Gutter

disrespected the G, and we got to C them behind that shit.”

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about.” Lil Gunn took another swig. “I’m ready to ride on these fools!”

“Shut yo lil ass up. You ain’t ’bout no one-eight-seven,” Charlie teased.

“Fuck you. I’ll dump on any Blood or Crip on any set!” Lil Gunn said heatedly. Gaining the respect of the older heads was crucial to him, so he put an extra production on it.

“Quit talking crazy, killing ain’t for children.” Blue Bird nudged him.

“I ain’t been a kid since I joined up. I’m ready,” Lil Gunn declared.

“You serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Blue Bird studied the young man for a moment. He looked into his eyes and saw no fear. The man-child was ready to make his bones.

“A’ight.” Blue Bird nodded. “We ’gon C.”

GUTTER WALKED down the block with his hands tucked firmly in the pockets of his jeans. He was mad, but all of his anger wasn’t directed at Stacia. He knew what kind of woman she was, so he expected her to come out of her face. What really had him uptight was the situation.

His uncle danced on the brink of death, and everything was in total chaos. There were dozens of people visiting him at the house off and on, but they weren’t really helping the situation. Some of them were sincere, while others just talked for the sake of hearing themselves. No one was actually doing anything to make the situation right.

Gunn had love from many sets in California as well as the Midwest, but so far no one had stepped up with a solid plan for retaliation. Even if they had, who would they retaliate against? The word was out that it was the Mad Swans who did the shooting, but no one knew if it was true or exactly who did the shooting. They could ride on the whole set, but that would make things worse. Though Mad Swans and Hoover were from opposite sides there was a mutual respect between their O.G.s and the old-school Hoovers from the seven and the nine. They didn’t have an official truce but had been known to exchange passes. If they went at the whole set without having their facts together it was sure to get real ugly real soon.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Monifa crept up on him. With so many things flooding his mind at one time, he had almost forgotten that she was with him.

“Just thinking how much I miss this place.” He stared up at a palm tree.

“Yeah.” She stood next to him. “There’s something about the West Coast that makes you fall in love with it.”

“True, if you can overlook all the dumb shit that goes on out here. This is the land of the heartless.”

“It ain’t the land, it’s the people that make it this way,” she said, watching a group of young men ride by in a Chevy. “Kenyatta, I’ve been blessed to have seen many different places in my short life, and they all fall short to Cali. This place is both the most beautiful of states, yet the ugliest.”

“Girl, you tripping.” He waved her off.

“I ain’t the one tripping. These niggaz that’s out here terrorizing decent folks and killing off all our young men are the ones that are tripping. Makes you wonder when all this will end.”

“Man, gang-banging ain’t gonna never end.” He stroked his beard. “This shit has been going on since before we were born, and it’s only gonna get bigger. Muthafuckas kill me talking that stop the violence shit. This ain’t gonna end until we wipe them out, or they wipe us out, period.”

“You don’t know how fucking stupid you sound.” She laughed. “Kenyatta, you don’t even believe what you’re trying to feed me. That’s just you trying to be difficult, as usual.”

“Go ahead with that. I’m just stating my case.”

“Well, if that’s your case, then that ass is guilty. Don’t try and front for me, cause I know you, Gutter. When you know someone is telling you right, you throw up this ignorant ass gang-banger persona. Nigga, please.”

“What you talking ’bout, woman? I’m a Crip to the heart. Don’t never forget that.”

“Oh, I would never doubt your love for your hood, but I also know that you’ve never been a dummy. If you were, I would’ve never given you any play.”

“Gave me no play?” He raised his eyebrow. “Monifa, don’t try that. If I recall correctly, you pursued me.”

“That chronic got you all twisted. I wasn’t the one at Universal Studios talking about, ‘Aye, sis. Let me rap to you for a minute,’” she imitated him. “You followed me and my girls around that whole lot, trying to get at me. You were so cute, with your starter kit braids.”

“Fuck you, Mo,” he joked.

“Fuck you right back.”

They both slapped at each other and burst into laughter. He instinctively reached out and touched her hand. It was warm, and smooth as silk. For a second, it was as if they were still teenagers, dating at Jack in the Box. Each one’s eyes shone with lost passion, creating an uncomfortable silence. Monifa’s eyes flashed indifference, and she quickly snatched her hand back.

“Mo…”

“Don’t.” She turned her back to him. “Kenyatta, leave it alone.”

“Monifa… we need to talk about it. There was so much left unsaid.”

“I think you said it all when you left me wondering what happened,” she said, a bit more scornfully than she meant to.

“Mo… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “Shit got a lil crazy. Things happened that I won’t go into, but I had to jet. You know how it get in the hood.”

“Fuck the hood!” she said heatedly. “You’re always putting the hood before me.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” She spun around. “Gutter, please don’t try and feed me some shit that you had two years to mull over. I was supposed to be your girl, Ken. Your heart! ‘Be my forever lady,’ remember that?”

He turned his eyes away.

“Well, I do. You took me to up to Sacramento to celebrate my twenty-first birthday,” she recalled. “We had a beautiful dinner, and you fed me ice cream. Everyone at the restaurant kept saying how cute we were. We went for a walk on the strip and talked about a life together and how you wanted to do right by me. ‘Be my forever lady,’ that’s what you whispered to me… right before you pushed me to the ground and shot that boy, because he was an enemy as you called him. On a night when we should’ve been making love until the sun came up, we ended up fugitives.” She gave a weak chuckle.

Gutter was so overcome with shame that his head felt like a lead weight when he raised it. Tears danced in the corner of her eyes, and he could tell that she was doing all she could not to cry. All she had ever tried to do was love him and he’d shitted on her. He couldn’t help but feel like a real asshole. With some effort, he managed to swallow the grapefruit-sized lump that had worked its way into his throat.

“Monifa,” he began, “I never misled you, or told you anything I didn’t mean. You deserved way better than what I gave you. Believe me, I’ve thought about you and what happened to us ever since I left.”

“Did you think about me when you made that New York bitch your wife?” she spat.

He should’ve seen that one coming.

“Don’t get all quiet on me now,” she continued. “What, you think I didn’t know about her? People talk, Kenyatta. I might be naive, but I have ears.”

“Monifa, let’s just go somewhere and talk,” he pleaded, while reaching for her hand.

“I think we’ve both said enough.” She stepped back. “I ain’t mad no more, baby. But I’m a lot wiser for the experience. See you at the house, Gutter.” Monifa strutted away.

Gutter was about to go after her and tell her how much he’d loved her and how the old feelings still lingered when his cell went off and the name on the screen brought him back to his senses.

“SHE WAS only seven,” Sharell sobbed into the phone.

“Baby, calm down,” Gutter said, not really being in the mood for hormones. “I know you’re upset about what you saw, but that’s why I don’t watch the news, it’s too damn depressing. Look, it’s a damn sad thing when a child is killed, but there ain’t a whole lot we can do about it. All we can do is say a prayer for the little girl and watch over