Coca Kola - The Baddest Chick (2 page)

“Baby, just chill out. Don’t be trippin’, you hear me? We gonna be good, you know what I’m saying?”

“I guess.”

“But, listen. Business is always business. Shit don’t stop. I hate that I’ma miss that game wit’ Eddie, though. It’s a really big game. I got money on this game.”

Kola quickly picked up that Cross was speaking in code, and being aware that their conversation was probably being recorded, she went along. She listened closely.

“How much was the tickets?”

“Expensive. But you go in my place, baby. Enjoy yourself.”

“I don’t like football.”

“But I don’t want them tickets to go to waste while I’m fuckin’ stuck up in here. Eddie got me a good deal on them tickets, Kola. Just go wit’ the nigga and put ’em to good use.”

Kola sucked her teeth. Cross wanted her to meet his connect, Eduardo—Eddie for short—and buy some work. But it wasn’t Kola’s line of work. She did sex parties and was a borderline pimp. She didn’t feel comfortable meeting with Cross’ connect. Still, she was a ride-or-die chick and, like her man, a natural-born hustler.

“Baby, he’ll teach you the game. Just go and have fun. It’s football. And we got seats right on the fifty-yard line. You gonna see everything.”

“How close?”

“Really close. The spread on the game is by fifteen.”

“I got you, baby,” a confident Kola replied.

“That’s my baby. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” Kola replied with a smile.

“But I’ma hit you up. And don’t worry about this charge. It ain’t gonna stick. You know we got lawyers to fuck wit’ these pigs.”

“I know.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Kola with the phone in her hand and nothing but silence. She sighed and tossed her phone on the bed.

She was being thrust into Cross’ world unexpectedly to meet with a Colombian connect. However, with Cross, Edge, and Mike-Mike locked up, she knew somebody had to step up and take charge. Now wasn’t the time to be nervous. She was ready to become “that bitch,” like she was born and raised to be.

Chapter 2

E
arth, Wind and Fire blared throughout the fifth-floor two-bedroom apartment. There was thick cigarette smoke lingering in the living room, bottles of alcohol spread out near the folding card table, and a new deck of playing cards ready to be opened for a wild and crazy game of pitty-pat or spades. It was Denise’s night to party, get drunk, and maybe get her freak on, if the right man approached her with the correct game. She wanted to smoke like a chimney, yell and act out behind a game of spades, then get herself some dick by the end of the night. She wanted to be free like a bird tonight. No rules, no restrictions.

Denise strutted around her apartment clad in a miniskirt, exposing her meaty thighs and fresh tattoo, and a tight, tiny, metallic plunging-neckline halter top that showed enough cleavage to make the room feel almost x-rated. She held a glass of vodka in her hand and took casual sips as she walked around the apartment preparing everything for her soon-to-arrive guests.

Denise loved throwing her card-game parties. She loved the loud chatter, the cursing and shit-talking, along with the flirting, heavy drinking, chain smoking, and blaring music. On a good night, her place was as ghetto as they come. The men got tipsy and sometimes would become a little too frisky. And if a certain woman was up to it, with the liquor making her more flirtatious and promiscuous than usual, then she would find herself in one of the back bedrooms with her skirt up or jeans down, with her wet pussy about to make a hard dick come.

Denise didn’t mind anyone using her bedroom for sex or sniffing blow, as long as they didn’t make too much of a mess and paid to play. She understood that everybody needed to have fun, and being the hustler she was, she was able to pay her rent through her wild weekly card games and renting out the bedrooms for pleasure.

She was still salty with Apple. She couldn’t believe her bitch of a daughter had the audacity to throw her own mother out with only the clothes on her back. But Denise had quickly bounced back and was steadily getting herself together again. Yet she still wanted to smack fire out of her daughter’s mouth and beat her down on the streets like she was a stranger.

Denise never thought she would find herself back in the projects after living in luxury and being spoiled like one of the Hilton sisters. And though she was laughing and smiling, deep inside, she hated going back to project living again. For her, it was embarrassing.

Denise walked near the window and looked outside, singing along to Earth, Wind, and Fire’s “Shining Star,” and swaying to the beat.

While singing, she heard a knock at the door. It would be only one of many knocks to come during the night. She pivoted in her four-inch heels and went to answer the door. She swung it open with a smile and greeted Nina.

“Hey, girl!” Nina joyfully screamed out.

“Nina! Always the first to get your drink on, huh.” Denise greeted her with a hug.

Nina was in her late thirties and as whorish as they come. During Denise’s last card game, she got pissy drunk, naked, and was fucked by her one-time best friend and his brother. Denise only tolerated Nina because she made Denise look like Claire Huxtable when they were in the same room.

“What you got to drink in here, girl?” Nina asked, rushing into the apartment in search of the Grey Goose. “You know I gotta sip on my Goose.”

Denise laughed and pointed over to the bottles. “And take it easy on my shit, Nina. I don’t need you actin’ a fool before our game even starts.”

Nina sucked her teeth. “Girl, I got this. I know how to hold my liquor.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Denise smirked. “Like last time when the Durant brothers ran a train on you in the bedroom.”

“At least they were cute.”

“Slut.”

Nina ignored the comment and poured herself a half cup of Goose mixed with some cranberry juice. She quickly took it to the head and was ready for another one. As Nina was about to pour herself another shot, she looked at Denise with a look of urgency, ready to spill some important news.

“Girl, I know you heard what happened to Apple the other night.”

Denise didn’t want to hear that name in her house. She despised everything about Apple and wanted to forget she even gave birth to her.

“Some crackhead walked up to her while she was flaunting in front of her new ride and tossed some acid in her face. She was lookin’ a hot mess, Denise. I mean, I know that’s ya daughter and everything, but word around town is that she deserved it, the way she was acting.”

Denise looked nonchalant after hearing the news. “I could care less.”

“I’m just saying, there might be some shit going on behind that. You know Apple.”

“I don’t wanna hear shit about no muthafuckin’ Apple!” Denise barked. “That bitch is dead to me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Well, bitch, you is.”

Nina shrugged and continued to sip on her drink.

Denise removed a cigarette from her pack and lit it. She was more worried about her card game than Apple’s predicament. She walked over to the window and looked outside. She sighed heavily as the murder of her youngest daughter, Nichols, loomed in her head. It had been months since her death, and Denise couldn’t help feeling guilty. She was never the heartwarming, reliable mother to any of her daughters. And now, with the youngest gone, one of her twins in the hospital, and the other almost absent from her life completely, she resorted to drinking, partying, and having sex to ease the pain of her troubled life.

“Fuck her!” Denise muttered to herself. She took another drag from her cigarette.

Denise knew she wasn’t getting any younger. She didn’t have any retirement plan, and tricking off niggas and hustlers was getting old for her. She still had her curvy, attractive figure, but every year there was something changing about her. She was gaining more weight; her breasts didn’t sit high like they used to; she had a little pouch; and the younger girls were throwing pussy at every baller they came across, whoring themselves out at a much younger age, and making the competition more fierce for her in the streets.

Nina lingered by the bar, chatting on her cell phone, while Denise stood by the window and smoked. She would be forty soon, and her life wasn’t getting any better. She missed Nichols deeply. She remembered how that little girl used to burn in the kitchen some mornings and how she was so smart and sweet. It tore a hole in Denise’s heart that her youngest daughter was murdered and dumped in a dumpster like yesterday’s leftovers. And she couldn’t do anything about it.

Denise knew, if Nichols was alive, she probably would have been in a better situation with her older twins and that Nichols would’ve done whatever she had to do to bring her sisters and mother closer together. Denise missed Nichols’ warm, caring heart.

Denise quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, making sure not to face Nina with her eyes puffy and watery. She didn’t want Nina to see her looking vulnerable.

Denise took another pull from her cigarette before turning to Nina. “You ready to wild out tonight, bitch?”

Nina smiled and raised her cup. “Ya know it, girl. Where everybody at anyway?”

***

Four hours later, Denise’s apartment was in full swing with people and loud music. Anita Baker was playing from the stereo, and the thick, lingering cigarette and weed smoke mixing together made some of the strongest lungs in the room cough from contact. The tainted smell carried heavily into the hallway. There was a comfortable mixture of men and women, and they all were cursing, drinking, and carrying on. The bottles of liquor that Denise had set out earlier were almost down to a swallow, so Nina and a friend had to do another run to the liquor store to get a few more bottles.

Denise sat at the card table playing spades, a burning cigarette dangling from her lips and a half cup of Goose sitting in front of her. She smiled at the hand she had and shouted, “It’s muthafuckin’ on up in here! I’m gettin’ my fuckin’ rent paid tonight.”

The sadness and gloomy mood she’d been feeling earlier quickly disappeared when company arrived, and she was her usual self again—a swearing, teasing, loud-mouthed bitch. Her deceased daughter Nichols was no longer on her mind. The only thing that concerned her was the pot of money resting on the card table and probably fucking one of the cuties chilling in her apartment.

Tipsy, Nina was sitting on a man’s lap and her tits were all in his face. He placed his hand between her legs and whispered the things she wanted to hear in her ear. It didn’t take long for her to disappear with him into one of the bedrooms.

“Wear a fuckin’ condom!” Denise shouted humorously.

Denise focused back on her game and stared into her partner’s eyes. It was clear as a sunny, warm June day that they both had a thing for each other. Robert was her spades partner, and they were killing the other team. They were ready to win the five hundred dollars up for grabs.

Robert was tall, lean, and barely breaking his twenties. He sported long braids, smooth, dark skin, and was easy on the eyes from head to toe. He had a winning white smile and full lips that made Denise think of him eating her out. Coming up under Cross, Robert’s style of clothing was sharp, and his jewelry was always on point. That night, he wore a lengthy white gold and diamond chain with a diamond-encrusted cross pendant that almost blinded Denise. And he sported a pair of diamond stud earrings, a Cartier watch on one wrist, and a matching yellow gold and diamond bracelet on the other.

Denise wasn’t the only woman in the room checking out Robert. He had a few female admirers, but she made it her business to make it known that she was interested in the young hustler.

She smiled at him and bluntly asked, “So, Robert, you like cougars?”

Robert smiled. “I like any kind of cat. Pussy is pussy.”

“Oh really? So, maybe I need to take your young ass to the zoo and have you pet one.”

Robert chuckled, but Andrea didn’t think Denise’s comment was funny. She cut her eyes at Denise and said, “Ain’t cougars suppose to be extinct anyway?”

“Oh no, she didn’t!” someone exclaimed.

Denise cut her eyes over at the young girl dressed in the tight Apple Bottom jeans and tight shirt with the long ponytail and replied, “And cougars are known to kill viciously. Don’t get hurt up in my place, little girl. Besides, it’s always good for a growing boy to have some meat on his plate.”

Andrea rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. She had a huge crush on Robert and had been trying to fuck him since the summer. Robert was amused by the not-so-subtle catfight between the young and the old. Still, he had his eyes on Denise. He loved his women mature.

Andrea knew her boundaries when it came to messing with Denise. The thirty-six-year-old wildcat was known to cut a few bitches back in her days, so she didn’t feel threatened by the girl.

She continued with the card game, and blurted out, looking at Andrea, “Just like my damn daughters—so fuckin’ stupid. Don’t get fucked up over some dick that don’t even belong to you.”

Andrea could only roll her eyes and look at Denise sideways.

The house phone rang while Denise was in the middle of her minor dispute and a good hand. She answered the call with an agitated tone, only to hear it was a nurse informing her that her daughter was injured and in critical condition at Jamaica Hospital.