Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(36)
She had met Jessica, aka the Bunny Rabbit, in a downtown Brooklyn strip club, and after convincing her to spend the night with her, the two left in a gypsy cab early in the morning, just before dawn.
The driver dropped the two young girls off at a brownstone in Fort Greene, where Bunny Rabbit rented a single bedroom weekly on the third floor.
The two didn’t waste time once the bedroom door was shut. Kola moved her hands up Bunny Rabbit’s skirt and removed her panties. She loved Bunny Rabbit’s curves and the way her balloon-size tits jiggled up and down when she moved.
The girls changed positions as often as a racecar driver switches gears in a race. Their tryst continued until dawn broke through the windows of the bedroom.
Later that day, in the early afternoon, Kola was awakened by the ringing of her cell phone, but she ignored it.
Bunny Rabbit slowly turned to face Kola with a nice smile. “Good morning,” Bunny Rabbit greeted.
“Let’s make it a great morning.” Kola cupped Bunny’s breast and continued to kiss on her neck.
They were about to start another round of pleasing, when Kola’s phone went off again. Annoyed, Kola looked at the caller ID and noticed it was Danny calling. Thinking it was probably about some business she needed to deal with, she decided to take the call. When she answered, Danny instantly hit her with the grim news about Nichols. She stood up and reacted with a quick tantrum, which startled Bunny Rabbit.
“Baby, is everything OK?” Bunny Rabbit asked with a nervous stare.
Kola ignored the innocent question. In full tears after she hung up, she quickly got dressed. Danny had mentioned that he would pick her up, and fifteen minutes after the phone call, he was outside the brownstone. Kola got into the Tahoe and wanted to hurry back into Harlem.
*****
Kola arrived in Harlem an hour after her sister’s body was placed into a body bag and taken to the city morgue, getting there just in time to see the end result of the police investigation.
A small crowd was still gathered around the crime scene, and the whispers and speculation continued among the locals. Police tried to gather as much evidence and statements from those around, but many didn’t know anything, and those who did, refused to cooperate.
Kola rushed from the truck and ran to the roped-off crime scene. Stunned with grief, she was unable to fight back the tears that trickled underneath her dark shades. The big bad wild side of her was quickly replaced with a crying teenager who didn’t understand why her sister was dead. She stood in the middle of the street looking like a lost little girl, her eyes stuck on where they had found the body in the trash.
Kola had a fierce reputation in the hood, ran with a dangerous drug crew, but still someone had the balls to murder Nichols. She felt helpless that she wasn’t able to protect her little sister from being tossed in the trash like garbage.
Danny stood next to the inconsolable Kola. He put his arm around her and vowed, “Yo, we gonna find out who did this. You know that, right? We gonna kill whoever was behind this.”
Kola didn’t answer him. She just continued to stare where her sister had fallen. One particular name wouldn’t leave her mind—Supreme.
“Supreme did this! That muthaf*cka gotta die!”
Danny wanted to ask particulars, but thought against it for now. He didn’t need to know the why’s and how’s. Not right now. Not while she was grieving. Instead, he replied, “I got your back, Kola.”
She looked around for one of his associates but didn’t see anyone. She went up to the local residents still lingering around the crime scene, and with weight in her tone, she asked, “Yo, any of y’all seen my sister Apple?”
The few men and women shook their head and replied with a no. But a thirteen-year-old girl said to Kola, “They took her down to the precinct.”
Kola didn’t even thank the young girl for the information. She just stormed away and headed to the apartment to see her mother. Danny followed behind her, trying to keep up.
Kola rushed up the stairway, stormed through the front door, and shouted out for her mother. But she didn’t get an answer.
Danny entered seconds later and observed Kola moving down the hallway hastily.
She pushed open her mother’s bedroom door and found her curled up in the corner between the unmade bed and weathered dresser, butt naked and holding a bottle of Johnny Walker in her hand.
Kola snatched the bottle out of her mother’s grip and smashed it against the wall, staining the walls with its contents. “What the f-uck is you doin’?” she yelled. “Your daughter’s dead, and you up here gettin’ f*ckin’ drunk!”
Denise looked up at her daughter with cold eyes and replied, “Get the f-uck out my room, Kola!”
“Fuck, no! Look at you! You’re f*ckin’ pathetic, Ma. Nichols is dead, and you wanna sit here and drink yourself to death. You want me to feel sorry for you? Well, I f*ckin’ don’t. You a dumb bitch.”
Danny entered the bedroom to find Kola standing over her naked mother and raining down a barrage of insults at the woman. He stood near the doorway and minded his business. It was a family affair that he didn’t want to get involved with. He figured Kola was grieving over the death, and he believed her way with dealing with the pain was through anger and violence.
Denise slowly stood to her feet, her face twisted in anguish, and her speech back to her daughter was slurred.