pages. “Spent some time in Miami and at some point slipped into New York. With his track record I’m surprised you haven’t had any trouble out of him before this. Between him, Reckless, and Major Blood, they kept some shit jumping in Compton.”
“Yeah, we gonna see how much Reckless got jumping after a real muthafucking gangsta touch the turf. After I lay this bitch nigga, I’m gonna grease his faggot-ass cousin, Major.” Gutter tossed the file back to Snake Eyes. “He might not have tried Sharell his self, but that don’t change the fact that he put somebody on the case. That’s my word if them niggaz touch my wife…”
“Easy, homey.” Snake Eyes placed a reassuring hand on Gutter’s shoulder. “You and I both know that she’s good where she’s at. Nobody but us and Anwar knows where she’s tucked.”
“Nobody but us and Anwar knew where she was tucked before,” Gutter reminded him. “Cuz, I’ll just feel better when this nigga is outta my city, real talk.”
“Soon enough, cousin. I’ve made arrangements for the funeral and wake for Big Gunn to go down tomorrow, all in one shot. The family understands about you having to bail early because of the emergency in New York. Speaking of cutting out, what you think about taking Tariq with you?”
“Who, Lil Gunn? Man, fuck am I gonna do, give him package and teach him to blast muthafuckas? Nah, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Gutter laughed it off.
“Well, I do. Come on, G, look what that nigga is dealing with out here. His mama’s a winehead and his daddy ain’t here no more. Who’s gonna raise him, the fucking streets? You see what happened to us.”
“Snake, your ass is a lawyer, fuck is you talking about?” Gutter asked him.
“Yeah, but you went on to become a gang banger, and so did Poppa, Ray, Baby Crunk, and Lou-Loc. Now three of the people on that list I just ran down to you are dead, one is in jail, and the other one is trying to get himself killed. So what’s that telling you, that one out of every six of us will make a little something of their life?”
“Yo, dawg-”
“Nah, hear me out for a minute, Gutter. That boy is without a doubt his father’s child; if you leave him here it’s only a matter of time before he falls into the bullshit. I mean, it ain’t like he’s gonna have a whole lot of choices if he stays, G.”
“Man, we banging in New York too!” Gutter pointed out.
“Yeah, but not like these niggaz.” Snake Eyes motioned toward the garage, where most of the crew was assembled inside. “Besides, you know when Sharell drops her load this shit is gonna have to slow up anyhow. Get the little nigga outta here before the police or the meat wagon does.”
Gutter measured his words, wondering if his friend’s suggestion would make things worse or better. He was right when he said that things would change when Sharell gave birth. She had already started tightening the reins, and they’d get even tighter with a new baby. It wasn’t such a bad thing though because Gutter needed to slow down. Maybe bringing Lil Gunn to the East Coast would help him do that. He knew how easy it was to be fourteen on the set, with nobody but the hood to guide you.
“You might have a point, Snake, but who’s to say that Gunn even wants to go?” Gutter asked.
“He says,” Snake Eyes informed him. “You know me and Lil Gunn are way cool because just about once a month I gotta fly up to get him outta some shit, so he talks to me. His mama ain’t doing nothing but pushing him from the nest and into harm’s way, but you know Stacia ain’t trying to hear she has flaws. I asked the little nigga if he could move, would he? And he say in a heartbeat.”
Gutter shook his head at his old friend’s cunning. “A’ight, loc. Let me holla at Sharell about it and we’ll see what pops. Right now, I gotta go holla at these niggaz, before Rahkim gets them all hyped up.” Gutter headed for the garage.
WHEN HAWK was finally allowed to leave the precinct he was less than a happy camper. They had picked him up the previous night and brought him in for questioning on the recent rash of murders. Hawk had been on the police radar as a known gang affiliate and general piece of shit, but until then they’d never been able to come up with a solid reason to pick him up. Apparently they thought that he would be able to shed some light on the rash of gang-related shootings that had taken place over the last few days. Of course, Hawk refused to talk until his lawyer arrived.
The cops were so pissed that they took him from the precinct and drove around Harlem for hours to make it harder for the lawyer to locate him. The bullshit part of the whole thing was the fact that they had picked up several of the Crip leaders also, and thought it would be funny to release everybody at the same time. There was almost a full-scale riot between the two factions right in front of the precinct. Hawk was lucky to slide out before anything serious jumped off, but it still didn’t change the fact that Major Blood’s cowboy-ass antics had brought unnecessary heat down on him.
“Man, this nigga done stirred up more shit in two days then Cisco did the whole summer.” Red tossed a newspaper across the room to Hawk. All throughout it were details about the murders. Crips killed Bloods and Bloods killed Crips. Murder was an everyday thing in New York City, but when it involved the two rival gangs it narrowed the list of suspects considerably. There had been seven murders reported over the last three days and more coming in.
The most tragic piece was the one about a woman getting shot in Harlem. Hawk had warned Ruby over and over, but she wouldn’t listen. He should’ve known that her hatred of the Crips and love of Supreme wouldn’t let her sit by and watch, but he never expected this. Major Blood was proving to be more of a detriment to them than an asset.
“This muthafucka is over the top.” Hawk flipped the paper closed and tossed it onto the floor. “What the fuck were they thinking about calling him in?” Hawk wondered out loud.
“Dawg, you know the phone is gonna be jumping in a minute. When the big boys feel all this heat they’re gonna need somebody to point the finger at,” Shotta told Hawk.
Hawk knew he was 100 percent right. He was responsible for Major Blood while he was in the city and though he had not ordered the murders personally, he would surely take the blame for not keeping the killer on a shorter leash.
“Man, I knew that muthafucka was gonna be trouble the minute he showed up in New York,” Red said. “Son, them Cali niggaz don’t know how to chill the fuck out, now when his ass is long gone we still gonna be catching the flack.”
“Don’t even trip,” Hawk said, grabbing his car keys off the coffee table. Next he went to the closet closest to the front door and retrieved his Glock from the iron box where he kept it. “We gonna go see Major Blood and have a little chat. We out.” Hawk led his crew from the apartment.
“WHAT THE fuck is wrong with your face?” High Side asked, noticing his partner’s sudden mood change when he got off the phone.
“Man, this bitch-ass nigga Gutter is tripping,” Pop Top told him. “Old fag-ass nigga Hollywood went and dry- snitched, now Gutter on some next shit.”
“Dawg, you know how me and you do, but I think Gutter should’ve been told about this shit a long time ago,” High Side admitted.
“So now you sucking Gutter’s dick too?”
High Side narrowed his eyes. “Man, watch yo fucking mouth. Cuz, all I’m doing is pointing out the obvious to you. We was having a hard enough time with all the different red sets popping up and this Major Blood nigga ain’t do nothing but make it worse. Maybe we need to kick back until Gutter gets back?”
“Fuck all that shit, Side. When Gutter’s ass was laid up, Lou-Loc put me in charge of Harlem, now I ain’t good enough to run it?”
“Dawg, that was before Major Blood came on the scene putting batteries in niggaz backs,” High Side pointed out.
“Man, fuck Major Blood and fuck Gutter. Them niggaz don’t run Pop Top.” He spat on the ground.
“So what you gonna do now?”
“This nigga screaming some he need me to go watch his bitch out in Long Island,” Pop Top said, clearly not feeling it.
“Damn, nigga, you ain’t never strike me as the babysitting type,” High Side teased him.
“Nigga, fuck you!”
