Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick (30 page)

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 cleavage, 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.

Kola had reserved a VIP area, one of six separate lounges, for her more important guests. She sported a beautiful ruby charmeuse slip dress with rhinestone studs and a pair of matching stilettos. And she styled her hair into a well-designed French bun with a few strands falling over her eye, giving her a sophisticated appearance and making her look twice her age.

She sipped on Cristal and mostly kept company with Cross, who paid for the entire event, taking balling to a whole new level. She loved him so much that when she looked into his eyes, it was hard to turn away without a smile. He was her joy, her kingpin that had promised to give her the world, and he was making good on his promise. He presented Kola with a few lavish gifts for her birthday—one being a pair of bezel hoop earrings with diamond drop briolettes that cost him ten stacks. His other gift to her was the black, drop-top BMW 650. Kola loved it all and was having her best birthday ever.

Cross wanted to make his boo happy and get her mind off whatever had been troubling her over the past few months, one being the problem with her sister and mother. He wanted his girl to feel like the queen she was to him. He showered her with gifts and power. Their names rang out simultaneously through the streets of Harlem. They’d bonded and fell in love so fast, Cross even thought about proposing to his young love.

Dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down with a pair of dark wingtip shoes, his bling gleaming and his braids long and fresh, Cross had the eyes of plenty ladies in the crowd, but he only had eyes for one. He moved through VIP with authority, his crew of thugs not too far from him. The couple popped numerous bottles of champagne, danced like they were on
Soul Train
, and did it up like it was the end of 1999.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said to Kola then kissed her deeply.

“Them my niggas right there!” one of Cross’ soldiers shouted out. “Y’all muthafuckin’ clap for them. That’s fuckin’ love right there!”

Among applause, the two kissed passionately for the crowd to see. VIP was the banging spot in the club. It was decorated with a dozen “Happy Birthday” balloons, a string of colorful ribbons, and there was a continuous flow of food and liquor. Scantily clad women swarmed to Cross’ clique and danced provocatively against the men, hiking up their short skirts and grinding on them.

The DJ unexpectedly started to play 50 Cent’s “In Da Club,” and the crowd went berserk. Those seated quickly stood up to join the others on the dance floor. Kola and Cross began to dance together closely, while the crowd started singing along with 50’s raunchy verse.

Champagne was being poured, and it seemed like the music had gotten louder. Not a soul was sitting or hugging the walls. Every foot moved, and every arm swung around with joy. Kola was in the mix of the party, having the time of her life. She was eighteen, but looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She was young in age, but more mature in the mind than anyone could imagine. It was her night, and she was going to celebrate until she couldn’t party anymore.

*****

The dark green Lincoln Navigator with tinted windows slowly moved its way down Third Avenue and then turned on Eleventh Street with a slow crawl before coming to a stop near the club, where so many people were gathered outside. The four doors opened up like it was orchestrated, and Apple and her goons climbed out of the truck, making their way to Cipriani’s.

They pushed through the thick crowd, by-passing the long line, and approached the team of security. Apple went up to the doors, and the main bouncer shook his head in disbelief, thinking he was seeing double. He looked at the twin in awe. They were too identical, from their beauty to their thick curves.

“This my sister Kola’s shit, right?” she asked the bouncer.

“Twins, huh?” the beefy bouncer responded.

“I’m in there,” Apple said.

“She got you on the list?”

Apple gave him a hard look. “What the fuck you think? I’m her twin sister, right?”

The other bouncers looked dumbfounded, but to assure they would grant her entry, Apple handed the man a large stack, leaving him wide-eyed. “That’s all for y’all. Don’t spend it all in one place,” she said with a teasing smile.

The bouncers looked confused, but were easily bribed with a thousand dollars. They unhooked the velvet rope and allowed Apple and her small entourage of scowling goons into the mix of things.

Apple walked through the grand foyer and was greeted with a multiple of doors leading into a clubgoer’s paradise. The lighting, thick crowd, earsplitting music, and décor were fit for the birthday queen. Suddenly, Apple was overcome with jealousy. Her sister outdid herself, she had to admit. Seeing Kola’s name everywhere, in lights, on blocks of ice, and on the LCDs above, made Apple hate on her sister.

“Bitch thinks she’s P. Diddy now,” Apple joked lightly.

Her and her people moved through the jumping crowd, pushing their way toward the bar and catching wrongful looks from a few partygoers they nudged the wrong way. Apple managed to get herself a small VIP section, since she was ready to pay for bottle service.

“Fuck it!” she said to herself. “It’s my fuckin’ birthday too!”

When some of the attendees saw her, they thought she was Kola. They rushed up to her eagerly, shouting out, “Happy birthday, Kola!”

Apple sharply replied, “It’s Apple’s birthday!”

She made it clearly known that she was in the house, with her crew of thugs circled around her, shouting out, “It’s ya birthday! Go, Apple! It’s ya birthday! Fuck that bitch ’cause it’s ya birthday!”

Apple mingled among everyone, wearing a short leather mini-skirt that flaunted her thighs and legs, a tight, tiny, plunging-neckline metallic halter top with a unique o-ring, and a pair of six-inch stilettos. She moved to the music like she was a video vixen. And she and her boys were popping bottles, bumping into people, and causing a small scene with their vulgar antics. Apple’s presence with her goons was an obvious “Fuck you, bitch!” to Kola.

*****

Kola was seated in a lounge chair, feeling the best she had ever felt while talking to one of her friends, when Bunny Rabbit approached her with a sense of urgency. Kola looked up at Bunny Rabbit coming toward her and knew by the look on her face that there was something important she needed to tell her.

Bunny Rabbit leaned over and said into Kola’s ear, “Your sister is here.”

“What?”

“She’s down at the party. Got her own VIP section, and her and her goons are showing out right now, Kola. It looks like it’s about to get ugly.”

Kola was furious. She ultimately felt disrespected that Apple had the audacity to crash her party and show out. She sprung from her seat and looked around for Cross, but she didn’t see him. So she decided to confront her sister and kick the bitch out.

With a small following behind her, Kola stormed out of the room and rushed into the grand ballroom, her people parting the large crowd so she could pass through with ease. She spotted Apple in one of the cushioned sections of the club, where she stood among her goons and a few bitches, with bottles all around. She glared at Apple and was ready to pull out every root from her head. The sisters were soon eye to eye.

“Bitch, what the fuck you doin’ here?” Kola shouted.

Apple smirked. “Enjoying my birthday, that’s what.”

It was clear Apple was a little tipsy and was going to be a problem. She continued dancing on one of the ladies next to her, clutching a bottle of Moët and staring at Kola with a daring look.

“Apple, get the fuck outta my party! I don’t want you here!”

“Bitch, it’s
our
fuckin’ birthday. I see you doin’ it all big and shit. Fuck it! It’s my birthday too!”

It didn’t take long for Cross to hear the news, and he joined Kola, with his crew having his back. The tension between the two sisters and their followers became so thick, security came rushing over. Both sides looked fiercely at each other.

Apple slapped her sister, and Kola responded with a right hook to Apple’s face. And, just as quickly, a melee between both sides erupted. Bottles were smashed against skulls, with swinging fists and kicks flying everywhere. Soon, everyone was forced outside into the streets.

Kola was fuming that Apple had ruined her party. It was supposed to be her night, and she was being dragged outside kicking and screaming by bouncers.

The fight continued outside, with more people getting into the mix. It was starting to become too big for the bouncers to handle themselves.

Apple was holding her own, knocking out a few bitches that were for Kola. She even kicked off her stilettos and fought in the streets barefoot.

Onlookers were shocked at the sudden rumble. Bouncers were soon fighting instead of trying to break things up.

Kola tried to look around for her sister, but she felt herself being pulled away from the chaos. She spun around angrily to see that it was Cross.

“C’mon!” he told her.

That’s when Kola heard the dreadful sound of gunfire.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The crowd began to disperse like roaches after the lights were turned on. Cross pushed his woman down to the ground and covered her from any harm. He looked around to see who was shooting, but the crowd was still too thick to tell. It was pure panic, the pushing and shoving causing a few people to get trampled.

Kola was a little bruised herself. She was in tears, seeing that Apple had ruined her party. When the smoke cleared, Kola was even more shocked to see two of her friends sprawled out dead on the concrete from gunshot wounds, Bunny Rabbit and one of Cross’ soldiers.

CHAPTER 26

N
ews of the shooting at the club had spread in Harlem quickly and was talked about for days, creating high tension between both cliques. When Chico returned from out of town and heard of the incident, he wanted to gun everyone down. Apple was ready for war, and everyone was on high alert. Within months, Apple had created so many enemies in her life, she was on everybody’s official shit list.

Apple sat in the cut, her guns close and loaded for action. Her mother was nagging her about her beef with Kola. They had been arguing all day, and Apple was ready to slap the shit out of her. Apple let it be clearly known that she was in control of everything. She stared at her hip, thirty-seven-year-old, ghetto-fabulous mother bitterly and wondered why she put up with her.