by K'wan
“Living for yours.” Snake Eyes jabbed a finger in Gutter’s chest. “For the last few years you’ve had a cause to die for, but now you’ve got something to live for.”
“Snake, you tripping, this don’t sound like the homey that smoked that pig with me and Lou-Loc,” Gutter accused.
“Because I ain’t that nigga no more, I grew up. I got a big house, a fat bank account, and more pussy than I know what to do with; why the fuck would I wanna keep throwing stones at the pen or the grave? Gutter, ain’t a muthafucka living or dead that can question your gangsta or your love for the nation. All blood debts owed have been settled ten times over, except the most expensive one and that’s to your wife and that baby she’s carrying. You ain’t gonna be no good to either of them if you’re dead or in the can.”
“I don’t know if I can just let go like that, Snake. I got a responsibility to the homeys in New York,” Gutter tried to reason.
Snake Eyes scrunched up his face. “Man, you don’t owe nobody a muthafucking thing. You’ve organized one of the most powerful sets, on either coast, and made all them niggaz hood rich. If they can’t maintain without you, then they was some fucking busters to begin with. I love the homeys, Gutter, but I love you more. I’ve already lost one brother because he waited until the eleventh hour to decide he wanted to get out, and I don’t think I could stand to lose another one. Do something with that second chance you’ve been given.”
“I hear you talking, Snake,” Gutter said, mulling over his friend’s words.
“Do more than hear me, Gutter, listen. Take some of that money I’ve been tucking away for you and do something with it.” Snake Eyes stood. “The ceremony will be over soon, so I’m gonna go attend the fam. Listen to your homey, G,” Snake Eyes said over his shoulder as he made his way down the aisle.
THE DOORS to the mosque opened up and people began to file out, some orderly and some not, but all respectful. The LAPD and OSS were posted up across the street trying to be inconspicuous as they snapped pictures. Some of the most notorious gang members in all of California had come to see Gunn off, and they were anxious to match the faces they knew against their extensive database and log the ones they didn’t into new files. It was for this reason that some of the more unsavory characters chose to just send flowers as opposed to attending.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Jamal Ali stepped from the mosque leading the procession. As opposed to a coffin, Gunn was wrapped from head to toe in white linen. Three men on each side wheeled the gurney that held one of the Crip’s greatest heroes. Rahshida brought up the rear, flanked by Stacia and Monifa. Lil Gunn came out shortly after. His face was as hard as ever, but Gutter could tell from his ashen cheeks that he’d been crying, as was his right. Spotting Gutter approaching the quartet, Monifa turned and went in the other direction.
“Hey, Auntie”-Gutter ignored Monifa’s snub and attended to his aunt-“you cool?” He took her hands in his.
“No, but what can we do? My brother is free now,” she said, trying to keep from crying more than she already had.
“That he is,” Gutter said. “Listen, I’m sorry I can’t go with y’all to the vault.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kenyatta, I know how it is.” She glanced across the street at the police and sheriffs. “They’re minding their manners now because they know disrupting the funeral would turn into a riot, but they’re gonna swoop down soon enough. It’s best you not be here when it happens.”
“I know that’s right. Tears is gonna take us to the airport and then come back to the house to join y’all. You need anything before I leave?”
“No, I’m fine, Kenyatta. All I need is some peace of mind.” She sighed. “Nephew, I’m sorry I was so short with you earlier. I’ve just got a lot on me right now. Two funerals in two days is a little more than I’m prepared to deal with.”
“You sure you don’t need me to stay for Rahkim’s ceremony?”
“No, Ken. I don’t want to chance you getting deeper into this than you already are. If the police don’t already know you’re in the city, they will before long. The last thing we need is for them to start playing connect the dots and yours might be an extended stay,” she told him.
“True.” He tugged at his beard. “Well, you know if you need anything I’m just a plane ride away. When all this dies down me and Lil Gunn might fly back out here to check on y’all.”
“Don’t bother, Ken. After we lay Rahkim to rest I’m gonna have Snake Eyes sell our properties out here and I’m leaving L.A.,” she informed him.
“Auntie, if you’re worried about retaliation I can make sure y’all are protected round-the-clock,” he assured her.
“And live like a prisoner in my own home? No thank you. Besides, I’m not leaving because I’m afraid, I’m leaving because I’m tired. Ever since we came to California death has been a constant companion of the Soladines. I need to put this state and all this ugliness behind me.”
“Where will you go?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I was thinking about traveling for a while. Maybe visit Algiers for a few months and settle somewhere down south when I come back. I haven’t quite made up my mind yet… maybe even take a look around Arizona.”
“Well, if you need anything from me just let me know.”
Rahshida smiled and touched his face. “Kenyatta, all I need you to do is be here for your family. Change the way you’re living so your wife doesn’t feel the kind of heartache I’m feeling right now, nephew.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” He recalled his conversation with Snake Eyes.
“Then maybe you should try listening.”
“I just might,” he said honestly.
“Well, we’ve got a little bit of a drive ahead of us so I’m gonna go now, but you be safe, Kenyatta, and know that Allah loves you.”
“I know now.” He hugged her.
“Take care of my nephew, Kenyatta, and don’t let it take another death to bring us back together.”
“I got you, Auntie,” he said, trying not to break down himself.
Rahshida wiped her eyes and started in the direction of the limo. Gutter looked over and found Monifa staring at him intently. He started to say something to her, but decided against it. They had said their goodbyes already, so there was nothing more to discuss. That chapter of his life was closed and he needed to focus on the new beginning with his wife and family. After saying farewell to the homeys, Gutter, Danny, and Lil Gunn climbed into Tear’s truck and headed for the airport.
chapter 43
THE SKY was incredibly blue that morning, seemingly more so than Gutter had ever remembered seeing it. At that altitude the clouds appeared solid enough to walk on, but it was an illusion, as was the temporary peace Gutter felt looking at them. He knew that once he touched down it was back to business.
The flight home went far smoother than the one into Long Beach, but that all depends on whom you asked. Danny-Boy sat directly behind Gutter, trying his best to put the moves on a buxom flight attendant. Though she smiled, Gutter could sense her uneasiness. The innocent part of Danny that first drew Gutter to him was gone, replaced by the taint of a killer and whether he knew it or not, he wore it on his sleeve.
During the ride to the airport, up until just before takeoff, Lil Gunn bombarded Gutter with questions about New York City and the game. When the plane took to the skies all questions ceased, and a look of panic came over the young man’s face. Gutter was sitting next to Lil Gunn, who was a nervous wreck. Every time the plane lurched he looked as if he was going to be sick. When the Boeing finally bounced roughly on the airstrip he heard his cousin whisper a prayer of thanks that he hadn’t perished in the air. Had he gripped the armrest any tighter it was sure to come off.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” the captain’s voice began over the loudspeaker. “We’re now arriving at JFK. The time is four thirty, with the weather being a warm seventy-three degrees. At this time you may power on cell phones and electr
onics. Once again, thank you for flying JetBlue.”
“I never thought I’d be so fucking happy to see the ground,” Lil Gunn huffed.
“Buck up, lil cuz. You’ll get used to it after a while,” Gutter told him.
“Man, fuck that. I ain’t never getting on a plane again. The next time we hit the West we’re driving and I don’t care how long it takes,” Lil Gunn declared.
Gutter laughed and powered on his cell. The digital screen alerted him that he had five new voice mails and two text messages. The homeys, no doubt, wondering if he made it back yet. They were going to send a convoy to receive him, but Gutter declined, assuring them that he’d get with them later the following evening to discuss plans to deal with Major Blood. On his first night back, he intended to devote himself to making sure Sharell was good. Before he had a chance to check the messages the phone was vibrating.
“Speak,” Gutter answered.
“Kenyatta?” Sharell asked in a shaky voice.
“What’s good, baby? I just touched down. Is everything okay?” he asked. She was silent for a minute. “Sharell, you there?”
“Yeah… how was your flight?”
“It was a’ight, but I think Lil Gunn might’ve shitted his pants,” Gutter joked, but the laugh she gave him was half hearted. “Sharell, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I was just worried. How’d things go in California?”
“Not good, but I’ll explain it all to you when I get out there. Sharell, I need to talk to you. Some things are about to change, but for the better.”
“I need to talk to you too, baby,” she told him, her voice still wavering a bit.
“Sharell, what’s wrong with you? Is Pop Top still there with you,” he asked suspiciously.
“Yes, he’s still here, with Hollywood. How soon do you think you can get here?”
“Me, Danny, and Lil Gunn are about to hop in a cab as soon as we grab our bags,” he told her.
“Baby, you’ve been gone for a while and we need to talk about some things,” she tried to choose her words carefully, but her nerves were affecting her thinking. “I need a few minutes alone with you before you get back to business.”
“Sharell, I know you so I know when something is wrong.”
“Gutter, this thing with these people you’re warring with has me scared, please just come out here, Gutter.”
Gutter? Sharell never called him Gutter. Something was off and though he didn’t know what, he intended to find out. “Okay, baby,” he said in a neutral tone. “I’ll send Danny-Boy and Lil Gunn back to Brooklyn to grab some of our personal items. They can meet us in Long Island afterward.”
“Please hurry, Gutter,” she pleaded before the line went dead.
“What the business is, cuz?” Lil Gunn asked, noticing the grim expression on Gutter’s face.
“I don’t know yet. Yo, Danny”-he turned to face his protégé-“I’m gonna get the Charger from the parking lot and I want you and Gunn to hop in a cab to Harlem. Round up the troops and some straps and meet me in Long Island ASAP!”
“What the fuck is going on?” Danny asked, ready to spill more blood.
“I ain’t sure just yet, but I know something is funny. I gotta go check Sharell.”
“Loc, if you’re about to walk into a situation I’m coming with you,” Danny said.
“I don’t know what it is. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if something is popping, we’re gonna need more than just the.40 caliber I got stashed in the car. Just get to me as soon as you can,” Gutter said, unbuckling his seat belt and bull-rushing his way down the aisle.
“YOU DID good, baby girl,” Major Blood sneered. He was standing directly across from Sharell. Satin sat in the chair in front of him with a gun pointed at her head. “In a few hours all this will be over. Play your cards right and you might live through it.”
“You think he’s gonna go for it?” Pop Top asked from the kitchen doorway. He was chomping on a turkey sandwich.
“Oh, he’ll go for it. Even if he does suspect something, he ain’t gonna come in here dumping all crazy with his bitch in the house.” Major Blood nodded at Sharell. “You made the right choice, Top. Better to live as a traitor than to die as a martyr.”
“Pop Top, I always knew you was a scandalous muthafucka, but I never figured you for a rat, cocksucker!” Hollywood barked. He was sitting in a wooden chair near the front door.
Pop Top grinned before slapping Hollywood on his bandaged face. “Shut yo pussy ass up, nigga. Fuck you and fuck Gutter. That nigga got our soldiers dying in the streets over his bullshit. I’m trying to bring the glory back.”
“Glory?” Hollywood snickered through bloody lips. “Nigga, not only are you a fucking turncoat, but you’re delusional too. I might die in this house today, but best believe your ass won’t be too far behind. Gutter is gonna waste you, faggot!”
Pop Top went to swing on Hollywood again, but Major Blood stopped him. “Enough of this bullshit, Pop Top. Gutter will be here soon and we’ve got plans to make. Tito,” Major Blood called to his general who had come to join him after the hit on Rico, “everything set up?”
“Yeah, I got a few nigga spread around the house and a lookout on the corner. As soon as Gutter gets here, we’ll know about it,” Tito informed him.
“Excellent. Eddie”-he turned to his other general-“take all three of these bitches down to the basement”-he motioned toward Satin, Sharell, and Hollywood-“and sit on ’em. Anybody get fly, you know what to do.”
“I got you, Blood,” Eddie said, hurrying to do as he was told.
Major beamed at his perfectly laid plan. “Now, all we gotta do is wait for the guest of honor so we can get the party started. I always fill my contracts.”
GUTTER BURNED up the Long Island Expressway like a man possessed. For the last twenty minutes he had been trying to contact his crew with no results. High Side, Bruticus, C-style, nobody was picking up. He even tried to call Pop Top, only to get the voice mail. He tried to tell himself that he was just being paranoid, but in his heart he knew something was wrong. The next call he placed was to Danny, who confirmed what he’d already suspected, knowing Major Blood and how he operated. Bruticus and C-style were dead and Harlem was in chaos, which only confirmed Gutter’s suspicions that a bad situation had gotten considerably worse. Danny, Gunn, and several more homeys from the set were hot on his heels. They were scheduled to arrive moments after Gutter, but he couldn’t wait for them. He had to get to his wife.
Gutter was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he almost missed his exit. He almost caused an accident as he cut across three lanes and took the ramp at twenty miles above the posted speed limit. The Charger fishtailed; through the grace of Allah he managed to get it under control before wrecking.
The Charger moved almost soundlessly through the Long Island streets, ignoring stop signs and traffic signals. It was a miracle that he didn’t get pulled over en route, but he had made it to the house without incident. As he slowed near the house he saw Pop Top’s Ford in the driveway, along with Sharell’s ruined X5. He was so focused on the house that he didn’t even notice the young man sitting in the Lincoln watching him pass by.
Instead of pulling up in the driveway, Gutter parked on the street. He scanned the house for signs of movement, but didn’t see anything. Checking the clip of his.40 caliber, he slid from the car and moved cautiously up the driveway. Placing his ear to the door he couldn’t hear anything, which was strange. Pop Top was a loudmouth by nature, so the eerie silence unnerved him. When he tried the knob he found the door was unlocked, definitely a bad sign. Sliding a bullet into the chamber he walked into the setup.
chapter 44
EDDIE PACED the basement floor nervously. Through the small window he could see Gutter coming up the driveway with a pistol in his hand. Shit was about to get real ugly, real quick.
“Why the long face?” Hollywood taunted from the chair where he was tied. He craned his neck and saw the bottoms of G
utter’s sneakers. “I see death has come calling.”
“You shut you fucking mouth, crab!” Eddie shouted.
“You know it ain’t too late. All you gotta do is cut us loose and I’ll see to it that you don’t catch the same hell your homeys are about to.”
Eddie looked like he was considering it, then his face went hard again. “I ain’t no fucking traitor.”
“Aren’t you? You know the word is out about Hawk getting killed in Harlem. The UBN might not know off top, but ain’t nothing slow about the big homeys. It’s only gonna be a matter of time before they put two and two together and what do you think is gonna happen then?” Hollywood smiled. The whole time he taunted Eddie, he was working on the phone cord that bound him to the chair.
“Shut up!” Eddie snarled in his face.
“What, you put off by a little truth? Eddie, you and I both know that you’re the low man on the pole, and it’s usually the low man who gets it the worst. Major Blood has got you in a whole world of shit that’s gonna blow up in your damn face. Right now, I’m your only chance. You let us go and Harlem will make sure you get to higher ground before the flood. If not, you might as well put that pistol in your mouth and take the easy way out, pussy, because either way you’re done!”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?!” Eddie lashed out and kicked Hollywood’s chair over, which is what he had hoped. The impact cracked the back of the chair and loosened the phone cord that had been binding his arms.
“Hollywood!” Sharell screamed, drawing Eddie’s attention to her.
“Everybody shut the fuck up!” Eddie clutched his temples. When he turned back to Hollywood he was shocked to see that not only had the man managed to free himself, but was charging in his direction.
Eddie tried to raise his gun, but a swipe of Hollywood’s cast sent it flying across the room. Though Eddie considered himself a tough guy, he couldn’t fight worth a damn. Hollywood delivered a crushing blow to the side of Eddie’s head with the cast, knocking him to the ground.