Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(39)
Supreme was a strong and powerful man, outweighing Apple by a hundred-plus pounds and towering over her by almost a foot. She knew he could easily snap her neck and toss her body to the side, but she was so fueled with rage, she felt like she had the power of Superman.
Apple continued to look at the door of Apartment 4B right in front of her. She began to wonder why she was hesitating. Had it been Kola in her place, it would have been on and popping. With a few thugs backing her, Kola would have kicked down the door with her crew and shot up everyone in the place.
Wiping the few tears that trickled down her cheeks, she felt like her heart was trying to rip through her chest. She felt her adrenaline kicking in and wanted to take full advantage of the situation. She clenched her fist and bit down on her bottom lip, knowing that those responsible for killing Nichols were almost certainly behind the door. It would be easier to just call up Kola and have her handle things, but she wasn’t speaking to her sister at all, especially after Kola had attacked her and put the full blame on her. She thought it was best to keep her twin sister out the mix for now and keep her distance, since things were getting really ugly between the two of them.
Apple began psyching herself up by thinking about Nichols, knowing her body was rotting away in some morgue while Supreme was chilling and still breathing.
“Fuck this shit!” she said to herself. She banged on the door like she was police and then stood there firmly with a livid stare, ready for anything.
Becoming impatient, she banged on the door again. It took a while for someone to answer, but eventually, she heard the locks turning, and the door slowly opened. A tall, slender man answered with an unpleasant look, wearing a wife-beater, his upper body swathed with tattoos, and braids twisted down to his back.
He looked at Apple, his face warped from irritation. “Yo, who the f-uck is you? And why you bangin’ on my f*ckin’ door like you police?”
“Supreme here?” she asked sternly, ready to push him out her way and look for herself.
“What, bitch? Who the f-uck is you?” he barked.
“I’m lookin’ for Supreme,” she repeated unwaveringly.
The man looked her up and down. “Yo, you one of his side chicks?”
Apple was tired of his questions and rushed forward, ready to fight him.
“Yo, you better step the f-uck back!” he said, blocking the entrance into the apartment. “You don’t f*ckin’ know me!”
But Apple didn’t scare easily, especially not now with fire and rage running through her blood. “I’m not leaving until I see that muthaf*cka!” she exclaimed.
The stranger sighed heavily. The last thing he needed was his nosy neighbors calling the cops because of a dispute in front of his doorway. He frowned at Apple then turned into the apartment and shouted, “Yo, ’Preme, you got some crazy broad out here lookin’ for ya ass! Come check her before I do!”
Apple heard Supreme shout back, “Who that, Don?”
“I don’t know, nigga, but she finer than a muthaf*cka.” Don looked at Apple with a corrupt smile. “Whoever she is, she looks like she wants to scratch your eyes out.”
Apple wasn’t intimidated. She held her ground and waited for Supreme to appear.
Don stepped back from the doorway, and Supreme walked up. When he saw Apple standing in the hallway, a smile crept up on his face.
“Oh shit! Look who we got here. How the f-uck did you find me?” Supreme asked, with some weight in his tone.
“I got resources,” she spat.
Supreme chuckled. “What you want? You ready to pay back what you owe wit’ f*ckin’ interest?”
“Muthaf*cka, are you f*ckin’ serious?”
Supreme casually replied, “Yeah, I’m f*ckin’ serious.”
“Fuck you, muthaf*cka!” Apple shouted. “I ain’t payin’ you shit! How dare you!”
“Yo, yo, y’all gotta take this shit from in front of my door. I got f*ckin’ neighbors that be all in my business.”
“Yo, Apple, step inside. Let’s talk.”
Apple hesitated for a moment. She tried to hold back her tears, but with Supreme standing there with a smirk on his face and still asking about her debt, she was ready to reach for her concealed blade and cut him open.
Don said to her, “Yo, shawty, you in or out? You can’t be causing this drama in the hallway. This ain’t that kind of building.”
Apple went into the apartment, and Don closed the door. She was quickly overwhelmed by the décor of the place, with its marble flooring and modern furniture that had to be worth about fifty thousand. She was surprised to see the assortment of artwork that lined the eggshell-colored walls, which included a few framed photographs of Al Pacino lifted from various scenes in Scarface and two photos of the Gambino mob boss, John Gotti. There was a 60-inch plasma screen mounted on the wall and a high-end sound system with speakers scattered throughout the room, and a collection of movies and CDs all over.
Apple was taken aback by the place. For a moment, her mind was somewhere else. This was the way she’d always dreamed of living. It was like she’d stepped into a different world. The layout of the place was phenomenal—Italian décor in the living room, and marble floors and countertops in the foyer and kitchen area, which changed to parquet flooring in the living room. She didn’t know niggas could live like this in Harlem.