by K'wan
“Easy homie,” Snake Eyes butted in. “This nigga here is a ghetto superstar. He got more stripes than most niggaz in the game, and he still here to talk about it. That shit in itself is a blessing. There comes a time in a man’s life where he just gets tired, and I guess the homie loc has reached that point.”
Some of the homeys thought it odd that Snake Eyes was speaking up for Lou-Loc. They figured that it was because of there long standing friendship and them both being from killer Cali, but it was much deeper than that. Lou-Loc had wanted to get out of the game for a long time, and Snake Eyes was well aware of that. They had many discussions on the topic, and he felt his friend’s pain. This was one of the main reasons that Snake’s father had helped Lou-Loc wash some of his money.
“Listen,” Lou-Loc started, “it’s like this. I’m always gonna be a Crip, that’s just a given. But as far as being active in the field, that shit is over. I’ve killed many a man, and caused many a man to get killed. I’ve put in enough work to earn my freedom. Straight like that.”
“Straight like nothing.” B.T. said harshly. “We all know, when you get in a gang it’s for life. This ain’t no fucking job where you can put in your two weeks notice.”
“Ay, watch ya mouth, nigga,” Top checked him.
“Nah,” Lou-Loc said waving Top off, “let the homie speak.”
“Look,” B.T. continued, “all I’m saying is this shit ain’t kosher. You come all this way to build up your street credibility, and now you just wanna walk away? This shit don’t sit right wit me, cuz. Maybe the things niggaz is saying is true.”
“Like what?” Lou-Loc asked defensively.
“Well,” B.T. sighed, “word is that you done hooked up wit Diablo’s lil sister. Niggaz is saying that this slob ass bitch got ya nose open. What up wit that shit?”
The tension in the air had suddenly become very thick. The knowledge of Lou-Loc and Satin’s relationship was limited to a select few. Sure, some of the homeys had seen them together, but no one had ever questioned it. That was Lou-Loc’s business. By trying to put Lou-Loc on blast, B.T. was asking for trouble. There had always been bad blood between the two, but it was always kept to ranking on each other. B.T. was testing Lou-Loc, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Why don’t y’all niggaz just chill?” Snake Eyes said placing his hand on B.T.’s shoulder.
“Man, fuck that.” B.T. said jerking away from Snake Eyes. “Nigga, I don’t even know you like that for you to be making suggestions. Only reason ma fucka’s in the hood even gave you a little respect is because Lou-Loc said you was cool. Shit, the way this nigga acting, I’m starting to question his judgment.”
Lou-Loc’s eyes became dark and glassy. Pop Top and Snake Eyes had seen this look in his eyes before, so they stepped back. It was a look that only came over him when he felt a nigga needed to be taught a lesson.
“Listen, B.T.,” Lou-Loc said through clenched teeth, “I don’t think you really know what’s up, so I’m gonna clarify it for you. Satin is my shorty, period. Yeah, I know her brother is a mark ass nigga, and always gonna be one but that ain’t on her. She a square and ain’t got nothing to do with this war or me wanting to get outta the game. If you was down from the gate like Snake and Gutter instead of a lil know nothing ass nigga, you’d know this. As far as who I’m wit, and why I’m wit em, that ain’t none of your never mind. Let this be the first and last time I gotta remind you of that, cuz.”
B.T. matched Lou-Loc’s stare without blinking. He was a bad ass nigga in his own right. If Lou-Loc wanted to get stupid, he’d have got down with him. As tough as he was, he didn’t want no drama with Lou-Loc if he could avoid it. But B.T. being the type of nigga he was, he couldn’t allow Lou-Loc to play him in front of the crew. “Let me tell you something,” he said putting his finger in Lou-Loc’s face, “I ain’t scared of you, nigga. I know who you are and how you do, so the respect is there, but don’t you think for a fucking moment that I wouldn’t hesitate to put something in yo ass. This is New York, and we don’t play that ol...”
That was as far as he got. Once again, the beast had reared its head, and Lou-Loc was in battle mode. He grabbed B.T.’s finger and snapped it like a twig. High Side moved to break it up, but Lou-Loc moved with near inhuman speed. With his free hand he pushed High Side sending him skidding a good five feet. All of the homies looked on in shock. High Side outweighed Lou-Loc by at least twenty pounds, but Lou-Loc tossed him like a small child. B.T. opened his mouth to scream, but Lou-Loc silenced him with a straight jab to the lip, busting it wide open.
“Now you get this straight,” Lou-Loc snarled at his bleeding opponent, “I’m through wit this shit. It’s little fuck ass niggaz like you that’s fucking the game up now. I’m done, you fucking hear me? I want my life back and ain’t no body gonna stop me from being happy!”
All B.T. could do was cough blood and shake his head. He wanted to put on a show for the homies, but he had no intentions on setting Lou-Loc off. He knew the man’s reputation for killing and wondered if he would be the latest addition to his list of kills? Luckily for him, Snake Eyes took Lou-Loc’s arm and pulled him away.
“That’s enough, old friend.” Snake Eyes whispered. “He ain’t worth it. You free, my nigga, and I’ll back you on that. Let it go and live your life.”
The sound of Snake Eyes’ voice seemed to bring Lou-Loc back from where ever he had been. The madness had receded, and he was himself again, at least for the moment. Lou-Loc looked around at the sea of frightened faces and felt ashamed of what he had done. These were supposed to be his peoples, yet instead of understanding, he saw only fear. He knew it was time for him to get out.
“I’m sorry.” He said addressing his peoples. “We’re supposed to be down for each other, and look what the fuck I do. I’m an O.G., and I ain’t supposed to conduct myself in this manner. I’m supposed to be showing y’all younger G’s a better way, but instead I personify the old ways, the violent ways. This ain’t how it’s supposed to be,” Lou-Loc sounded defeated. “After tonight, it’s a wrap for me, cousins. I’ll always be a Crip, and I’ll always love y’all niggaz, but I’m done with this shit. Pop Top will be the acting leader of Harlem Crip until Gutter recovers. I’m trusting you with this shit because I know you can handle it. Do the right thing, cuz.”
“Hey, you know I will.” Top said grinning. He had finally got his chance to hold the reigns of power, and he intended to run with it.
“One last thing,” Lou-Loc said raising his hand. “This mutha fucka,” he pointed at B.T., who was still rolling around on the ground, “he ain’t fit to run shit. He still Crip cause that’s his right, but he will no longer be a set leader. From here on let it be known that B.T. has been stripped of his rank and title. Top, I don’t give a fuck who you get to replace him, but he’s a fucking nobody on set, ya dig?” Pop Top nodded. “I wish you niggaz all the best that life has to offer after I retire. Call on me for guidance when ever you feel necessary. The homey Snake can tell you how to reach me. Now let it be done.”
All of the lieutenants who were still able to stand gathered around Lou-Loc and embraced him. They were sorry to see their homey step down, but they knew that’s what he wanted, and they respected his wishes. Lou-Loc had nothing left to prove. In the years during his run, he had held the set down and put in much work. In all their eyes, Lou-Loc was a stand up nigga. If he wanted his freedom, he was more than welcomed to it. He’d earned it.
*
In another part of town, everything was all good. The giant staggered out of the East Village pub with two young girls on his arm. He had spent a good part of the night, as well as his bank roll, on the girls getting toasted in the bar. He had big plans for the two.
Whether they wanted to or not, he planned on fucking.
Being that he was too drunk to perform the task, he decided to let the older of the two girls drive while he freaked off in the back seat with the other. He handed the first girl the keys and watched her shapely little a
ss as she climbed behind the wheel of the hog. Next, he let the other girl into the back seat, and started around the other side to get in. In his mind, he went over the various demeaning tasks he would have them perform.
As a young man, The giant never had much luck with women. He was an oversized teenager, who wore hand me down clothes. His shoes would always be busted at the seams because of his oversized feet, and his clothes were always too small. The kids had called him all kinds of cruel names, from tree trunk, to mighty-tighty and these were some of the nicer names. When El Diablo found him, he was a poor brawler, who fought for money in back room bars and underworld basements. El Diablo took pity on the young man and gave him a job. No longer would The giant have to wear hand me downs or fight in back rooms just to eat. El Diablo had made him somebody, a man of power and standing. For that, he would be forever grateful.
As The Giant made his way around the car, he didn’t notice the vehicle speeding towards him from the opposite direction. As soon as he stepped into the street, the car clipped his leg sending his large body flying over the trunk. The giant landed hard on the curb with a sickening thud. The two women jumped from the car wailing like banshees. All traces of the liquor they had consumed were gone as they looked upon the twisted hulk lying on the sidewalk. He lay sprawled on the ground with his leg twisted at an odd angle. He didn’t scream, nor did his cry. The pain was too intense for him to utter a sound. As consciousness fled him, his last thoughts were how would he serve his boss as a cripple?
CHAPTER 22
B.T. sat in the emergency room looking at his twisted finger, waiting to be seen. Lou-Loc had done him dirty, and it was his fault. If he’d just kept his mouth shut none of this would’ve happened. Whether he was right or wrong, Lou-Loc was going to get his.
With his good hand, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Yo, what up?” He said into the receiver. “This B.T., kid. Peep game; remember that thing we talked about? Well, the nigga done finally played him self. It’s time for our boy Lou-Loc to take a nap, permanently.” The caller said something on the other end to which B.T. nodded in approval and ended the call. He felt a little better about every thing now. He had probably lost the use of his finger, but it was okay. Before the night was over, Lou-Loc would lose his life.
*
Lou-Loc sat in the passenger seat puffing a blunt while Snake Eyes drove. He felt a little fucked up by what happened, but B.T. asked for it. If he hadn’t tried to be a big shot... Fuck it, it wasn’t his problem anymore.
“What’s on ya mind, player?” Snake Eyes asked as they pulled up in front of White Castles.
“Ain’t nothing, just thinking,” Lou-Loc exhaled the smoke. ”Man, I can’t believe I’m finally getting out. This shit don’t even feel real to me, cuz!”
“It’s about fucking time, nigga. You can’t run the streets forever. Eventually, the shit catches up with you. Just be glad you’re getting out on two feet instead of on ya back.”
“I know that’s right,” Lou-Loc gave Snake Eyes dap.
“So what you gonna do, cuz?”
Lou-Loc shrugged. “I can’t say for sure what the future holds, but for right now me and Satin are gonna get outta the city. I figure me and Satin can get a lil place somewhere and trying to focus on living the right way.”
“Well I’ll be headed down to Miami soon to start work at my dad’s firm. Maybe you could come down and work part time for him until you finish school,” Snake Eyes suggested.
Lou-Loc chuckled. “Cuz, you know damn well I ain’t about to get no job, but Miami move don’t sound like a bad idea. The weather is always nice and the property ain’t too expensive. I’m sure Satin would love it.”
Snake Eyes was silent for a few moments. “Can I ask you something, cuz?”
“Go ahead, man. You know you my nigga.”
“You and this girl serious?”
“As a heart attack, cuz. I don’t know why everybody is tripping off me and Satin hooking up, like I’m some kinda fool,” Lou-Loc said defensively.
“Lou-Loc calm down. I know you ain’t nobody dummy, but you’ve only known this girl a lil while. All I’m saying is that maybe you’re rushing it a bit, like with Martina.”
Lou-Loc looked at his friend seriously. “Snake, these are two totally different situations. Let me tell you something about love homie; there ain’t no instructions or early warning signs to this shit. When you find somebody and it happens you just know.”
“Yea, Lou. I can dig it. As long as you happy, I’m happy for you.”
“And that’s why you’ll always be my nigga.”
The two friends shared a manly hug right there in front of White Castles. They didn’t care who was looking or what they thought. To them, it was the end of an old life and the beginning of a new one. But their precious moment was short lived as a car screeched to a halt behind where they had parked their car.
“Ay, which one of y’all niggaz is Lou-Loc?” someone shouted from inside the car.
Without even thinking, Lou-Loc stepped forward. “You know me, cuz?” For an answer, the back windows of the car slid down, and all that could be seen were the flashes from gun muzzles.
Snake Eyes was the first to react. He dove and knocked Lou-Loc to the ground. Before Lou-Loc could clear his gun from his belt, Snake Eyes was already on one knee firing his .380. His bum leg didn’t hinder his aim at all as his bullets slammed into the car shattering its windows and striking one of the gunmen.
The driver tried to peel off, but Lou-Loc stepped out into the middle of the street. Seeing his target the driver stepped on the gas in an attempt to mow Lou-Loc down. Snake Eyes shouted a warning but if Lou-Loc had heard him he gave no indication of it. He stood there smirking as the car sped towards him for the kill. At the last possible second Lou-Loc leapt into the air, smashing into the windshield and rolling over the hood. The driver thought he had surely finished Lou-Loc, but found out different when the rear windshield shattered. He looked over his shoulder and saw Lou-Loc clinging to the back of the car, laughing insanely trying to get a bead on him with his gun.
The terrified driver swerved from side to side trying to dislodge Lou-Loc from the vehicle but he held tight. Lou-Loc dumped shot after shot into the car, shattering the windshield and sending shards of glass flying into the driver’s face, temporarily blinding him. His vision cleared just as the car was jumping the curb on course to slam into a street light. The impact slammed the driver’s head into the steering wheel, dazing him, and totaling the car and sending Lou-Loc flying over the car. The driver drifted in and out of consciousness, trying to ignore the pain of the dashboard that had been forced into his chest on impact. He could hear people screaming and the faint sounds of sirens in the distance coming ever closer. He was in bad shape from the crash, but at least he had succeeded in killing Lou-Loc.
Through the smoke billowing up through the busted radiator the driver could see movement and he thanked God that help had arrived. Any hope that he’d had in his heart abruptly died when his vision cleared and he saw that the figure moving towards him wasn’t a paramedic, but Lou-Loc. His mind told him that it was impossible for Lou-Loc to have survived the crash, but there he was, limping in his direction and slipping another clip into the pistol. The driver had heard the stories about the legendary resilience of the man who refused to die, but dismissed them as exaggerated stories. Seeing it first had he wondered if there was some truth to Lou-Loc’s pact with the devil.
The driver tried to scream for help, but because of his broken ribs couldn’t find the breath to do so. He lay there helpless, watching his intended target yank the door from the hinges. Pain shot through the driver’s chest as Lou-Loc snatched him from the vehicle and threw him roughly to the concrete. He opened his mouth to try and barter for his life, but when Lou-Loc shoved his gun down his throat he knew it was pointless. The driver had rolled the dice and lost.
Lou-Loc leaned in close enough for the driver to see the unnatural glint i
n his eyes. “When will you amateurs learn?” Lou-Loc asked before pulling the trigger and putting the driver’s brains on the curb. After the adrenaline had worn off and the tainted blood was no longer flowing through his veins, the severity of Lou-Loc’s injuries kicked in. He dropped to one knee clutching his ribs, which felt like they were busted. He would be in a world of pain for the next few days, but he would live, which was more than he could say for his would be killers.
Snake Eyes came hobbling across the street, gun drawn, and ready to finish the men who had killed his friend. He couldn’t hide the shock on his face seeing that Lou-Loc had no only survived but killed the assassin. “Damn cuz, I thought they finished you.”
“These novice mutha fuckas can’t do nothing with me, Snake.” Lou-Loc tried to stand but it felt like his legs wouldn’t support his weight.
“We gotta get you to a hospital,” Snake Eyes said urgently, helping Lou-Loc to his feet.
“Fuck a hospital, man. Just get me outta here before the police come,” Lou-Loc leaned on his friend for support and they made tracks for the car. When they were safely away from the scene of the car Lou-Loc turned to his comrade. “Cuz I done had enough of this shit. How soon do you think we could make moves for Miami?”
*
Satin paced around her loft fuming. Her earlier encounter with El Diablo had her shaken. She didn’t know whether to be angry or afraid. El Diablo had always been stubborn, but never unreasonable. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” she asked no one in particular. Michael must’ve been out of his mind to get up in her mix like that. Satin reasoned that she was a grown woman, and could fuck whom ever she chose. Be it Lou-Loc or the man on the moon. It was her pussy and her heart.
She touched the sore spot on her cheek where her brother had slapped her, and it only fueled her anger. She wasn’t hurt by the slap itself, but it was the fact that he had even been bold enough to raise his hand to her at all. In all her years, neither Michael nor any other man had laid hands on her. One guy she had dated a few years back had grabbed her arm, and that alone landed him in the hospital with a broken nose. Satin might have been petite, but she was far from fragile. Michael had enrolled her in martial arts classes when she was young, so that she would always be able to defend herself.