Angel's Revenge Read Online Free PDF

killers wanna stop the violence. But one by one,
     they fail. They fail because when they see they can’t change the world, they join it. And I see it in you, Ock. You want to
     change Angel, don’t you? You think she’ll listen to you? Roll wit’ you on this?” Akbar questioned.
    “Insha Allah,” Rahman replied, not looking at Akbar.
    “And Young World, too? You brought him in. What if you have to take him out?”
    Akbar’s questions ripped away Rahman’s delusions one by one. Everyone he had ever loved, run the streets with, gotten money
     with, even killed with, and would’ve died for, could easily become his enemy. Not because they had changed, but because he
     had.
    He tried to tell himself that Angel and Young World would roll with him. After all, the plan wasn’t only to clean up the community
     but to make millions doing it. His plan was economic as well as social, political, and spiritual. But he knew deep down that
     he was fooling himself if he thought they’d just walk away from the addiction of street life, especially if their hearts were
     still truly in it.
    And if they didn’t walk away, what was he prepared to do?
    “Make no mistake, nephew. You’ve switched sides, not them. So think like a gangsta, but act like a Muslim. To beat a gangsta
     you got to know the mind of one. Because the question ain’t can you do them, but…” Akbar leaned closer to Rahman’s ear, “would
     they hesitate to do you?” Akbar stood up slowly and left Rahman with “
As-Salaamu Alaikum
, nephew. We’ll talk later. Insha Allah.”
    Rahman watched his mentor casually stroll off and disappear in the crowd.
    “Yo, nigga, I’m tellin’ you, that shit is followin’ us,” Young World said as he glanced in the rearview mirror of his CL 55.
     He had been constantly checking his rearview until he was sure that someone was tailing him.
    “Fuck you talkin’ ’bout, followin’ us? Ain’t nobody followin’ us. Nigga, you skitzin’,” responded Duke, World’s right-hand
     man and the only survivor of his original team.
    Duke hit the blunt and tried to pass it to World, who waved it off and made a right-hand turn. He didn’t want to smoke and
     cloud his already paranoid brain cells until he was sure what was behind him.
    “Watch, I told you, yo! That’s the fourth corner in a row they took after us. Paranoid, hell! Niggas think we slippin’ as
     it is!” Duke took a quick peep over his shoulder, weighing Young World’s theory. He reached under his seat and pulled out
     a Mac 11 machine gun, locked and loaded.
    “It’s probably Roll and them niggas he fuck wit’. Fuck this. At the next light, I’m wettin’ they whole shit. Fuck they think,
     shit is sweet?”
    “Naw, naw, chill. I got this,” World answered.
    He suddenly hit the accelerator and the CL’s AMG engine blurred like mercury as they jetted down the street. Whoever and whatever
     was behind them was left eight car lengths back as Young World whipped a quick right then fishtailed left, slinging Duke in
     his seat.
    “Fuck you runnin’ for?” Duke growled.
    Young World didn’t respond. Instead he quickly pulled into a darkened driveway and dropped the headlights. He then pulled
     out a .45 from his waist, looking over his shoulder.
    A few seconds later, the black BMW drove by. Young World backed out, engine kitten-silent. He had flipped the script and was
     now tailing them.
    “At the light, I’ma cut ’em off, see who these niggas are, and if they flinch…”
    Duke nodded. “Say no more.” As they approached the stoplight, Young World hit the gas and swerved around the BMW. Before the
     occupants of the BMW knew what was happening, Young World skidded up in front of them at a nose angle. Duke threw up the door
     and hopped out in one furious motion and threw the nozzle of the Mac in the face of the driver. The four passengers of the
     BMW screamed and ducked.
    “Yo, Ock! It’s Lana and some broads!” Duke hollered over his