Checkmate: The Baddest Chick (14 page)

“That bitch,” he uttered.

“She’s gonna get got,” Chico said.

“Nah, there was something else about her.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t pinpoint it, homes, but I know that bitch from somewhere,” Two-Face said.

“From where?”

“I’m thinkin’, homes, but I know that face.”

It had been gnawing at Two-Face about knowing Kola’s face from someplace different. He thought about it night and day. Chico didn’t think anything about it, until Two-Face finally remembered where he had seen Kola’s face before.

“Homes, she ain’t look like that when I saw her. She different,” Two-Face explained.

“Different? What the fuck you mean, different? Just say what the fuck you gotta say Two-Face, and don’t fuckin’ sugarcoat it.”

“I mean, me and my
vatos
, we seen that face at a Mexican whorehouse. We ran the train on her something nice, but her face, her face was badly burned in some way, but her body was something nice to play with. I swear to you, homes, that bitch Kola could be her twin because they looked so much alike. You know they say we all got a twin,” Two-Face stated.

Chico was quiet for a moment, taking in everything Two-Face was saying to him. He knew it
had
to be Apple that Two-Face was talking about. There was no mistaking it. But Chico wondered how she ended up in Mexico selling pussy. He looked at Two-Face and asked, “This girl, how long ago was it when you saw her?”

“Don’t know, homes. I go back home like three or four times a year. It was less than six months ago.”

“And you sure this bitch you saw was whoring?”

“I’m positive, homes.”

“And what side of the face was her burn on?”

Two-Face laughed. “I was too busy into that pussy to care about any scars.” He gyrated and thrust his hips jokingly, mimicking his sexual act with the whore. “But why you ask, homes?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all,” Chico stated, impatiently. “But what city was this girl in?”

Two-Face shrugged. He wasn’t sure of the exact location where he saw the girl. He stared at Chico and asked, “Homes, why you asking so many questions about this bitch? Is she important to us?”

Chico didn’t respond. He had a stone-cold look about him. He locked eyes with Two-Face and the look instantly said to Two-Face that he had revealed too much information.

“Why you ask so many details about this one whore, homes? She special to you or something? You know this whore?”

“Nah, I was just asking.”

“But you asking way too many questions.”

“It’s nothing, Two-Face. Just asking you some questions, a’ight! Just fuckin’ dead it!” Chico barked.

“A’ight, homes, I feel you.”

But the tension in the room and the uncomfortable stares put both men on edge with each other. Two-Face wanted to know why a Mexican whore was bringing up questions with Chico.

And Chico figured out that he finally had a line on Apple’s whereabouts, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that it was her. He was determined to find out the truth, though.

****

Several days had passed since Chico and Two-Face talked. It was bothering Chico that there was a strong possibility that Apple was kidnapped and forced to sell pussy in Mexico. It was the only explanation he could come up with.

Chico remembered waiting around at the motel for several days, but she never showed up to collect her things. He remembered the motel room in New Jersey. Apple’s things were still there, but she was gone. He remembered her being upset with him and the trouble she was enduring. She had plenty of enemies, and anyone could have been responsible for her disappearance.

Chico figured Kola and Cross had the means and reason to have Apple kidnapped and suffer a humiliating fate in a different country. It would have been a slow death for Apple—to be stripped away of her dignity and respect. Chico was now determined more than ever to hunt and kill everyone in Kola’s crew, from the bottom up. The war with them became even much more personal.

It was after midnight when Chico parked his truck near an open area not too far from the shimmering lights coming from the long, soaring G.W. Bridge. He sat alone in the driver’s seat, a .50-cal. concealed underneath, and waited while smoking a Newport. He listened to nothing but silence around him. There was no radio playing or loud traffic anywhere around him. The area was isolated, shaded with many trees and shrubbery all around.

An hour later, a car began pulling up slowly. Chico glanced at the approaching headlights and knew it was the person he was waiting for. He wanted the meeting in private, so he came alone. He didn’t feel threatened by the car’s approach. The single occupant in the burgundy Cadillac CTS was well known to Chico and vice versa. They had done business with each other before.

The CTS came to a stop near Chico’s truck. The headlights shut off, and the door to the Cadillac opened slowly. Chico took one last pull from his cancer stick and tossed it out the window, and then he proceeded to step out of his vehicle.

The man approaching Chico was tall, six three, with a trimmed goatee. He was dressed nicely in a charcoal three-piece suit and sported a pair of wingtip shoes. He wore an expensive Cartier watch and wore shades even though it was night. He looked cool, but also menacing with his mysterious demeanor.

Chico walked closer to him. Both men were expressionless. Chico was familiar with his style of work. He was expensive, but always worth the pay. Chico somewhat trusted him, and only used the man’s services when there was no one else to do the job correctly.

“It’s been a long time, Chico,” the man spoke, his voice raspy and deep.

“I know. But I have a job for you, Dario.”

Dario nodded.

“I need someone wit’ ya skills in tracking and hunting. I need someone found ASAP.”

“My fee will be the same,” Dario stated. “Twenty-five thousand plus expenses.”

Chico nodded.

“Who is it that you need found?”

“A girl, and last I heard, she might be in Mexico whoring.”

“Rough place. You have her picture?”

Chico reached into his jacket and handed Dario a small photo of Apple, before the damage to her face.

“Pretty girl.”

“She’s scarred, carries a burn on the side of her face, and she’s young.”

Dario stared at the photo, taking in Apple’s features.

“I need her found.”

“I will. And when she’s found, you want her to disappear silently or harsh?” Dario asked, gravity in his voice.

“No. I need her brought back to New York. I need her alive.”

Dario nodded.

Chico then tossed Dario a sealed, lumpy white envelope filled with cash. Dario caught it in his grip.

“That’s fifteen thousand in there. You get the rest when she’s back in New York.”

Dario nodded. “I’m on it.”

Business was done, and Chico walked back to his truck.

Dario went through the green bills in his hands and was satisfied. Chico always paid him well, even though he rarely used his services. Dario was a former CIA agent. He had been with the CIA for fifteen years until he went rogue and became a mercenary for hire. Dario knew how to hunt and track people globally. He had an expert network system of computers and toys, had connects in every region of the globe, and was a skilled killer.

Chico last used his services several years ago when trying to locate a snitch that fled New York and went into hiding. The snitch turned state’s witness against Chico and his crew, and was willing to testify in court. His testimony was about to propel Chico into a life sentence in prison or the death penalty. The DA had moved the snitch out of New York for his protection, but Dario found him in less than two weeks and dealt with the problem accordingly—Two shots to his head and dismemberment, with pieces of him dumped miles apart, in eight different states. Chico was acquitted of all charges.

Dario watched Chico pull off and was ready to implement his tracking technique right away. He got on his cell phone and booked the next flight into Mexico and would start his search from the border.

CHAPTER 12

I
t had been two weeks since Shaun took the newborn baby from Apple. Apple had dried her tears, but her heart was still torn from the sudden removal of her baby. In fact, Apple sunk into a quick depression. She’d never thought about having any kids, but when she gave birth to a girl, she instantly had a connection with her daughter, even though it was short-lived.

“Peaches,” Apple would whisper. “Peaches. Peaches.”

Apple thought about her daughter day and night. Mary was there for her, and a few Mexican whores began to feel sorry for what was happening to her. They started coming around and taking better care of her when Shaun wasn’t around. They soon started to see Apple as one of their own. They brought Apple extra food to help get her strength back and gave her prescription antibiotics to help ward off any infections. Gradually, the girls were becoming a family to Apple.

Mary would always talk to Apple, telling stories of her past, about her family. She even talked about men to Apple, tricks that she’d fucked or that had fucked her.

“Some were nice, and some were assholes. Coldhearted bastards,” Mary said. “Sometimes, they would do these cruel things to me when I was only so young, and it would hurt so bad. I would drown myself in my own tears night after night, praying for it to stop. But it never did, and soon you just get used to it.”

Apple was listening, but she was silent. Mary became her unexpected comfort, like a fluffy pillow to a tired head at nights. Mary became like a grandmother to Apple and a few whores in the place. She had wisdom and had experienced so many tragic incidents in her lifetime. She was able to relate with many of the girls’ stories, not just Apple’s.

Mary reminded Apple of the pain she felt when her first newborn child was ripped away from her and sold. “There were many pregnancies, and many painful tears that followed behind seeing my children carried out of my life,” she said sadly.

“I can’t go through this anymore,” Apple said.

Mary took Apple’s hand gently. Mary already knew the truth; it wouldn’t be Apple’s last pregnancy. There would be more heartbreaks and hard, stained tears to follow. “It is our life now,” Mary said.

“It’s not mine!” Apple spat. “I can’t live here anymore. I can’t do this, Mary. I hate that muthafucka! I hate him so much, that—”Apple stopped her final words, her mind suddenly slipping into a dark place.

“What you plan to do? Escape?”

“I need to do something.”

“He will then hunt you down and find you. Shaun has power and connections everywhere, and you are a marked woman and far away from home.”

“This will never be my home!”

“You still believe that this man will find you, huh?”

“Chico will come for me, Mary. I know he will. And when he do, I will make that muthafucka pay dearly for what he’s done to me.”

Mary started to reply, but she began to let out an aggressive cough. She hooked over with her hand to her mouth and continued to cough. It was bad. The cancer was eating away at her.

“You OK, Mary?” Apple asked with concern.

Mary nodded. She coughed harshly a few more times, and then there was blood spewing from her mouth.

“Oh my God!”

Mary reached for something to wipe away the blood. “I’m fine, Apple.”

Apple stared at her with much concern. She knew Mary was dying. And with no proper medication to take and Mary not visiting a hospital or seeking treatment for her condition not once, the disease was becoming more aggressive inside of her.

The coughing soon subsided, and Mary was back to her old self again, talking to Apple like nothing had happened.

“This place done drained me, Apple, physically and mentally,” Mary said.

“It ain’t gonna drain me, Mary.”

Mary respected the fight in Apple. She was once like that, but after years of neglect and abuse, she had given up hope.

The two women talked for an hour. It gave Apple some comfort. Mary made her smile a few times, and then their session was interrupted by Mary’s deathly and recurring coughing. Mary had to excuse herself and rush toward the bathroom. Apple just sat there with a worried gaze about her friend.

****

Apple awoke naked and hungry. She didn’t know what day of the week it was. The past couple days she was doped up on drugs and unaware of her surroundings. She hadn’t turned a trick since she’d given birth, but Shaun was ready to put that to an end.

She got out of bed and exited the room. The hallway was starting to fill with awakened whores coming out of their rooms to get ready for the day and a few tricks that lingered overnight. The scantily clad women laughed and talked for a moment. But Apple had to go pee. She felt her high fading. The dope was dissipating from her system, and she was becoming conscious of her surroundings.

Shaun was nowhere around, and Apple was relieved. She stumbled toward the bathroom and rushed to the stall to pee. She squatted over the dirty toilet and sighed as she drained her unwanted fluids. After her talk with Mary last night, she felt a little better, but she was still suffering from some depression.