Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 2

“I’m not going against you; I’m only looking out for you, Mecca. I know Pyro, and he’s gonna use you.”

“It sounds like you’re hating on me,” Mecca countered.

“Hate? I’m telling you the truth—trying to protect you.”

It was a shock to Mecca. “Protect me? You know who you remind of right now? Charlie and Claire.”

Now that was a gut shot for Chanel. “Seriously? You’re going to compare me to my sisters? I’m nothing like them.”

“You could have fooled me. And you shouldn’t be telling Pyro’s personal business like that, especially after he opened his door to you and is allowing you to stay there rent-free.”

“I thought I was looking out for you—being a friend, you know?”

“No. I don’t know. And why should I tell you my business when you can’t be honest with me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you were lying to me about where you were staying. I thought you were in a hotel all that time, but come to find out that you were shacking up with Pyro—and while your man is in the hospital. And now you’re telling me not to mess with him. Why? Because you want him too?”

Chanel was completely taken aback by the accusation. “No! Hell no! We’re just friends.”

“Well, you could have fooled me, because right now your actions are speaking much louder than your words. I thought you were my friend and that you would be encouraging. Obviously, I was wrong,” Mecca retorted.

Chanel didn’t want to argue with Mecca, but it was too late. Mecca stormed off, leaving Chanel behind looking dumbfounded.

What just happened?

Chanel walked away from the scene. She started to feel some guilt about the exchange between her and Mecca. She thought about Mateo, knowing she needed to be there for him. He was who truly mattered to her, right? So why the animosity over Pyro and Mecca being together? Was Mecca right? Had she developed feelings for Pyro?

Chapter Sixteen

Charlie’s bright red Mercedes Benz SL was eye candy and a status symbol cruising through the Brooklyn neighborhood. It was like a flashing marquee that screamed, “Y’all muthafuckas thought I was down, but look at me now, bitches!” As she made her rounds through Brooklyn with her music blaring and the top down despite it being a breezy fall day, Charlie felt like a goddess—and a boss. She wanted to be seen and heard. She may have been knocked down, but she wasn’t staying down.

Whoop! Whoop!

Charlie cursed and scowled at the sight of the police lights flashing behind her, but she kept her cool. She was legit, but she still didn’t trust police at all. She hoped it was a routine traffic stop, but she wondered why they were pulling her over. She hadn’t violated any traffic laws, and she knew everything on the Benz was functional.

A troubling thought raced through her mind. What if they had found her DNA at God’s murder scene? The situation had been lingering heavily on her mind, and until Kym was convicted and sentenced, Charlie would remain uneasy about the investigation.

That feeling of panic quickly subsided when Charlie saw Mona exiting the unmarked Crown Vic, along with her partner Ahbou. Her expression remained deadpan as her eyes stayed fixed on Mona and her partner through the rearview mirror. Still, Charlie didn’t trust anyone.

Ahbou and Mona approached the driver’s side, and Mona had a wide grin on her face. Charlie exhaled in relief.

“Bitch, where did you cop this sweet ride from?” Mona asked.

“None of ya business. Don’t hate on a bitch,” Charlie replied jokingly.

“I think I’m paying you too much money for your product,” quipped Mona.

“Shit, a bitch gotta eat, right?”

“No doubt.”

Charlie climbed out of her Benz and they started to chitchat on the Brooklyn street like Mona wasn’t a cop on duty. Ahbou was immediately smitten by Charlie. The pretty redbone had his undivided attention.

“That last load you sold me, it was on point. When I go out, everybody asks me where I got my shit from,” Mona said.

“I told you, I get nothing but the best. I’m glad you loved it.”