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.
Edge sat slouched against the plush, leather chaise longue. He still gripped the bottle and nodded to the music playing. He looked up, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen immediately captured his attention. He was stunned for a moment.
“Damn!” he mumbled.
She smiled at him.
Edge perked up and gazed at the woman from head to toe. She was looking stunning, wearing a revealing red low-cut, V-neck mini dress with a low back that gathered in the middle and cinched at the sides with ties. Her long, defined legs were stretched out in a pair of black stilettos. Her skin had a slight tan to it, and there was plenty of it showing.
“Yo, ma, what’s good? Damn! You in that dress is making red my favorite color,” Edge joked. He stood up and staggered a bit. “What’s ya name, ma?”
“You OK?” she asked.
“I’m good, love. I’ll even be better if you come and chill wit’ a nigga.”
She smiled.
Edge gestured for her to sit, and she agreed. She sat next to Edge, crossing her legs in his direction.
Edge smiled. “You drink?”
She nodded.
“That’s what’s up. I like that.”
Edge poured her a shot of Goose. She downed that quickly, and he was impressed. He took another swig from the bottle and finished it. And then he focused his attention on the woman with the curvy figure in the tight red dress and legs that stretched to the heavens.
“What’s ya name again, ma?” he asked.
She smiled. “I never gave it the first time.”
“Oh, so you teasin’ a nigga?” Edge placed his hand against her exposed thigh. She didn’t push it off, but let his hand rest there with comfort.
“Elise.”
“Elise, huh? Damn, ya fuckin’ beautiful. You here alone, ma?”
“I’m wit’ my girlfriends.”
“Damn! Where the fuck are they? Shit! I got niggas up in here too. You see how we do it, big and shit.”
“I see that.”
“So, what you about, ma? ’Cuz the night is still young. And I’m tryin’ to get it poppin’!”
Elise shrugged.
“You smoke?”
“Shit! Who don’t?” she returned.
“A’ight, a’ight, that’s what’s up. Shit, where the fuck was you hiding at all night?”
Elise chuckled.
Edge poured her another shot, and the two began to converse. As the club began unwinding, Edge’s talk with Elise grew stronger. And soon his boys joined him again, and it so happened that the two beautiful ladies they were with were Elise’s girlfriends.
“Oh shit! That’s what I’m talking about. We like one big happy family now.” Edge pulled Elise closer to him with his left arm and groped her breast. “Y’all ready to leave. We got the trees and y’all bitches know we got the fuckin’ ends. Shit, the night ain’t over.”
The ladies agreed to leave with Edge and his group. They strutted out of the club as security and NYPD officers were trying to keep order outside with a mob lingering on the city block. Edge and his entourage hurried by the chaotic crowd and jumped into the truck and drove away. But the girls had their own vehicle, an Audi Q7, and decided to follow behind the men to their destination.
The group made it back to Edge’s West Side apartment on Riverside Drive. He had a phenomenal view of the George Washington Bridge and the Hudson River. Dawn was about to break when the groups stepped out of their vehicles after finding parking.
Edge went up to Elise with a smile and placed his arms around the five-star, video vixen-looking woman. His boys followed suit. They hugged the woman of their preferred choice and crossed the street headed toward the towering bricked building with balconies overlooking the Hudson River.
The men were excited being with such exquisite-looking ladies. They laughed and joked around, and thought about sexual fantasies, smoking good weed, and doing what they usually did best—which was switch partners when one was finished fucking with the next.
It had become routine with Edge and his goons. After club hours, they would bring a few women back to the apartment and have their way with them. And if they weren’t down with it, then they were kicked out and had to walk home if they didn’t have cab money.
The streets were calm, the sky gradually coming to light. Edge and Elise were the first to walk into the quiet lobby, his arm around her. They were only a few steps from the elevator, when he heard a sudden explosion.
Bam! Bam!
He spun around and saw his friend on the floor, shot—two holes in his chest. The woman his friend was holding had the smoking gun in her hand.
Edge suddenly realized that they’d been set up. He quickly pushed Elise away from him, shouting, “Y’all fuckin’ bitches!”
and moved for cover behind one of the pillars as shots rang out.
The second goon quickly snatched the .380 from his hip and returned fire. An intense shootout ensued, with one of the girls jumping the gun and firing too quickly.
Elise had her girls covered, removing a .45 from her purse. She let it ring out.
The lobby sounded like the O.K. Corral, as dozens of rounds tore into the walls and structure of the building.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The sudden gunfire had awakened and startled residents. Bullets went whizzing by everywhere. The girls went from vixens to killers in a mere moment.
But Edge was determined not to die by a females hands. He had his gun clutched tightly as he took cover. He took a quick glance and saw his foes by the front door. They were ready to retreat.
His other goon was shot in the side, but he was still functional somewhat, being able to return fire.
“Y’all bitches wanna fuck wit’ me, come for it then!” he screamed. “You know who the fuck I am?” When he glanced back to see where they were at, he saw that they had fled.
Edge slowly removed himself from behind the pillar. He peered down at his dead goon, J. Rock, and shook his head. He then looked for C-Black and saw him slumped against the elevator door, bleeding profusely, grasping his wound with one hand and a 9 mm with the other.
“Yo, C-Black, hold on, man, just fuckin’ hold on,” Edge exclaimed.
“I’ma be good, yo. It’s just a flesh wound,” C-Black said, trying to sound confident. “Damn, those bitches set us up. Fucked us up, huh!” C-Black tried to laugh.
Edge repeatedly pushed for the elevator to release, and when the doors opened, he pulled his friend inside and held him close as the doors shut. He didn’t want to be seen in the lobby with guns and a shot suspect when the police showed up. The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and Edge rushed C-Black into his apartment.
Downstairs in the lobby, residents slowly emerged from their apartments and were shocked to come across a dead body and to see their entrance shot up with bullet holes and shell casings lying everywhere.
“Oh my God! Somebody call nine-one-one!” a female screamed.
Police were there in less than five minutes after receiving the 9-1-1 call. They sealed off the crime scene and began asking questions.
Two detectives soon noticed a small blood trail leading toward the elevator, so they checked every floor and found that it continued on the fourth floor. A group of uniformed cops and the detectives followed the blood trail to an open doorway down the hall. They entered cautiously with their guns drawn and moved throughout the apartment, shouting, “NYPD!” but after their thorough search, they found the place empty, except for some bloody clothing, wet bloody rags, and guns sprawled out on the kitchen table. Whoever was in the apartment had made a hasty escape.
Chapter 14
Kola stormed into the Yonkers stash house and shouted, “What the fuck happened? How did y’all fuck it up?”
Candace’s crew had no words for her. They just stood around feeling dumbfounded.
Kola glared at Candace. She wanted answers right away. They had the chance to kill Edge, but somehow he’d gotten away. They’d fucked up the hit. Kola knew that window of opportunity was now closed. “Explain it to me, Candace,” she said.
“Jennifer jumped the gun and shot one of ’em too fuckin’ early,” Candace said.
Kola cut her eyes at Jennifer. “What the fuck happened, Jennifer?”
Jennifer stared back at Kola. “He was on us, Kola. He recognized one of us. I saw him reach for his gun, so I pulled out and just shot him.”
Kola didn’t reply. She continued to stare at Jennifer and clenched her fist. She was seething. “We fuckin’ missed our shot.”
“We gonna get that muthafucka, Kola,” Candace assured.
“It’s gonna be hard now, Candace. Now he’s gonna be on alert, heavily armed and gonna be lookin’ at everyone suspicious,” Kola explained. “Damn! Fuckin’ bitches!”
Kola was harsh with her crew, but she didn’t care. She was stressed beyond belief by all the shit going on. The storm clouds were forming, and the ground was trembling underneath her feet. It’d been months since she’d heard from Eduardo, and her supply had all but dried up.
She had driven to Jersey City unannounced to see Eduardo one evening, but when she arrived, the place was shut down, and there were a few FBI agents asking questions and unmarked cop cars lingering around. Kola didn’t want to be questioned or suspected and linked to the drug cartel, so she raced back to the city thinking that Eduardo’s spot had been raided.
Kola paced back and forth in front of her female crew and spat venom at them.
Candace figured there was something else wrong. To Candace, Kola was her boss, but she was also a friend.
Kola shouted, “Y’all bitches get the fuck outta my sight! I’m done with y’all!”
The ladies rushed out of the room and collected in other areas of the house. Candace stayed behind.
Kola walked toward the window and peered outside. She let out a heavy sigh and tried to fight back the tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of the girls, but the emotions from feeling betrayed, put down, hoodwinked and not knowing what to do about her connect were starting to get to her bit by bit.
Candace remained quiet.
Kola almost forgot that she was in the room. She didn’t turn around, but only continued to look out the window and subtly dry her tears. She was thinking about Eduardo, but sometimes her mind drifted to Cross.
“What’s really goin’ on, Kola? Just holla at me. I’ve been by ya side for a while now,” Candace said. “I can correct that mistake with Edge. I promise you that.”
Kola sighed again. “We might have a problem.”
“Like what?”
“I think Eduardo just got busted.”
“Feds?”
“I drove by there, and the feds were sniffing all throughout that building. I didn’t even get out of the car. I got scared, thinking they might be lookin’ for me too.”
“So we fucked?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’re running out soon, and with the streets that we have on lock, we can’t dry out now, Kola,” Candace said.
“You think I don’t know that, Candace!”
“I’m just sayin’—”
“Save your opinions to yourself. I’ll handle this. I always do.”
A cell phone was ringing. It was Kola’s. She stared at the number and hesitated to answer it. But she did anyway. “What do you want?” she barked.
“Kola, we need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you. Why the fuck are you calling me?”
“It’s about Apple,” Denise exclaimed.
“And? You got some nerves to call me about that bitch! She’s dead to me, ma!”
“She’s still your sister, Kola. Your twin fuckin’ sister! And you need to come see me.”
“What? Ma, you must be high. I ain’t got no time for you.”
“Kola, we need to talk . . . now! And it’s about something serious!” Denise shouted. She was stern and wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I know you hate me, but I’m trying to be useful to you.”
Kola paused on the phone. She thought about it, and another stressful sigh escaped from her mouth. “A’ight, ma, I’ll be right over.” She hung up. “She’s a stupid fuckin’ bitch!”
“You cool, Kola?”
“No, I’m not cool!”
“You need me to handle something?”
Kola turned to look at Candace. Candace was a lethal warrior that killed like the best of them, but was packaged as a beautiful, curvy and voluptuous woman that could fool any man with her sultry appear
ance. She knew guns, drugs, and the streets. She was still wearing the red, low-cut mini dress from the club, a black wig, and had been Elise to Edge.
“I’m sorry, Kola. We fucked it up,” Candace apologized. “But I’ll fix it.”
Kola didn’t respond right away. She walked toward Candace, locking eyes with her female enforcer, and unexpectedly pulled Candace closer in her grasp, and the two began tongue-kissing.
Kola wiped her lips and said, “I gotta go see this bitch I call my mother. But you handle things here, Candace. I’ll be right back.”
“I always got your back, Kola.”
“I know you do.”
Kola made her exit and jumped into a black Audi. She sped back to Harlem to meet with her mother for a moment.
****
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.
Checkmate Page 12
