Teri Woods - Angel's Revenge

“On the real, though. Y’all know why we’re here. To make sure Roll’s thirty-fifth is a night to remember, right?”

“Fo’ sho!” the crowd agreed.

“Yo, Roll! Roll! Get yo’ old ass out here and holla at your peoples!”

The crowd shouted for Roll, and a few moments later, he was onstage with Leslie, dressed in an Armani suit, black silk shirt, derby gators, and Dutch’s dragon chain. Leslie was at his left in a tight-fitting purple Prada dress. Nitti stood to his right. Angel’s eyes fell on the chain.

“Aiight, aiight. Y’all know the routine! Y’all ain’t too big to sing my man happy birthday, are you?”

Angel started singing and the crowd joined in.

Roll was feeling himself as he surveyed the crowd, like a politician before his supporters. The world was his. Every nigga in front of him would kill for him, and there wasn’t a bitch in the house whom he couldn’t fuck. Except for Angel. He couldn’t even fuck with her, as he would soon find out.

The song ended with cheers. Goldilocks, Capo, and the wolves passed out bottle after bottle of Cristal.

“Yo, we gonna pass these bottles out for you to drink. I want you to share ’em with your friends. There’s enough for everybody,” Angel said into the mic. “Yeah, everybody make sure you got a bottle because we gonna toast my man!”

Once all the bottles were handed out, Goldilocks brought out a bottle of Remy Martin for Angel.

“Roll, ever since I came home, you ain’t shown me nothin’ but love, yo, and I appreciate it. To Roll. May this birthday be the best one yet!” Angel chimed as she held up the bottle of Remy.

“Happy birthday, Roll!”

The bottles turned up and everybody in the club got tipsy. No one noticed that the females weren’t drinking Cristal. They were all drinking Remy.

“Come on, Roll. Let’s take our party to the VIP lounge,” Angel suggested, and they made their way to Roll’s office.

Angel, Leslie, Roll, Nitti, Goldilocks, and Capo entered Roll’s plush office overlooking the club. Roll closed the door.

“Angel, I’m feelin’ this party you put together for a nigga. Word. I won’t forget it.”

“I know,” Angel chimed.

“And yo,” Roll began, sitting on the couch and lighting a cigar, “I got a surprise for you. Your man Roc? I just made a move that I know is gonna break his shit up.”

“Later for that. Right now, let’s discuss the future,” Angel said as she held up her hand and popped a bottle of Cristal.

Angel seductively slid over to Nitti and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Roll, your man Nitti here is my kind of nigga…” She caressed his cheek, tracing the scar on his chin.

“Damn, Nit,” Roll responded with more than a tinge of jealousy. “I thought it was my birthday.”

“You’ll get your turn, boo,” Angel assured him, eyes dancing over Nitti. He eyed her back, licking his lips. “What’s the deal, ma? You tired of bein’ a vegetarian?”

Angel snickered and held the bottle under his mouth, tracing his bottom lip with her index finger.

“Slow down, baby. Drink to Angel,” she said as she tilted the bottle against Nitti’s mouth. He drank until she lowered the bottle. She wiped his mouth and kissed him gently.

The kiss of death.

She turned her attention to Roll and poured some champagne on the floor.

“To my niggas who ain’t here.”

She toasted to herself, thinking of Dutch, Zoom, Shock, Craze, and Roc. “This game is ours.”

Roll held up his cigar.

“Ours,” he repeated and Angel laughed in his face.

“Ohh, Roll. You’re such a fuckin’ joke,” she spat.

“Joke?” He frowned.

“A fat, stupid, trick-ass-”

“Bitch, is you drunk? Who the fuck you talk-” Roll began, but the look on Nitti’s face caught his attention.

His face was twisted like he had just tasted something bitter. When he grabbed his stomach, Roll knew something was wrong. “Nitti? You aiight?”

Nitti couldn’t speak. His throat muscles tightened like he was throwing up but nothing came out.

“Do he look aiight?” Angel laughed triumphantly.

Nitti fell to his knees as green mucus bubbled out of his mouth and nose. Roll jumped to his feet. Goldilocks and Capo whipped out pistols and pointed them at him.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Roll asked, rushing to Nitti’s side.

Nitti’s insides were on fire like he had swallowed hot lead. He collapsed to the carpet, dead.

“This the new millennium, Roll. Gangstas don’t bust guns no more. We just let you kill yourselves!” Angel declared, pulling out a.38 revolver. “You ever play chess, Roll? You ever seen the queen checkmate her own king?”

Roll shook with rage. “I’ll kill you, you pussy-lickin’ bitch! I’ll murder you!”

Angel ignored his rants and looked at Leslie.

“Leslie, where you going?” Angel asked as she saw Leslie heading for the door out of the corner of her eye.

Leslie had never watched someone die before. She was anxious to leave. “I’m goin-”

“Nowhere, bitch. Nowhere,” Angel calmly ordered and pumped two slugs into Leslie’s voluptuous body. Leslie slumped on the couch, just another expendable pawn.

Roll knew he was next, but he fought not to let his fear show. “You think you can just walk in here and kill me in my own club? You dumb bitch! My whole team is out there! You’ll never make it to the door!” Roll boomed arrogantly, but Angel could smell his fear.

“Your team, huh? Let me show you your team, yo,” Angel replied.

She snatched Roll by the dragon and led him to the window.

She tore down the blinds and gave him a bird’s-eye view of the dance floor. Roll didn’t recognize what was going on at first. To him, cats just looked drunk and slumped at the booths. Then he recognized the bodies strewn on the floor. All of them were sprawled in puddles of green vomit, just like Nitti. He saw a cat stagger and fall while others grabbed their throats and stomachs and vomited up their lives.

“What the…” Roll whispered in a breathless gasp. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Angel had used his birthday to gather all his people under one roof and then eliminated them all at one time.

“What you mean, what? That’s your team, nigga! You ever hear the phrase dead drunk ?” Angel grinned.

Body after body, hustler after hustler, dropped to the floor. Even the deejay was slumped over his turntables, a Busta Rhymes record skipping and repeating itself.

Most of the females had cleared out, although some had been foolish enough to drink the Cristal Angel warned them against.

“See how easy it is, nigga? Throw a party, pop the cork, add untraceable arsenic, and voilá! Tell them that ain’t gangsta,” Angel boasted, pointing at the death scene. “While you were laid up lettin’ Angel handle your business, I ate away at your home, from the inside.”

Roll dropped his head in defeat. “What do you want?” was his only question.

Angel leaned in close to his ear and spoke through clenched teeth, “Nigga, what the fuck you got that I ain’t already taken?”

Roll had nothing to lose. Angel had leaned in too close. Roll lunged for the gun, snatching it out of her hand and shoving her down. He knew he was about to die. His last wish was to take the conniving bitch with him.

He never got a chance.

Goldilocks and Capo riddled his body with so much force, the shots lifted him through the plate-glass window and he dropped like lead to the floor below.

Angel stood up and brushed herself off. “At least he tried, huh?”

Goldilocks and Capo chuckled.

“Let’s finish this shit and be out,” Angel said, looking at the both of them.