Checkmate: The Baddest Chick (26 page)

“So true.”

OMG removed his shades and placed them on the table in front of him. He peered at Nikki, and then at Kola, his attention lasting longer on her long and well-defined legs.

Kola knew his look all too well. Her beauty was a gift and a curse.

“You know you’re a beautiful woman, Kola.”

“Thank you.”

OMG turned his attention to the bikini-clad groupie and said, “Go inside for minute. I need to talk business out here.”

The young girl looked reluctant. She stood up and brushed by Kola, cutting her eyes at her.

Kola only tossed her eyes toward the sky, knowing the young bitch was far from her level. She could easily wipe the floor with her, but she was there on business, not to get into a catfight.

“Have a seat, ladies,” OMG said.

Kola and Nikki sat opposite him, a small table with a few drinks on it between them.

OMG sat back. “So what’s this business you need to discuss with me, Nikki?”

“We’ve known each other for a long time, OMG. And you know, over the years, I made a lot of money for you.”

OMG nodded. “Indeed.”

“I got nothing but love and respect for you, but I’m not getting any younger. I need some stability right now, OMG. I need to branch off, start my own thang.”

“In Miami?”

“I’m not trying to step on any toes out here. As you know, ATL is wide open right now since that big drug bust a month ago, along with a few areas of the South. And further north, there’s Fort Lauderdale. That area is wide open for business. And my cousin Kola is from New York. She’s doing it big up there. We just need a connect.”

OMG stared at the girls for a moment. “It’s expensive out there, Nikki.”

“You know me, OMG. I got expensive taste, and only fuck with the best. So it makes sense we only want to fuck with you.”

OMG took another pull of his cigar, pondering the proposal. He knew Nikki was well known and had business savvy. His only gripe was, he didn’t know Kola at all. He was wise enough to know trouble could come in any form—even in a young, beautiful woman.

“I can vouch for you, Nikki, but your cousin, she’s a new face. You know how I feel about a new face in my organization.”

“She’s cool peoples, OMG. I can vouch for her.”

OMG’s eyes rested on Kola, whose stare never veered from him.

“What? I need to prove myself to you or somethin’?”

“You could be police.”

“OMG, you think I would be stupid enough to bring a cop in here? You think I’m a snitch?” Nikki asked.

“Like I said, I know you, but I don’t know her,” he repeated firmly.

“So what do I have to do to gain your trust in me?” Kola asked. “And I’m not fuckin’ you.”

OMG chuckled. “I get plenty of pussy, little girl. The slit between your legs is nothing new, or anything to bargain with. I would take it if I wanted to. But I do like your assertiveness, and your eyes sing a rough tune. I’ll tell you what. You do a favor for me, and I’ll return the favor.”

“I’m listening,” Kola said.

“I’m having a problem with an individual in this city . . . a lingering problem that’s becoming a fuckin’ thorn in my ass. I need that problem to disappear. You make it happen for me, and then we’re in business. You have my word on that.”

Kola replied, “Cool. Consider it done.”

“A friend of mines will fill you in with all the details necessary,” OMG added. “Now y’all can go.”

The ladies stood up and walked toward the front entrance.

The young hooligan continued to flirt with Kola during their exit, persistent with his approach. They ignored him a second time.

Before Nikki drove off, she looked at Kola. “You sure you’re ready to do this?”

“Look, Nikki, I didn’t come down here to fuckin’ fail, so if I gotta snatch a nigga’s life so I can get this connect goin’ and get paid, then so be it. It won’t be the first life I took.”

Nikki smiled. “We are
definitely
family.”

CHAPTER 22

C
hico arrived in Los Mochis in the late evening. It was a tiresome trip having to deal with Customs agents, jet lag, and the traffic. He landed at General Roberto Fierro Villalobos International Airport in the city of Chihuahua, Mexico. Los Mochis was hours away from the airport, and there weren’t any commercial flights in that direction. The trip to Los Mochis had to be completed either by bus, car, or a single-engine plane.

Los Mochis was a coastal city in northern Sinaloa, Mexico with a population a little over two hundred thousand. The climate in the dusty, rural town was hot and dry, with the summers extremely hot, and the winters dry with almost no rainfall.

When Chico finally arrived at Los Mochis, he linked up with Dario. They quickly greeted each other and got into a dusty Ford pickup truck.

Dario drove Chico to the whorehouse where Apple had been staying. It was located on the outskirts of the town, near a back road and land stretching for miles. The road that led into the shaky, one-story compound with its crumbling structure was nothing but dirt and rocks, and seemed to be never-ending. The windows to the compound were boarded up, and there were no signs around indicating that it was a brothel.

Chico glared at the place and had no words for a moment. When the truck stopped, he right away stepped out and walked toward the building. It was now empty with evidence of recent violence.

“She was here?” Chico asked.

“Yeah, to my understanding. A few whores say some men rushed inside, killed a few of Shaun’s men, and took her during the night.”

“Who the fuck took her?”

“We’re trying to find out now.”

“I need to fuckin’ find her,” Chico stated, exasperated.

Dario nodded. He didn’t understand what made Apple, a whore in his eyes, so important to Chico. But he wasn’t paid to question Chico’s motives. He was paid to kill or track people down.

Chico walked closer to the place. He entered the structure and started to look around. The smell was overwhelming. The horrid conditions inside made him wonder about Apple’s treatment. He knew it had to be hell on earth. He explored everywhere, going from room to room, looking at the makeshift showers, dirty toilets, and filthy rooms that lined the narrow hallway. Dirty, stained mattresses lay across bug-ridden floors, and used condoms were scattered about next to tainted articles of women’s clothing.

Dario entered the room where Chico stood.

“I don’t know how people can live like this,” Dario said. “Inhumane. And they call me an animal because I kill people. But to keep them alive and living like this . . . Shit, I’d rather be dead.”

“Yo, Dario, you wanna shut the fuck up? I don’t need your opinion right now.”

Dario shrugged. He stepped out of the dilapidated bedroom and gave Chico a moment to himself.

Chico looked around the room, trying to find some evidence of Apple’s existence in the place. He spent a short moment in the room. When he exited, Dario was in the hallway waiting.

“What you wanna do now?” Dario asked.

“Continue looking.” Chico walked out the compound feeling disgusted and angry. The men got back into the truck and sped away from the horrid brothel.

As they sped toward the town, Chico said to Dario, “When we find Apple, I want you to find this Shaun muthafucka, and before you kill him, make that nigga suffer for hours. And I want his torture videotaped. I think it’ll be something Apple would like to have as a memento. I’ll pay you double for that shit.”

Dario nodded. “You got it. It’s your money.”

That night, the men checked into the El Dorado motel. The rooms were simply decorated with a full bed, a shaky table, a few chairs, and a retro color TV.

Chico wasn’t in the mood to watch TV. He stared out the window and took in the town, thinking heavily. He now remembered Shaun, Memo’s brother.

Dante had taken Memo out with a shotgun. Blew his head right off. Then they had thrown his sister Ayesha off the project rooftop. Dante and Chico had nearly wiped out Shaun’s family in a brutal way. Chico figured kidnapping and brutalizing Apple was only payback. He was ready to hunt the last brother down and finish it.

****

Early the next morning, Chico and Dario were out on the road again, trying to find leads to Apple’s whereabouts. They scoured the town of Los Mochis and Ahome, hitting up the local bars, motels, and underground establishments. Chico was willing to pay money for information on Shaun and “the whore with the burned face”, as the men in town described her.

“
Sí
, I’ve seen her around, and then I haven’t,” one of the drunken locals said to Chico. “She pretty and ugly at the same time. Too bad though, that American chocha was some of the best.”

It angered Chico how recklessly the man talked about Apple to his face. He glared at the drunken patron and clenched his fists.

The man went on, “And when she was pregnant,
sí
, the pussy was worth every peso I earned.”

Immediately, Chico struck the drunk in the jaw, knocking him back into a few chairs. He stumbled and looked shocked.

Dario ran over to control the scene. He grabbed Chico and snatched him out of the bar.

“C’mon, we still got places to look into,” Dario said. “I have a lead.”

Chico walked away and got into the truck. When no one was looking, he shed a few tears but wiped them away as fast as they appeared. He couldn’t look weak, and he couldn’t look desperate.

He’d left a profitable drug organization in Harlem to come to Mexico to look for Apple. It was an outrageous thing to do for a man in his position. He’d told Blythe and others that he was leaving town for a few weeks to take care of business, but he didn’t elaborate further. Chico knew that if his peers and Blythe found out that he’d planned on scouring Mexico to find an ex-girlfriend—one who’d become a whore—his reputation would be tarnished forever.

The following week, the men went searching through small towns like La Florida, Bachoco, Ohuira, and El Capulí, but they came up empty. Chico was willing to pay handsomely for any viable information, but he kept getting the same results or excuses from the locals.

“My friend, you just missed her, but I know where she
might
be.”

It turned into a wild goose chase. Two weeks had passed, and they weren’t any closer to finding Apple since the day he’d arrived. It was a tiresome search.

Chico was also aware that he was in the deadly cartel’s domain, and after what he had done to Two-Face, the last thing he needed was to run into them. Though he’d tried to pin Two-Face’s death on Cross and Kola, Roman, might want to dead Chico just on GP.

****

The men arrived in a town called Guamúchil, an ancient and pastoral town about a hundred miles south of Los Mochis. They walked into a local bar crowded with customers.

Chico quickly scanned the place, taking in the mixed crowd of elderly and young downing tequila like it was water. Chico didn’t know any Spanish, but Dario was fluent in the language and was his interpreter in the country.

The duo immediately stood out, catching stares and fleeting looks from most people inside. Chico headed farther into the bar. He studied faces and remained cautious. He pulled out Apple’s picture and began working the bubbly crowd inside. Dario was right behind him, .38 snug in his waist to ward off any possible trouble.

Chico approached the first individual by the bar. He raised the picture for the man to see, and Dario spoke for him.

“
¿Has visto a esta chica?
” Dario asked the man, asking if he had seen this woman around.

The man studied the picture for a moment and shook his head.

Chico moved on to the next individual and the next. He received a collection of “no’s” and confused stares from many of the locals. It frustrated him. He assumed that they were all lying, probably covering up for someone. He worked the bar for an hour, Dario following suit.

It was getting late, and the bar began thinning out. Only a few stragglers lingered behind, drinking their sorrows and paychecks away in the little bar.

Chico walked over to a short, round, cheery-looking man. He placed the picture in the man’s face and asked in English, “You ever saw this girl around?”

“
Sí
,” he answered.

“You said yes?” Chico questioned. “You speak English?”

“
Sí
,
amigo
, I know her.”

Chico became alert. “From where?”

“She’s a whore from my old town.”

“I know that. But have you seen her recently?” Chico asked.

“No, not since I came here. But I have seen one of the other whores from there working here,” he said.

“Where at?”

“At a brothel a mile from here,
amigo
. Her name is Alba.”