’m so sorry . . . believe me, it was an accident,” Charlie apologized.

  Melanie didn’t know what to believe. It could have been an accident, but she doubted it.

  Inwardly, Charlie was laughing her ass off. She hated the bitch.

  Although Charlie repeatedly proclaimed that it was an accident, Claire and Melanie knew it was done on purpose. Melanie also knew that you can’t be nice to scum bitches like her. She wanted them gone early tomorrow morning.

  ***

  Charlie couldn’t sleep. She didn’t want to sleep. She stayed awake thinking and plotting. Melanie wanted them gone in the morning and that was only a few short hours away. Charlie saw opportunity there, and she didn’t want it to go to waste.

  At a little after two in the morning Charlie heard Melanie creeping from her bedroom to go to the door. She assumed that the sisters were sleeping and the light from the outside hallway came flooding in and then quickly went dark.

  From her position on the floor, Charlie pulled the covers over her head and pretended to be asleep. She peeked out and observed a man carrying a small brown duffel bag. Melanie and the stranger hurriedly disappeared into the bedroom, and the door closed. Charlie could hear them whispering about something.

  Claire was still asleep and she didn’t stir. Charlie’s little sister wasn’t astute like her. She got too comfortable when they shouldn’t be comfortable at all because they were homeless and broke.

  Charlie didn’t know the stranger who went into the bedroom with Melanie, but she knew he was a hustler. She could easily sniff one out. He and Melanie spent about twenty minutes in the bedroom doing whatever. Charlie assumed they were fucking, but the door opened back up and Melanie walked the guy out without the duffel bag.

  Charlie smiled.

  ***

  Charlie was up bright and early a few hours later. She got into the shower first. As the water cascaded down on her, she couldn’t stop thinking about that duffel bag she saw come into the apartment. She knew something precious was in it, and she planned on not leaving Melanie’s place without it.

  While Charlie was taking a shower, Melanie heard the water running. She glanced at the time and saw it was a quarter to seven. Thank God, she thought. She wanted the sisters gone. She had important things to take care of today. She remained lying in bed staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes on the clock until she drifted back off to sleep.

  About an hour later, Melanie woke up to a strong smell coming from the bathroom. It was the smell of disinfectant. She wondered why she was smelling it. Are the ghetto girls cleaning up?

  The cleaning didn’t stop in the bathroom. Melanie could hear the dishes being washed. Curious, she opened the door and peeked into the living room and saw that Charlie was up, dressed, and cleaning all surfaces. Her pile of sheets and blankets were picked up and the space was spotless, except for Claire. She was still sleeping.

  Melanie was impressed. Maybe she had Charlie figured out all wrong. She smiled warmly at her and uttered the words, “Good morning.”

  Charlie smiled broadly and said to Melanie, “We’ll be gone soon. I just wanted to say thank you by cleaning up for you.”

  Melanie nodded her approval.

  Charlie then asked, “I hate to ask, but do you mind if I use your cell phone? My battery went dead, and I need to make an important phone call before we leave here.”

  Melanie didn’t see any harm in it. She handed Charlie her cell phone but wondered why Charlie didn’t just use her sister’s cell phone or ask to use a charger. She didn’t want to appear like she was some petty bitch, though, so she kept her questions to herself.

  “What’s your security code?” Charlie asked.

  Melanie had forgotten her phone was locked. She felt strange giving out the code. She had personal things on her phone, like most people.

  Charlie noticed that Melanie seemed apprehensive about it. Thinking hastily, she reiterated, “I just want to make a few important phone calls and confirm where me and my sister are going to sleep tonight. I know you don’t want us here.”

  It was understandable. Melanie gave her the pass code and said, “Take your time. I want y’all to be okay tonight.”

  Charlie smiled. “We will.”

  Melanie turned and walked back into her bedroom. Her instincts told her to lock her door, and she listened. Melanie jumped into the shower and then got dressed. She was ready for this bogus merrymaking with the sisters to be over with. Once they were gone, she could breathe again and relax. She played nice because she and Claire were cool at school, and the young girl was intriguing. Melanie had wanted to do her good deed for the week. It felt nice to feed the homeless. It was her presumptuous way of thinking.

  Dressed and ready to say goodbye to Claire and Charlie, she unlocked her bedroom door and stepped out. Rapidly, Melanie was met with a gruesome fate. From out of nowhere, Charlie viciously struck her in the head with a hammer. Melanie released a loud shriek that Charlie tried to silence by striking her in the head again. Melanie collapsed against the floor, copious amounts of her blood pooling around her head.

  Melanie’s screams woke Claire up. When she picked herself u
p from the floor and finally realized what was happening, she flipped.

  “Charlie, what the fuck did you do?”

  “Just chill out and shut the fuck up! I got this!” Charlie replied.

  Claire watched in horror as her sister sprung into action. Melanie was badly beaten, bleeding profusely, but she was still alive—barely. Wearing yellow dish gloves, Charlie stuffed a rag into Melanie’s mouth and dragged her into the bedroom. Charlie was moving quickly, like she was a professional at this. She tied Melanie’s hands behind her back with a silk scarf. Melanie, still conscious, was frantically trying to free herself, but then Charlie marched over and struck her again with the hammer, and again, and again until she was still.

  Charlie said to her sister, who was now frozen with shock, “Claire, listen up, put these gloves on and bag up the linens we slept in and start wiping down everything we touched in here.”

  Claire stood there looking like a deer caught in blinding headlights.

  “Claire, get dressed and do it now!” Charlie barked, snapping her sister out of her shocked state.

  Tears started to stream down Claire’s face. “Charlie, this is going too far. What are you doing? I don’t wanna go to jail,” she fretted.

  “You won’t if you just listen to me and do what I say. Don’t come back into this room and give me your cell phone. Now, Claire!”

  Claire sprung into action and did what her sister told her to do. Charlie pushed her out the bedroom and closed the door. Immediately, Charlie focused on the cell phones. She deleted all of her sister’s history from the phone and removed the SIM card. Next she meticulously went through Melanie’s phone, reading her text messages. There wasn’t anything to delete except Claire’s call to her the previous day. Melanie did mention to some nigga named Scott, who appeared to be her brother, that she was allowing a friend to sleep over. She never mentioned Claire’s name—which was great. Scott had texted her back, stating that he would be over her place that same night to make a quick drop. He was actually her brother and not some nigga she was messing with.

  Charlie went into Melanie’s closet and found the brown duffel bag stashed in the back. She crouched down and opened it, and, as she predicted, it was filled with cash. From her estimate, she figured there was nearly $80,000 inside. Charlie beamed. Bingo!