Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 1

Charlie had mixed emotions about God being there.

To Charlie, he emphatically denied the rape—whether it was between him and Chanel, or Fingers and Chanel.

“Then why the sudden tension between you and Fingers?” she asked him.

“That’s some other shit, Charlie, not this. I promise you, we ain’t touch that girl,” he replied vehemently.

He continued to lie and said that Chanel was lying to get attention. Charlie didn’t know what to believe. God went on to say that he bet the rape test would come back inclusive, no DNA.

She narrowed her eyes at him. What did he mean DNA?

“Maybe they wrapped up,” she said. “My sister was fuckin’ raped!”

God became easily offended, and shouted, “I ain’t no fuckin’ rapist! I would never touch ya fuckin’ sister, especially some black, ugly bitch like her. Shit is like fuckin’ incest. She’s like a sister to me too.”

“But she’s not your fuckin’ sister!”

“You never gave a fuck about her anyway!”

“That don’t mean shit!”

“I didn’t fuckin’ do it, Charlie, so get that shit out ya fuckin’ mind,” he shouted.

They argued right there, and God remained adamant about his innocence in the rape. Eventually, Charlie backed down, but she couldn’t shake the uneasiness she felt around God. The thought of her man putting his dick inside her little sister disgusted her. Inexplicably she still loved him, even with the allegations of rape lingering over his head.

He was right, though. She never cared about Chanel, so why did she start to now? Was it jealousy that Chanel fucked him too, though it was by rape? She already had everything, and now God had to give himself to her too—taking her virginity.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Bacardi stayed by her daughter’s side in a room chair, while the rest of the family went home. Chanel’s doctor had come out and confirmed that she’d been raped. There was trauma and tears to her vagina, and her hymen was viciously torn. They’d swabbed her for DNA, but they wouldn’t know if they had a profile for some time now.

Bacardi was shocked that Chanel was still a virgin. She didn’t think that it was still possible at her age. Bacardi had been having sex since she was twelve years old.

Grief and guilt overwhelmed Bacardi, and she realized that she had been a terrible mother to her youngest daughter. The fact that a long time ago she’d had an affair and had gotten pregnant with a man she loved had haunted her until this day.

Bacardi wanted revenge.

A few detectives came to the room to ask Chanel some questions about the home invasion and the attack. Did she recognize the two men? She didn’t. They wore masks. Did she notice any distinguishing marks on either man? She couldn’t tell. It happened too quickly, and she was terrified. They were dressed in black and wore gloves, therefore, left behind no fingerprints. The men

came and went, vanished suddenly, leaving behind her fiancé to fight for his life—and her definitely scarred for life.

With nothing to go on, the detectives were disappointed. They really wanted to catch these culprits. There had been a wave of deadly home invasions in the Tri-State area in the past few years, and the culprits still hadn’t been caught. The detectives were hoping that Chanel could give them their first lead to catch these murderous thugs, but they left empty handed.

“We were getting married,” Chanel uttered faintly.

“Married?” Bacardi was shocked to hear.

Damn it, the man was going to officially become her son-in-law, and now they didn’t know if he would live or die. Just like that, Chanel’s world—and she felt like her world—had been turned upside down.

Bacardi sat with Chanel for a few more hours, and then she decided to go check on Mateo. He was in ICU—comatose from the shooting and the intense surgery, with machines and tubes monitoring his vitals and trying to keep him alive.

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes with him,” said his nurse.

Bacardi nodded. She moved closer to Mateo’s bed, a bit nervous to see him in such a fragile condition. Then there was this anger that started to develop inside of her. Why was this happening to her daughter? Mateo was supposed to be her golden goose out of the hood. He had money and he was kind to her—a cool dude. Maybe he had enemies, or stick-up kids came to violently take from him like they always do. There were so many questions as to why this happened, but Bacardi knew that she probably would never know the answers.

She gently took Mateo’s hand into hers and said to him, “Chanel is gonna be okay, Mateo. And she needs you to fight. She told me that y’all were getting married. That’s wonderful news. So you fight, so you can be with my daughter and take care of her—take care of us. But I need you to fight because someone hurt my daughter and we need you to get better so you can get your revenge.”

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