CHAPTER 18
One Month Later . . .
Harlem was in a full-blown heat wave. The streets felt like they were melting, and the sun felt like it was personally giving Harlem a bear hug. Fire hydrants were on full blast on almost every block, with children and some adults trying to keep cool. Other residents downed ice-cold bottles of water, some in little to no clothing, putting themselves at risk of getting arrested for indecency, the men walking around shirtless, the women in short shorts and skirts, revealing tops, and flip-flops.
The streets had been calm, violence somewhat on the low, but the tension between the two rival crews was still felt in the air. It could’ve been the calm before the storm. At any rate, police were on constant patrol, trying to keep the streets safe.
After having been gone for a month, Apple returned to Harlem a transformed woman. She enjoyed living it up in DC with Supreme and took advantage of the best her new life had to offer. She had forgotten about her family for a moment, but when she went to visit her mother, she was quickly reminded of the harsh reality she’d left behind.
Supreme accompanied Apple into her old apartment. When she entered the place, it still looked the same. Nothing had changed—the dirt, the clutter, the roaches.
Denise was in the kitchen smoking a Newport, when she noticed her daughter walk into the room. She eyed Apple from head to toe, noticing the sudden change, and for a quick moment thought Apple was Kola. But a mother could always tell her twins apart. Apple was profiling in a short, stylish skirt, a tight Fendi top, thousand-dollar shoes, and her jewelry gleamed like the sun itself.
Denise screwed up her face, and with a growl in her voice, she said to Apple, “So the fuckin’ chicken comes back home to roost.” She took a long pull from her cigarette and kept her eyes steady on Apple. Then she sharply turned them on Supreme, who stood in the center of the kitchen doorway looking nonchalant.
“Whateva!” Apple snarled back. “I just came to see how you were doing.”
“What did you fuckin’ do, huh? You leave here, don’t go to your fuckin’ sister’s funeral, and then you bring this nigga into my home. How dare you, bitch!” Denise screamed.
“Ma, you need to chill right now. I came up,” Apple replied.
“I need you to get this muthafucka out of my house. How dare you disrespect me like that? You done lost ya fuckin’ mind, Apple! But I see you good now. You got this nigga taking care of you now, huh, Apple? After what you said he did to us, you betray your family and run into his fuckin’ arms! Your sister needs to be here to kick your fuckin’ ass!” Denise’s screams echoed throughout the rooms. Then she added, “The police came talking to me and shit, and where were you?”
“They came to you about what?” Apple asked.
“This nigga here.” Denise pointed at Supreme. Then she screamed at him, “You took her from me!” Enraged, Denise charged at him.
But Apple grabbed her mother by the arms and held her back a few feet, stopping the assault on her newfound man. She tussled with her mother then pushed her into the sink and shouted, “Ma, relax ya fuckin’ self!”
Supreme decided to intervene, stepping between mother and daughter with a strong presence. He then looked down at Apple’s mother, his eyes set in a caring manner, and said to her, “Look, I’m sorry about what happened to your daughter, and I know there are some things being said about me. Shit ain’t true, but I’m here to make things right wit’ you.”
Supreme reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. Then he counted out five hundred dollars and pushed it into Denise’s hands as a peace offering.
A surprised Denise looked over at Apple and asked with her eyes, Is he for real?
Apple smiled. A good sum of money could easily shut her mother up and change her mood.
“And there’s more where that came from,” Supreme said, “if you just chill wit’ things. I’m not here to cause any trouble for you. I just wanna make it right.”
Denise took a seat at the weathered kitchen table and counted her money. She then took another pull from the cigarette, looked up at Apple and Supreme with a shift in her attitude, and asked, “So where you been at, Apple?”
“DC.”
“I would like to go next time. I never been anywhere.”
Supreme smiled. “Then I won’t forget you when we leave again.”
Denise smiled warily. The two women quickly reconciled with each other and decided to put their past behind them.
*****
It wasn’t long until Apple started to learn the loan-sharking and bookkeeping business with Supreme, who picked up on her skills and wanted to bank on it. Apple was fresh, but had ideas herself, and she saw how Supreme made the bulk of his money—using intimidation to get debtors to pay him back at a high interest.
Within weeks, Apple came to realize just how successful and devious Supreme was with the illicit business he ran. She began doing bookkeeping for him, managing his organization, and maintaining some of his debt collection records. She also managed a few of his real estate holdings. She saw the money he was bringing in and was turned on by it.
One of Supreme’s major loan-sharking schemes was through the restaurant businesses that occupied Harlem’s busy streets. He had implemented the scheme about a year earlier. He would take patrons’ credit card information when the failing restaurants couldn’t make their loan repayments. Sometimes, if the owners couldn’t pay him back, he demanded the credit card information of their customers by brute force and threats of death. Supreme would walk into several of the struggling businesses and lend the proprietors the money they needed to keep their businesses afloat, charging them exorbitant interest rates. Some he hit with the “juice” system—If a business received a loan of $10,000, then Supreme required them to pay an extra four points, which was $4000 or more a week.
The owners, scared to get any help from law enforcement, did what they needed to do to survive. Supreme would walk into the establishments under his domain, and he and his goons would eat for free, creating bills in the hundreds, sometimes thousands.
Supreme also had scouts going out into the streets of Harlem, and occasionally downtown Brooklyn, to look for potential victims he could invest in. His young scouts, young boys and girls ranging from ages fifteen to nineteen, would walk into different stores looking for the unfortunate ones who couldn’t afford the items and mostly window-shopped. His scouts would strike up a conversation with the customers, and with influence and game, before day’s end, get them to borrow the cash under the “juice” system, depending on the size of the loan. The customers had a certain amount of time to pay back the money borrowed, with the points added.
Supreme profited well from both schemes. If they couldn’t pay in time, then intimidation and violence followed. Sometimes he would threaten to kidnap family members and loved ones, guaranteeing to the debtors that every week they were late with payment, they would receive a piece of their loved ones in the mail. The women, they had two choices—Pay back in cash or work it off sexually. Supreme’s goons would rape them or occasionally force them to work as prostitutes or hostesses in sleazy nude underground spots throughout the city to pay off their debt.
Supreme even brought misery to hard-up families by offering loans to tide them over. One terrified client of his was so scared, he hung himself after his $500 loan spiraled to $3,000. Sometimes the borrowers were paying more than $500 a week in interest. Supreme wanted his money and he wanted it fast.
Apple and Supreme soon became an item, the hood speculating and gossiping about her involvement in his operation, from corner to corner. She became the most talked-about girl, and when they didn’t see her at Nichols’ funeral several weeks earlier, they began to have their doubts about her.
Before long, Apple started doing some of the debt-collecting herself. Supreme taught her how to be hardhearted and not to let anyone slide out of debt, explaining, if you let one individual pass on a debt, then the others would be looking for a pass too, or a fucking handout. He let it be known that he wasn’t running a charity case and had convinced Apple that anyone late with payment or refusing to pay was taking money out her pockets as well, which meant no new Gucci or Prada for her to style in, or no riding around in the drop-top Benz.
As August began, Apple became known as Supreme’s main chick around the way, confronting those that didn’t pay, like a pit bull in a skirt, carrying around a nickel-plated .22 and a small razor for any problems that sprung up in her line of work. She’d easily cut and pistol-whipped a few bitches that tried her, spreading her reputation on the streets of Harlem. Too bad, they chose to learn the hard way that she meant business.
With the women, Apple made it clearly known that there wouldn’t be any more sleeping off their debts with Supreme or any of his goons. Having to duck and hide from Supreme herself not too long ago, she’d quickly learned the tricks of the trade. They either had to pay up or sell their ass on the corners to pay back what they owed. No exceptions.
It was a new day, and Apple was at the top of the food chain for once.
When her cell phone rang, she hesitated before she answered it.
“Whaddup?”
“What’s up, this Cartier.”
Apple’s mood soured. “Where you been? I called you ages ago about Nichols.”
“I was shot, bitch. Me and my daughter, so I couldn’t get right back.”
Apple didn’t like the tone in Cartier’s voice, but knew better than to react. She’d already heard about Cartier’s run-in and how Bam had gotten murdered; the streets don’t keep no secrets.
“Oh, my bad. But you OK, now right? You and baby-girl?”
“Yeah, we good but I heard from Kola and you wildin’.”
“Fuck that bitch! She just jealous, that’s all.”
“Nah, I don’t get that from her. Kola said she was tossin’ up Harlem for Nichols while you went MIA. She said you let dick come between fam. The streets are talkin’ ’bout you and ’Preme, and so is Kola.”
“How you gonna take her side over mines?” Apple was spent. She thought she was closer to Cartier than her sister. “I can’t really talk over the phone, but the Nichols situation got handled. That was all me!”
“Look, we peoples, but fam is fam. You don’t go against the grain for no fuckin’ body. Kola wanted me to come through to help her tie up a few loose ends, but I’m heading OT for a while, but wanted to touch base to make sure you and Kola would squash your beef.”
“Oh, no doubt. It’s ain’t that serious,” Apple lied.
“You sure?”
“One hundred.”
Apple couldn’t wait to hang up with Cartier and get right back to her empire. But she did make a mental note to readdress her feelings toward her mentor at a later date. She respected Cartier and all, but gone were the days that she’d let anyone—including Cartier—speak to her like she was less than a boss.