Angel's Revenge (11 page)

That’s all Nitti needed to hear. He and his driver, Jay, were out the door.

At the Eleganza, Tania sashayed across the floor and rubbed her bare breasts up against Young World from behind. Young World
turned around, annoyed.

“Bitch, get your titties off of me. Do I look like a trick to you? Ain’t your ass supposed to be working?” he arrogantly spewed,
turning away from her, back to Tank.

“But I need to talk to you, World. It’s important,” she insisted.
That’s why you about to get fucked up, muthafucka. See how you like it then
, she thought to herself.

“Talk to me for what?”

“Just let me holla at you before you leave, aiight?” she said, sucking her teeth.

“Yeah, whatever, if I remember.”

“Shit, you won’t never forget,” she mumbled to herself as she walked away.

“Anyway, yo. What was you sayin’, Tank?”

“Oh yeah, they tried to murder that nigga, Roll,” gossiped Tank.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know,” Tank said as he shrugged his shoulders. “All I heard was Roll was comin’ out of Branch Brook and some guys
caught him at the light. Lit his shit up and completely missed,” Tank explained, cleaning a glass.

Young World shook his head.

“Musta been some lame-ass stick-up kids. Fuck was they shootin’, slingshots?”

They both laughed.

“Must’ve been,” Tank agreed.

Young World looked at his watch. “Where is this nigga at? Yo, Tank. Call Duke again. Fuck is this nigga doin’?”

Tank slid over to the phone and dialed Duke’s cell as World had asked him to. He handed the phone to World, who let it ring
until the machine picked up and confirmed that the mailbox was full.

“He still not answerin’,” said World before hanging up.

“Nigga probably laid up with them nasty-ass white girls he be fuckin’,” Tank said, and they both laughed.

World got up from his seat and started for the rear of the club just as Nitti was parking his car outside. World entered the
bathroom and went inside a stall. The toilet wasn’t sparkling clean, but it wasn’t bus-station filthy either. He made a mental
note to cuss Tank out for not keeping it cleaner.

He rolled the toilet paper across the toilet seat, lowered his pants, laid his gun on the floor, then sat carefully on the
seat, making sure he didn’t knock any paper into the toilet. Young World searched his pants for a match so he could light
a blunt while taking a shit.

World thought again about his plans and began organizing his mental notes. Whoever tried to knock off Roll fucked up his plans.
Roll was probably taking extra precautions and would be harder to get at. At least that’s what World thought. Regardless,
as soon as Duke arrived, he planned on getting the ball rolling. The way he figured, he had the element of surprise on his
side. But, in fact, he was the element about to be surprised.

Jay walked into the club, trying to focus in the smoky, cloudy room. He spotted Tania and took a seat at a secluded table.
She quickly made her way over to him and straddled him for a lap dance.

“Where he at?” Jay asked with Tania’s tits jiggling in his face.

“In the bathroom,” she said, grinding and bouncing on top of him.

“Aiight. Nitti’s at the back door. Let him in,” Jay instructed, wondering if it was true what he heard she could do with a
Corona bottle.

“Y’all gonna take care of me, right?” Tania inquired, her green contacts looking like dangling money signs in her pupils.

“Just go let him in and we’ll talk later,” he said, meaning it. She slid off his lap and headed for the back door. Tania looked
around before she cracked it and allowed Nitti to step in.

“He in the bathroom.”

Nitti winked at her, then crept along the wall.

•   •   •

After this shit all over, I’ma marry Lana, have some kids, settle down, do the family thing.
He imagined himself a father, teaching his son how to dribble or having tea with his daughter.

The weed made his thoughts funnier than they were, and he laughed out loud just as Nitti entered the bathroom. Nitti heard
the laugh, checked under the doors and saw Young World’s Timberlands. He smelled the haze in the air. After spotting the gun
on the floor, Nitti smiled. He had truly caught World with his pants down.

Tank watched Tania and knew her trifling ass was up to something. He couldn’t figure it out, but knew something wasn’t right.
He had seen her dancing and then stopping to make her way to the back of the club where she had no business. Then he watched
her re-emerge seconds later, looking as if she had stolen something. Tank moved to the other end of the bar, trying to see
down the darkened hallway. He saw the bathroom door swing closed, but he didn’t see Nitti enter it.

Then he got a good glimpse of Jay, who was headed for the bathroom, too. Tank recognized Jay as one of Nitti’s people and
put two and two together. In the blink of an eye, he snatched the pump shotgun from under the bar and hopped the counter.

“Jay!” Tania screamed, but her voice was swallowed by the music. He saw her frantic expression too late. By the time he knew
to look, Tank was aiming the shotgun directly at him.

Jay didn’t ask any questions. He tried to go for his pistol, but a shotgun blast to the stomach folded him on impact. Tania
and the other girls screamed and ducked, but Tank’s only concern was Young World. He ran for the bathroom.

Inside the stall, World had finished shitting and was about to wipe his ass when he heard the muffled shot in the club. His
ears easily picked out the sound of gunfire from the bass of the music.

Nitti heard it, too, and knew he had no time to waste. He barged through the stall door. Young World found himself staring
down the barrel of a .45 silencer. The game was over and he had lost his crown. He’d never know Lana as his wife or the mother
of his children. He’d never know life without the game. He’d never know life at all.

His last thought was of Lana.
Stay with me, World. Please.

Two shots caught him in the forehead and two more imploded in his chest. He slumped against the wall as Nitti pumped four
more into his body. The lit blunt fell from his hand. He was still breathing and his eyes were still open when he saw Nitti’s
gloved hand lift the dragon chain from his neck.

“You wasn’t rockin’ it right.” Nitti smirked, putting the chain in his pocket.

Tank kicked the bathroom door open, his pump ready to blast. He saw no one, just one of the stall doors swinging open.

“World?”

Tank pushed the bathroom door against the wall to make sure no one was behind it. He looked under the stalls and saw blood
and World’s boots.

“World!” he yelled, running over to the open stall. He grimaced at the sight of World’s bullet-ridden body and his pants around
his knees. He never noticed Nitti, who had been standing on the toilet in the next stall. Nitti knew whoever had the shotgun
had come for World.

Just as Tank turned his eyes from World, Nitti leaned over the stall wall.

“And behind door number two…” Nitti joked as Tank’s eyes widened in surprise.

He fired a bullet into his head and Tank slumped to the floor. Nitti exited the bathroom, leaving an unsolved double murder.

The news of Young World’s death sent shock waves through the streets, and everyone scrambled into position to best exploit
the situation. Teams that had been under his control made new alliances or posse’d up to lay claim.

Duke was no exception.

After the failed hit on Roll, Duke took refuge with Vinnie Z in Hoboken, a town known for its mob ties and strong Italian
community.

“I can’t believe the fuckin’ guy died on the toilet,” Vinnie Z joked. “Since when do gangstas die on toilets?”

“They don’t,” Duke replied, implying that Young World wasn’t a gangsta in his book.

He showed no remorse for his slain friend and ex-boss. In truth, Duke was relieved at Young World’s demise. He was glad to
be out of Young World’s shadow. He felt World had inherited a position he didn’t earn or deserve and being left leaking on
a toilet confirmed it. It was time to make the moves necessary to solidify his position, and Duke planned on wasting no time.
He planned on sending many of Young World’s team with him.

Vinnie handed him a glass of Henny and held his own up. “To the new boss of bosses, eh? Salud.”

Vinnie toasted and they drank to new beginnings. Duke was now the nigga he’d been itching to be. All he lacked was Dutch’s
dragon, and he planned on taking it from Lana. He didn’t realize that Nitti held the chain.

With the mob behind him and the streets at his feet, he felt like the new Dutch. But the mob had been a front for Dutch, and
Duke would only be a front for the mob.

The news of Young World’s death reached Rahman, and he prayed an absentee Janazah prayer for him, a prayer for dead Muslims.
Rahman was devastated because he felt responsible. He questioned himself and his decision not to assist Young World out of
the bind he was in.

“To Allah we belong and to Allah we return,” he whispered to himself, reciting a verse from the Qur’an.

Lana was a mess. She refused to believe that her World was gone, no matter how many times it was explained to her. She waited
for him to come home. She had yet to cry. Her mother and Peaches were worried sick.

“We going to see World?” Lana asked with childlike innocence.

Peaches looked at Lana’s mother.

“Yes, baby. We’re going to see Shahid. But he’s not the same,” her mother answered.

“Why not?” Lana seemed to sing, head cocked to the side. “Is he sick? I hope he’s not sick. I miss him so much.”

Her mother tried to respond, but tears choked her. All she could do was pull her daughter to her bosom and hold her tight.

“Don’t cry, Mommy. We’re going to see World. Aren’t you happy?” Lana smiled.

“He… help her get ready, Peaches,” Lana’s mother said, shaking her head as she left the room.

•   •   •

The wake was held at Whigham’s Funeral Home in Newark. It looked like the president had died and it was his funeral instead
of a local drug dealer’s. Young World was well respected by the street elite. The hustling community showed up in full force
to prove it. Bentleys, Benzes, and multicolored SUVs double-parked in the streets for two blocks. Platinum, diamonds, and
furs seemed to be worn by everyone.

Inside, hustlers mingled and females flirted like it was club night. The life of a hustler was good, but sometimes death was
even better.

Angel and Goldilocks sat at the back of the room, both wearing full-length chocolate-brown minks and dark- brown Gucci shades.
The whispers of Angel’s return burned up the grapevine, but only a few had enough heart to approach her.

“I’m sayin’, you come home and don’t even holla at your peoples?” a hustler named DC playfully remarked as he approached Angel.

“You know how it is, DC. Only fools rush in,” replied Angel.

“I hear that, ma. At least you could give a nigga a hug and introduce me to your friend,” DC signified, eyeing Goldilocks’s
tantalizing frame peeking through her mink.

“The hug ain’t a problem, but, ahhh, I don’t think you’re her type,” Angel replied, squirming out of the embrace.

“Why is that?”

“ ’Cause you ain’t got a pussy,” Goldilocks calmly answered, showing no expression at all.

“Damn, ma. My fault,” he said before turning back to Angel.

“Fucked up how they did World and shit. I know them was your peoples, so I’d hate to be whoever did it,” DC said, trying to
see where she stood. But Angel wasn’t ready to play her hole card yet.

“That’s the game, DC. A bitch did too much time to need this drama in her life. I’m just here to pay my respects.”

“That’s gangsta,” he replied, not believing a word of it. He knew Angel too well. Drama was the bitch’s middle name.

“Well, holla at me if you need anything, aiight?” he said before breaking away.

Angel surveyed the room. A new generation of ballers and hustlers had cropped up in the short time she’d been gone. Many names
had reached her, but no one impressed her in style or reputation. They were all just chasing the crumbs off the table Dutch
left behind. He was more than a legend. He was a spirit that haunted the streets, and every gangsta would be forever judged
by him.

Just wait. We ’bout to take it to the next level. Y’all muthafuckas ain’t ready
, Angel thought as she looked toward the rear door. She watched Duke make his entrance. He had two girls with him, one on
each arm. Straight dimes that even made Angel look twice. Duke was outfitted in an all-white Armani suit and matching Gucci
shoes. He had a gold-tipped cane, and his diamonds twinkled and winked like they were stars in the night sky.

Angel watched Duke closely until he noticed her. Their eyes met through the crowd. Duke acknowledged her with a nod and Angel
did the same in return.

Duke walked up to the casket and peered down at Young World’s body. They had done a lot of work on him to have an open casket.
Young World was sewn together like a stuffed rag doll, but he was dipped. He was to be buried in a black silk Versace suit
with all his jewels except the dragon, which Duke believed Lana was holding. He turned away from the coffin to find Angel
eyeing him. He knew who she was at first sight. He just hadn’t been informed that she was back.
The bitch could change the game
, he thought and wondered if Angel would be a problem. He had every intention of taking over Young World’s fragmented territory
and hoped she wasn’t back to get in his way.
For her sake, she better not be
, he thought.

Lana, her mother, and Peaches came in and scanned the room. People whispered as they watched Lana, the hustler’s wife. Duke
walked up the aisle and hugged her.

“Lana, I’m sorry, ma. I know how you must be feelin’. Sha was my man and I promise you we gonna ride for money. You ain’t
got to worry about that.”

Peaches sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. She could see straight through his facade. She wanted to flip on him, but for
Lana’s sake, she didn’t.