Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick (29 page)

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Authors: Nisa Santiago

Tags: #Urban Fiction, #New York (N.Y.), #Fiction, #Urban Life, #Street Life, #Sisters, #African American, #General

BOOK: Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick
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“I’m good. I was fucked up the other night, but I’m good.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Guy Tony looked at her, his eyes staying on her long legs a little too long, with Apple’s skirt riding up her thigh. He licked his lips. “I missed you,” he said. He leaned in close to her, placing his hand on her thigh.

“I know you did. I missed you too.”

Apple didn’t flinch upon feeling his touch, but kept her composure. She knew she needed to play his game and convince him that everything was OK, until the deed was done. So she continued with her fake smiles and positive attitude toward him, becoming that Academy Award-winning actress for the day. Inside, she felt disgusted by him and figured once the threat was gone, she could breathe easily.

As they talked, Guy Tony began to relax, feeling like his old self once more. Still, Apple could no longer trust him. She continued on with her role, and to seal his trust, she took his hand and placed it farther up her skirt.

She didn’t resist the sexual gesture, feeling the warmth between her thighs, and as his reach advanced, he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties, which aroused him. Guy Tony’s eyes danced with excitement.

Apple let his fingers explore for a short moment, but was unmoved by his finger pushing inside of her. She pulled his lips close and locked onto him with a strong kiss. She could feel his heart racing. The taste of his breath made her want to puke, but she went along with the program, maintaining her calm, trying to avoid cutting open his throat. She couldn’t afford to get her hands dirty.

She suddenly pulled away from him, leaving him yearning for her to continue. With the foreplay out the way, she wanted to get back to business. “I got some business for you,” she said. “I need you to do a pickup for me.”

“Where?”

“Tomorrow. That spot over on a Hundred and Forty-Fifth Street. Munchies owe me a payment, five stacks. I trust you with it.”

“A’ight, I’m on it.”

Apple smiled. “It’s good to have you back, Guy.”

“Like old times, right?”

“Of course.” To seal the deal, Apple kissed him once more. She felt his lips lock onto hers so tight that she thought he would pull her tongue from her mouth. She pulled away, smiled at him, and exited his truck.

While walking back to her Benz, she felt the urge to wash her mouth out with soap. Guy Tony had never been a good kisser. He was sloppy, too wet, and it always felt like he was trying to swallow her whole.

Looking in her rearview mirror, she watched him pull off and hoped by tomorrow night, he wouldn’t be a problem for her anymore. He was just too stupid to realize he was walking into a trap.

Apple continued to look into her rearview mirror while touching up her lipstick that Guy Tony had smeared. She then stared at her eyes. They had changed into something so cold and calculating. She had transformed into a completely different woman after her little sister’s murder. A year ago, she wouldn’t even have thought to have someone murdered, but now it came easy to her, like child’s play.

*****

Guy Tony stopped in front of Munchies’ spot just as the night was about to cover the city. The streets were still busy with people and traffic, the fall gradually changing the color of the leaves on the trees. He got out his truck, a 9mm hidden underneath his Völkl jacket, and looked around. The block was slowly losing the day’s traffic of shoppers and residents, who moved up and down the block like they were programmed.

With a determined mindset to get the job done and satisfy Apple, Guy Tony stared at Munchies’ worn-out spot, with its fading green awning and dilapidated front entrance that was slanted on the hill. He yearned to have Apple in his arms again.

After collecting from Munchies, his next big move would be to take out Chico. It was a risk he was willing to take, especially for love.

Guy Tony moved to the front entrance in a confident stride; he was well known in the area. When people saw his face, they didn’t know what to expect from him. Sometimes he was an understanding and reasonable man, other times he was violent and cold. It was his unpredictability that made him feared. He could be lenient, but then again heartless.

After walking into the soul food spot that ran numbers and gambling in a secret back room, he looked around for the owner. The restaurant wasn’t busy, but Guy Tony knew where they got their true money. He could hear dishes and pots moving around in the kitchen. The tables were old, the lighting dimmed, and the flooring tattered. The place was in need of a serious renovation. Despite its raggedy appearance, the food was excellent. Munchies had been around for years, and was famous for its peach and sweet potato pies, fish sandwiches, and crab cakes.

*****

Munchies had hired a nice little staff and management, and soon got rich off his cooking, but greed overcame him. Wanting more, he ran numbers in the back of his place and had late-night gambling downstairs in the stonewall basement. He had his own Atlantic City casino going on, being under the radar of law enforcement for years. Supreme had muscled in on the business two years back, when Munchies was overwhelmed with gambling debts himself and had the IRS investigating him. However, with the help of Supreme, he was able to pull himself out of a slump and get back in business.

Munchies thought, with Supreme gone, he would be able to profit fully from everything, especially with a young girl trying to take over the business. He shunned Apple and taunted her, exclaiming, “I don’t deal wit’ little fuckin’ girls!”

Days later, Apple stepped into Munchies’ spot flanked by three hard-hitting, baseball bat-swinging thugs, and accosted Munchies in front of his patrons. They held the overweight Barry White lookalike to the floor and went to work on him with the bats, hitting him everywhere, except the face.

Munchies wailed out from the pain, hugging the floor. After the beating, Apple placed her heel on his bruised chest, glared down at him with a hardened stare and said to him, “I’m the new bitch in town. Young or old, I’m that bitch that will fuckin’ kill you. Don’t ever doubt me again, you fat fuck!”

Munchies grasped that she meant business, and Apple never had a problem with him again. He soon became her little bitch, doing anything she told him to do.

*****

Guy Tony asked the young waiter for Munchies, and she quickly went into a back room. A short moment later, Munchies emerged and greeted Guy Tony with a smile.

“Guy, yeah, she said that you were coming. You hungry? Thirsty?” Munchies asked in good spirits.

“Fuck the hospitality! You know what I’m here for, Munchies.”

Munchies nodded. “I got that for you in the back. Follow me.”

Guy Tony walked behind him, and the two moved down a short, narrow hallway and entered one of Munchies’ back rooms. Munchies, clad in a white-and-red Sean John warm-up suit, with diamonds dripping off his wrists, neck, and ears, placed himself behind his desk. He liked to be flashy and loved money more than anything else. He reached into his desk drawer and tossed Guy Tony a small brown lumpy envelope stuffed with cash.

“That should cover me, right?” Munchies asked.

Guy Tony took the package in his hand and opened it to inspect the contents. It was filled with twenties, fifties, and hundreds.

Munchies began smoking a cigar and pouring himself a drink.

Guy Tony looked at him suspiciously. He was soon overcome with a nervous feeling. For as long as he knew Munchies, he never gave up a large sum of money without bitching first, always exclaiming, “Y’all fuckin’ breakin’ my pockets, man. Highway robbery, that’s what it is. Robbery.” But Munchies still paid what was owed.

Guy noticed he seemed a little too cool handing over five thousand dollars without a mumbling complaint. “You OK, Munchies?” he asked.

“I’m good.” Munchies smiled and downed his drink. “Never been better.”

Guy Tony looked around, quickly studying every detail of the cluttered room. He noticed the closet door behind him was ajar, and that suddenly became his point of interest. He had a feeling someone was hiding in the dark, waiting for him to let his guard down.

“Guy, have a seat. Drink?” Munchies offered.

It was another giveaway that something was wrong. Munchies never wanted him to stay longer than he had to.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ma take off.” Guy Tony watched Munchies’ eyes and noticed them focusing on something behind him, looking toward the closet door, possibly signifying they weren’t alone in the room. He placed his hand near his weapon, ready to strike.

“You sure, Guy? I mean, you ain’t gotta rush off too soon,” Munchies said loudly.

Guy Tony’s survival impulse kicked in, and in one rapid motion, he pulled his weapon from his waistband and rushed to the closet and saw a figure trying to emerge from it. He slammed the door shut on the stranger’s arm, which had a .357 attached to it. There was a loud scream. The man was trapped inside the closet with his right arm crushed in the door, as the gun fired wildly in his hand. Guy Tony put more pressure on the door and heard the stranger’s arm snap like a twig, and then another loud scream.

Guy Tony became aware of Munchies reaching into his desk for a weapon, but before Munchies got the draw on him, he fired, striking him in the abdomen and causing him to double over from the sudden shot.

“Ah shit! Fuck!” he cried out, falling back into his chair, holding his wound.

With Munchies out of commission for a moment, Guy Tony focused his attention back to the gunman trapped in the closet. Swiftly, he swung open the closet door, aimed, fired, and the man dropped dead at his feet, a gunshot wound to his head.

“Muthafucka!” Guy Tony looked down at the man sprawled out lifeless at his feet and fired another shot into his head. Breathing hard, he turned his attention back to Munchies with a bitter stare, the smoking gun at his side.

Munchies sat slumped in his chair, looking somewhat disoriented. He looked up at Guy Tony standing over him with the gun trained at his head. He pressed his hand against his bloody wound and coughed, a look of defeat on his chunky face.

“Don’t kill me, man,” he pleaded. “It wasn’t me.”

“Who told you to set me up?” Guy Tony shouted.

“I was just doing what I was told.”

“Who, muthafucka?” Guy screamed, stepping closer, the gun aimed at Munchies’ head.

“It was Apple, man. She’s the one that put the hit out on you. I swear, man. I didn’t wanna do it, but she promised me that if I took you out, my debt with her would be wiped clean.”

Guy Tony couldn’t believe it. For a split moment, he felt like his world didn’t matter anymore. He regretted taking out Supreme to help Apple rise, when Supreme was actually the lesser evil. He felt he had been played one time too many, so now it was war. He vowed to destroy Apple by any means necessary.

“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 fuckin’ bitch!” he cried out to himself. “Oooh, I’ma fuck her up!”

CHAPTER 25


H
ow did he fuck it up?” Apple screamed out. “It was so fuckin’ simple! Kill him and we would be good!”

“Well, Munchies and his boy are dead now. Guy fucked them up real good. He gave Munchies somethin’ for his fat ass to chew on,” the caller said.

“You find this fuckin’ funny?” Apple spat.

“Nah, I’m just sayin’—”

“Just shut the fuck 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.

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