Innocent 3

Leo Sullivan

Sujets

• Urban Books

Informations

• Publié par: Sullivan Group Publishing, LLC
• Date de parution: 25 juin 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781946789549
• Langue: English

Extrait

© 2019
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the author or publisher. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 16+ only.
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Contents



Acknowledgments


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15


To Be Continued…

About the Author

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I’d like to dedicate this book to you, my fans.
Thank you for your unending love and support.
Acknowledgments

First I would like to thank God Almighty for blessing me with the ability to write and for guiding me on my literary journey. There is wisdom in words that can empower others to think.
I would like to thank my mama, a single Black parent for doing the best she could to raise me, her only child. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her and reminisce about the wonderful times we shared.
“Dear Mom, I miss you so much and it still hurts. May your soul rest in peace and your spirit continue to comfort me.”
To my best friend and confidant, Taya R. Baker. Thank you for being the cornerstone of my life. There is something about our friendship that mystifies people, even myself. You have been with me through thick and thin. When I couldn’t walk you carried me, when I was wrong you corrected me. You showed me a facet of myself that I learned later was humility and dignity. A mirror image of yourself that is a reflection of me whenever I look into your eyes. LOVE YOU TAYA B!!!!
God sent me this sista, this Queen of the underground networking. She has promoted the hell out of my books—Camille Renee Lamb, a dear friend who always seems to come right on time.
You keep me on my toes… Thank you Queen!
Okay, I kept the best for last. Thank you to the ladies of Leo’s World for all your support and words of encouragement. Renee Lamb, Erica
Blackbutterfly Hale, Kenisha Parker, Dee Boggess,
LaTonya LaLa Garrett, Maricela Edwardsgirl Cao, Nicole Santa Cruz, Joy Hammond Nelson, Tonya
Abbott-simpson, Jacole Coco Laryea, and Travella Elder.
And to my fans, without you, there will be no me…THANK YOU!!!
To Jimmy Smith and my l’il nigga Jamel Shields in feds, keep yo head up. I love you bro! To all my brothers on lock, “Keep your head up.”
Peace & Blessings!!!
Innocent’s Revenge
1
I still couldn't shake it.

I was standing at the toilet taking a piss when the cell door opened wide with a metallic clang! Someone had invaded my space. I looked over my shoulder and saw none other than Silverstein, the most feared white man in the chain gang. He was the infamous leader of a white supremacy group known as the Aryan Brotherhood.
His presence filled the cell as he held his tool at his side, a two foot long shank. A sliver of light gleamed off its sharp edges. He was flanked by at least ten of his goons. White dudes with pink angry faces littered with tattoos, like scary clowns.
He took a step towards me and I felt my heartbeat accelerate; my pulse quickened. A trickle of piss ran down my leg and all over the toilet seat. Instantly, my body went into flight or fight mode. In the chains gang, it’s called fuck or fight mode, but with Silverstein it was more like fight or die mode. I took several steps back, and searched for a way to fight my way out. There was none, and I didn't have my joint with me; it was stashed under the bunk. Silverstein had come for me, just like he said he would, and had caught me slipping, bad! We had a history and it was personal. We had never been friends, only foes. In the past, I had slaughtered two of his goons in revenge for him killing my nigga Lobo. Prior to that, Silverstein had killed half a dozen black men, and for good measure, when they placed him in Super Mix, a high security prison in Colorado, he killed two prison guards. It was inevitable that we'd cross paths, like two speeding locomotives headed straight for each other on a one way track.
As always, these were his type of odds; ten against one on a black man. I knew the only chance I had to defeat him, was to out think him. So I went for the mental gambit, his white Aryan pride.
“It takes all of y’all scary ass fake AB, crackas to come in here and fade me!"
I braced myself and looked Silverstein square in the eyes, "If it wasn't for them fake ass AB's helping your bitch ass, I'd fuck you up—.”
Before I could get the words out of my mouth, his goons tried to rush through the cell door to get at me. He shoved them back; his enraged face was beet red. I had just disrespected their sect.
With his top lip snarled, teeth bared like some beast of prey, he raised his shank, and eased towards me in battle mode posture. I could tell by the arch in his back, and the way his muscles flexed, that he was studying me; my proximity, my vulnerability.
In a gritty tone that sent a slight shiver down my spine he said, "Nigger it's just me and you, and I swear on my Aryan brotherhood blood, I'm gonna chop your black ass into so many tiny pieces. So small, that they'll use a broom to get your ass off the floor."
He charged me like a ram, and screamed his warrior cry as he swung the shank! It whistled past my head as I dodged and bobbed out of the way on the balls of my feet. I moved with agility, motivated by fear and the sheer will to survive.
I timed him perfectly, hitting him square on the bridge of his nose with a wild over hand right that sent him staggering backwards. Stunned and dazed, but unhurt, the punch opened up a gash on his nose that spewed blood. I needed to make it out the cell.
He charged me again, shank in hand, swinging wildly. We collided. His brute force was more than I had expected. I manage to grab his hand that held the shank as we tussled in death throes. My bare feet slid across the slippery floor. He outweighed me by at least fifty pounds, but somehow, I was able to use his weight to my advantage.
When he reached back to stab me, I grabbed his shirt collar, pulled him into me, and head butted him hard across his battered nose. Simultaneously, I kneed his nuts. His eyes exploded with pain. I heard him grunt as the impact of the blow lifted him off his feet. In my peripheral, I saw his goons inching close as he staggered away from me. I heard the ruckus made by their disgruntled shouting. In my mind, I was thinking that I still needed a way out the cell. Again, Silverstein swung the shank, this time he aimed for my face. In a nick of time, I threw up my arm to ward off the blow. The shank pierced my hand. Surging white pain ran through my body. He reached back to stab me again as he hollered with murderous rage!
I dropped low to the floor, and scooped him high off his feet, just as the shank missed my face and hit the wall. I slammed him hard on the concrete floor, head first, like he had been thrown out a ten story window and landed on top of him. We fought like crabs in a bucket of blood, as blood began to pour from the back of his head
All the while, I could see his devil buddies inching closer; anxious and ready to pounce on me. Suddenly, I could feel Silverstein getting stronger as we fought to the death. He got off a blow, hitting me in the face with an open hand. Iron fingers like a dead man’s claws, began to gnaw at my face. He tried to gouge out my eyes as I struggled to hold on to his wrist with the shank in it to keep him from stabbing me. My grip was slipping from the blood coming from the open wound in my hand.
The devils continued to inch closer...
He managed to land a right hand to my chin. I momentarily saw stars. My bloody hand was slipping off his wrist that held the shank, as he bucked, trying to throw me off him. He was still getting stronger by the second as my hand continued to slip off his wrist.
I needed to do something and I needed to do it fast! I desperately tried a different tactic by stretching my body flat across his. I curled my leg under his. Using my forearm, I placed my elbow under his chin, onto his windpipe and pushed hard, cutting off his breathing. As he began to choke, gag and thrust, I saw it in the dark pools of his eyes; panic, death was about to come knocking at his door. I wrestled the shank out his hand, this time it was me that roared like an African Warrior covered in gory blood. My conquest would be his demise.
Death!
I reach back to stab him, then it happened, his AB buddies jumped me. I should have known! I struggled to get up and thwart their assault, bu