Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(63)
After breakfast, Apple went shopping on 59th Street, spending a small fortune on clothing and jewelry in Bloomingdales and a few boutiques in midtown Manhattan. She strutted around in her high heels and stylish outfit, carrying a few shopping bags, and like Scarface, she felt the world was hers.
*****
The following night, she and Guy Tony continued on with their mission in covering up Supreme’s murder. After the midnight hour, they carried the body out the door and stuffed him into the back of the Escalade. Guy knew of some men that would help dispose of the body for a sizable fee, no questions asked. They linked up with them in New Jersey, made the exchange, and before dawn were driving across the George Washington Bridge back into New York.
The past two days had been exhausting for Apple, but the deed was finally done. Now she was on her way up. Throughout that week, after Supreme’s murder, she put the hit out on anyone who she felt might become a threat or a problem for her. She needed Guy Tony to have her back because he was well-liked and respected. Apple knew once he confirmed that she was “official business,” the others would soon follow in line.
With Supreme MIA, people became suspicious and came to their own conclusions about his unexpected disappearance. There were arguments and speculations about Apple’s quick rise to power, but Guy Tony quickly put the doubters in check—even if it meant putting the murder game down.
The one thing Apple’s mother always taught her so well was, if you f-uck a nigga the right way, he’ll give you the world. pu-ssy made things happen. Apple couldn’t be more proud of herself, because her sweet pu-ssy had acquired her power and wealth.
*****
Apple had one last thing to accomplish. Something personal. She wanted to send out a strong message.
It was a late Sunday night, when she rode shotgun in the Escalade, Guy Tony driving and another one of his goons seated in the backseat. The truck stopped in front of St. Nicholas projects on Eighth Avenue. Apple took a few pulls from the cigarette and watched the area as the goon in the backseat got out and tucked a .380 down his pants. He then disappeared into the projects, while she and Guy Tony waited patiently in the Escalade.
*****
A short moment later, Ayesha emerged from her building and began walking toward Eighth Avenue in her tight jeans and trendy tight top that accentuated her ample b-reasts. Clutching her Gucci handbag, she was ready to catch a cab to meet her date, who was waiting for her in Times Square. She planned on having dinner at Planet Hollywood and then catching a comedy show with someone she really liked.
As Ayesha neared Eighth Avenue, Apple’s hired goon quickly crept up behind her, raised the .380 to the back of her head, and fired twice into her skull, sending her smashing into the ground face first. The loud shot echoed throughout the projects, rousing residents and startling those close by. The goon ran off and jumped in the truck, leaving Ayesha’s body spread out on the hard concrete, a pool of blood forming around her torn skull.
“Dumb bitch!” Apple stared at the body of her once close friend. “Talk that shit now.”
Guy busted a U-turn on Eighth Avenue and sped up the block.
Apple wanted to send out a strong message to the community that doubted her power and wanted to talk shit about her. Don’t f-uck with me!
After Ayesha’s murder, everyone soon got the message. They soon realized there was a new sheriff in town. Some thought she was even more vicious than Supreme.
CHAPTER 23
It was the heart of October, and Apple wasn’t the only sister to step her game up. Kola felt she needed to outdo her sister.
Kola and Cross were an item in the hood. It was like the ultimate merger when they’d linked up. Kola was the envy of every chick throughout Harlem, with her being the first woman that Cross wifed up, and she made it known every day that Cross was her boo by styling in his Range Rover and being in his arms constantly. When they’d started doing business together, Cross realized she was smart and fierce, like a female version of him.
Kola and Cross obtained a contemporary three-bedroom single-family home in Yonkers, not too far from Yonkers Raceway. Their place was far enough from Harlem’s active streets, but was a short enough drive to allow them to continue taking care of business.
Kola was happy. They were making money in every direction. Becoming a high-priced madam, her sex parties were continuing to blow up, and Cross had gotten a new drug connect, still having the hood on lockdown with product and muscle. Still, he had rivals who wanted to see his downfall, and he never knew when and how the feds were watching him.
Cross couldn’t afford to have any slip-ups, so the couple kept everything discreet. No direct phone calls, no meetings with anyone that they didn’t know personally, and no unnecessary violence, to avoid unwanted attention.
While Kola and Cross tried to keep a low profile, Apple was a different story. She was becoming the Tony Montana of Harlem, making enemies in every which way.
The sisters had their 18th birthday approaching soon, and Kola wanted to celebrate her birthday big, popping bottles and looking good, the way music moguls did. She wanted the biggest club, the jamming crowd, and the best DJ their money could get them, wanting to bring in her 18th birthday like a superstar.
She and Cross began putting everything in motion. It would be the party of the year. Kola’s birthday bash was going to be held at, Cipriani’s, a posh location in the city. She didn’t want to spare any expenses and was ready to throw the wildest party, like she was P. Diddy himself. She felt she deserved it. The year had been good to her, despite the tragic loss of her sister. She still couldn’t forgive Apple for it, and in her mind, both her sisters and mother died that day. She didn’t want any dealings with them. And, though some time had passed, the pain was still fresh in her heart.