Bad Girl Blvd Part 3
Bad Girl Blvd
Part 3
Erica Hilton
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Bad Girl Blvd 3. Copyright © 2014 by Melodrama Publishing. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address Melodrama Publishing, P.O. Box 522, Bellport, NY 11713.
www.melodramapublishing.com
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014910884
eISBN: 9781620780435
Ebook Edition: April 2015
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Interior Design: Candace K. Cottrell
Cover Design: Candace K. Cottrell
Cover Model: Luca Linn
Model Photo: Marion Designs
Books By ERICA HILTON
10 Crack Commandments
Bad Girl Blvd
Bad Girl Blvd 2
Bad Girl Blvd 3
The Diamond Syndicate
Dirty Little Angel
Dirty Money Honey
Wifey: From Mistress to Wifey (Part 1)
Wifey: I Am Wifey (Part 2)
Prologue
It was cold outside like Antarctica. White flakes started to cover the windshield of the black Escalade that Phaedra sat in, parked outside of Brookdale Hospital. It was early evening, and the gloomy weather matched her foul mood.
Phaedra didn’t know what to do with herself. At first she felt lost and used. Then heartbroken. She gripped the loaded .45, the betrayal clogging her mind and the tears streaming down her face. She had the urge to break something. She had lost so much—Kool-aid, friends, her dignity, and now Clyde and Luca.
***
It had been a week since Clyde had awakened from his coma and called out Luca’s name. What the fuck! was the first thing that screamed through Phaedra’s mind. She was shocked by his choice. She could still remember how before he’d made his choice he looked Phaedra dead in her eyes and dismissed her when, only hours earlier, they had made sweet, passionate love at his home.
Phaedra had been dumb enough to think that they actually had something. But he played her; used her for some pussy. She had finally opened her heart to a man, and within hours he had crushed it. He wanted Luca. He made his choice, and she abruptly left the room, leaving them alone. Phaedra was so confused, because she had so much love and respect for Luca, who had brought her out of the pits of the jungle and bettered her life. The upset and the treachery by her boss tore Phaedra apart. She knew if Kool-aid was still alive he would tell her that she done bumped her fuckin’ head and was wildin’ the fuck out. Kool-aid was real like that. He spoke the truth to her, and most times she would listen to him. She missed him already. She needed her best friend in her life.
***
Whiteness started to cover the ground and Phaedra’s truck. The weatherman had predicted up to four inches of snow. She sat behind the wheel looking detached, pistol in hand. Her mind was spinning out of control with so many things. It felt like she was going crazy.
After two hours of sitting and waiting, watching the snow fall, and feeling the cold take over her soul, Phaedra finally spotted Luca’s pearl-white Benz slowly ease into an open parking spot. As Luca parallel-parked, Phaedra keenly watched her and hyped herself up to do the unthinkable. She planned on sliding behind Luca and squeezing two bullets into the back of her head. She would leave her Escalade running with the keys in the ignition and make a fast getaway before Luca’s body fell to the ground. Voices in her head kept trying to tell her, “Don’t do it. Walk away,” but Phaedra shook them off.
Phaedra was burning with jealousy as she watched Luca strut across Linden Boulevard with her black mink coat sweeping the ground, knee-high boots, and a neon blue wig against her pale skin. She gazed down at her own attire—tight jeans, a dark hoodie, ski jacket, and sneakers.
She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “Just do it,” she told herself as Luca neared the entrance to the hospital. It was now or never. Gripping the gun tightly and scowling, she opened the door and stepped out into the cold and snow.
The weather didn’t bother Phaedra, her adrenaline running high. With stealth, she moved behind Luca, who was unaware of the threat. She moved closer, her arm outstretched with the barrel of the gun aimed at the back of Luca’s head, her finger on the trigger. Her heart started to beat rapidly. It seemed like it was just the two of them on the street and time had stood still.
Just fuckin’ do it, Phaedra screamed in her mind. The more she hesitated, the more she felt herself backing out of it and allowing Luca to live.
Phaedra proceeded forward, frowning heavily as the snow covered her face. The snow flurries were everywhere, becoming thicker by the minute, and the ground felt frozen and slippery. Phaedra rushed toward Luca, and just as she was about to pull the trigger, she heard, “Police! Put the gun down! Drop it!”
Luca spun around and became wide-eyed seeing Phaedra pointing a gun at her. She was speechless, frozen with shock.
“Drop the fuckin’ gun!” one officer shouted. “Don’t fuckin’ move!”
Phaedra found herself surrounded by a handful of uniformed cops, their guns trained on every part of her anatomy.
Luca and Phaedra locked eyes. There were no words.
Phaedra felt like she could still pull the trigger—take her boss’ life and be done with it.
“You ready to go there?” Luca managed to say coolly. Even with a pistol aimed at her, she didn’t flinch or panic.
Phaedra didn’t say a word. She lowered the gun, and the moment she did so, she was tackled by NY’s Finest and thrown against the ground. They twisted her arms behind her, and with a cop’s knee in her back and snow in her face, she was placed under arrest.
Luca stood there watching it all take place. In that moment she knew things would never be the same between her and Phaedra.
Phaedra didn’t say a single word as she was ushered to the marked police car and shoved into the backseat. She didn’t know how the cops became aware of her plan, but it all seemed like a nightmare playing inside her head.
I wanna wake up now, she said to herself. I wanna wake up now.
Chapter 1
Clyde sat still in his hospital bed recovering from his gunshot wounds. What were the odds that he had survived two attempts on his life? Well, the second shooting he was saving Luca’s life and was willing to die for her so she would live. It was crazy of him. He’d responded without even thinking. One minute he was caught up in a jam, having cheated on his girl with her best friend, the next he had several hot slugs pumped into his body.
His mouth felt dry, his body ached, and he felt numb in a few places. He still couldn’t feel his legs. He had thirty-two staples running from his chest to his pelvis from a life-saving surgery. The bullets had carved a devastating path, causing his lungs to collapse and damaging both kidneys and his spleen. The doctors had told him that, even with months of physical therapy, it may take him years to walk again, since one of the bullets had nicked one of his nerve endings.
Clyde didn’t want to believe it. He refused to accept being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. “No, I will walk again,” he’d said defiantly. “I will not live like this forever. I will fucking walk within a year.”
His doctor responded, “I understand your determination, and I do appreciate your tenacity, but you need to be realistic. You’ve suffered severe damage. We warn you not to put too much pressure on yourself.”
Clyde frowned. The doctors didn’t know shit. He had been shot before in Baltimore and had come back from it. He wasn’t going to become a cripple.
His condition was a gruesome sight for his own eyes. He couldn’t move, and he’d dropped more than fifty pounds. There was nothing more humbling than a grown man having to rely on nursing staff to bathe him and change his shit bags. Sometimes the unbearable pain only added to his depression and anxiety. It felt like hell, but he was determined to get through it once again.
Dr. McMinn left the room to see about his other patients on the floor. He was supposed to be the best. They called him the miracle man. It was a miracle that Clyde had survived his surgery. He would have to spend a few more weeks recovering in the hospital and then endure months of physical therapy.
Clyde closed his eyes and tried to get some rest. He wished it was all a nightmare he could wake up from, but the pain that surged through his body and the tubes running into him told him otherwise.
***
Luca walked into the room to see Clyde with his eyes closed and assumed he was asleep. She went near his bedside and touched his hand. He looked like hell, but at least he was still alive. She pulled the chair next to his bed, removed her mink coat and placed it behind her, and sat silently near him. She sighed heavily, feeling ambivalent. Clyde had sacrificed his own body to save her life, but he had also cheated on her with Phaedra.
She thought about what had just transpired outside the hospital. Did she actually come so close to death? Would her friend have actually pulled the trigger if the police hadn’t shown up?
Clyde opened his eyes and saw Luca
seated next to him. He managed a smile.
“Hey,” she spoke. “I see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“I could be better,” he replied faintly.
“Have you been eating?”
“I’m not too hungry.”
Luca didn’t mention what happened with Phaedra outside the hospital. He probably wouldn’t believe her if she told him anyway, knowing how close they were, or used to be. But, then again, he’d caused the rift between them when he decided to have sex with both women.
She knew that coming to visit Clyde in the hospital was putting her life in danger, but it was a risk she was willing to take. Luca wasn’t born yesterday though, and after the failed hit on her life by Squirrel, she decided to call in her connections and cash in on her blackmailing schemes by contacting Judge Holland Lemansky and the local precinct. She gave them the names of all potential threats, from Squirrel down. She would survive by any means necessary.
Her IQ was a weapon of mass destruction. A few of her enemies were destroyed for the reason that, while they were playing checkers, she was playing chess.
Although she gave up Squirrel, World, and, at the last minute, Phaedra, never in her wildest thought did she think when she turned around she would be facing her best friend. It was definitely a hard pill to swallow.
Some might call it snitching, but Luca looked at it as having the drop on everyone. She had the attitude that it was either her or them.
Luca’s phone call led to undercover officers staking out the place for days. They had everything they needed—Phaedra’s description along with the vehicle she could be driving. And her information was on the money. With Phaedra locked up, that was one down and two to go. Luca didn’t have time to feel any sympathy for her former friend. She didn’t have time to do anything but survive and build her empire again. She had lost too many people and too much money.
The hospital room felt basic and functional. There were faded walls with streaks where it had been cleaned, and the cold tiled floors looked clean. While there was plenty of room to move about, there was nowhere to get comfortable.
“You need to eat,” Luca said to him.
Clyde didn’t say anything. He only looked off into the distance.
He didn’t look like the sovereign he was anymore. Paralyzed from the waist down, he looked like a withered man dying with cancer. His extreme weight loss made his face sink in, and his eyes looked bigger.
Luca believed he would get better. Maybe one day walk again.
“It’s snowing outside,” she said, trying to turn his silence into conversation.
“I don’t care for the snow right now, Luca,” he replied.
“What do you care for right now?”
“To leave here and be myself again,” he said, some sarcasm in his tone.
Luca felt she walked into that one. The smile he had when he’d opened his eyes to see her at his bedside seemed long gone. Now someone different was in the room.
She looked out the window from her chair. The blinds were open, showing the bright snowfall outside.
Clyde was turned away from the view, not caring to see the snowfall.
She wanted to say it would get better, but she couldn’t predict the future. She didn’t see miracles happen in her world. It was always pain and sorrow. It could have been her lying there fucked up and looking crazy.
Would he blame me? Luca thought. Squirrel meant to shoot her, not him. Clyde was just being a hero, and it had cost him his legs. Would he become a foe in my life also?
“Next time I come, I’ll bring you some food from the outside.”
Once again, Clyde didn’t respond.
“You’re strong, baby. You’ll get through this. I know you will. And I will be there for you. From the stories you told me about your troubled childhood and the trials and tribulations you endured, you will walk away from this hell too.”
Clyde took a deep breath. “I know.”
Luca smiled. “You will.”
Luca decided to turn on the television for them to watch. She spent the entire day with him. When he needed something, she didn’t hesitate to get it for him or help change his colostomy bag or wipe him down. She became his private nurse. She tried to bring some humor and conversation into the room, but it started to feel forced.
Clyde was in and out of it. He would sleep mostly, and when he was awake, he just wasn’t himself. Even though it was understandable that he was going through a lot, it still felt unreal.
When she looked out the window, the streets were covered with snow, making it look like a winter wonderland. Her car was going to be submerged in it. It was agonizing to think about walking and traveling in the blizzard with her fashionable boots, so she decided to stay the night with him and make herself comfortable in the room, the mountain of snow outside holding her captive.
Luca paid off the head nurse for permission to stay overnight and then nestled herself into the tight, restricted visiting chair and tried to make herself at home. She folded herself into a comfortable position and gazed up at the mounted TV on the wall. The evening news was showing, the sound on low.
Clyde was sleeping again. The nurses regularly entered the room to check on his vitals, and the orderlies came and went, performing their non-medical duties in the room.
There was a weather advisory broadcasting. A significant winter storm was occurring and was becoming an inconvenience to everyone. The highway and roads were becoming unsafe. With six to eight inches of snow expected, it seemed like no one was going home anytime soon. Businesses were closing early, and outside was starting to look like a ghost town.
Luca stood out of her chair and went to the window. She gazed outside, watching city blocks become completely engulfed with whiteness, and traffic on the streets slowing down to a crawl. She couldn’t see her own car from the window.
The storm was chaotic but beautiful at the same time.
The weather seemed to mirror her life. She was in a storm herself. She was a falling beauty, highly intelligent, great to look at, but also a woman who caused havoc on so many people’s lives, changing the scenery in the drug game and on the streets, like the blizzard outside.
She lingered by the window for a long moment, thinking about how this life would end for her.
The snow had taken over for a moment. It had everyone’s attention as it conquered the whole city. Eventually, though, it was going to melt and disappear and be forgotten until the next snowfall.
Luca didn’t want to melt or be forgotten. She didn’t want to just disappear like melting snow. She needed to rebuild. She also needed an exit plan from the hostile world she was thrust into not long ago. Having become the dominant bitch in the drug game, she had to be smart enough to know that, sooner or later, everything comes to an end. Even life itself.
Chapter 2
The raunchy lyrics to “Diced Pineapples” blared throughout Crazy Legs, the seedy strip club in Newark, New Jersey. The place was swollen with people, mostly the city’s locals, thugs, and drug dealers trying to enjoy themselves. Over a dozen half-naked strippers strutted around the dimly lit club trying to make their money and entice the men ogling at their bodies. It was Sodom and Gomorrah behind the walls of Crazy Legs.
On stage, an endowed chocolate-coated stripper with balloon tits and a sultry look worked the long pole centered in the middle of the stage. Wearing only a pink G-string that her phat ass swallowed up, she twirled around the pole like a gymnast, showing off her flexibility and strength. She was beautiful with her smoky eyes, glossy lips, long, dark hair, and thick, dark eyebrows. Both her arms and the small of her back were swathed with tattoos, and she danced in her stilettos like she was wearing sneakers.
Watching her from across the floor and sitting alone and in silence was World. He sat in the darkest area, almost consumed by the shadows in the corner. He was unapproachable from everything happening, his eyes transfixed on some pussy.
A little tipsy, World took a sip from his beer and slouched in his seat. Wearing all black, he had a concealed 9 mm in his waistband. He got the gun through security by passing the tall, beefy bouncer at the door five hundred dollars to ignore the weapon. World refused to go anywhere and not carry his gun. He was a marked man with enemies coming at him from every direction.