K'wan - Gutter

Gutter picked up the forty of Old English that was sitting by his foot, and swigged thirstily. “So much death,” he whispered.

The creaking of floorboards caused him to turn around. Monifa was standing behind him, with her arms folded across her breasts. Her hair hung loosely, fanning out over her shoulder. Her lips were lightly coated in a peach shade, like remnants of something she drank. Monifa’s eyes stared down at him, but there was no malice, only hurt and need. She motioned toward the step one level above him and he nodded. Giving a slight tug to her denim shorts, she took the seat.

She was silent for a minute, just staring at him. He looked like a warrior prince with his wild hair and sharp ebony features. Monifa had always found Gutter beautiful, even when he tried to come off as hard and insensitive. She knew both sides of the man and had long ago come to terms with who he was and what he was about. This was one of the reasons she found herself so hopelessly in love.

“Hey,” she said weakly.

“Sup,” he replied. “I thought you got up outta here?”

“I did. I went home to change clothes, but came right back to see if Rahshida needed anything.”

“You’re a sweet kid.” He chuckled.

“Oh, so now I’m a kid, huh? I don’t know, Gutter, I seemed old enough this morning.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Mo, about that-”

“Save it.” She held her hand up. “It was a onetime thing, Gutter. It wasn’t that serious,” she lied. On the outside Monifa tried to carry it like the night was just nothing but a nut, but they both knew it was more than that. Her soul craved him, but she knew that Gutter would never again be hers.

“Your hair looks a hot mess,” she joked, changing the subject.

Gutter managed to muster up a smile. “I didn’t do this on my own,” he said sarcastically. “Besides, I ain’t really had a whole lot of time for grooming.”

Monifa pulled a comb from her back pocket and patted her inner thigh with it. “Sit back and let me tighten you up, smart-ass.” She took the step just above the one he was sitting on. Gutter slid back and rested his head against her leg. Slowly, Monifa began the task of untangling his hair and rebraiding it. “So, where’s Danny this morning?”

“I sent him and Tears back to the hotel, then they gotta stop over at the mall to get me a new cell phone. With everything going on… I kinda smashed my old one.”

“You and that temper.” She popped him on the head playfully with the comb.

“You know, this reminds me of back in the days, us sitting out and you braiding my hair,” he recalled.

“Yeah, seems like so long ago.” Monifa paused. “Ken, what happened to us? What happened to you?”

“The hood,” he said honestly. “I got so caught up in this shit that I couldn’t think of anything else. Not my family, my loved ones. Nothing was more important to me than the set.”

“Even me?”

Gutter paused momentarily, gathering his thoughts. He thought about feeding her another line of bullshit, but he owed her more. He owed her the truth. “Mo, you gotta understand the circumstances surrounding my leaving Cali. A cop and his partner died and their blood was on my hands.” He proceeded to tell her the whole story about what had happened that night in the O’Leary house. Monifa was shocked, and had a thousand questions, but she let him finish his story. When it was done, she was crying and his eyes were moist.

“My God, I never knew,” she sobbed.

“Not many people did.” He took another drink. “The LAPD rode down on the hood, pressing niggaz for a killer. It was only a matter of time before one of these fools started running their fucking traps. The big homeys decided that it was best for me and Lou to get low for a while. Lou-Loc had had enough of Cali anyhow, so it was cool for him to relocate to New York. Me, shit I couldn’t wait to get back to the hood. The thing is, we started getting money on the East Coast. We blew up real fast, baby. The next thing I knew, years had passed and neither of us was in a rush to get home.”

“You could’ve called or written me, Kenyatta,” she insisted.

“And said what? ‘Hey Monifa, I moved away from Cali to become an even worse criminal on the East Coast.’ Nah, baby, I had already done enough damage to your life and didn’t want to cause more. I figured in time, you’d forget about me and move on. Maybe find yourself a good working dude. I ain’t the kind of nigga you need in your life.”

“Kenyatta, that is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard,” she said seriously. “How do you know what kind of man I need in my life? Jesus, I can’t tell you how many nights I laid awake thinking about you. I’ve been with other guys since you, but none measured up. You were my first and only love.”

Gutter craned his neck to face her. “Monifa, I-” his words were swallowed when she placed her mouth over his. Monifa kissed him deep and passionately, and he returned it. They stroked each other’s faces, and for just a few seconds everything was as it had been. The moment was shortlived as they heard a series of whistles coming from the house, followed by Tears appearing in the doorway.

“What the fuck is going on, cuz?” Gutter asked, ready to answer the war call.

“The sentries bagged a slob creeping through,” Tears said, lumbering down the stairs, tossing Gutter a pistol as he passed. The homeys were hot on his heels.

“Is he still alive?” Gutter asked no one in particular.

Rahkim pulled the slide on the sawed-off pump, “For the moment.”

Gutter looked from the jogging forms of Rahkim and Criminal to Monifa. Her eyes pleaded with him not to follow, but she knew better. Gutter was a soldier, and thus had to be in the trenches. When she nodded in understanding he took off after his comrades.

BY THEtime the trio had made it to the end of the block, Mad Man and Lil Blue Bird were coming their way. Both the youngsters were dressed in dark sweatshirts and jeans. The young men were wearing the confident smiles of game hunters that had just bagged a prize. Walking between them was a soldier that Gutter recognized from the other side.

Pudgy was a portly young man, with a round face and thick neck. He was a highly respected member of the Mad Swans, who had spilled his fair share of blood over the years. Usually when a set was planning a raid they used cannon fodder as scouts. They would never send a soldier of Pudgy’s value for fear of losing him. Gutter wondered why they had chosen him, but his curiosity would soon be satisfied.

“We caught this nigga creeping, cuz,” Mad Man lisped. A few years prior he had had his two front teeth knocked out by some cops, so he whistled a little when he spoke.

“Yeah, old boy was riding in a mean Benz,” Lil Blue added.

“Punk-ass slob.” Rahkim raised the sawed-off. “My brother ain’t even cold yet and you got the nerve to show your stinking face round here. Y’all little niggaz move so I can peel this bitch!”

“Easy, Unc.” Gutter stepped between Rahkim and Pudgy. “Pudge, I know you ain’t got a death wish, so I assume you got a good reason for being here? Start talking before these hammers do.” Gutter motioned toward his heavily armed entourage.

Pudgy was clearly as nervous as a rabbit in a pit of vipers, but he tried to steady his voice when he spoke. “Listen, man, I didn’t wanna come here to die, but they said it would be a show of good faith.”

“Who the fuck is they?” Criminal asked.

“The homeys from Swan, Trik wants to meet with you guys.”

“Fuck Swan!” Rahkim raged, stepping around Gutter and placing the sawed-off to Pudgy’s large stomach. “You niggaz killed my brother, ain’t shit to talk about.”