Chapter 10

Kola was doing seventy miles per hour headed north on the Major Deegan Expressway, on her way to Yonkers to meet with Candace and her girls at one of the stash houses. It had been a moment since her meeting with Eduardo, and she was still puzzled by the phone call she’d received from him. It didn’t make sense to her and disturbed her more than she wanted to admit.

Kola needed to re-up soon with Eduardo and figured he was probably upset because she didn’t give him any pussy. She knew how bad he craved her, and their sexual cat-and-mouse game was becoming somewhat tedious. So she decided that the next time they met, she would give him some, knowing that sex with him would be truly worth it and would strengthen their relationship.

It was almost midnight when she got the phone call from her mother. She was hesitant to answer the call, but took it anyway. “What the fuck you want?”

“I want that muthafucka dead, Kola!” Denise shouted.

“What the fuck you talkin’ about!”

“Chico. You need to take care of him, Kola! He did something to Apple.”

Kola wasn’t in the mood to hear from her mother or about Apple. She hadn’t heard from her sister in months, and she didn’t care. Apple had been nothing but a headache for her and the sole reason Nichols was dead. The less she heard from her, the better. And she felt that the hood was better off without her around. For her it was out of sight, out of mind.

Denise continued to rant about the false run-in. “You need to fuck him up, Kola. Get some niggas to do that muthafucka! That muthafucka threatened me. He put his fuckin’ hands on me, Kola. He disrespected this family. You hear me, Kola? He needs to fuckin’ go! I’m your fuckin’ mother!”

Kola couldn’t care less about what her mother had to say, but she was right about one thing—Chico had to go. He had been a thorn in Kola’s side for too long. Chico was in her way with business, and he was starting to spread like a virus. And she had been hearing the name Two-Face on the streets plenty of times. The young killer’s name was starting to give her a headache, and he was becoming more of a nuisance. She knew he was helping Chico try and take over what Kola considered to be her town. Harlem. They were laying down niggas like Dominos, and from what Kola could see, Cross and Edge weren’t doing shit.

Kola got tired of hearing her mother’s ranting about Chico and Apple on the phone and just hung up the call. “Fuck that stupid bitch!”

Kola needed to relax, but her mind was spinning with so many problems as she approached Yonkers. One being Edge. The contempt that Kola had for him showed clearly. She couldn’t even be around him without biting down on her lip and wanting to kill him. There were a few disputes between them, but Cross had broken it up and was always defending Edge. And she was getting sick and tired of it. Edge was putting a strain on their business. She didn’t trust him, and felt that Edge and Cross were plotting against her.

The only place that Kola found trust was with Candace and her ruthless crew of bitches. They were ready to ride or die for Kola, and Kola had much respect for them. She felt that they needed to make the first move on Edge, and if Cross was stupid enough to follow him, then she was ready to put down her ex-lover too. Things were changing, and Kola knew that she had the upper hand. She had Eduardo—she had the drug connect— she had reputation, and power. And she had muscle, with Candace.

Kola arrived at the stash house in Yonkers. She had her operation set up in many places, but the place in Yonkers was her main location. It was secure and discreet and away from the city, and not too many people knew about the four-bedroom home. Kola wanted to expand and move her business into Yonkers, and she planned on doing it slowly. She already had her hands full in Harlem.

She parked in front of the three-story, Victorian-style, four-bedroom home with the wraparound porch, small chain fence, and dying, brown grass out front. Two security cameras watched the front. She stepped out of her Benz and strutted toward the front entrance. She was already caught on the security cameras and was buzzed into the place by Candace before she walked to the door.

The home was sparsely furnished with hardwood floors stretching out from room to room and the windows blacked out with dark curtains and rusted, old folding furniture. In the back room was where the action took place.

Kola strutted through the house and walked into the den area, where there was a few ki’s of cocaine displayed alongside a few guns and assault rifles. The girls were heavily armed and ready for anything that came their way. They had a counting machine and security monitor mounted on the wall that showed all four corners of the house. Kola and Candace didn’t want any surprises. Yonkers was a high-risk area with crime, but the girls came and went discreetly, not wanting to attract attention of their neighbors.

Kola greeted her crew and looked around. “What we got?”

“We about to run low and gonna need a re-up soon,” Candace said. “You spoke to your connect?”

“I haven’t been able to get him on the phone yet,” Kola said. “But he always comes through.”

Kola didn’t want to worry about why she wasn’t able to reach Eduardo. She understood that he was a busy man, but she had been trying to call him for a week and was unsuccessful in reaching him. His primary number had been disconnected, but she tried other numbers that she was able to reach him by, but they were all going straight to voice mail.

“We gonna need to re-up soon, Kola. I mean, this shit pretty much sells itself, and out here, they loving it,” Candace said.

“I’ll get at him soon.”

“We got a problem though,” Candace stated.

“I told you, don’t worry about my connect. He always comes through.”

“It’s not that, Kola.”

“What is it then?”

“We got hit last night,” Candace said.

“What the fuck you mean?”

“Our spot in Harlem, the apartment . . . it got shot up, and we got taken for fifty stacks. And we lost two of ours.”

“And I’m just now hearing about this shit?” Kola barked.

“I tried to reach you, but I kept getting your voice mail.”

“By who?”

Candace looked reluctant to say the name responsible because he had been a new problem for Kola for too long. “That kid, Two-Face.”

“How the fuck did he know where to hit us?” she barked.

“People are talking and running scared of that little Mexican!”

“Fuck me!” Kola shouted and knocked over a nearby lamp, shattering it against the floor. “I don’t need this shit right now, Candace.”

The other girls just stood around silently, but kept at their work, producing cocaine into crack or counting money.

Kola was seething. She had to step into action and take care of a growing problem. Chico was already a headache, but the constant ringing of the name Two-Face in her head had her ready to go out there and go gunning for the kid on her own. She’d had enough of Two-Face and Chico.

“He hunt us, then we can hunt him too,” Candace said. “We can put that fuckin’ puta into the dirt and spit on him.”

Kola looked at her right-hand with a deadpan expression. The war was costing her money, time, and soldiers. She felt that her back was against the wall, because not only did she have enemies in the streets, but close men were plotting for her downfall in her own organization.

Kola sighed. The frustration was starting to show on her face. She walked over to the table that was cluttered with handguns and picked up a chrome 9 mm Beretta. She removed the clip, checked the ammo, and nodded. She took the gun and stuffed it into her purse. “I’ll handle it,” was the only thing she said to Candace before leaving the Yonkers stash house.

Candace shrugged at Kola’s unorthodox reply and continued with her business in the home. Money never stopped.

Kola got into her convertible Benz and sped back into the city.

****

New York City was buzzing with nightly activity as Kola cruised through the city with the top to her Benz down and feeling the warm breeze blow through. From block to block, the streets were flooded with ladies in tight skirts, jeans, and tight-fitting dresses, strutting in their high heels and revealing club outfits, and the men dressed in their best attire to impress the ladies about.

The balmy night was the perfect night for driving, and Kola needed to clear her head and think about her next chess move. She tried endlessly to reach Eduardo, but to no avail. She didn’t want to panic, but without Eduardo, then her grind on the streets would soon come to a stop. Kola was ready to drive to New Jersey and make a personal trip to his penthouse suite unannounced.

It was well into the early hours of the morning when Kola found herself driving uptown, past the Apollo Theater on 125th Street and making a right onto Eighth Avenue/Frederick Douglass Boulevard.

Kola was ready to drive back to her Yonkers stash house and talk to Candace. She hated that she left the place abruptly, but she was upset, and for once, she didn’t know what to do. Now, she was ready to put as many guns out on the streets and have them be on a constant hunt for Chico, Two-Face, or anyone associated with that crew. Kola needed to turn the tides, and one problem had to go away, starting with Chico. Then she would go after Edge and handle her business with Eduardo.

Kola continued to sail down Eighth Avenue, and like midtown Manhattan, uptown Harlem was buzzing with people and the nightlife. She slowly approached 145th Street and was ready to make a left, heading toward the Henry Hudson Parkway, when something immediately caught her eye.

“Muthafuckas!” she exclaimed.

She stopped her Benz and looked closely. It was definitely them. She wasn’t mistaken at all. Kola sat parked on the corner and watched Chico, Two-Face, Blythe, and one of Chico’s low-level enforcers walk toward a parked pearl-white Bentley. For Kola, it was a beautiful moment, the perfect opportunity. Instantly, death entered her mind. Kola wished she had Candace with her, but at that moment, she didn’t give a fuck.

Kola spun her car around, put up the rag-top for cover, and slowly drove in their direction. She removed the 9 mm she took from the Yonkers crib from her purse, cocked it back, and kept a keen eye on all of her foes.

Chico and Blythe were hugged up on each other as they walked, but Two-Face and the other supposed gunmen were looking around, watching everything that moved. The block was thick with activity. The only thing open was a shabby bodega and a low-key lounge.

Kola turned the block slowly and was ready to take action. She didn’t want to miss. She wanted to shoot Chico in his head and push his wig back, and then take out Two-Face, who had become her primary problem in the streets. Chico and Blythe were about to step into the Bentley, his two enforcers only steps behind them.

Kola didn’t give a fuck who was around.

Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!

Glass in nearby cars shattered abruptly and Kola was seen poised only a few feet away near her Benz with the gun gripped in her hand and shooting wildly at her enemies.

Chico and Blythe instantly took cover, but Two-Face and the thug went into reaction. Two-Face pulled two .45s from his waistband and crouched behind the Bentley. The second thug followed suit, pulling out a .380.

The firing continued, and Kola stepped closer with a fiery gaze of agitation. She didn’t speak a word, but aimed to kill. The shots echoed into the night.

Blythe was screaming and taking cover, Chico yelling at her, “Stay the fuck down! Stay the fuck down!”

Two-Face stood up rapidly and returned fire strongly. Bullets went whizzing by Kola’s ear, and she stumbled back toward her car, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with chaos. Two-Face rushed from behind the Bentley where he was crouched and started gunning for Kola. She was quickly outgunned and outnumbered.

She rushed into her idling Benz while the shots at her continued. Two-Face was aiming to kill. Shots penetrated Kola’s Benz as she sped away, with her ducking in the driver’s seat from shattering glass.

Two-Face chased behind the car for half a block, firing intensely and making Kola’s car look like Swiss cheese, but she was able to get away. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, that bitch!” he yelled.

Two-Face looked back at his boss and his woman and saw they were OK. But he was furious that Kola had gotten away. He gripped the twin .45s in his hands tightly and knew it was time to make an exit. He’d already heard the police sirens in the distance.

Kola sped away in her bullet-riddled Benz for blocks, making sharp turns, blowing through red lights, and trying to collect herself. She didn’t know what she was thinking when she attacked Chico and his peoples. It was a bold move, but she also knew it was stupid.

Kola finally slowed down her ride when she got near the highway. She came to a stop and stepped out of her car on a quiet street. She needed to relax and calm herself. She knew her Benz was hot, with the bullet holes and having a 9 mm on her. She took a deep breath, peered around her surroundings, and then got on her cell phone to call Candace for a ride back to Yonkers. She decided to take what she needed and scrap the Benz.

When Candace heard about what happened, she knew her boss had heart and wasn’t just about talk. It was one of the reasons why Candace had so much respect for Kola. She was gangster.

The two rode back to Yonkers in Candace’s Escalade. Kola needed to regroup, get her mind right, and think about her next move. She knew that, after tonight’s action, Chico and Two-Face would come gunning for her and her crew even harder. So she put everyone on alert, telling her girls and her soldiers to be extra careful on the streets and to always stay armed.

****

Kola finally arrived home after handling business in Yonkers with the sun peeking in the sky. Candace had dropped her off, and she wanted to stay around and protect her, but Kola assured her that she was safe. No one knew about her residence, and she had enough guns in her home to supply a small army. Candace lingered around for a moment and then headed back to Yonkers.

Kola was home for no less than an hour when she heard a car racing into her driveway and coming to a screeching stop at her front door. Kola didn’t know what to expect, so she grabbed a sawed-off, double-barrel shotgun and ran to the window. She narrowed her eyes to see who it was and was shocked to see Cross and Edge. She sighed heavily, but didn’t lower her gun or her guard.

Cross ran to the door and started knocking on it hard, shouting, “Kola, open the fuckin’ door!”

Kola stood poised by the front door with the shotgun gripped firmly in her hands. She peered out the window once again and shouted, “Go away, Cross. I don’t want you here.”

“Well, I’m fuckin’ here now. What happened last night? Those muthafuckas came at you? You OK, baby?” Cross shouted.

“I’m fine. Just fuckin’ leave!”

“I’m not goin’ nowhere, baby. I still fuckin’ love you! And, believe me, Chico and that new young nigga of his is goin’ to get got! I promise you that, Kola. We gonna kill ’em all!”

“You should have done that a long time ago. Now I’m the one left handling business.”

“What the fuck you talkin’ about? Just open the fuckin’ door so we can talk. I ain’t gonna hurt you, baby.”

“I know you won’t ’cuz, one, I’m not opening this door, and two, I got the sawed-off in my hands just for insurance.”

Cross twisted his face in anger and looked at Edge.

“Fuck her, Cross!” Edge said to him. “She always gotta be extra with her Queenpin attitude!”

Kola heard his words clearly and was ready to shoot him through the door. But she held her anger and shouted once again to Cross, “Get the fuck away from my door! I don’t need you here!”

Cross kicked the door violently and shouted back, “Bitch, you always gonna need me! Sooner than you think.”

Kola readied the shotgun, indicating that she was ready to shoot first if either one of them tried to rush inside her home. Cross quickly got the hint and slowly backed away from the door, but Edge lingered at the front door for a moment. It made Kola extremely nervous.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch! I don’t know why the fuck Cross got wit’ ya triflin’ ass!”

Kola swung open the front door and aimed the sawed-off shot gun at his face.

Edge was quickly taken aback. But then he calmly spoke the words, “You got balls, bitch.”

“Call me a bitch again, and Cross will be picking your brains up wit’ a shovel.” Kola threatened.

Edge glared at her and then chuckled. “You still don’t get it. You’re all alone, baby, all fuckin’ alone.”

Kola stared at Cross, who stood by his car and only looked on, while Edge disrespected her in front of their home. She’d had enough of them both.

“Y’all niggas want a war wit’ me, then fuckin’ bring it!”

“Nah, no war,” Edge said to her. “You know what I want.”

“And you, Cross, you disappoint me. You gonna stand there and let him talk to your woman like that?”

“My woman? Then you need to start fuckin’ acting like it. You won’t fuck me! You won’t let me come home even after I told you I don’t fuck wit’ no Cynthia. You do all that grimy shit to me, and you’re my woman? Edge, c’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here. We fuckin’ done.”

Edge grinned and secretly blew Kola a kiss. “I’ll be back, and next time, we ain’t asking to come in—well, me, anyway.”

Edge took a few steps backwards, his eyes still focused on Kola. He gave her the creeps.

Kola looked over at Cross, and their eyes locked for a moment. She didn’t see that street hustler or gangster anymore; the man she fell in love with. She only saw a punk. Cross had changed. He had slipped greatly and allowed Edge to get into his head.

Kola watched both men get back into the car and peel out. She sighed with relief and went back inside.

Something was troubling her about what Edge had said to her, about her being alone. She didn’t know what he meant by it, and she wasn’t ready to find out. She placed the shotgun back in its location and sprawled out on her sofa. They kept saying it was a man’s world, but Kola was ready to show and prove that a woman could play it better.