Checkmate: The Baddest Chick (2 page)

The young kid on top of her was vibrant and rough. But he was quick. He came in a matter of minutes, jumped off Apple, and quickly allowed the next in line to have his turn.

The young gang members treated her more like she was a toilet, than a teenage girl being held against her will.

CHAPTER 1

K
ola sat in the bedroom of her plush home clad in a flirtatious pink baby doll chemise trimmed with a delicate sequined Venice appliqué. She was giving herself a pedicure to the sounds of Maxwell, but even his soothing words couldn’t erase the troubles in her head. Her mind couldn’t escape Cross and his infidelity. Then there was trying to cope with him having a newborn son.

Then she had Edge on her mind. She knew she had to watch her back with that snake.

Then there was Eduardo. The sexual tension between the two of them was undeniable. Kola knew it wasn’t good to mix business with pleasure, but it was one pleasure she thought about constantly. Eduardo was so tempting, just the thought of him had her pussy dripping wet with passion.

Business was good for Kola. Her product was profitable, her name was buzzing in the streets, and her team was strong. Candace was fierce when it came to the streets, and her murder game was on point. Candace proved that women could kill and be as ruthless as any man.

But Kola’s love life was in shambles. She didn’t want anything to do with Cross at the moment. His betrayal had really hurt her. One thought of that bitch Cynthia and her son by Cross would have her shedding tears, and she’d never cried over any man.

Cross had gotten word about what had transpired between Kola and Cynthia, and it sent him into a small panic. His two worlds had now collided in a violent way. He tried to figure out how Kola had found out about his Brooklyn chick. Who could have told? But he figured, since he still took care of her, it would be a small issue that would resolve itself in a few days.

He wanted to get back to business. Money needed to be made. He felt that Kola was acting childish. His rationalization was, “So what, I fucked her? It was just pussy, but I love you, Kola. It ain’t gotta change what we do. We a team, baby.”

But weeks had passed, and Kola wasn’t budging.

Cross had arrived home one day to find all the locks had been changed. He rang the bell continuously, but to no avail.

“Kola, what the fuck is wrong wit’ you? Are you stupid? Why the fuck you changing the locks?”

Kola rejected his calls and left him standing outside his lavish home to ponder on his regret for cheating on her. Cross soon got the hint. He left, feeling Kola needed more time to cool down and collect herself.

Kola nodded to her favorite tracks by Trey Songz, who had replaced Maxwell in the CD changer. She planned on meeting up with Candace and her girls.

As Kola continued to paint her nails, the doorbell sounded. She stopped what she was doing for the moment and scurried downstairs toward the front door. She glanced out the window, only to notice a flower truck parked outside.

“Who?” she shouted.

“I have a delivery for a Kola,” the man said.

“From who, or where?”

“Um, from a Cross.”

Kola sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. She didn’t want anything from Cross, but the deliveryman was adamant.

“Ma’am, I have over two dozen roses and flowers that need to be dropped off,” the deliveryman stated. “They’re already paid for, and I can’t take them back with me.”

“Just leave them out there and go,” she replied sharply.

The man shrugged and did what he was told. He left the assortment of flowers and roses outside her door and drove away.

Kola opened her front door soon after his departure and stared at the flowers. “What, is he crazy?”

Cross had purchased everything from lilies, tulips, daisies, and sunflowers, with two-dozen roses. Kola was never big on flowers, but she had to admit, the arrangement and delivery was nice. The idyllic moment was temporary, though, because soon after, she had a nearby lawn worker toss everything on the street for the trash to pick up. Kola didn’t have time for bullshit. She had work to do and a business to run. Cross needed to learn that she wasn’t the bitch to be played with or manipulated.

Kola slammed her front door and went back upstairs to her bedroom to get herself ready. Kola got dressed in a pair of tight, shimmering gold pants that accentuated her curvy figure, a stylish halter-top, and a pair of chic heels. She looked stunning, with her long, silky hair reaching down her back. Kola put the right touches on her face with makeup, exited her home, and jumped into her pearl-white convertible Benz with the vertical doors and bright red interior.

She sped out of her driveway on her way to meet up with Candace and her ruthless crew of girls. She placed a Lil Wayne CD in the stereo and began jamming to “Lollipop.”

****

It was a quarter to midnight when Kola pulled up to The Red Spot, a vibrant and popular club on the West Side of Manhattan. She stepped out of her Benz looking like a superstar and passed her keys to the valet attendant.

The Red Spot was a plush, high-end, all-in-one chic spot near the West Side Highway. It was a dance club, restaurant, pool hall, and had an indoor smoking lounge with polished décor. Celebrities, music moguls, and the city’s elite frequented the club, and Kola was a regular. It was one of the places she did her business; extracting clientele for her parties and services. She was subtle with her business, passing out her cards and whispering in ears about her events. But mostly, she was profiling the males, and even a few females, in the club.

Kola strutted toward the entrance like the boss bitch she was. She was instantly recognized by the security and bouncers, and was able to bypass the long wait to get inside and escape the cover charge.

A beefy bouncer greeted her with a warm smile. “Hey, Kola.”

“Hey, Bobby,” she replied.

The velvet rope was unlatched, and Kola entered the 10,000-square-foot space, where the caramel hues and warm earth tones dressed the interior, and the dimly lit chandeliers set off a sensual vibe.

The DJ had Rick Ross blaring throughout the club, and the place was alive and jumping with partygoers, drinking, and beautiful women.

Kola didn’t care for the party. She had to meet with Candace and her girls, who were also regulars at the club, and had connections with the owner.

She moved through the large crowd and headed toward the VIP area. She received stares from men and women as she passed. Her beauty and style were captivating, and her presence was intimidating. She didn’t smile or pay the attention any mind. They weren’t worth her time.

Kola reached the stairway that went up to the glass-enclosed smoking lounge, for VIP guests only, and two strapping male bouncers made sure only the elite passed through.

Both bouncers acknowledged her as she approached, smiling and stepping to the side, allowing her up the stairway and into the room. But they quickly turned their heads, admiring her plump backside as she walked up the stairs.

“Damn, that’s nice!” one of the men said.

Kola entered the glass-enclosed lounge and was right away greeted by the manager of the club, Pablo, a short, round, Dominican man, with bronze skin and thinning black hair. He was sharply dressed in a grey pinstripe suit and a gold Rolex.

“Kola, it’s good to see you,” he greeted joyfully.

“Hey, Pablo.”

“Candace is already in the office. They’re waiting for you.”

She nodded.

Pablo allowed the girls to conduct business in his establishment. He was always paranoid about being watched or indicted. He had cameras watching every angle of his club. He always swept his place for bugs on the daily, so it was hard for any law enforcement to wiretap his club or office. And he screened his employees thoroughly, via his brother having a background in computers and knowing how to hack into any secure account. If someone was fraudulent, then Pablo’s brother, Joseph, had the means to find out.

It was always business with Pablo and Kola. He was a regular at Kola’s sex parties, and Pablo showed her the same hospitality at The Red Spot that she’d always shown him. She was always on the list, and always invited into VIP.

Kola nodded and walked toward the backroom, where the main office was located. Beyond that was the balcony area with a phenomenal view overlooking the West Side Highway and Hudson River.

Kola entered Pablo’s office to find Candace and Patrice seated in one of the swanky chairs, laughing and drinking martinis.

Meeting at Pablo’s club made it look like they were a trio of ladies only out to have a good time, in case cops or the feds were watching. Both Candace and Patrice were dressed seductively in tight, leather skirts that exposed their thick thighs, revealing tops, and six-inch wedge heels. Candace and Patrice may have looked like promiscuous, partying chicks, but they were skilled killers on Kola’s payroll—and their portfolio was displayed throughout the streets of New York.

“Look at y’all bitches,” Kola greeted with a smile.

“We waitin’ for you, boss lady,” Candace said.

The ladies hugged each other, and it was all smiles, but Kola wanted to shift things to important business. She had a lot of things to discuss with her top enforcer, Candace.

“What you drinking?” Kola asked Candace.

“One strong martini.”

“I’ll take one too.” Kola walked over to Pablo’s private assistant and asked her to get her the same thing that her girls were drinking.

The young woman nodded and rushed to fulfill her order.

It didn’t take long for Kola to get her drink. Any orders coming from the VIP section or Pablo’s office were handled ASAP. She served Kola her martini and exited the room so the girls could talk business in private.

“Come, let’s talk on the balcony. The air and view is better out there,” Kola said.

Candace and Patrice followed behind Kola. Kola slid the glass sliding door shut, peered around, and took a few sips from her martini.

“What you need to talk about, Kola?” Candace asked.

Kola didn’t respond right away. She walked toward the edge of the balcony and peered over. They were only two stories up, but it was a steep fall. Kola took a sip from her martini, stared at the New Jersey skyline for a moment, and then turned to lock eyes with her girl.

“Some muthafuckas don’t have an ounce of respect for us, just because we bitches. I mean, look at us. We got shit on lock. But these haters, they ain’t gonna never learn that what any man can do, a fuckin’ woman can do twice as good.”

“I hear that,” Patrice chimed with a smile.

“But check this,” Kola continued. “We gonna prove these bitch-ass niggas wrong, starting with Edge.”

“He always been hating on you, Kola. It’s about time you made something happen to his triflin’ ass. I’m ready to put in work on that nigga,” Candace said.

“You will, baby girl. You will. His jealousy of me is starting to rage out of control, and I ain’t giving him any more free passes just because he’s Cross’ right-hand man. I’m sick of his shit!”

“When you want it to go down?” Candace asked.

“Soon.”

Candace nodded.

“I got a lot of shit to prove, y’all feel me?”

“Hells yeah,” Patrice and Candace said simultaneously.

“But what about Cross? He’s still in the picture or what?” Patrice asked.

Kola was silent for a moment, hesitating to answer. She thought about Cross. She still loved him, but love and emotions for any man was a problem when it came to handling her business. Cross had fucked up. He had a gun charge hanging over his head, and a snake friend in his corner that he failed to recognize. Kola felt that Cross was slipping, and she didn’t need his mistakes interfering with her business. She already had his connect, and her name was starting to ring out more than his. In the streets everyone had heard of
Cocà Kola
—the name given to her by the Columbians because she was moving so much weight. In her mind, she didn’t need a man for shit.

She wanted to make Cross pay for his infidelity. He had a son with some Brooklyn bitch, and Kola disapproved of it. Kola felt that she was too fine and good of a woman to be cheated on. It would be Cross’ loss, not hers.

“You know, with Edge out the way, then Cross would have to fall solo on that gun charge,” Kola stated.

Candace nodded.

Kola continued with, “Cross fucked up. He’s lucky that a short bid is all he’s gonna get for fuckin’ cheating on me.”

Patrice took another sip of her Martini. “If you ask me, a couple years away in a State pen is hardly payback. Shit, that’s a mini vacation.”

Kola shrugged. She knew she wasn’t going hard on Cross and she knew why. She still loved him despite the betrayal. Her mind said to dead him, but her heart said no. She spoke, “Patrice, that’s the plan for now. But like the weather, shit could change.”

The girls stood under the canopy of night and towering buildings, excited about their future.

Kola raised her glass in the air for a toast. Patrice and Candace followed, and then Kola said, “This is our time . . . our fuckin’ moment, and ain’t no muthafucka taking it away from us. Here’s to makin’ paper hand over fist!”