Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(52)

“I told you, bitch—Stop f*ckin’ wit’ me!”

Mesha cried out and pleaded for her to stop, but Apple wasn’t budging. She stood over Mesha with the .22 in hand and kicked her in the ribs. Mesha wailed, and with her body balled up, she fell over onto her side.

Apple kicked her again. “Bitch, where’s my f*ckin’ money?” She picked up Mesha’s purse and dumped the remaining contents out, looking for anything valuable. She saw the money from Mesha’s cashed paycheck. She counted it, and it only totaled $350. Upset, Apple waved the money in her hand and shouted, “Bitch, this is it? Are you serious?” Apple gave her one swift kick again to her side.

Mesha cried out, “Oowwww!” Still curled up in the fetal position, her side felt like it was on fire. She began crying and begging Apple to stop the abuse, but Apple just looked down at her ex-best friend with cold, callous eyes and pointed the gun at her head.

“Mesha, you better do somethin’, ’cause I ain’t toleratin’ this shit. You come up wit’ our money. I don’t care if you gotta sell your pu-ssy on the streets—You come up wit’ my twenty-five hundred that you now owe, or your grandmother gonna be the one burying you. Then who’s gonna take care of the sick bitch when you’re rottin’ in the f*ckin’ ground?”

Mesha cried out, begging Apple for more time, but Apple wasn’t changing her mind about anything. She robbed Mesha of her paycheck, iPhone, iPod, and earrings, and then left her and her things on the floor of the elevator. Apple hurriedly took the stairs, adding up the stuff she snatched from Mesha. With everything she had taken, she figured it totaled $500, and with the paycheck, her take was $850.

*****

The next night, right after working long hours in the mall, Mesha came home and quickly changed into a snug skirt and tight top. After slipping on her high heels, she rushed back out the door.

An hour later, she stood on the grungy street corners in the shadows of the block, trying to sell her body to the passing cars. Afraid for her life, she was willing to do whatever to get Apple off her back. She shivered as she dried her tears. Mesha was a fresh young girl, and the horny men easily took the bait, snatching her up. With her light skin, hazel eyes, and long legs, it didn’t take long for a trick to stop his car and for her to jump in.

Mesha was such eye-candy, she didn’t get much of a break between her tricks, reluctantly giving head and spreading her legs in the backseat of over a half dozen cars that night.

Within five days of shamefully selling her ass on street corners, she had Apple’s money in full. It was the worst five days of her life. She got no rest and had no peace. Every night when she came home, she would linger in the shower for an hour or more, trying to wash away the filth and shame. Her tears would mix with the shower water, and sometimes Mesha would drop to her knees, trembling. She could still feel the painful penetration from the tricks that violated her.

After a visit to her local physician a week later, Mesha found out she had herpes. Her world came crashing down on her, and she didn’t know what to tell her boyfriend. She cried for days, hating Apple with a passion.

*****

Denise sauntered around Harlem in her new clothing and jewelry, compliments of her daughter, boasting about Apple’s success to everyone, leaving a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth. She felt like she and her daughter had finally come up. But everyone looked at the mother and daughter with disdain. The residents once felt sorry for Denise and Apple for their tragic loss, but when the mother and daughter started to act as if Nichols’ death never happened, their feelings changed toward them. In fact, there were rumors of foul play within the family.

When Kola found out that Apple was now Supreme’s wifey, she was livid. What upset her even more was that her mother was riding with Supreme and Apple because of the money and gifts they flaunted. It seemed like Apple was buying her mother’s love, or maybe silence.

Kola finally confronted her mother late one evening at their old apartment, where she was running a card game out the place, though her new home was with Apple in a magnificent brownstone on the West Side. Denise, grateful for her daughter’s generosity, stayed in the basement. She didn’t know why Apple put her up in a home and bought her the finer things in life with the ill-gotten wealth. She had put her daughters through hell, and wasn’t about to complain or bring up the past now that she was finally living the life she had always dreamed of, and had muthaf*ckas kissing her ass.

Hearing the blaring music from inside, Kola banged on the apartment door of her former home. She stood back, waiting impatiently, ready to kick it down. The bitch changed the f*ckin’ locks, she thought. She banged on the door again.

A moment later, the apartment door opened up, and Denise stood in front of her daughter, holding a glass of wine in her hand. She was dressed in a pair of tight leather pants that accentuated her curves and a mohair-blend camisole sweater that had delicate pointelle stitching with a bit of sparkle. With her new weave reaching down to her back, she looked like newfound money.

Kola’s mouth dropped open.

“Kola, why you here?” Denise asked, surprised to see her.

Kola glared at her mother, wanting to ram her fist down her throat, but she kept her cool. “So this is you now, huh, Ma?”

“What?”

“Ma, how the f-uck you let that shit ride like that? What is wrong wit’ you?”