The black Acura I was in moved south down Soundview Avenue, toward Soundview projects. Winter was driving; Crystal and Meme were in the back seat. We continued to blaze and get hyped. Two blunts were being passed around, and each bitch had a weapon in their hands, either a pistol or a knife: something deadly, something to make a vicious statement tonight.
We were only a few miles from our destination: Soundview Housing. Denise and her crew had to get got tonight. They put one of our own in the hospital the other day. Dandy was only fifteen years old, and now she was lying in the hospital with twenty-five stitches across her face from a razor. She had been jumped by Denise and four other bitches. Four against one wasn’t a fair fight and Dandy was a small girl. That bitch Denise took getting her ass beat down by Mouse personally and came after someone who she assumed was weaker than her. We couldn’t let that slide so easily. It was a must that we retaliate. Now it was my turn to fuck that bitch up. I couldn’t wait.
As I rode toward the beef, I could hear Search now talking to me. Sammy, get out the car, this ain’t worth it. You have a promising career ahead of you. Don’t fuck it up! He would have done anything and everything to stop me. That’s why I didn’t tell him everything. I wasn’t going to be talked out of this shit. This life, it was still a part of me. It was still the woman I was: on some gangsta shit. I still had to live here daily.
Crystal interrupted my thoughts when she blurted out, “What’s up wit’ you and Mouse?”
“What you mean what’s up wit’ us? We still tight,” I replied with a bit of an attitude.
“I’m just sayin’, Sammy, I be seeing her and Rico kickin’ it lately. He took her shoppin’ and everything. You know she fuckin’ that nigga,” Crystal continued.
“Mouse is a grown woman, Crystal, why you talkin’ ’bout her business for? She do her thang and I do mine.”
“I’m just sayin’, I haven’t been seein’ the two of y’all kick it like that lately. I just wanna make sure everything cool wit’ y’all.”
“Everything cool, so shut the fuck up about it!” I shouted.
Crystal knew not to fuck with me. I didn’t want to hear Mouse being talked about, even if it came from a friend’s lips. That’s how much respect I had for her. I passed Crystal the blunt and she took a few pulls.
“You good?” I asked Crystal.
“Yeah, I’m good. I ain’t mean no disrespect to you or Mouse,” she apologized submissively.
“A’ight, its cool. We gonna find these fuckin’ bitches tonight and put in that work. Okay?”
She nodded.
Winter navigated the Acura through the busy Bronx Streets. On a balmy spring night, it seemed that everyone was out and about. We tried to keep ourselves inconspicuous. The last thing we needed was NYPD lights blaring behind us when we were getting high and riding dirty. The closer we got to Soundview, the more hyped I was becoming. I was ready to kill this bitch. Denise usually stayed with her cousins out that way; it was known she had peoples in those housing projects. She was living in Edenwald, but the bitch felt more comfortable in Soundview. Now it was time to make her feel very uncomfortable. The South Bronx was another and entirely different location. It was a few miles from where we stayed at, and our beef with them went back since my mother was my age. Soundview was also notorious for violence, gangs, and drugs. It was once home to Pistol Pete and the Sex, Money, Murder gang, Fat Joe, and others.
Winter made a left on Story Avenue, and we slowly rode through enemy territory. We were never welcome around this area. Edenwald Blood Vixens and these bitches out in Soundview were like oil and water: we would never mix. We all were cautious, but we were on a mission. I knew that at any given moment, things could go terribly wrong for us, even deadly. But I didn’t give a fuck; thinking about Dandy lying up in Jacoby Hospital with her face bandaged and fucked up, it put me over the edge. That might as well have been Mouse in the hospital. Denise fucked up, and she went running to enemy grounds because she had family out there. But they always say you can run but you can’t hide, especially from me. I didn’t give a fuck where that bitch was at; I was coming for her, even if she was in hell.
Soundview was lively tonight. It was a replica of where I came from, with the sprawling project buildings, dilapidated store fronts and bodegas, and busy streets, but positioned in the South Bronx. I stared out the window, crouching low in the passenger seat with the 9 mm on my lap. Winter steered the ride from block to block. The Acura turned some people’s heads with it light tints and alloy rims. It was stolen. Winter had skills when it came to stealing cars. It was her forte.
We cruised through the area for fifteen minutes, still trying to be inconspicuous. I was getting impatient. “Damn, where the fuck is this bitch at?” I uttered.
“She’s around here, Sammy. We gonna find that bitch,” Winter assured me.
I didn’t know if I wanted to put three holes in her or cut up her face like she did Dandy’s the other day. Shit, just forty-eight hours ago, I was in a Manhattan studio recording a track with Macky, kicking it with Mouse and making something happen, and now I was riding dirty with the pistol on my lap and looking to hurt or kill someone. Strange how twisted shit could become so fast.
It was a quarter to ten at night. A few NYPD cruisers passed by us, but they didn’t fuck with us, thank God. We continued our search and smoking on blunts. We drove down Randall Avenue, Roosevelt Avenue, Soundview Avenue, Lacombe Avenue, and the backstreets for almost an hour and we still couldn’t find this bitch. But I wasn’t giving up. I didn’t come out here for nothing.
“Yo, this bitch is ghost, fo’ real,” Meme uttered.
“She know we comin’ fo’ her, that’s why,” Crystal added.
I remained silent. The only thing on my mind was revenge. I couldn’t help but to become frustrated. I was itching to get at this bitch. Denise had it coming. She ran her mouth too many times, always spreading rumors and gossip, and she was a fuckin’ bully. This time, I planned on shutting that bitch up permanently.
“There go that fuckin’ bitch right there.” Crystal pointed out.
I turned, and there was Denise walking out of the corner bodega on Roosevelt Avenue with one of her cousins. It took about an hour for us to find this bitch. I was determined and wasn’t leaving the South Bronx until there was blood spilled. I glared at Denise; the bitch was smiling and looking too comfortable. I was ready to change that feeling and shake that bitch out of her fuckin’ skin.
The pistol in my hand was ready to do some damage. Edenwald Blood Vixens was ready to put in that work. I eyed that bitch like a hawk, watching her smoke a Newport and chat with her older cousin, Angie. Angie had a bad and notorious reputation in the Bronx, too. We had a few violent run-ins with each other over the years, and tonight was about to be another one. I was glad to have the 9 mm on me though. Big, bad Angie was known to carry a knife or razor on her all the time and she wouldn’t hesitate to cut a bitch. She had to be around when they cut up Dandy. It was perfect.
Winter parked across the street from the bodega Denise came out of. She waited for me to give the signal. We covered our faces with the red bandannas, representing our blood set, and were ready to cause trouble. And like lambs approaching the slaughter, these two bitches were coming in our direction.
I didn’t take my eyes off of them for a second. I opened the passenger door, placing one foot on the pavement and leaving the other in the car. I was poised to strike. When they came near, I erupted from the car; my crew was behind me, the red bandannas covering our faces and the pistol in my hand looking menacing.
“Denise,” I shouted.
She turned and was unaware of the threat looming her way. I hid the pistol from her view. She frowned, and her cousin did the growling.
“What the fuck you doin’ on this side of the BX, bitch!” Angie shouted.
“Fuck you, bitch!” I shouted back.
Harsh words were exchanged. They came at me. Angie already had a box cutter in her fist. She
was too predictable. But before they could come closer, Crystal and Meme lunged at these bitches with their fists swinging.
“Dumb bitch!” Meme shouted.
Meme caught Denise with a hard right to her face, and then Winter caught a few hits off that bitch too. These two moved like lightning and struck like thunder. Denise was caught in the storm. They attacked Angie next; she swung the box cutter at Crystal and tried to cut my friend in her face. But Crystal was fast on her feet. I wasn’t about to have that happen to my friend. I showed my hand, the 9 mm, and screamed, “Y’all bitches better back the fuck down!”
Instantly, both of them became frozen with fear. I aimed the gun at Denise. It was too easy to take her life in the blink of an eye. I was always told you don’t pull out a gun unless you were ready to use it.
“Bitch, what you gonna do wit’ that?” Denise shouted.
Every breath in me was ready to kill this bitch. I hated this bitch with a passion, but I could hear Search shouting at me: Please, don’t do it, Sammy. I have so much invested into you. You have a lot to lose.
Search was my conscience. I swear, this nigga had wings and was sitting on my shoulder. I was the devil on the next shoulder. Fuck it, then, I ran over and started pistol whipping this bitch across her skull with the butt of the gun. The steel against her flesh was messy. The bitch hollered and dropped to the concrete with a gaping gash across her head. I was all over her like stink on shit. I wanted to crush her fuckin’ skull in. Crystal and Meme were beating the shit out of Angie in the middle of the street; without a razor or knife in her hand, she was fuckin’ useless. Winter and I were stomping and beating Denise violently into the concrete. She was no match for us. Like always, the bitch was all bark but no bite.
“That’s for Dandy, bitch!” I screamed madly.
My hands and the gun were bloody. Denise was sprawled out against the concrete in serious pain. Her whimpering echoed through the Bronx street. Angie was bloody and beaten badly just like her cousin. We left them bitches exposed and bleeding like squashed insects. The damage had been done, our statement told very loudly.
We retreated to the car and Winter sped off, tires screeching as she made a sharp U-turn in the middle of the block. We sent out a strong message to these bitches: don’t fuck with EBV, Edenwald Blood Vixens. I felt vindicated, especially seeing Denise’s face split open like a zipper. Not only was she pistol whipped by me, but Winter sliced that bitch’s face open with a razor in her hand. I loved it. An eye for an eye.
We were gone before the first police car came rushing to the scene. Have EMS clean up our mess. We got back to Edenwald in no time. The first thing I had Winter do was dump the car somewhere far and set it on fire. We had no more use for it.
We all went back to Crystal’s place and smoked a few blunts and sipped on some Cîroc peach. I wanted to get twisted tonight. With a lot on my mind, being with my ride or die bitches gave me some comfort. I only wished Mouse was with us. She would have loved to see Denise in that much pain. But I felt things were changing and I was powerless to stop it.
Smoking three blunts and finishing off a bottle of Cîroc Peach before dawn came, I ended up crashing on Crystal’s couch for a few hours.
It’d been twenty-four hours since that brutal clash, and already word had been circulating through the streets about it. The confrontation in the South Bronx had been ringing out like Sunday bells and my name came along with it. Denise received thirty stitches in her face from the pistol whipping and the razor cutting. We had that bitch looking like Frankenstein. I felt no remorse at all. Angie was more fortunate; she only received a few bruises, a black eye, and a ripped-out weave, but her pride was crushed. She had put a green light on me in the streets. Supposedly, I was a marked woman for death. I wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it. I’d been through it all and Angie and her threats didn’t scare me. Warring and heartache was in my blood. I came from that lifestyle, and I was part of a vicious blood set that would kill for me. Being a high-ranking member in my set had its advantages. Once a person has joined a blood set, it was for life; you couldn’t leave the set or flip to another set. And this was my life, until music became big for me.
I’d been a female blood since I was thirteen. My status and reputation preceded me. I wasn’t the oldest member, but I had a more extensive criminal background that gave me love and respect in my hood and on these streets. A set leader isn’t elected but rather asserts themselves by developing and managing the gang’s criminal enterprises through their reputation for violence and ruthlessness and through their personal charisma. I was that bitch that everyone looked up to.
We were over fifty deep in my set, from bitches to niggas, and we symbolized hard wherever we went, because bloods, especially EBV, have a strong sense of commitment to their set and are extremely dangerous because of our willingness to use violence both to obtain the respect of gang members and to respond to any person who disrespects the set. My crew, my bitches, was more to muthafuckas, like our male blood counterparts, than helping them carry weapons, hold drugs, or prostitute themselves to make money for their set. EBV, we had a fierce reputation and we did our own thing, made up our own rules.
We identified ourselves through various gang indicators such as colors, clothing, symbols, tattoos, jewelry, graffiti, language, and hand signs. Usually, we wore sports clothing, like team jackets that showed our colors, Chicago Bulls, San Francisco 49ers, and the Phillies.
The most commonly used Bloods symbols included the number five, the five-pointed star, and the five-pointed crown. These symbols were meant to show the Bloods’ affiliation with the People Nation, a large coalition of affiliates created to protect alliance members within the federal and state prison systems.
I loved my peoples and I understood my history. The history of how something started always engrossed me, from the history of how the Bloods started to the history of our country, America, music, and much more. Society called me violent, but I was smart, intrusive, and inquisitive. I was beauty, attitude, and brains, a deadly combination not to fuck with.
But with me being Hispanic, and my family belonging to the Latin Kings, there was some conflict in the beginning. The history of the East Coast Bloods originated in Rikers Island. The United Blood Nation, simply called the Bloods, was formed in 1993, within the New York City jail system on Rikers Island’s GMDC, C73. GMDC was used to segregate the problem inmates from the rest of the detention center. Prior, the Latin Kings were the most prevalent and organized gang in the NYC jail system. The Latin Kings were targeting the blacks with violence, and the black inmates, who were organized by some of the more violent and charismatic inmates, formed a protection group, which they called the United Blood Nation. By 1996, there were thousands of Bloods running the NYC streets and establishing ourselves as dominant, violent, and a ruthless organization. We were feared and we were respected. And there were the initiations into the Bloods, which meant robbing and slashing someone to join, maybe getting sexed in if you were a bitch, which meant fucking at least five niggas in one night, killing someone, or sometimes you were in because of your pedigree.
I was thirteen; Mouse and I were determined to join, and we weren’t trying to get sexed in. Our pussies were still tight and pure at the time. With us being Hispanic and our fathers belonging to the Latin Kings, it was hell. But we weren’t going to be rejected. Mouse and I had to rob and slash someone in the face to prove ourselves worthy and vicious enough to join. I was willing to do it. It was the fall, Mouse and I walked around the busy Fordham Road late in the evening when people were coming home from work, exiting from the subway and getting off the buses. Everyone seemed distracted by something else other than us; we were only two young and harmless teenagers wandering about, or so it appeared to be that way. But they had no idea the danger we was about to create for some poor individual.
I spotted my target. She was a black woman in her early twenties, nice looking, maybe a college student, maybe not. I didn’t care about
her occupation or her goals; she was only an agenda for me, my way inside the Bloods. I followed her around for a few blocks, the sharp razor concealed in my hand. Where she went, I went. She seemed happy and pleased about something, going from store to store, shopping for a child, maybe hers, or not. It wasn’t any concern of mines.
As I neared her, my heart pounded like drums banging in my chest. This wasn’t personal; it was just something I had to do to prove myself. Mouse flanked me. The others, the older Bloods, were watching us from a distance. Once this incident went down, it was recorded and we were in. When my target exited the children’s clothing store with a few bags in her hand, I had to strike.
Mouse walked ahead of me and purposely bumped into the bitch, to create a distraction for me.
“Bitch, watch where the fuck ya goin’,” Mouse had hollered at her.
“Excuse me,” the woman had replied, looking confused.
“You heard what the fuck I said,” Mouse hollered back.
When she wasn’t looking, with her back turned to me, I rushed toward her and it happened so quickly. I didn’t even know I was doing it, but I was. I quickly cut her face, feeling the razor open up the right side of face like a hot knife slicing through butter. Suddenly, there was blood everywhere. She screamed madly, dropping her shopping bags and clutching her wounded face tightly. I had blood on my hands, but the deed was done, mission accomplished. Mouse and I took off running. I didn’t know this woman, but her pain and suffering was my way into a gang. As we ran, I could still hear her screaming in agony from a block away.
A week later, Mouse performed her initiation by cutting up some male in his early thirties. We caught him parking his expensive Benz on Jerome Avenue. He was in a suit and tie, looking like a banker or something. Mouse glared at him and without any hesitation, before he could press the alarm to his ride, she rushed him and slashed him across the face repeatedly. He screamed in pain, the blood gushing from his wounds. We took off running and made our way toward the nearest train station, jumping the turnstile and hopping on the train before the doors closed. Mission accomplished.
La Familia Page 9
