Coca Kola - The Baddest Chick

by Nisa Santiago

  Apple turned her head away from his stare and looked at the wall. She just wanted her normal life back. There was a deep-rooted pain and jealousy stirring in her stomach, making her green-eyed about the fact that her twin sister Kola now had all the beauty and wealth, while she was looking like a monster.

  She turned to look back at Chico and saw how serious he was with his statement. He was ready to kill for her. She knew he was capable of carrying out the hits. He reigned with violence, some of which she’d witnessed personally.

  Apple managed a smile. “Kill ’em all for me, baby. Kill ’em all, starting wit’ that fuckin’ crackhead.”

  “I will. I will.”

  Chico left the hospital room on a mission. The second he exited the lobby, he began making a few phone calls. He hated to see Apple in pain and felt the only way to make her feel a little better was to find out who was behind the assault and take care of it via bloodshed and torture.

  He called Dante, his cousin.

  “Yo, speak to me, Chico. What’s good?”

  “I need you in New York,” Chico said.

  “Problems?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m there, cuz.”

  Chico nodded as he ended the call.

  Dante was the main reason why Chico was running some parts of Harlem today. He had so many bodies to his name, he was nicknamed Body Count. Dante was six three and weighed over two hundred pounds and used various methods to kill his victims—guns, knives, and even strangulation.

  Eight years ago, Chico was warring with a rival dealer named Manson, and it was getting ugly for him in the streets, until Dante arrived from Miami. Within two weeks of his arrival, Dante took out four of Manson’s top men in brutal fashion, and Manson began looking weak in the streets and in the eyes of his men. A few months later, they found Manson’s body in the trunk of a burning car. His own men had killed him.

  Dante had locked down Harlem with fear. He was known to sometimes use a machete to hack off the limbs of his enemies and leave them to bleed to death. Originally from Cuba, the ex-militant and illegal immigrant was always ready to kill and cause havoc for his cousin. Chico meant the world to him, and it only took one phone call to bring him back to New York.

  Chico walked to his car knowing that his foes would regret the day they attacked his girl. He loved Apple and would continue to do so, even with her scars.

  Chapter 6

  Kola secretly watched from the crevices of the dimmed doorway as Sunset rode the police sergeant’s dick like she was a jockey.

  Sunset straddled the officer like a tight noose around the neck as his dick plunged upward into her dripping wet pussy. “Ooooh, fuck me, daddy! Fuck me!” she cried out, digging her manicured nails into his chest as the sergeant slapped her ass repeatedly.

  “Damn!” he moaned. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

  A regular at Kola’s sex parties, Sergeant Charles was a large white man with a distinctive mane of thinning white hair and a pork-size penis.

  After Bunny Rabbit’s death, Sunset had become Kola’s number one girl. Kola took the girl under her wing and was training her on how to get money and satisfy a trick. They were becoming close like sisters, and Kola felt she could trust the girl with anything.

  Sunset stood no more than five feet without her heels, and with her butter-like complexion, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips, she was able to stir any man’s heart. She carried herself like a lady at all times and was a class act. And she was the freak that every man dreamed of. The men chased her down at the parties and weren’t shy about offering her all-expenses-paid trips to the Caribbean and spending huge amounts of cash on her.

  Kola backed away from the doorway, hearing the moans and cries coming from the sergeant. She smiled as she walked down the corridor to tend to her party, which was in full swing.

  Kola’s parties were still private affairs with invites only, and they were creating a huge buzz throughout the underground. Well-established men—brokers, investment bankers, entrepreneurs, a few big-time street hustlers, cops, and even a senator’s aide—were willing to pay up to two grand to frequent one of her parties, knowing that the women attending would be top-notch and disease-free. One time, a senator himself showed up at one of Kola’s parties.

  Kola was strict with her business, taking charge of everything, from the type of music that she wanted playing, to the refreshments served, to the attire the girls needed to wear. She even had her girls checked on a regular for any STDs, and she made sure security was on point.

  R. Kelly’s “Bump N’ Grind” was blaring throughout the party, while the girls walked around the hall with their body parts exposed, eyes and hands flirting. Kola strutted into the hall in a V set, the bra and V-string encrusted with colorful Swarovski crystals, and bright red stilettos. The raunchy attire showed off her wonderful shape, but she was the only woman off-limits to the men. She belonged to Cross, and Cross was a jealous lover most times.

  Kola chatted with a few of the men who were seated by the bar sipping on a bottle of Moët. Wearing boxers and T-shirts, and their dicks hard like rocks, they came from Wall Street to unwind and fool around with the best ladies in the room.

  She smiled and asked, “How are y’all gentlemen doing?”

  One of the men raised his glass to Kola and replied, “I think I’m never going home to my wife.”

  The men around him broke up laughing.

  Kola smiled at his comment and moved on. She was only eighteen and already the boss of things. She looked around to see if everything was going smoothly, and she was proud of what she saw.

  Still, Kola had other business to take care of. She had a few ki’s to move in a limited period, and she wasted no time getting on the phone calling up people. She even used her sex parties as an avenue to network.

  She had an interest in three particular fellows at her party. One of the men was Perry. He was a fierce Dominican from the East Side in Spanish Harlem, and one of the hustlers who got his product from Chico. Kola saw this as an opportunity to get into his ear about business.

  She watched Perry closely, observing him flirt with the girls. He was a pretty boy with long, thick braids, hazel eyes, and smooth brown skin. He had some height on him, and every inch of him was physically built. The ladies in the hall were drawn to Perry like he was NBA ball player. They loved his swag and knew he was somebody rich and important. He was swathed in bling, smoking his Black and Mild and laughing with his boys by a table.

  Kola pulled Sassy to the side. She pointed to Perry. “You see him over there?” She watched as he grabbed a few of the ladies’ booties and tits.

  Sassy, one of Kola’s Asian assassins in the bedroom, nodded.

  “I want you to take him a bottle of Cristal and tell him it’s on the house from me.”

  Sassy nodded again.

  Kola wanted Perry’s attention. She observed how he and his crew were downing bottles like water and figured it would be polite. She watched Sassy walk to the bar, get a bottle of Cristal, and sashay over to Perry and his boys with a flirtatious smile and scantily clad in a black off-the-shoulder stretch lace micro chemise with nothing underneath.

  ***

  The men smiled, and Sassy worked her magic, especially on Perry, taking a seat on his lap and whispering something in his ear.

  He smiled and said, “I like your style, ma.”

  “And I like yours,” Sassy returned.

  What Sassy lacked in ass, she made up for in plump breasts and her exotic features. She had full lips, round hips, and sultry Asian eyes that could arouse a man’s heart without even trying.

  Perry rested his hands between her thighs and played with her pussy. “Damn! And shaved too. I like that, ma.”

  “I bet you do.” Sassy felt his fingers digging into her slippery insides, rubbing against her clit. A pleasing moan escaped her lips.

  “You like that?” Perry teased.

  Sassy squirmed in his lap and exhaled a breath of satisfac
tion.

  Perry’s men laughed. They wanted a piece of the Asian beauty too and were ready to run a train on her in one of the back rooms.

  ***

  Kola watched from a short distance. She respected how Sassy worked the table. She let Sassy have her moment and then walked over.

  “I see you got my girl trippin’ over here,” Kola said with a smile.

  “I like her, Kola.”

  “Yeah, she’s one of my best.”

  “I wanna fuck,” Perry blurted out, the yearning showing in his eyes.

  Sassy felt the bulge in his jeans and was highly impressed. She wanted to wrap her lips around his hard dick and suck it like a porn star.

  Kola steadied her eyes on Perry. “It’s good to see you enjoying yourself, Perry, but I need to talk to you about something . . . in private, if you don’t mind.”

  Perry nodded. He respected Kola and knew she would never waste his time. Sassy stood up from Perry’s lap, and as he stood out of his chair, his hard-on was evident.

  Sassy smiled and said, “I’ll take care of that when you come back, sweetie.”

  “Oh, I know you will,” Perry replied, returning the smile.

  Perry followed Kola into a private room. After Kola closed the door, he looked at her with a lustful gaze. He massaged his crotch leisurely, licking his lips. “You look nice, ma.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m sayin’. . . what’s good wit’ that? I see your boy ain’t around tonight.”

  “He takes care of business.”

  “I bet he do, like I want to right now.” Perry stepped closer to Kola.

  “Put your dick on chill and relax, Perry. I’m here on business. I ain’t tryin’ to fuck you.”

  “I’m sayin’, ma . . . it’s only you and me in the room. Ain’t nobody gotta find out. You is so fuckin’ sexy, Kola. I’m sayin’ . . . what’s really good wit’ that?”

  She smiled. “Business.”

  “What about pleasure?”

  “Business is my pleasure.”

  “I respect that.” Perry knew not to push it, knowing that Cross and his crew were nothing to play with. Kola wasn’t the average hood chick he could just have his way with. “What you got me in here for?” he asked.

  “I have a proposition for you. A really nice one.”

  “Like what?”

  “We both about making money, right?”

  “It’s why I get up every morning, baby.”

  Kola smiled. “How are things goin’ wit’ Chico?”

  “His shit is weak, but it moves.”

  “Listen, Perry, I’ma be up front wit’ you. I want you to come over and fuck wit’ our shit at a better price.”

  Perry chuckled. “At eighteen-five? Nah. Chico’s shit might be stepped on a lot, but it still moves, and no disrespect, but y’all shit too rich for my blood.”

  “I’m ready to cut you a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Chico lets his go at fifteen.”

  “But Chico ain’t fuckin’ with the quality we fuckin’ wit—straight connect from Colombia, and uncut. Maybe stepped on one or two times when you get it ready for street distribution.”

  Perry still looked reluctant. Kola moved closer to him, staring him in the eyes. She was sharp with business and wanted to pull Perry into the deal.

  “Look, either way our shit is sweet like pussy. Gonna sell like it too, and it’s gonna get out there on that grind shit, making niggas plenty of money. We got far better quality than that weak, stepped-on shit Chico is pumping out. I’m hollering at you first because I got love for you, Perry. But sooner or later Chico’s gonna dry out. He ain’t about quality, but we are.”

  Perry couldn’t take his eyes away from Kola. She had him thinking. “I’ve been fuckin’ wit’ Chico for a minute.”

  “Yeah, I respect loyalty, but at the end of the day you a businessman, I hope, and business shouldn’t be personal. Are you tryin’ to get rich, nigga, or make fuckin’ friends?”

  “I feel you, ma.”

  “Nah. If you feel me, then get the fuck on board.”

  Perry rubbed his chin, thinking about the proposal. He knew it was a sweet deal. Besides, he was becoming weary of Chico. In the past week, Chico had been ignoring his phone calls and hadn’t been getting directly back to him when needed. Word on the streets was that Chico was too wrapped up with Apple being in the hospital, and business was the last thing on his mind.

  “A’ight, I’ll fuck wit’ you, Kola.”

  Kola couldn’t contain her huge smile. “My nigga!”

  “Sixteen a bird, right?”

  “My word is my word, Perry.”

  “And Cross is good with this?”

  “Believe me, we’re partners. He knows.”

  “A’ight, put me down for four. I’ll have the money for you by tomorrow evening.”

  They shook hands on the deal, and Perry exited the room and went looking for Sassy.

  Kola was elated. It had been two days since her meeting with Eduardo, and already she had gotten rid of four ki’s. She soon would have the streets locked with product.

  She walked out behind Perry and looked around the room for other potential buyers. She spotted Fumes and Lennox in the room. Fumes was a heavy hitter from Jamaica, Queens who came up as a teenager under Fat Cat’s crew and was now a major player himself. In his early forties, he had done time for drugs and assault.

  Fumes was a witty businessman who knew how to use the elements of the streets and book smarts to get ahead. He was established in so many business ventures, the streets called him “the black Donald Trump.”

  Kola was surprised to see that he actually came to one of her parties. Fumes spent most of his time in the South and abroad, since he had homes everywhere, from New York to the Bahamas. He excluded himself from the day-to-day street operations of his illicit business, but everyone knew he was still the head nigga in charge.

  Lennox wasn’t as well established as Fumes, but he was a heavy hitter too. He was a Dominican from Washington Heights and owned a barbershop and some bodegas. The only reason Kola invited him to her parties was because he was a big spender and a show-off. He would make it rain dollar bills in the strip clubs and spend twenty thousand dollars at the bar on women and friends.

  Kola planned to have a one-on-one conversation with both men before the night was over. She figured Fumes would be harder to pitch to than Lennox. Fumes had seen it all, been there and done that, and was the type of man that needed an accurate blueprint about everything. But, with Lennox, if it was about making him more money, then he was down for anything.

  Kola stood close by watching both men. She observed Perry disappearing into one of the back rooms with Sassy.

  Kola went after Fumes first, cornering him by the bar while he was with one of the girls. “What you want, teenybopper?” Fumes said.

  “A minute of your time.”

  “My time, huh. Well, unfortunately, my time is taken.”

  “Well, when will it not be taken?” Kola focused her eyes on his, holding a firm posture, letting him know she wasn’t intimidated.

  “I’ll call you.”

  “You need to do that.”

  “I don’t need to do shit, little girl, but breathe and fuck.”

  Fumes puffed on his cigar with his eyes and attitude clearly illustrating that he had little respect for Kola. He saw her as a baby in a grown man’s business. Fumes felt she didn’t belong anywhere around adult dealings. Fumes was from the old school and felt girls like Kola should stay in their place, fucking men like him and taking care of their babies. He tolerated Kola’s parties because he felt that pussy was allowed to sell pussy, but drugs and other things were too much for a female to handle. Fumes always stated that women were too emotional to do what he did and couldn’t get their hands dirty like him.

  Kola didn’t like Fumes’ attitude toward her. She passed him her card and strutted away.
<
br />   Fumes stared at her, a wretched expression across his face. “Cross needs to put that little bitch over his lap and spank her ass for getting in his fuckin’ business,” he said to one of his men.

  His friend laughed.

  Kola went looking for Lennox next, knowing he would be much easier to talk to. Lennox and Kola chatted in one of the backrooms, and he was ready to jump in bed with her.

  Kola felt she was on her way. She couldn’t wait to see Cross and tell him the good news. She had it all lined up, and those who doubted her would soon be copping from her. Kola felt that between her sex parties and moving weight for Eduardo, in no time, the world would be at her feet. She wanted to be that bitch and was well on her way.

  Chapter 7

  Kola strutted confidently toward the towering building in Jersey City to meet with Eduardo, carrying a duffel bag filled with money. Her nerves were much better than in her first meeting with him. She walked into the building like a diva, wearing a pair of tight-fitting Seven jeans, and a white cable cashmere turtleneck underneath a black denim trench coat. Her legs appeared longer in a pair of sexy high-heeled boots. The same doorman recognized her from a week earlier and quickly called the floor she wanted to go to.

  Kola waited in the lobby to be allowed up, and it was quickly approved. It was the same routine when she stepped off the elevator. The same three men in dark suits were waiting to search her.

  “Hey, boys,” she greeted with a smile.

  The men didn’t smile back. Instead, they did their job searching her thoroughly, and the same man caught a quick, cheap feel at Kola’s expense.

  Not taking it personal, Kola smirked at the man. She was a big girl and wasn’t going to cry over some quick fondling. She was there on business and wanted to keep it that way. “Keep this up and I’m gonna have to start charging you.”

  When they were satisfied, the same man went into the suite to inform Eduardo about Kola’s arrival. He was in and out, and gestured for Kola to enter. Kola followed him, eager to do more business with Eduardo. The suite wasn’t as overwhelming as before. It was like seeing the same act twice. She set the duffel bag down, removed her coat, and took a seat in one of the many chairs.