by K'wan
He was totally stunned to find out Stan had been playing both sides, but he couldn’t say that it surprised him. He’d always felt like there was something off about Stan, but the homies had branded him paranoid for it. “Switch hitting mutha fucka,” Lou-Loc shook his head and crumbled the newspaper.
When the news of Stan’s murder had reached the O.G.’s from East Coast Crips wanted to have Lou-Loc killed for taking out one of theirs, but Big Gunn wasn’t having it. He made it clear that if anything happened to Lou-Loc both Hoover and Harlem would retaliate and nobody wanted those kinds of problems over a snitch. In the weeks that followed, the police were stomping on Blood assess from L.A. County to San Diego. Every top dog on every Blood set was leaned on to give up the killers and when the LAPD leaned on you it hurt like hell.
The Crips also felt the punch of the O’Leary murder. Not only were the police putting in overtime in the hood and stopping all cash flow, the Bloods had also gotten wind of their little charade and weren’t pleased about it. The already intense rivalry between the two gangs intensified and bodies were dropping left and right. It got especially bad for Lou-Loc who couldn’t seem to go anywhere without getting shot at. That summer Lou-Loc was ambushed by a group of Bounty Hunter Bloods while coming out of the movie theater and took a bullet in the leg. Sensing that he was living on borrowed time the longer he stayed in Cali, Lou-Loc decided to head east and get a fresh start. That was two years ago.
CHAPTER 5
Lou-Loc reclined in the passenger seat of Gutter’s whip, trying to enjoy the blunt he was smoking but it was hard considering Gutter had them feeling like they were on a roller coaster with the way he was driving. The speedometer read eighty, when the posted speed limit was forty.
“You gonna make us crash, Andretti.” Lou-Loc said sarcastically. Gutter glanced at his friend and returned his eyes to the road. In spite of Lou-Loc’s comment, he pushed it to eighty-five.
Gutter cut his eyes at Lou-Loc. “Player, you just ain’t hip? This here is New York City, cuz. Everybody out here already drive crazy as hell so we fit right in. Now quit crying and pass the weed, cuz.”
Lou-Loc passed him the blunt. “Just slow down some before we get stopped with these guns in the car and end up on Riker’s Island, and I have to let them slobs get at yo bitch ass.”
“Fool you crazy. You could put me in a cage with fifty brims and I can’t C-faded. I’m the hardest nigga alive. Calm down and stop telling me how to drive. Don’t worry; I’ll get you back to Martina in one piece.”
“Fuck her,” Lou-Loc said and busied himself looking out the window.
“What’s the matter, trouble at home?” Gutter asked, but Lou-Loc didn’t answer. “Cuz don’t play me like we ain’t come up on free lunch together, if something is bothering you, holla at ya boy.”
Lou-Loc hesitated. “Cuz, you ever feel like you might be outgrowing Sharell?”
“Hell nah,” Gutter said speeding past a truck. “Let me put you up on something cuz. When we moved out here, bitches was trying to see us left and right. They were all good to fuck, but that was as far as it went until I met Sharell. She was the only chick in this whole funky ass city that I actually felt like I could vibe with,” he confessed, while switching lanes without signaling and cutting off a truck. “That girl is a gem. She got a good job with the state and goes to school at night. If anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s her that’s outgrowing me.”
Lou-Loc smiled at his friend. “You right, player. I don’t know, sometimes I just feel like maybe Martina ain’t the one. I’m trying to get out of this shit, and she trying to pull me deeper in it and its getting to me. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s having my baby then I probably would’ve left her already.” When Lou-Loc mentioned Martina being pregnant Gutter shot him a look but didn’t say anything. “What?”
“Nothing, cuz,” Gutter tossed the weed clip out the window and lit a Newport.
“Nigga if you’ve got something to say then spill it,” Lou-Loc demanded.
Gutter exhaled the smoke and searched for the words to express himself without offending his friend. “Cuz, I’ve been your truest, bluest home boy since that day we jumped your skinny ass on to the set. I would never put you in a cross or question your judgment, but I gotta get this off of my chest,” Gutter paused to make sure he had Lou-Loc’s attention. “You sure that kid she carrying is yours?”
Lou-Loc looked at Gutter as if he’d lost his mind. “How you gonna ask me something like that? What the fuck you done heard, Gutter?” No answer. “GUTTER!”
“A’ight, Lou-Loc. I heard it through the grapevine that Martina been creeping with some offbrand nigga behind yo back.” he blurted out.”
Lou-Loc was shocked. “Gutter, don’t come at me with no rumors on this one. You putting shit on my lady so you better be sure.”
“That’s on Hoover and Harlem, cuz.” Gutter said honestly.
“I don’t believe this shit.” Lou-Loc slammed his fist into the dashboard. “All the work I been putting in trying to keep her ass fly and she got the nerve to be tipping. On Crip I should push that ho!”
“Chill Loc, blasting her ain’t gonna change nothing.” Gutter tried to reason with him.
“It’d make me feel better. G, where you get this info from?”
“From Sharell,” Gutter jumped across three lanes to get off the highway on Christopher Street.
“And how does she know?”
“Lou-Loc, you know hos talk and other hos listen. Few days ago, she was in the nail shop on 126th street and that skinny bitch Nina, from Martina’s hood, was in there with two of her girls talking shit about how much fun she and Martina had at this jazz club in Long Island last weekend.”
Lou-Loc’s wheels began to spin. He remembered that was the weekend Martina said she was going to spend the night with her sister to go over some last minute arrangements. When Lou-Loc offered to drop her off she insisted on taking a cab. He didn’t think too much of it at the time, but now the chickens were coming home to roost.
“Anyway,” Gutter continued, “her homegirl asked her who they went with and she said some Blood nigga named Mac and his cousin who suppose to be ballers from Newark. Sharell was tight but she wasn’t gonna follow up with that stupid shit, until she looked up and saw them hos beaming at her. They were making sure to talk loud enough for her to hear them so she could run back and tell it. I didn’t even wanna tell you, but I couldn’t hold it and watch my brother get played like a sucker over some New York broad. I’m sorry, Lou-Loc.”
“Ain’t no need for you to apologize, my nigga. It’s that bitch that’s foul. When I get back to the crib I’m gonna sock that bitch then I’m packing my shit and rolling.”
“My nigga, don’t wild out just yet. We gonna get all our facts straight and do it the gangsta way. Just hold yo head for a minute,” Gutter told him.
With everything going on downtown they knew they wouldn’t be able to find parking on the street, so they pulled into an open air parking lot, where they would leave the car and walk the rest of the way to BMCC. During their walk the two old friends talked shit and tried to keep their attention diverted off Lou-Loc’s problem. Being around his partner lifted Lou-Loc’s spirits, but what he heard about Martina still bothered him. He wasn’t sure if the information was 100%, so he couldn’t wild out just yet. One thing was for sure, he was going to find out sooner than later.
*
The northbound traffic was fairly light for a Thursday afternoon. Cisco wove his red M3 in and out traffic with a vengeance. He was mad as hell, and he wanted the world to know it. “Fuck Diablo,” He said to no one in particular. Diablo had disrespected him one time too many and he was getting tired of it.
For several years he ran LC Blood while Diablo ran from a murder charge and the gang flourished under him. Now Diablo wanted to crawl from under his rock and start giving orders. If it hadn’t been for Cisco’s plan, the great El Diablo would still be hiding in Cuba with his head in
the sand.
There was a poor soul who owed a debt to LC, a large one at that. The bag had already been dropped and his life was forfeit if he couldn’t come up with the money. Cisco knew that a dead man couldn’t pay a debt so he figured a way to use it to his advantage. In exchange for his life the man would confess to the murder that El Diablo was being charged with. The D.A. knew the man hadn’t committed the murder, but he didn’t care as long as he got his conviction and it was someone of color that he could splash on the front page of the newspaper. The judge handed that simple bastard twenty years without batting and eye and Diablo was no longer a wanted man. Cisco’s plan had saved El Diablo’s life but the sour old bastard had never so much as thank you.
“Diablo,” Cisco said out loud. Devil was a fitting name for that black hearted son of a bitch.
Cisco pulled a tiny cellular phone from his pocket and flipped it open. He quickly scrolled through the phone book until he found the number he was looking for. With a manicured nail, he hit send and waited.
“Hello,” a came voice from the other end.
“What’s going on, Tito?”
“Cisco, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I think I’ll be needing your services, Primo. Are you dressed?”
“Si, Don Cisco.” Tito told him.
“Good then come downstairs. I’m getting off the FDR and on my way to your block to get you. I got some moves to make, and I want you with me.”
“Drama?” Tito asked, now sounding more alert.
“If it were that serious, you’d be the first to know. We’ll talk further when I see you.” Without waiting for a response Cisco ended the call.
He pulled the M3 to a stop on 129th street as he waited for a red light to turn green. As he looked out his passenger window, he noticed a group of boys crossing the street. At first he paid them no mind, but at the sight of the blue bandannas hanging from their belts he felt himself become very angry. At the sight of his enemies, Cisco reached for the chrome plated 9mm on his lap. One of the boys made eye contact and Cisco put on his mean mug. The boy slowed his pace and returned Cisco’s stare. Cisco spat out the passenger window and raised his gun so it rested on the steering wheel for the boy to see. At the sight of the cannon, the boy turned away and quickly caught up with his friends.
“Puto!” Cisco yelled out the window and sped through the green light. Cisco snarled as he sped off through the now green light.
By the time Cisco made it to 126th and Park, Tito was already standing outside. Tito was one of those people whose appearance didn’t match their character. He was a very average looking young man, neither short nor tall. He was slim, but at the same time very muscular. This was no doubt from the years of chopping cane in Puerto Rico. Tito had spend most of his life as a farm boy, and moved to New York as a teenager.
Tito’s skin was an even tan complexion, making him look almost African American instead of Puerto Rican. Although Tito looked harmless enough, he was anything but that. It was his passion for violence that earned him the nickname Lil Major Blood. He was a dedicated soldier in the ranks of L.C. Blood and one of Cisco’s most feared enforcers.
Tito came into the fold shortly after El Diablo went into hiding. He was young and eager to prove himself worthy of the ranks of L.C., which Cisco learned first hand when Tito cut the throat of a man who had made the mistake of stepping on Cisco’s shoe at a club. Cisco hired him as muscle at first, and eventually promoted him to enforcer. When Cisco assumed control of L.C. he offered Tito a position as second in command, but Tito declined. He was more comfortable in the streets with the rest of the soldiers and didn’t want the responsibilities that came with the position Cisco was offering.
Cisco sat in his car and watched the predator as he approached. He was decked out in a red Champion hoodie with red and white Air Force One’s. Being that the weather was nice and Tito was still wearing a thick pull over, Cisco knew the man was strapped. And he preferred it that way. To spite living in a Crip controlled neighborhood Tito always flew his colors and dared someone to say something about it.
“What’s good, Cisco?” Tito asked as he hopped into the passenger seat.
“Tito, I don’t see how you can stand to live amongst these people?” Cisco was speaking of the Crips.
Tito shrugged. “Fuck em. There are advantages to living amongst the Crabs. In the event that we go to war or something to that affect, they would never think to look for me in their own backyard. Besides, I have an understanding with these young ones around here. They don’t fuck with me, and I don’t slaughter their families,” Tito said with a snicker. “So what has brought you to the slums, Cisco?”
Cisco smiled like the Cat who has just swallowed the Canary. “Tito, my friend, there are about to be some drastic changes in our fair city, and I want to ensure that we reap the benefits. Listen carefully to what I am about to run down to you.”
CHAPTER 6
Walking through the halls of B.M.C.C, Lou-Loc looked like a lost puppy. He was having a hard time finding the admissions office, and becoming very frustrated. Just as he was about to give up and say “fuck college,” a feminine voice called to him from behind. “Are you lost?”
Lou -loc turned around ready to tell whoever was speaking to him to fuck off. When he saw the source of the voice, he was speechless. He was standing face to face with the most beautiful woman god had ever saw fit to plant on this earth. Everything around him seemed to fade away and there was only her. She was a smooth copper skinned girl with long black hair and playful eyes. Dressed in an expensive looking Donna Karen pantsuit with the matching shoes she looked every bit of the modern business woman.
“I asked if you were lost,” she repeated, snapping Lou-Loc out of his trance.
Lou-Loc mumbled something that sounded like: “I have crossed an entire ocean, and at last I’ve found you”
“What?” She asked confused.
“O…yea,” Lou-Loc said trying to recover himself, “I mean, yes. I am a little lost. I didn’t realize it was so obvious.”
“Not really, I just noticed you looking around, but not really moving in any direction so I figured you were either lost or waiting for someone?”
“Well actually, a little of both,” Lou-Loc said. “I was looking for the admissions office, but I think I’ve found who I’ve been waiting for.” The girl smiled bashfully. “And what a beautiful smile.”
“Thank you, but didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s impolite to stare?” she asked playfully.
“Forgive me,” he said bowing slightly, “but you are quite beautiful.”
“Thank you for the kind words, but I think it’s only fair to warn you that if you’re trying to pick me up, it isn’t going to happen. I’m not that kind of girl.” She said seriously.
“Wait a minute, sweetheart,” he said holding up his palms, “it ain’t even that kinda party. I got nothing but your best interest at heart. My name is Lou-Loc,” he extended his hand.
She looked at his hand as if it was dirty. “Your mother named you Lou-Loc?”
He was a little surprised by her response, so he hesitated before answering, “Nah, my full name is St. Louis. St. Louis Alexander, but if you repeat it, I’ll just deny it,” he joked.
“St. Louis,” she let the name roll off her tongue. “Its unusual, but I like it. What made her name you after a city?”
“That’s where she met my daddy. So, do you have a name?” he changed the subject.
“Of course I do.”
“So, are you going to tell me?”
She turned her back and began to walk away. “You can find the admissions office down the hall on the left,” She said over her shoulder. Her sudden departure left him standing there stuck on stupid, but he wasn’t going to let her slip away like that.
He jogged after her and finally caught up to her at the front door. Lou-Loc gently touched her arm to get her attention. “You still haven’t told me your name?”
She turn
ed to face him and licked her lips seductively. “St. Louis, I am not presently, nor have I ever been easy. So don’t get it twisted. You seem like a smart young man. If you really want to get with me, I’m sure you can find a way to reach me.” She winked her eye at Lou-Loc and strolled out the double doors.
As he watched her walk across the court yard, so did the rest of the men gathered in front of the school. Even some of the girls took notice of the copper goddess in the Donna Karen suit. Lou-Loc watched her as she climbed into her green Cherokee Jeep. To his surprise, she turned around and looked directly at him standing out in front, blew a kiss in his direction and merged into traffic. Before she got too far, he made a mental note of her license plate number. With visions of the mystery goddess still in his head Lou-Loc went back inside to the admissions office.
During the registration process all Lou-Loc could think about was her. He was so thrown off that he didn’t even realize until he looked at his paperwork that one of the classes he’d signed up for was Introduction to Latino History. The line was too long for him to wait on it again to change the class, so he put it off for another day. He still hadn’t business to attend to and didn’t want to spend all day line hopping at BMCC.
When he got outside Gutter was leaning against a car, sipping a pint of Hennessy. He noticed the goofy expression on Lou-Loc’s face. “Fuck is you all cheeky about?”
