Angel fought hard, trying not to let him see her emotions, but it just didn’t work. Roll knew Angel was treacherous, but her return could benefit his team if she played fair. If she didn’t, curtains. For Roll, it was that simple.
Angel held out her hand and shook Roll’s.
“What’s the deal, Roll? Long time no see.” Angel smiled.
“Ain’t nothing,” Roll replied, referring to Angel’s and Goldilocks’s outfits. “I woulda dressed for the occasion, but ah… I ain’t come to party.”
Time was money to Roll, and he didn’t waste either.
“Duke wanted me to holla at you. Now that World is gone, he don’t want no beef, and he hoped you and I could squash it,” she finished, trying to keep her eyes off the dragon.
Roll rubbed his chain. “Well, where Duke at?”
“He chillin’.”
“Chillin’?” Roll echoed.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk. Follow me,” Angel said as she and Goldilocks turned to walk away.
Roll looked at Nitti. They were strapped, and Roll felt shit was legit, so they followed Angel to a storage room in the back of the club. It was empty except for a six-foot-long meat locker. The sounds of the music bounced around the hollow room as Angel faced Roll.
“If Duke was here, he’d want you to know he didn’t want no problems. He inherited World’s territory but hopefully not his beef. He wants you to forget the past.”
Roll looked at Nitti, amused.
“Forget the past, huh? What’s in it for me?”
“A merger. World’s spots with yours. You keep your connect and 30 percent of the profit,” Angel proposed.
Roll momentarily avoided answering, thinking of the 30 percent she had offered.
“Where is Duke, anyway? He shook or somethin’? He lettin’ bitches speak for him now?”
Goldilocks tensed but Angel laughed. “I told you, yo,” she began, then opened the meat locker. “Duke’s chillin’.”
Duke was really chilling. He lay on a bed of chipped ice, wearing Angel’s trademark, a slit throat. His blood tinged the ice pink around his head. Roll’s eyes widened momentarily, then relaxed to normal. It was unexpected, but not a surprise.
“Duke ordered the hit on you, Roll, not Young World. World ain’t know shit about it. He was in Atlanta when Duke put that lame shit down. He was movin’ on you and World because he was the only one who could’ve benefited from a war.”
Roll nodded. “Regardless, ma. World had it comin’. If it was his doin’, he got what he deserved, and if he didn’t, then he couldn’t control his people. Either way, it’s still on World,” Roll replied, and Angel acknowledged his point.
“Well, they both gone now. So now what?”
“I’m sayin’, Duke gone but what about this shit I’m hearin’ about him fuckin’ with some spaghetti heads in Hoboken? They chillin’ too?”
Angel closed the meat locker and leaned against it. “A bunch of fuckin’ nobodies. They ain’t even in the mob. They wish they was down with the mob. Duke was their meal ticket, and they were his middlemen. The mob was charging Duke for protection. And now that Duke’s gone, they’ll go back to jackin’ airport trunks.”
Roll was impressed. Angel was still on top of her game. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t to be fucked with. The deal was sweet, almost too sweet.
“So what you sayin’, ma?”
“I think we’d make better friends than enemies.” Angel smiled wickedly.
“I think me and you should hang out sometime. Get to know one another,” Roll suggested. His tone said he was interested but not yet convinced.
“Time is money, papi.”
“Then we’ll spend some of both,” Roll responded as he and his people turned for the door.
“Roll,” Angel called out. He turned around at the door. “I like your chain.”
Roll chuckled and left with his entourage.
“Fat muthafucka,” Angel hissed to herself.
RAHMAN
CHAPTER SIX
Daddy!” the three tiny voices cried in unison.
Rahman kneeled to receive his three children, Ali, six, Aminah, five, and Anisa, three, as they ran to embrace their father. They smothered him with a collective hug, then he scooped them up in his big arms.
He was free.
He stood with the ominous structure of the federal courthouse in downtown Newark behind him. Rahman had won his appeal and was walking away a free man. He didn’t want his family in the courthouse and opted instead for them to await the decision outside.
“Mr. Rahman Muhammad, you are free to go,” the judge stated. It was a dream come true. Night after night he had dreamed those very words. Yet to hear the judge actually speak them brought tears to his eyes.
Free.
Rahman stepped down the courthouse steps like a slave unsure of his emancipation. For three years he had been told when to eat, sleep, get up, wash his ass, and move. To have his rights restored was truly a divine blessing. He vowed never to forget his ordeal and all he had endured.
Rahman smothered his babies with tears and kisses, “
“
“Welcome home, Abu!” Ali told him, happy to have his daddy back.
Rahman looked up at his beautiful wife standing by their forest-green Escalade. Ayesha was dressed in a flowing powder-blue dress that covered her to the ankles. Her kemar was the same blue, and she wore a veil that covered her face but showed her eyes. The veil wasn’t necessary in Islam, but she had worn the veil for three years because her husband was imprisoned and away from her and their family. It was her own vigil and her way of representing him. Now that he was home, she stripped it away to embrace him with her smile.
He put the children down and pulled Ayesha to him.
“You know we’re not suppose to be out here in public like this,” she said, wanting to hold him in her arms on the spot but knowing they should wait to be in private before hugging and kissing.
“Ayesha, after these past three years, you can’t ask me to wait,” he said, holding her close and hugging her.
“You are my peace,” she whispered in his ear while rubbing her face on his.
Ayesha had maintained a perfect Muslim household. For Rahman’s entire incarceration, she religiously made the journey, first to Lewisburg then to Atlanta, twice a month, flying with her brother and her children. She endured the nasty attitude of racist COs, the violation of her privacy by female COs, and the harassment of the federal prison system to bring her man all her love each time. Not just for him, but for herself as well. Rahman was truly her peace, and after dealing with the trials and tribulations of day-to-day life, she needed her man’s strength and warmth. To have him again in her arms was almost too much to bear. So great was the miracle, so much all at once, all she could do was cry tears of happiness, relief, and most of all love.
“Don’t cry, ma. It’s over. We never gon’ be apart. I’m here, and I’ll never leave you again,” he said, kissing her face all over.
“What’s wrong with Ummi, Abu?” Aminah, the curious one, questioned. Rahman smiled, kissed Ayesha on the
