Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick (21 page)

One of Supreme’s major loan-sharking schemes was through the restaurant businesses that occupied Harlem’s busy streets. He had implemented the scheme about a year earlier. He would take patrons’ credit card information when the failing restaurants couldn’t make their loan repayments. Sometimes, if the owners couldn’t pay him back, he demanded the credit card information of their customers by brute force and threats of death. Supreme would walk into several of the struggling businesses and lend the proprietors the money they needed to keep their businesses afloat, charging them exorbitant interest rates. Some he hit with the “juice” system—If a business received a loan of $10,000, then Supreme required them to pay an extra four points, which was $4000 or more a week.

The owners, scared to get any help from law enforcement, did what they needed to do to survive. Supreme would walk into the establishments under his domain, and he and his goons would eat for free, creating bills in the hundreds, sometimes thousands.

Supreme also had scouts going out into the streets of Harlem, and occasionally downtown Brooklyn, to look for potential victims he could invest in. His young scouts, young boys and girls ranging from ages fifteen to nineteen, would walk into different stores looking for the unfortunate ones who couldn’t afford the items and mostly window-shopped. His scouts would strike up a conversation with the customers, and with influence and game, before day’s end, get them to borrow the cash under the “juice” system, depending on the size of the loan. The customers had a certain amount of time to pay back the money borrowed, with the points added.

Supreme profited well from both schemes. If they couldn’t pay in time, then intimidation and violence followed. Sometimes he would threaten to kidnap family members and loved ones, guaranteeing to the debtors that every week they were late with payment, they would receive a piece of their loved ones in the mail. The women, they had two choices—Pay back in cash or work it off sexually. Supreme’s goons would rape them or occasionally force them to work as prostitutes or hostesses in sleazy nude underground spots throughout the city to pay off their debt.

Supreme even brought misery to hard-up families by offering loans to tide them over. One terrified client of his was so scared, he hung himself after his $500 loan spiraled to $3,000. Sometimes the borrowers were paying more than $500 a week in interest. Supreme wanted his money and he wanted it fast.

Apple and Supreme soon became an item, the hood speculating and gossiping about her involvement in his operation, from corner to corner. She became the most talked-about girl, and when they didn’t see her at Nichols’ funeral several weeks earlier, they began to have their doubts about her.

Before long, Apple started doing some of the debt-collecting herself. Supreme taught her how to be hardhearted and not to let anyone slide out of debt, explaining, if you let one individual pass on a debt, then the others would be looking for a pass too, or a fucking handout. He let it be known that he wasn’t running a charity case and had convinced Apple that anyone late with payment or refusing to pay was taking money out her pockets as well, which meant no new Gucci or Prada for her to style in, or no riding around in the drop-top Benz.

As August began, Apple became known as Supreme’s main chick around the way, confronting those that didn’t pay, like a pit bull in a skirt, carrying around a nickel-plated .22
and a small razor for any problems that sprung up in her line of work. She’d easily cut and pistol-whipped a few bitches that tried her, spreading her reputation on the streets of Harlem. Too bad, they chose to learn the hard way that she meant business.

With the women, Apple made it clearly known that there wouldn’t be any more sleeping off their debts with Supreme or any of his goons. Having to duck and hide from Supreme herself not too long ago, she’d quickly learned the tricks of the trade. They either had to pay up or sell their ass on the corners to pay back what they owed. No exceptions.

It was a new day, and Apple was at the top of the food chain for once.

When her cell phone rang, she hesitated before she answered it.

“Whaddup?”

“What’s up, this Cartier.”

Apple’s mood soured. “Where you been? I called you ages ago about Nichols.”

“I was shot, bitch. Me and my daughter, so I couldn’t get right back.”

Apple didn’t like the tone in Cartier’s voice, but knew better than to react. She’d already heard about Cartier’s run-in and how Bam had gotten murdered; the streets don’t keep no secrets.

“Oh, my bad. But you OK, now right? You and baby-girl?”

“Yeah, we good but I heard from Kola and you wildin’.”

“Fuck that bitch! She just jealous, that’s all.”

“Nah, I don’t get that from her. Kola said she was tossin’ up Harlem for Nichols while you went MIA. She said you let dick come between fam. The streets are talkin’ ’bout you and ’Preme, and so is Kola.”

“How you gonna take her side over mines?” Apple was spent. She thought she was closer to Cartier than her sister. “I can’t really talk over the phone, but the Nichols situation got handled. That was all me!”

“Look, we peoples, but fam is fam. You don’t go against the grain for no fuckin’ body. Kola wanted me to come through to help her tie up a few loose ends, but I’m heading OT for a while, but wanted to touch base to make sure you and Kola would squash your beef.”

“Oh, no doubt. It’s ain’t that serious,” Apple lied.

“You sure?”

“One hundred.”

Apple couldn’t wait to hang up with Cartier and get right back to her empire. But she did make a mental note to readdress her feelings toward her mentor at a later date. She respected Cartier and all, but gone were the days that she’d let anyone—including Cartier—speak to her like she was less than a boss.

CHAPTER 19

I
t was the middle of August, and Apple hated that she had to collect a certain debt from someone, but business was still business, no matter who fell prey to their system. She waited patiently behind the steering wheel of her powder blue Benz with the top down and kept an eye out. It was late evening, and the block was quiet.

She sat back in her seat and took a few pulls from the blunt she was smoking. She exhaled, enjoying the way the kush worked itself into her system. The chick she was after had been ducking her and Supreme for weeks. Tired of the nonsense, she took it upon herself to handle the matter personally. She wanted her money, and she wasn’t trying to hear any excuses. With interest and the four points, the $900 loan had easily grown to $1,620, and Apple planned on getting back that money one way or another.

She toyed with the radio, flipping back and forth from Hot 97 to Power 105.1. She stopped at Hot 97 upon hearing her boo, Drake, singing “Find Your Love.”

Apple nodded, thinking about the time she saw him perform at Summer Jam with her friends, Ayesha and Mesha. But those were old times. Times had changed for her now.

She looked at herself in the rearview mirror and saw such a difference in herself. She felt she had matured more, and the diamond earrings in her ear made her feel like she was royalty.

A half-hour later, Apple shut her car off, locked her doors, and went into the building, where she took the elevator to the fifth floor. She thought maybe Mesha went into the building through the back, giving her the slip. She banged on Mesha’s door.

Ms. Thomas, Mesha’s elderly grandmother, answered. She was wearing a housecoat and clutching a wooden cane for support. “Hey, Apple. How are you?” she asked in her caring, gentle tone, her eyes lighting up on seeing Apple.

“I’m good, Ms. Thomas. Is Mesha around?”

“Oh dear, she didn’t get home from work yet. You wanna come in?”

“Nah, Ms. Thomas, that’s OK. How you been, though?” Apple asked with concern.

Before Ms. Thomas could answer, she let out a terrible cough. She leaned beside the doorway and clutched her cane tighter as the heavy coughing continued. For a moment, she looked out of breath, like she was ready to collapse at Apple’s feet, but she got herself together and continued on with her talk.

“I’m so sorry about that, Apple. This poor ol’ body is trying to wear out on me,” she said, a little winded, attempting to smile.

“You OK?” Apple asked.

“I’ve been better.”

*****

Ms. Thomas was a frail-looking woman. Despite her high spirits, her health was declining fast. She’d been diagnosed with cancer a few months earlier, and it was spreading fast throughout her body. Uninsured, and with little income coming in, her hospital bills were piling up every month.

Mesha was stressed over her grandmother’s health, and the sales job she had at the mall barely covered the bills. She was soon forced into a corner when they received an eviction notice on their door. On top of that, her grandmother’s long hospital stay in the late spring put them in so much debt, she felt she needed to look to other resources. The first thing she did was go to her boyfriend, but he didn’t have any savings. He had worked as a paralegal for the City of New York, but right before he completed his probationary period he was let go. Not enough money in the budget for all the new hires. With the horrible economy, he’d been out of work for months.

She soon turned to Supreme for the money to stop the eviction from happening, since being homeless with a sick grandmother wasn’t an option for her. Supreme lent her the money, and then shortly after, her debt, like everyone else’s, began spiraling out of control.

Mesha was ready to fuck Supreme to cancel her debt when she couldn’t afford to pay it back, but Apple quickly put a stop to that, and the threats followed right after. Mesha was shocked that her once best friend could turn on her like they were strangers, and they got into a small confrontation a week back.

*****

Apple had said to her, “Yo, it’s just business, Mesha. It ain’t personal.”

“Business? You gonna do me like that, Apple? I thought we were friends.”

“We good, but we’ll be even better if you pay me my money that you owe.”

“After all these years, the shit we did together, and you know my grandmother is sick? Apple, where the fuck I’m gonna get almost two thousand dollars from? Shit, I only borrowed nine hundred.”

“Look, Mesha, like I said, it ain’t personal, it’s just business—”

Mesha shouted, “It
is
fuckin’ personal! How can you just do me like this after all the shit I fuckin’ done for you? Are you fuckin serious?” She wiped the tears that streamed down her face. “You used to stay at my house when your fucked-up moms used to run you out.”

“Look, Mesha, I don’t wanna have to fuck you up. I know we go way back. That’s why I gave you some time, but you got a week.”

“A week?”

“Yeah.”

“And then what?” Mesha asked with attitude.

“Then it becomes personal wit’ you and me.” Apple turned to walk away.

Mesha stood there fuming. Then she shouted, “Fuck you, bitch! Get the fuck away from my crib! How dare you! What? You Supreme’s ho now? Huh, bitch? You his dumb fuckin’ bitch?”

Apple ignored the insults and kept it moving. She could still hear Mesha cursing her out when she trotted down the pissy stairway.

*****

A week later, now Apple was back at Mesha’s door, talking to her sickly grandmother like things between her and Mesha were good. Apple remembered the many days she’d spent at Mesha’s crib when staying at her own place became too hectic to deal with. But she quickly blocked out that memory and focused on getting her money.

“Ms. Thomas, you take care of yourself. I’ll catch Mesha some other time,” Apple said with a smile.

“You too, Apple. Take care, and please come by more often. I haven’t seen you around,” Ms. Thomas said, unaware of the beef between her granddaughter and Apple.

“I’ll try.” Apple smiled.

When Ms. Thomas closed her door, Apple didn’t leave right away. Instead, she lingered near the stairway, being shadowed in the corner. Looking at the time on her watch, she knew Mesha would be on her way home from work soon. Determined to confront her about her debt once more, she waited for a moment.

When Apple heard the sound of the elevator reaching the floor, she figured it was Mesha and was ready to face her like a raging bull. She stayed poised near the elevator. The second Mesha stepped out of it, she would be on her like stink on shit.

The solid doors slowly slid behind the walls, giving access to the iron lift. The minute Apple saw Mesha step out, holding onto her purse, fumbling with her house keys, looking exhausted after a long day at work, she jumped on her, pushing her back into the elevator with force.

“Where the fuck is my money?”

Caught off guard, a look of shock registered across Mesha’s pretty light-skin face. Apple moved in on her with the speed of lightning. Before Mesha could defend herself, the nickel-plated .22 in Apple’s hand came across her face with a vicious blow, dropping her back and stunning her. The contents of her purse spilled out onto the floor when Apple knocked her to the ground with the second strike.

“I told you, bitch—Stop fuckin’ wit’ me!”