Checkmate: The Baddest Chick (5 page)

“What the fuck you implying, Edge?” Cross said through clenched teeth.

“Nigga, do I gotta spell it out for you—She fuckin’ that nigga!”

Cross remained quiet and calm for a brief moment, but the rage was bubbling inside of him. Just the thought of Eduardo betraying him and fucking the woman he loved was eating him up inside. Cross knew Edge had some good points, but he didn’t want to admit it. It had been a passing thought of his the past few weeks. He wanted to deny it, but the truth was in his face.

Abruptly, Cross shouted, “I’ma kill that muthafucka!” and violently tossed the bottle he had been nursing in his hand across the room, shattering it against a wall and catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Just chill, Cross,” Edge said.

“Fuck that! If Eduardo wants a war, I’ll give him a fuckin’ war!”

“Nigga, why not just rob that muthafucka and then kill him? Do it right. You know he gotta be sittin’ on a few hundred ki’s and a lump sum of cash in that spot.”

Cross nodded.

A bouncer walked over to their table with a stern look. He focused on Edge and Cross, towering over them with his bulging muscles. “Is everything OK over here?”

“Yeah, we good, big man,” Edge said. “It ain’t no problem. My dude just had to let off some steam, that’s all.”

“Well, next time, tell him to take that shit outside, not in here.”

“A’ight,” Edge said.

Cross glared at the bouncer and felt like cutting him down with gunfire. But he had other matters to take care of.

Edge continued with, “I’m sayin’, we gotta make this shit happen fast, my nigga. They might be making a move on us. We don’t know that. But shit ain’t right, Cross.”

“I feel you.”

Edge wanted payback for so many things. He was still salty about Kola’s constant rejections. And, like Cross, the thought of her fucking Eduardo and not him was one he couldn’t deal with.

But Cross had to be officially done with Kola for Edge to take his leftovers. Edge didn’t want any repercussions coming his way. His plan was simple. Kill two birds with one stone—Set up Kola and Eduardo. It seemed to be easy pickings.

Both men tried coming up with the perfect plan to rob and kill Eduardo while they sat and continued to drink. Cross had it in his heart to do the unthinkable. Even though Eduardo was an international kingpin, Cross felt that he had crossed the line and disrespected him, when it came to messing around with his heart. Love had Cross thinking insanely.

The men exited the strip club at two in the morning, both slightly tipsy. Edge held his car keys in his hand and looked for his truck.

“What you about to do, Cross?”

“I need to go see my son and hit his moms off with a couple stacks.”

“Yo, you go do that, and holla at me tomorrow. But we gonna do this. We gonna take care of this problem. But, you know, we might have to take out Kola too. If she fuckin’ around wit’ this nigga, then she can’t be trusted.”

“I need accurate proof.”

“And we’ll get it.” Edge smiled.

The two men gave each other dap and went their separate ways.

Cross got into his dark-colored Lexus and sped to Brooklyn in the late hours of the night. It had been weeks since he’d last seen his son. He pulled up and parked his Lexus in front of the project building on Myrtle Avenue. It was almost three in the morning when he stepped out of the car and walked toward Cynthia’s building.

Cynthia was still traumatized from the beat-down she’d received from Kola and Candace. Her wounds had healed, but her heart was still torn. Cynthia was more upset to find out that she wasn’t the only woman in Cross’ life. She tried ignoring him, and refused to see him or accept any of his phone calls. But Cross was relentless, always calling or stopping by unexpectedly. Cynthia was ready to move on, but for the past two years, the only man she knew was Cross.

Cynthia’s sister vowed revenge on Kola and Candace. Her family was enraged when they found out about the home invasion and pistol-whipping. They wanted to see justice done, either via courts or in the streets. They held Cross accountable for what had happened to Cynthia, and the three days she had spent in the hospital.

When the detectives came to question Cynthia, she refused to snitch, with some persuasion from Cross, who had promised to take care of the situation and make things right by her. Cynthia and her family were still waiting on that promise. They wanted Kola and Candace badly, but Cross warned Cynthia and her family that the two ladies were nothing nice and not to be messed with.

Cross rushed into the project building and took the stairs to the fourth floor. The building was quiet. People were asleep. But he was ready to change all of that. He entered the hallway and went straight to Cynthia’s door. Like Kola, she also had changed her locks, and it infuriated Cross. He wanted to see Cynthia and his son. And he refused to leave until he got what he wanted.

He began banging on the door, shouting, “Cynthia, open the fuckin’ door! Cynthia!” The banging went on for a minute.

“Go away! I don’t wanna see you!”

“I wanna see him. I wanna see my son. Please.”

“No, Cross. I hate you! I fuckin’ hate you!”

“Baby, open the door, please. It’s been weeks. I just wanna talk. I just wanna see you and make things right. I promise.”

“You’re always making me promises. I’m tired, Cross, I’m tired,” Cynthia cried out.

“I’m not fuckin’ leaving here until you open this door and I get to see my son. Don’t have me knock this muthafucka down!”

“He’s not here. He’s with my sister in Queens.”

“Then open the door, and let’s talk. Please, baby, I need you right now. I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere.

“You played me, Cross. You played me.”

“I just wanna talk!”

Cross began banging on the apartment door aggressively, waking up a few neighbors. He was making Cynthia very nervous. She knew he wouldn’t leave unless he got to see her.

“Cynthia, just give me a minute with you face to face. That’s all I’m asking right now.”

Cynthia was quiet, thinking about it. She sighed. “Five minutes, Cross,” she said.

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Cynthia began turning the locks and slowly opened the door. She was nervous. But she still loved him. She stood before him in a long, blue T-shirt that she always wore to bed, and a pair of slippers. Her hair was wrapped up under a yellow scarf, and the bruises she suffered from the assault were becoming less visible.

She peered at what seemed to be a distraught Cross standing in the hallway clad in a wrinkled T-shirt and jeans, his gleaming long chain and diamond pendant dangling.

“What you want from me, Cross?”

Cross rushed into the apartment and grabbed Cynthia in his arms and began hugging her. “I need you, baby. I fuckin’ need you right now.”

Cynthia pushed him off. “Now you fuckin’ need me? Your crazy side bitch and her friend jump me, and you don’t do shit. And, come to find out, you got that bitch living the good life in some mansion upstate somewhere, while you got the mother of your son and your son living in the fuckin’ projects and you fuckin’ need me! Nigga, is you fuckin’ serious?”

The tears began trickling down Cynthia’s face as she stared at Cross. She put some distance between them in the living room.

Cross stood there for a moment, looking speechless, but then rebutted with, “I told you, I’m gonna take care of it. You definitely got my word on it, baby.”

“How?” Cynthia demanded to know.

“That bitch is dead to me right now, you hear me? Right now, it’s only you and my son that matter to me. Nobody else.”

“But she’s still gonna be in the picture, right?”

“Not for too long.”

“What you mean?” Cynthia said, confused. She wanted to hear him say that he had cut Kola out of his life for good. No ambiguities or ominous statements.

Cross walked up to her. His vulnerable demeanor had suddenly disappeared, and he focused on Cynthia like a lion on its prey.

Cynthia noticed the change and took a few steps back, nearing the window.

“It’s just you and me, Cynthia. You don’t need to know the details about that. You ain’t gotta worry about her for too long.”

Cynthia quickly read into what he was saying, and straightaway Cross felt like he’d said too much. He approached Cynthia with conviction. They locked eyes. Cross suddenly grabbed her into his arms again, this time with more passion and strength. He embraced her tightly, feeling the softness of her petite figure.

Cynthia gasped. “Cross!”

“I miss you, baby.”

Cross pressed his lips against hers. He had her pinned against the wall. He then slid his hands underneath her T-shirt and began feeling on her booty. He fondled every inch of Cynthia, whose body seemed to go in a sudden trance from his touch.

“Cross, I can’t,” she said feebly.

Cross pulled up her T-shirt, exposing her tight, lace pink panties, and dug his hand inside her front, feeling on her shaved pussy and wet lips.

Cynthia moaned, feeling the tip of Cross’ fingers digging into her cookie jar, her lips trembling and her body yearning. She didn’t understand it. One minute he was at her door screaming and yelling about seeing her and his son, and she was reluctant to let him inside. But somehow, Cross talked his way into her apartment, and then into her panties. He had such a hold over her; it was almost pathetic.

Slowly, the panties came down, and the T-shirt she wore to bed came off and was tossed across the room. Cynthia found herself up against the living room wall in his grip, her legs straddled around Cross, his jeans lying around his ankles.

Cynthia suddenly felt a hard thrust.

“Ugh! Shit!” she panted in his ear, as he moved between her raised legs.

Cynthia’s body lit up with pleasure as Cross kissed the side of her neck and fucked her passionately. His deep strokes lingered inside of her like a lasting thunderstorm. He cupped her breasts with his fist, and her thighs vibrated against him. Cynthia’s nipples were hard like pebbles, the heat building up inside of her. She could feel her juices leaking out and running down her legs.

Cross quickly switched positions and suddenly had Cynthia on her back against the thick carpet, cooing beneath him.

Cynthia showed her strength, her arms and legs tightened in a grip around him as she felt the deep penetration, her pussy pulsating nonstop around his thick size.

When they were done, Cynthia lay next to her baby’s father looking spent. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath, and asked herself,
What happened?

Cross, sweaty and looking exhausted, leaned over onto his side, gazed at Cynthia’s naked figure. “I’m moving in wit’ you, baby. I need to lay low here for a while and think about things. And I need to see my son.”

Cynthia didn’t respond to Cross’ statement. She continued to look away from him, and the tears started to trickle down her face slowly. She was still in love with him. But how long could she live like this? Her sisters wanted her to leave Cross alone. They felt he was too dangerous to be around her and her son, especially after the incident with Kola and Candace.

Cynthia wanted Cross to be a father to his son, but the risk with him in the streets and warring with a rival crew always had her on edge. But she allowed him to move in with her because she loved him.

He thought it was because he was already paying the rent.

CHAPTER 4

A
pple floated her face over the dirty toilet for the umpteenth time in one day. Constantly nauseated, she was throwing up chunks in the toilet. She had stomach cramps and was getting headaches on the regular. Between turning tricks and being drugged up on dope, she didn’t know what was going on with her body. Sometimes, she would go for days without eating, or go for long periods of time without sleep.

There were moments when she would be sick while a trick was on top of her doing his business. She would have the urge to throw up, and a few times, unable to hold the sickness in, she had thrown up on a few of her dates. This ended up upsetting the client and made Shaun to go into a rage. The clients would demand their money back, and Shaun would only give them half, since they didn’t finish but still got half the pleasure. When the men left, Shaun would unleash his wrath on Apple, berating her and sometimes becoming physical.

Apple’s sickness went on for weeks, but none of the whores or Shaun paid her any attention. Some of the whores even thought she was faking illness to stop from turning tricks or to get sympathy.

When she threw up on her tenth date within the month, Shaun screamed out, “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you? Are you fuckin’ retarded? I’m losing money because of you!”

Apple sat there naked, cleaning the puke from her face and looking sorry for herself. She was sore and feeling nauseous again. She just realized she had stopped menstruating months ago.

Mary was in the room during Shaun’s outburst. She looked at Shaun and blurted out, “I think she’s pregnant.”

Shaun stood there looking dumbfounded. “What the fuck you say?”