Coca Kola - The Baddest Chick

by Nisa Santiago

  Cross’ eyes looked red and tired, and Edge’s face displayed a stone-cold expression as the court officers led them in front of the judge. Right on cue, Cross’ lawyer, Meyers Mitchell, entered the courtroom wearing a gray Italian pinstripe suit, wing-tip shoes, and a Rolex around his wrist that screamed wealth. He immediately stood out from the court-appointed lawyers representing the poor and misguided. He had smooth tan skin, slick black hair, and a tongue sharper than a razor.

  Meyers moved with confidence, and all eyes were on him as he sat his expensive leather briefcase on the table, buttoned up his suit jacket, and whispered something into Cross’ ear. Cross and Edge didn’t even bother to look back to see who was sitting in the courtroom for them.

  The lanky, bushy-haired prosecutor spoke first. He already knew he had his hands full with Meyers. He opened up a manila envelope and peered up at the judge. “Your Honor,” he said, “the People request that the defendants be held without bail, pending a grand jury investigation.”

  “On what grounds?” Meyers chimed.

  “A loaded nine millimeter was found in the defendants’ truck—”

  Meyers tore back by saying, “Your Honor, my clients’ civil rights were violated when the officers performed an illegal stop and search with no grounds at all. As you can see, this is my clients’ first serious offense, and I ask that bail be posted.”

  There was a little back-and-forth argument from both sides, and Meyers clearly demonstrated he was the better attorney. He was articulate and witty, and the argument took only a few minutes before the judge posted bail at $25,000 for both defendants.

  “Your Honor, my clients would like to post their bail right away,” Meyers Mitchell announced.

  As the prosecutor let out a sigh of defeat, Meyers patted Cross on his back. Kola smiled and wanted to scream out, but she kept her composure. She thought Meyers Mitchell was worth every penny spent on him.

  ***

  A few hours later, Kola was reunited with Cross and Edge. She hugged her man tight and kissed him passionately. She had the Escalade parked out front and was ready to chauffeur her man anywhere. The men jumped into the truck, and Kola hurried away from downtown Manhattan.

  “I need a fuckin’ shower and some pussy,” Cross said.

  Kola smiled, ready to oblige him.

  When Kola merged onto the FDR, heading uptown, Cross asked her, “You took care of that thing with Eduardo?”

  A quick nervousness overcame her. She didn’t want to tell him the truth right away, so she nodded. “Yeah, I got the ki’s at the house.”

  “That’s my girl,” Cross responded with a proud smile.

  Edge, who had been sitting quietly in the backseat, lit up a cigarette and said to Cross, “You wanna tell her about that thing we heard while in Central Booking.”

  “What thing?” Kola asked.

  Cross looked over at Kola. “Your sister is in the hospital with serious burns to her face. Some crackhead threw a cup of acid at her.”

  “Karma’s a bitch, right?”

  Edge and Cross looked surprised that she was so cold to her own flesh and blood.

  Edge said, “Damn! It’s really like that between y’all?”

  “I don’t give a fuck if Apple lives or dies,” Kola responded.

  Edge took a pull from his cigarette. He chuckled. “You’s a cold-hearted bitch fo’ real, Kola. I see why Cross likes you.”

  “Did you have anything to do with it?” Cross asked.

  Kola cut her eyes at him. Her look already said she was insulted that he had to even ask. “How can you ask me that?”

  “I was just asking.”

  Kola didn’t answer him, but she didn’t deny the accusation either.

  After dropping Edge off at his apartment in Harlem, Kola continued to drive without a hint of concern for Apple. She was more worried about telling Cross that she had arranged a new deal with Eduardo than her sister being in critical condition in Harlem Hospital.

  ***

  Kola pulled into the circular driveway of their New Rochelle home and walked behind Cross into the dark house.

  “I need a fuckin’ shower,” Cross said.

  Kola took a deep breath. “Baby, we need to talk about something. It’s really important.”

  “After I get out the shower,” Cross responded, stripping from his clothing as he headed for the bathroom.

  Kola followed behind him. She didn’t know how to tell him the news. She thought about giving him some pussy first. Maybe it would be easier relaying the news about Eddie after he came and was more relaxed.

  As Kola listened to the shower running, she stood outside the bathroom door biting her nails. How do you tell the man you love that his connect doesn’t want to deal with him anymore but would rather deal directly with his woman? Kola thought to herself. After lingering by the bathroom door for a moment, she decided to just come out with it and stop beating around the bush.

  Kola went into the bedroom, removed a pack of Newports from her drawer, and lit up a cigarette. She stood by the window peering out at the cool, fall day and waited for Cross to finish with his shower.

  Ten minutes later Cross walked into the bedroom glistening like a spring creek, a towel wrapped around his waist. She turned with a smile, admiring the way the water trickled down his chiseled abs and the bulge underneath the towel.

  “C’mere, baby.”

  Kola doused her cigarette and walked up to her man.

  He wrapped his arms around her softness. “Mmm,” he moaned. “I need some of this right now.”

  Kola grinned. “I bet you do.”

  Cross moved his hands down her curves and grabbed her firm, juicy booty. He caressed and fondled her body, causing him to get an erection underneath the towel. He pressed his hard dick against Kola, who was thrilled and ready to fuck him, but she had to tell him the news first.

  “You my heart fo’ real, Kola. I’m glad everything went smoothly wit’ Eddie. Where you put my shit?”

  “In the room where you always have it.”

  “I need to move that shit quick.”

  Cross didn’t like to bring his work home, but under the circumstances, he had no other choice. He wanted to unload the ki’s at the stash house and cut it for street distribution as soon as possible. He kissed Kola fervently and was ready to undress her, but she pulled away from his hold.

  Looking Cross in his eyes, she bluntly said, “I made a new deal with Eduardo.”

  Cross couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He glared at Kola and shouted, “You did what?”

  “Baby, it’s a better deal for us. I got the ki’s cheaper.”

  Cross screamed, “Bitch, are you fuckin’ crazy? What the fuck is wrong wit’ you?”

  Kola took a few steps back from him, fearing he would strike her.

  Cross charged at her and slammed her into the bedroom wall, clutching her tight by the arms. “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

  “Baby, I had to,” she screamed back. “I fuckin’ had to!”

  “I sent you there to do one fuckin’ thang, and you fuck me up! What kinda deal?”

  Kola hesitated with her answer. She stared at an angry Cross, who was so close, she could feel the blood boiling in his veins. He gave her no room between them.

  “I did what you told me to do, but Eduardo was upset with you for not showing up yourself.”

  Cross barked, “I was locked up. He don’t fuckin’ understand that?”

  “I tried to explain it to him, but he wasn’t listening. I got the ki’s for twelve-five.”

  “At what risk?” Cross asked, knowing ki’s didn’t come that cheap.

  Kola hated to reply, but she had no other choice. “We gotta move all twelve ki’s within seven days, or he’ll go up on the price to eighteen.”

  Kola heard the sudden explosion as Cross put his fist through the wall behind her.

  “Are you fuckin’ crazy!” he yelled. “What the fuck did you do that for? You just killed us. We’re bar
ely moving the shit we get from him now.”

  “Baby, we can do this. We can! All we gotta do is cut out the competition that’s in our way and get our old customers back.”

  Cross stepped back and looked at her. “You ain’t nothin’ but a young fuckin’ bitch!”

  Kola resented the statement. Her feelings were hurt.

  “There’s more.”

  “What the fuck else did you fuckin’ do?” he shouted.

  Kola swallowed hard. “He only wants to deal with me, not you.”

  Cross went berserk and charged at Kola again, slamming her against the wall with force, knocking the breath out of her. She screamed out. He was strong. Cross then punched a larger hole into the bedroom wall and shattered the plasma flat-screen by throwing it to the floor.

  “Get Eddie on the fuckin’ phone,” he shouted out.

  Kola reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She quickly dialed Eduardo’s number. It rang twice, and before she could say hello, Cross snatched the phone from her hand and exclaimed, “Yeah, Eduardo?”

  “It is me,” Eduardo answered coolly.

  “It’s Cross. We need to fuckin’ talk.”

  “Cross, lower your tongue toward me.”

  “I’m sorry, but what’s this I hear about you striking up a new deal with my girl? I didn’t sanction that. You had no right, man.”

  “Right? I have many rights. She was here for business, and you weren’t, plain and simple.”

  “Man, I got locked up on a humble, some gun charge that ain’t gonna stick. You ain’t gotta worry, Eddie. I’m still the man.”

  “I’m not worrying,” Eduardo replied nonchalantly, “but the situation has changed.”

  “You can’t do this, man. I deal wit’ you, not my girl. You keep her out of this.”

  “She’s smarter than you think. I like her. She’s to come to me, not you. That’s the new arrangement from now on.”

  Cross couldn’t hold his temper as he marched around the bedroom with the phone glued to his ear. He glared over at Kola, ready to toss her through a window.

  “This ain’t fuckin’ right, Eduardo. I’ve been dealing wit’ you for over a year now, and you wanna cut me the fuck out? This is fuckin’ bullshit!” Cross screamed.

  “Watch your words, Cross. Now I suggest you hang up before I get upset.”

  Cross wanted to kill him, but he knew it would be a huge mistake. Cross understood that if he were to lay one hand on Eduardo, there would be a mob of armed Colombians busting down his front door. Cross felt that his hands were tied.

  After ending the call, his eyes cut into Kola with a fierce stare. He tossed her the phone and sarcastically said, “I guess you the boss now.”

  Kola’s heart sank into her stomach. She hated to see her man so upset. She watched him take a seat on the edge of the bed and stare at the wall with a look of despair. He was hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees and cracking his knuckles.

  She took a chance by walking over to him slowly. She wanted to talk to him and smooth things out. She refused to believe that she fucked up and had hope that things would turn out OK.

  She climbed onto the bed with Cross and tried to ease his worries by massaging his shoulders. “Baby, I’m already on it. I started making phone calls, hitting up some of our old customers to negotiate with. We gonna cut out Chico and that bitch and run Harlem like it should be. We’re a team, baby, and together we can move this shit.”

  Cross remained silent. Still fuming inside, Kola’s support didn’t mean shit to him at the moment.

  Kola realized she had to do more showing than telling, which was exactly what she planned on doing.

  Cross dryly responded, “I hope you ain’t kill us wit’ your shit.” He removed himself from Kola’s touch and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Kola tried to hold back her tears, but she couldn’t help crying at seeing Cross so upset. After sitting there for a moment, she snatched up her cell phone and began making more phone calls, determined not to fail.

  Chapter 5

  The two weeks Apple spent in the burn unit were excruciating and degrading. She couldn’t look at herself in any mirrors. She once took pride in her beauty, but that was snatched away from her viciously. The physical pain was subsiding somewhat with the medication she was given, but her spirit was crushed. The only thing on her mind was revenge. She hated everybody and everything. The bitter spirit that resided inside of her was ready to cut loose and wreak havoc on whoever disfigured her. If they thought she was a bitch before, then Harlem was about to get a rude awakening.

  Detectives were in and out of her room, wanting her to file a report or press charges against her attacker or attackers, if she knew who they were. But Apple was defiant toward them and wanted to enforce the code of the streets. She was ready to handle her own problems and didn’t need the help of the police.

  The one good thing that Apple had in her life was Chico. She was surprised he was still by her side trying to comfort her and make the situation easier. Still, Chico had a hard time dealing with her sudden disfigurement. It took a strong stomach to stare at the burned side of Apple’s face.

  The doctors had planned to do many skin graft operations, but her face wasn’t healing right. They had to treat her face with antibiotics for infection that had developed in the wound and operate on her burns countless times. Chico paid for all her medical bills. He was supportive and constantly by her side, which confused his crew. They figured that, with Apple’s beauty gone, Chico would have been long gone too.

  Chico sat by Apple’s bed, holding her hand gently while she was asleep. His phone kept buzzing, but he ignored it for a moment. It had been another long day with medical treatments—the skin graft, the medication, and Apple’s hollering and bitterness. But he understood her pain. He was ready to do anything for her, even kill every single last soul that was responsible.

  Chico fell asleep in the chair next to the sleeping Apple. His phone had been ringing all night, but he was too tired to answer anyone’s call. He planned to deal with business in the morning. Apple was his main concern for the night.

  Chico woke up at four in the morning to see Apple out of bed. He wiped his eyes, looked over at her, and asked, “Why you out of bed?”

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “You OK?”

  Apple turned and looked at him with an expression that said she was far from OK and wouldn’t be for a very long time. The bandages on her face were itching and sticking. The painkillers she was taking were doing her fine but taking a small toll on her. She was drained of tears and felt so bitter that her hands were constantly balled in a fist. She couldn’t think about anything but revenge.

  Apple was saddened, though. It was her second week in the hospital, and there were no visitors, no concerns, no get-well cards, flowers, balloons, or anything sentimental from anyone. It was like everyone had forgotten about her, including her own family. Chico was her only support, but everyone else—all of Harlem—had left her for dead. It made Apple want to cry, but tears trickling down her face would be painful. So she held back her tears and substituted it with anger, and plotting against all of her enemies—even her sister and mother. Her heart was more bruised than her face.

  Apple couldn’t believe how drastically her life had changed within the year. She had transformed into so many people in such a short time that she was becoming bipolar. It felt like she was about to go crazy. She would just sit there for hours, looking into space, not saying a word. Chico tried to help her, but some days she would just ignore him.

  “Baby, you need your rest,” Chico said.

  “I don’t need shit!”

  Chico went up to her and tried to console her, but Apple pulled away from him, not wanting to be touched or comforted. In fact, most of the time she wanted to be alone.

  Holding in his frustration, Chico checked the numbers in his phone and then looked at Apple. “I know what will make you feel a w
hole lot better,” he said.

  Apple didn’t respond. She just continued to sit on the edge of her bed staring at the wall. The television was on mute with the dimmed room lit up from its azure glare.

  “Just give me the word, Apple, and I’ll hunt them all down and kill ’em,” Chico proclaimed through clenched teeth. He was a killer and ready to spark up death all through Harlem.

  “What about Kola?” he asked. “I’ll start wit’ that bitch. You said she had something to do wit’ this shit.”

  Apple looked at him confused.

  “The first night you were here that bitch name kept coming out your mouth. You kept blaming her.”

  Apple didn’t remember anything. She was delirious at the time and hurting really bad. But she didn’t rule her sister out as one of the culprits.

  Chico, known to protect what was his with an iron fist, felt the attack on Apple was a direct attack on him. The streets and his woman were his. He had a brutal reputation on the streets, and there had to be serious retribution for Apple’s disfigurement. People had to pay; they had to die. Or he would look weak, and he refused to be weak.

  “Give me a name, Apple,” he demanded.

  Apple couldn’t think. The only thing that came to her mind was the crackhead that walked up to her and changed her life forever.

  “You need to kill him!” she cried out. “That’s who I want fuckin’ dead!”

  “Lower your voice, baby. We in a public hospital.”

  Chico wanted to know every detail about the crackhead. The only thing Apple remembered was, he was always around her old building, and he went by the name Joe.

  Chico nodded, taking a mental note of the information. He was ready to go to the projects with a few goons and talk to Joe the way he knew best, using hands-on violence.

  He moved closer to Apple, took her hands into his, fixed his eyes on her wounds, and clearly stated, “Baby, whoever did this shit to you, I guarantee will get dealt with in the worst way. Fuck that shit! Niggas think they can throw acid in my girl’s face and there ain’t gonna be any repercussions? I’m about to light up Harlem fo’ real over this shit.”