Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 2

“He damn sure wants to fuck you, but I keep telling him that you’re off limits. Are you?”

“Oh, so what you asking? Do I wanna fuck him too?” asked Charlie.

Mona shrugged. “He just wanted me to put it out there. But Ahbou’s cool people. He’s definitely about his business—definitely nobody to fuck with.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all you can do.”

It didn’t take long for them to finish off the bottle of Goose, and Mona rolled up their third blunt for the evening. Charlie was having a good time with her. For her to be a cop, she got high like a ghetto bitch, and she was able to go drink-for-drink with Charlie in alcohol consumption. They were both tipsy, but not drunk—not yet.

“Charlie, I got a question for you. You got that nice car, nice clothes, nice jewelry—is stolen merchandise the only thing you’re selling?” asked Mona.

“And why ya asking?”

“Just curiosity, that’s all. Bitch like me believes you’re moving coke.”

“Coke? Wow. You tryin’ to set me up?”

Mona laughed. “Fuck outta here. You know me—”

“Yeah, you’re cool, but you’re still a cop,” Charlie replied.

“I’m not tryin’ to get in your business; I was just asking.”

“To answer your question, no, I’m not moving any coke or any drugs. The only thing I’m selling is merchandise.”

“I really like you, Charlie. You’re smart and you got heart. Real recognizes real,” Mona proclaimed.

“No doubt.”

Mona was more t

han a decade older than Charlie, but neither cared about age. It felt like they had known each other for a long time. Their backgrounds were similar and their mentalities were identical—get money by any means necessary and stay respected in the game.

Mona opened another bottle of Grey Goose and poured both of them a glass while she continued to pull on the blunt.

“So, you feeling my partner or what?” she brought up again.

“I told you, I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah, do that and let me know soon, cuz I’m gonna smack Ahbou if he don’t shut up ’bout you,” Mona stated.

Charlie laughed. “Damn, it’s like that with him?”

“Yeah. Pussy-craving muthafucka.”

***

Charlie and Mona started to hang out on a regular basis. It started at Mona’s place and then it shifted to Mona coming over to Charlie’s Brooklyn apartment. Mona was impressed with the place. Charlie had taste. It became common for the two of them to get high and tipsy—and sometimes asshole-drunk—together.

Claire hated them together. Not only was Mona was taking her sister’s attention away, but Mona was loud and always came to their apartment with a gun—or guns. Something about Mona rubbed Claire the wrong way. The look in Mona’s eyes was shifty, and Claire felt she was bad news. When she was alone with Charlie, she continuously pleaded with her to leave that woman alone. Claire felt the fact that Mona was a cop was even more of an incentive not to mess around with her.

“Don’t trust her, Charlie. You need to leave that bitch alone.”

“Stay out my business, Claire,” Charlie rebuked.

Soon, Ahbou started to come along, and the trio would get high and drink. Ahbou was an intriguing guy. His personality was magnetic and he was humorous just as much as he was dangerous, something that captured Charlie’s attention. The streets were saying that he was a killer with a badge, but his dirty jokes were hilarious.