Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(56)



“You came for anything else, Cross? What you lookin’ for?” she asked, flirting.

Cross smiled. “Yo, is there some place where we can talk in private?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

Cross followed closely behind Kola, moving through the place and walking up a spiral stairway. They entered a small room decorated with burning candles, a small bed, and incense.

Kola pivoted on her stilettos to stare at Cross closely. “So, what do you want to talk to me about?”

Cross shut the door to the room and walked up to Kola. The look in his eyes made it clearly known. He didn’t want to talk. He noticed something different about Kola. She was advanced in her own way; mature.

Kola placed her hand against Cross’ chest, admiring his muscular physique, and felt her heart beating like African drums. She looked up at him, her eyes simply giving her away, telling him that she was his to play with for the night, so Cross pulled her into his arms and instantly began caressing her.

Kola unbuckled his jeans, slid out his dick, and went to work on it. She pushed him down onto the bed, taking control, laying him flat on his back, and began sucking his dick with such expertise, she had Cross squirming under her spell, speechless.

When she was done, they quickly stripped off everything, and she mounted his ample erection with a thirsty obsession to f-uck the man her sister had loved for the longest. When Kola felt the fast thrust into her, she gasped and clawed Cross’ thick chest, grinding into him and feeling every inch of him digging deep inside of her.

When they were done, the two quickly got dressed. Kola went back to hosting her party, and with his mind continually replaying their brief encounter, Cross left.





CHAPTER 21




It was the beginning of September, and Apple’s vicious reputation was growing daily. She tormented and severely abused her once close friends. Everyone felt that she was out of control, and her mother wasn’t any better, supporting her daughter’s reckless ways because it kept her fresh in clothes, money, and jewelry. Apple had growing confrontations in Harlem, from her sister to the males and females that hated her. She was always too stubborn to back down from a fight and threatened anyone that crossed her. She looked at herself as improved from how she used to be—na?ve and broke—and vowed never to struggle for a dime ever again. She was heartless with her .22 and small razor, leaving her trademark across half a dozen ladies that dared her.

She drove around Harlem in her pricey powder blue Benz and boasted about her wealth, sporting the nicest clothes and jewelry that money could buy. Money had changed her for the worse. It had gotten so bad for her that one night she exited a local diner from taking her mother out to eat and found her car keyed up, both front tires slashed, and her windshield shattered. Apple was highly upset, but she knew it was only part of the program. Collateral damage, she said to herself. Apple was somewhat glad she had haters. It meant she was relevant.

Apple woke up suddenly around three in the morning in a cold sweat, screaming out from a nightmare she’d been having continuously. She lifted herself out of bed, and welcomed the dim light coming from the television. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and the room was spinning, the walls closing in on her.

*****

Apple found herself alone once more in the luxurious brownstone that she and Supreme shared. Her mother was out gambling till the early morning hours again, and Supreme was never home, which was starting to trouble her. She’d heard rumors about him f*cking other girls, and even though she put the word out that there was no more sleeping off a debt, it had gotten back to her that Supreme had f*cked Ayesha a few times when she couldn’t pay back the five hundred dollars she borrowed.

Apple fumed at Ayesha getting with her man and made a mental note to check her when she saw her in the streets. Apple wasn’t having it; she wasn’t going to be played like some fool. She felt she had worked too hard to get the finer things, and Ayesha wasn’t going to take the easy way out. She planned to confront her at her home and tell her that she still owed the money, even though she’d f*cked Supreme to clear herself from the debt.

And she was ready to cut Supreme. They hadn’t f*cked in two weeks because Apple felt he was too busy occupying himself with the whores on the streets. She was afraid that maybe he was getting tired of her. She was doing all of his dirty work, while he was basking in the glory.

*****

Right now though, Apple had bigger problems to deal with—her nightmares and her guilt. She was having the same recurring dreams about Nichols. In her dreams, Apple was alone, frightened, and being dragged into a dark, terrifying pit—maybe hell—where she’d hear blood-curling screams from Nichols as she cried out to her in anguish, “Why? Why? Why you let him do this to me?”

It pained her to hear Nichols’ gut-wrenching voice. She felt this paralyzing chill overcome her that she couldn’t escape. Some demonic force would depart from the depths of hell to seize her sadistically and pull her into a long suffering. She would try to scream, shake, bite, and fight her way out of the dark entity’s control over her, but the more she fought, the weaker she became, until finally she’d give in. That’s when she would feel herself sinking down into hell and hear Nichols’ chilling voice fading in the distance. She would stir wildly from her sleep and have to catch her breath. Her nightmare seemed too real, and she would be paranoid for the first ten minutes after waking up.

Nisa Santiago's Books