Reluctantly, Gutter led the entourage from the room and back into the hallway. Everyone looked nervous, but none more so than Lil Gunn. You could see tears in the corner of his eyes, but he wouldn’t allow them to fall. Gutter placed an arm around him and led the youngster into the living room. He tried to convince him that his father would be okay, but he didn’t know if it was more to set the youngster’s mind at ease or his own.
Blue Bird had been helped outside, and held ice wrapped in a cloth against his face. Stacia had appeared from where ever she was and taken up a seat in the living room. In her hand, she held a glass of wine, which she kept swirling between sips. Monifa stood in the corner, dressed in jeans and a tank top. She looked sorrowfully at Gutter, but didn’t approach. The rest of the homeys stood around, trying not to look terrified.
After what seemed like an eternity, Doc appeared in the living room. His scrubs looked as if they had been painted red. Removing his glasses, he looked out over the inquiring faces. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. When he couldn’t hold it any longer, the tears came.
DOC FOUGHT as hard as he could for his mentor, but in the end his injuries proved to be too severe. He might not have been able to prevent his death, but he pumped him so full of drugs that it was painless. It was the least he could do for the man who had literally kept him alive during his stint with the Hoover Crips. When his contact from the mortuary arrived to take the body away, he slipped him a wad of hundred dollar bills, and thanked him for the role he played.
Everyone took the loss of Big Gunn hard, but his son appeared to be hurt the worst. He overturned furniture, and cursed the rival set, while his family looked on. Rahkim made to stop him, but Gutter held his uncle back. The boy needed to let it out, and if this was his way, then so be it. Stacia cried and carried on, between freshening her drinks. For all the bullshit she talked, she still loved Gunn. Everyone except the immediate family and closest friends were asked to leave the house.
Gutter tried to hold it together, but it was too much. With tear-filled eyes, he threw his cell phone against the wall, shattering it. All of the Soladines were close, but he and Gunn shared a special bond. When his father died, his middle brother stepped up and made sure that his nephew was prepared to deal with the ugly world that awaited him.
Rah and the women sobbed as they lit candles around a makeshift altar supporting a picture of Big Gunn in the yard at San Quentin. The sun was just beginning to rise in the eastern sky, blanketing the yard in an orange glow. Rahkim stepped into the backyard, followed by the men who were left in attendance. Danny, Tears, Snake Eyes, and Doc hung back while Rahkim led his family to the front. Three prayer rugs were placed on the grass, which Gutter, Lil Gunn, and he knelt upon. With tears streaking all their cheeks, they made Saullat and asked that Allah accept Big Gunn into his bosom.
chapter 18
BY THE time Gutter rose from prayer, his knees ached and he had trouble walking from the lack of blood flow for so many hours. He bypassed everyone who was gathered in the living room and made his way upstairs to the bedroom. The women cried and sobbed over Gunn’s loss, while the men cursed and vowed revenge against their sworn enemies. None of this moved Gutter. Though he knew he was supposed to be sad he couldn’t find it inside himself, only the cold darkness that came before the storm.
Somewhere along the way he had managed to grab a bottle of vodka. It wasn’t normally his drink of choice, but it would do. He took a long swig, letting the sting cleanse his insides. It felt like a small fire had started in his chest, but it still didn’t help the coldness in his heart. All he wanted was to be alone and reflect on the man who had meant so much to him over the years. With Gunn’s passing Gutter had lost more than an uncle. He’d lost a father, friend, mentor, and icon.
A soft knocking snapped Gutter out of his daze. Ignoring it, he took another deep swig of the bottle and stared blankly out the window. Instead of the intruder taking the hint and going away, he heard the door creak open. Gutter was about to flip over the invasion of his privacy, but the words stuck in his throat when he saw Monifa standing there.
“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said sheepishly.
“It’s all good,” he told her, taking another drink. From the way her eyes were puffy and red he could tell she had been crying. Monifa and Gunn were very close when he was alive.
“I was just trying to get some space to clear my head. I can go somewhere else.” She started back the way she’d come.
“Nah, you ain’t gotta bounce, Mo,” he told her. “Come on in,” he beckoned, patting the space on the bed next to him. She gave him a weak smile and sat down. For a minute there was an awkward silence, neither really knowing what to say to the other, but it was Monifa who broke it.
“So, how ya doing?” she asked, looking at the worn carpet.
“Shit, I’m fucked-up. We just lost the most stand-up nigga ever to claim a set,” he said emotionally.
“Yeah, I’m gonna miss the shit outta Big Gunn, that was my folk. Remember when he let us hold his Bonneville to drive out to Disneyland?” she recalled.
“Do I? Man, that muthafucka broke smooth down halfway there. I thought I was gonna catch a heatstroke waiting for Rahshida to come pick us up off the side of the highway.”
“I remember. You was mad as hell because you got motor oil on your Magic Johnson jersey trying to be Mr. Mechanic.” She giggled.
“Damn right. I paid a grip for that joint.” He smiled and shoved her playfully. A small static current passed between them, causing Monifa to flinch.
“Guess that old spark ain’t totally dead, huh?” She rubbed her arm.
“Guess not,” he replied. “Mo, about the other day-”
“Gutter, there ain’t no more to be said about it. You’ve got your life in New York and I’ve got mine out here,” she told him, getting off the bed to go stand by the window. Monifa only called him Gutter when she was angry or trying to put distance between them.
Gutter sucked his teeth. “I love how you try to make shit all black-and-white.”
She glared at him. “Gutter, you left me without a word and started a life with your new bitch in New York. It don’t get no more black-and-white than that.”
“Ain’t no need for name-calling,” he said. He sat the bottle on the ground and became a bit more serious. “Watch ya mouth, hear?”
Monifa laughed. “What, you getting sensitive because I’m talking about ya bitch?”
“I ain’t gonna tell your ass no more.” He slid off the bed and stood nose to nose with her, his green eyes flashing anger. A few years ago, Monifa would’ve shrunk under his gaze, but this was a whole new day and a whole new Monifa.
“Gutter, you can miss me with that mean-mug shit, because I’m hardly impressed. Save that for them buster- ass niggaz y’all be tripping on. I ain’t scared of you, Kenyatta.”
“Monifa, don’t push me,” he warned.
“Push you? Push you? Kenyatta Soladine, you’ve got hella nerve after the way you
The moment Monifa felt the pain shoot up her arm she knew she’d gone too far. There was a look in Gutter’s eyes that she’d only seen before he was going out to “put in work.” Though they had once been lovers, she didn’t know the man who stood before her. She expected him to strike her, or at the least toss her across the room, but to her surprise he kissed her.
Gutter’s lips pressed against hers so hard that she thought her teeth would pierce her upper lip. The kiss was not a soft passionate kiss of a lover, more like that of a rapist conquering his victim. Never one to be outdone Monifa nicked his bottom lip, almost drawing blood.
Monifa’s body suddenly felt weightless. The room became a swirl of colors, devoid of sound save for the beating of two lovers’ hearts. She raked her nails along Gutter’s neck, to match the iron-like fingers that were digging into
