Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(71)
“Yo, Guy, please, man, I’m sorry. It wasn’t personal with you. Just business, man. I’m just trying to survive,” Munchies said.
Guy glared at him, the 9mm still trained at his head. His eyes showed no remorse for the victim. He mockingly replied, “You was tryin’ to survive.” He fired point-blank into Munchies’ forehead, killing him instantly.
Munchies’ blood splattered everywhere, even on Guy Tony, who calmly exited the room, leaving Munchies slumped in his chair and his friend lying face down on the ground, a thick pool of blood forming underneath him. Guy Tony needed to leave right away. Since the shots were loud, he knew someone had probably called the police. He swiftly moved past curious employees, some of whom noticed the blood on him and panicked.
“Oh my God!” a man shouted. “Somebody, call nine-one-one!”
Guy Tony pushed past the nosy men and women and rushed outside to his truck. After tucking the gun safely into his waistband, he climbed into his SUV and sped off. Guy Tony was so furious, he almost hit a parked car. He sped toward the Westside Highway and hit the clear stretch of highway going south.
“I swear, I’ma kill that f*ckin’ bitch!” he cried out to himself. “Oooh, I’ma f-uck her up!”
CHAPTER 25
“How did he f-uck it up?” Apple screamed out. “It was so f*ckin’ simple! Kill him and we would be good!”
“Well, Munchies and his boy are dead now. Guy f*cked them up real good. He gave Munchies somethin’ for his fat ass to chew on,” the caller said.
“You find this f*ckin’ funny?” Apple spat.
“Nah, I’m just sayin’—”
“Just shut the f-uck up!”
Apple paced back and forth in her living room, the cell phone glued to her ear. She knew it would only be a matter of time before Guy Tony came looking for her, that there was no fixing the situation with him this time.
“I’ll call you back.”
She hung up her phone and then smashed it into the wall. She stormed through her living room and knocked over a lamp, causing it to smash against the parquet floors. “I don’t believe this shit!” she screamed out.
Apple went outside into her backyard and lit up a cigarette. She took a few quick pulls and was upset that she got the news about the failed hit on her eighteenth birthday. She exhaled, leaned back against the patio door, and figured she had to step up her security team. Guy Tony knew too much about her—her home, her business, and her personal life. He pretty much helped her put everything together, so Apple felt she needed to change up her habits. She was too vulnerable for attack.
Her first priority was moving from where she was living. She planned on selling the house and relocating somewhere out of Harlem, maybe Queens or Brooklyn. Second, she needed a bigger gun, so she took Chico’s Glock 17 from out the closet and kept it close to her. Third, she had to make herself ghost for a while and lay low. There was no telling where Guy Tony might come after her. Apple knew he would be lurking and plotting. She was going to put the word out to her people and Chico’s crew—$25,000 on Guy Tony’s head.
Despite the bad news and drama, she was going to have a good time that night. She planned on crashing Kola’s big birthday bash at the upscale Cipriani’s. She had been hearing about Kola’s party through the grapevine for weeks and heard she went all out for the celebration and wasn’t sparing any expenses.
Apple felt she had the right to be at the party too. After all, it was her birthday also, and she figured that for one night, she would let bygones be bygones with her sister because she wanted in on the party—the VIP, the champagne, and the limelight. It was a night she didn’t want to forget.
In an attempt to calm her nerves, Apple went back into her home and ran some bathwater. She submerged herself into the sunken tub, unwinding in the warm, soothing water, with the warmth of the sun shining through from the skylight above. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began pleasing herself with the plastic dildo while Chico was out of town meeting his connect. Afterwards, she planned on getting ready to attend Kola’s party in style.
*****
The line and crowd outside of Cipriani’s was remarkable. Hundreds of people were waiting to get into Kola’s birthday bash on the breezy October night. High-end cars lined the city street from corner to corner, while security tried to maintain crowd control by the front entrance. The ladies were adorned in the most eye-catching, scantiest clothing, the shortest skirts, mini-dresses, and plunging tops showing ample cl-eavage, while the men were decked in urban wear and bling, some flaunting their wealth like it was going out of style.
Kola’s bash would soon become the most talked-about event. The venue was able to hold up to 2,500 people. Inside the 40,000-square-foot landmark, with the hottest New York DJ spinning his mixes above the massive crowd, were half-naked models walking around the crowd with painted-on bikini tops, serving drinks and dazzling the revelers. There was a seven-foot-tall champagne fountain of flowing Cristal centered on the stage, flanked by two exquisite, colossal ice sculptures, one engraved with Happy Birthday, Kola and the second, Queen Bee.
The loud music was streaming and had everyone dancing, while suspended above the revelers’ heads were several giant LCD monitors that displayed different images of the birthday girl.