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 t
he 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
Apple 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.
She started to dance with him, and it felt like they were on clouds. Apple didn’t want to look down from his eyes. She wanted to stay connected with him. She wanted that bond to become concrete. She fixed her eyes on her king and strengthened her grip around him.
“I got you, baby,” he said.
She nodded.
They continued to dance. Then slowly her dress started to peel away from her skin. And then she found herself naked in his hold. Apple didn’t mind; she wanted him to stare at her curvy waistline, succulent tits, and round, juicy ass. She knew her body would captivate his attention.
Her king squeezed her harder, indicating his approval, and they kissed passionately. His hands explored every curve of her body.
She moaned, savoring his touch, enjoying the warmth of his breath against hers and the way his strapping chest pressed against her breasts. Everything about it was pleasurable.
“Your face is so beautiful and angelic,” her king spoke.
Apple blushed. She soon found herself floating on her back, and he was naked. His manhood was hard and pulsating, and it was waiting to be pleased. She wanted to feel him inside of her, her pleasure box throbbing out of control.
He pushed himself inside Apple. She drifted into the rapturous thrusting, as his big dick filled her completely.
She gripped his shoulders, straddled her legs around her king, and panted like a winded runner. It was so good; she almost lost consciousness.
Apple closed her eyes and enjoyed the bliss of their naked flesh wrapped tightly together. Her king was a gorgeous specimen of a man, and he was devouring her sex as if he needed it to live.
Apple came, the pleasurable moment escaping her lips as her body rattled underneath his sweaty flesh.
Abruptly, her king stopped with his heated passion, and a look of shock registered on his face. He pulled himself away from Apple like she had the plague.
“What’s wrong?” Apple questioned.
Her king looked speechless. “What are you?”
“I’m your queen?” she replied meekly.
“You’re a fuckin’ demon! That’s what you are!”
Apple didn’t understand what was happening. She went to touch her face and suddenly felt it melting away. She jumped up and ran toward the mirror. The reflection she once saw, the one that made her smile and feel perfect, was gone. She saw an image that horrified her. Her skin was melting and becoming loose and slacking, and it burned.
Apple screamed. She then looked back at her king and yelled, “Chico, don’t leave me! Help me! Please! Help me!”
Chico began to fade away into the darkness, leaving Apple to bear the pain alone. She screamed out louder and then heard a big bang. The banging grew louder and louder.
****
Apple stirred from her sleep, oblivious to the chaotic noise outside her door. It sounded like a war in the hallway of the whorehouse. There was screaming and gunfire. The whores were yelling, and there was running and fighting.
She remained slumped against the mattress. The heroin that flowed through her bloodstream had her body listless, and the haze still lingered in her mind. She was in her own world.
Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!
The sound of gunfire grew closer to Apple’s room. The walls started to shake. There was loud rustling everywhere, but Apple still laid there, lifeless.
“Yo, check that fuckin’ room!” a man yelled. “Check that fuckin’ room!”
Apple’s door was abruptly kicked open, and two masked men came rushing inside wielding heavy assault rifles. They looked around the room in a hurry and saw Apple lying on the mattress.
One of the men yelled, “In here!”
Another masked man walked into the room, and his beady eyes zeroed in on Apple from behind the mask.
“Is this her?” one of the masked men asked.
He nodded.
&
nbsp; Apple felt a pair of strong hands reach down to lift her up from the mattress. He cradled her in his arms and said, “Don’t worry, I got you now. It’s gonna be you and me again.”
Apple heard the words, but she didn’t know what was going on. It felt like she was floating on air. She couldn’t see anyone’s face clearly, even if they didn’t wear masks. She was completely fucked up. Her mind was drifting and incoherent because of the drugs, and her body was weak, exhausted from everything that had happened to her.
Apple was carried out of the room. The hallway was scattered with bodies, mostly dead thugs on Shaun’s end. The whores either ran for safety or cowered in their rooms or in the corner. No one wanted to fight, and no one wanted to die. The three masked men came heavily armed and were well prepared for a battle. But none of the bodies that lay in the pool of blood in the narrowed hallway were Shaun. He had been absent from the massacre of his goons.
Apple soon felt fresh air against her skin. She knew she was outdoors. It was dark out. She felt a gentle breeze. The man carrying her had strength and didn’t grow tired with her in his arms. She felt herself being laid gently into a luxurious backseat. It had been too long since she’d been in a vehicle. She felt the rich interior against her skin and smelled the vivid aroma of expensive leather, and it suddenly became all too familiar to her.
“Chico,” she uttered out. “Chico, I knew you would come for me. I knew you would, Chico. Chico. Chico . . .”
“I’m here now, Apple. I’m here now, and ya good,” the man said.
The doors were shut, and the Escalade sped away from the scene.
Apple was spread out in the backseat still in her drug haze. She felt the truck speeding and repeated one last time, “I knew you would come for me, Chico. I knew you would.” She then closed her eyes and dozed off.
Checkmate Page 13