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  Seeing her man about to lose, it Satin intervened. “Lou-Loc, calm down. The girl is upset so try to be a little sympathetic to her situation. Be the bigger man that I know you are.”

  Satin’s words calmed him a little, but the anger was still there. “What is it, Martina?” he asked in a slightly softer tone.

  “I didn’t call to bug you, Lou-Loc.” she said trying to sound sincere. “The reason I called is because I’m having a problem with the lease. The apartment is in your name and the landlord is being an asshole about switching it over unless you sign off on it. He says that if you don’t then once the lease is up he’s gonna put us out.”

  “That ain’t my problem. Work that shit out.”

  “Lou-Loc I know you’re salty about everything that went on with me and you but the kids ain’t got nothing to do with it. Don’t make them suffer because you’re mad at me. Look, it’ll only take you five minutes to sign the papers and then I won’t bother you anymore. I promise,” she said sincerely.

  A warning bell went off in Lou-Loc’s head. Something about the way Martina was coming at him didn’t seem right. “Look, Martina,” he started, “I feel for you and all, but I ain’t got time for this bullshit. I’ll call you sometime during the week and give you a P.O. Box address to mail the papers to. I’ll sign them and send them back, outside of that I ain’t got shit for you.”

  “Oh, word? You hate me that much that you’ll let me and my kids get thrown out into the streets?” She shouted into the phone. “You a dirty nigga Lou-Loc.”

  “Martina,” he said getting angry again, “I’m trying to be nice about this shit, but you ain’t making it easy. You want me to come all the way from where I’m at to sign a lease? Fuck outta here. It ain’t my fault y’all assess is getting put out. As a matter of fact, you can go straight to...” Satin pinched his arm, and kept him from finishing his sentence.

  “St. Louis Alexander,” she said in a stern voice, “I know you ain’t gonna do that girl like that? I know she’s a bitch, but she got little ones. Don’t do it for her, do it for her kids. They’re innocent in all this. Don’t stoop to her level.”

  “Satin come on. We still gotta stop by and see your aunt and some more shit before we dip to the airport and I don’t wanna miss this flight.”

  “We can do that after you sign the lease. It shouldn’t take you but a few minutes. We can go to the airport from the hospital.”

  “Okay, Satin. You lucky I love you.” He said playfully. Lou-Loc composed himself and put the phone back to his ear. “Okay, Martina. I’ll be there in about a half hour. Have the paperwork ready. I’m signing the lease then I’m gone.”

  “Thanks, Lou-Loc. I...” The phone went dead. For the second time that morning, Martina had been hung up on. It was okay though. Mister O.G. Lou-Loc was about to learn a very important lesson; hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

  *

  Lou-Loc dialed Snake Eyes’ cell but didn’t get any answer. He left a message on his answering machine, informing his friend on where he was going. He had intended on having Snake Eyes meet him there, but he’d just have to try him again later. After Lou-Loc put the last of Satin’s bags in the car, they hopped on the highway and headed uptown. He felt uneasy about dipping through the hood without any type of firearm, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He would be in and out, so he didn’t really think anything could go wrong. Besides, that was his hood. Niggaz knew better than to fuck with him.

  *

  Cisco hung up his phone, and a wide grin formed on his face. Things were going well. Now it was time for him to set phase two of his plan in motion. First he called his hired help and gave them their instructions. The next call he made was to El Diablo’s cell phone.

  “Diablo,” he said in a frantic voice, “I hate to bother you, but we’ve got a problem I thought you should know about.”

  “What’s wrong?” El Diablo asked concerned.

  “It’s your sister, Michael.”

  “Satin, what about her?”

  “One of my ladies just called me. She said that fucking ape, Lou-Loc, is uptown kicking your sister’s ass in the street, like some whore.”

  “That motherfucker.” El Diablo snarled. “I’ll kill that nigger bastard. Where is he, Cisco?”

  “It’s going on right uptown in front of his old building. It was Martina who called and told me. She said that Satin found out they were still seeing each other, and wasn’t happy about it.” Cisco giggled to himself as he heard Diablo relaying the info to Tito.

  “I’m on my way.” El Diablo said out of breath.

  “I’ll meet you there,” Cisco lied and hung up the phone. Cisco sat back in his recliner and turned on the twenty-four hour news channel and waited. There was no doubt in his mind that the plan he had put in motion would make headlines.

  *

  Lou-Loc pulled up in front his old building and got out. As soon as he stepped onto the pavement, a cold chill ran down his spine. He shrugged it off as the jitters, and continued to stare at the building. He had some good times on that block as well as some bad ones, but it had been home for him. This was going to be his last time seeing this building or Martina’s funky ass. Good riddance to them both.

  “You okay, boo?” Satin asked from the passenger side window.

  “I’m cool.” he assured her. He didn’t want to spook Satin, but something didn’t feel right. He looked up at the window and saw Martina looking down at him. They were supposed to meet in front of the building so why the hell was she still upstairs?

  “Come on so I can get outta here,” Lou-Loc yelled up at her. Martina looked down at him and grinned, but made no move to come down, which only aggravated Lou-Loc. He knew what kind of games Martina liked to play so, if she thought that she was going to dupe him into coming up then she had another thing coming and apparently so did Lou-Loc. He spun around just the Cadillac pulled to a screeching halt at the curb.

  *

  Martina watched Lou-Loc get out of the car and stoop down to talk to Satin. “So, that’s his new bitch, huh?” She said to herself. As Martina looked at the features of the small woman in the car she had to admit, the girl was pretty. As Lou-Loc strolled towards the building, she put on her brightest smile. Mister lover, lover was about to get his.

  Martina saw El Diablo’s red hog bend the corner, and suddenly felt as if something was very wrong. Cisco never said anything about El Diablo being involved. When she saw the gang leader hop from his car and rush at Lou-Loc, she knew that Cisco had played her.

  *

  “You fucking tar baby, what have you done to my sister?” El Diablo fumed as he rushed Lou-Loc.

  “Huh?” Lou-Loc asked dumbfounded by the man in the suit running towards him.

  El Diablo swung a wild punch at Lou-Loc which he easily sidestepped. Without trying to gain his balance, he swung another blow. This time Lou-Loc grabbed his arm, and rabbit punched him in the stomach, folding him. El Diablo had quite a rep with a blade or a gun, but he wasn’t a very good fighter. “Y.. you, bastard, I’ll kill you for what you did to my sister,” El Diablo wheezed.

  “Man, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t know you or your sister,” Lou-Loc told him.

  “Michael!” Satin yelled getting out of the car.

  Suddenly the pieces fell into place for Lou-Loc. “Wait a second, this goofy mutha fucka is the notorious El Diablo?” Lou-Loc couldn’t help but to laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

  El Diablo sat on the floor looking from Lou-Loc to Satin in a state of confusion. His sister didn’t have a mark on her. Her hair wasn’t even out of place. Somebody had looped him, and he knew just who it was. El Diablo was about to get up and explain himself when he noticed two young boys running up behind Lou-Loc. Everything that happened next seemed to go in slow motion.

  “What’s up now, Blood,” one of the boys shouted, raising a .45.

  Instinctively Lou-Loc reached under his shirt where his gun would normally be, on
ly to find himself clutching air. “Shit,” was all he could say.

  The first boy cut loose with the hammer, hitting Lou-Loc in the gut and staggering him. Lou-Loc looked down at his bloodied shirt confused and then up at the boy who had shot him. His face twisted into a mask of anger and he staggered towards the boy. The boy hit him again, this time in the shoulder, but Lou-Loc kept coming. He could hear Satin screaming but for some reason he couldn’t see her anymore. Everything was getting blurry, but anger willed Lou-Loc on and he tried to close the distance between he and the boy, who looked bewildered at the fact that Lou-Loc was still standing.

  A second boy joined the first, this one carrying a machine gun at the same moment Satin came into view. She was standing between them, shouting something that Lou-Loc couldn’t understand. In what felt like slow motion Lou-Loc saw the boy raise the machine gun and point it at Satin. He heard the distorted sound of the first of several bullets expel from the machine gun. With the last bit of strength he had he shoved Satin out of the way and received the bullet that was meant for her.

  Time sped up again and the machine gun roared to life. Bullet after bullet slammed into Lou-Loc, lighting him up like the forth of July, and finally dropping him. Even as his body was ripped to pieces as the boys dumped rounds into him, his killer’s instinct continued to will him forward. On hands and knees Lou-Loc crawled towards the boy, determined to keep their attention off Satin. When he reached them he grabbed at one of the boy’s pant legs futilely and was rewarded with a kick to the face, putting him on his back. Lou-Loc was trying to say something, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was blood.

  The boy carrying the .45 knelt beside Lou-Loc’s body and pointed the gun at his face. “This is what you get for fucking with El Diablo,” he shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. “You got any last words?”

  Lou-Loc fought through the pain and found the words. “Harlem Crip, faggot,” Lou-Loc spat blood into the boy’s face.

  The boy wiped the blood from his face with the back of his shirt. “Fuck you and Harlem Crip,” the boy pulled the trigger. He dumped shot after shot into Lou-Loc until he finally stopped twitching. For good measure he dumped two slugs into his face. “Long live El Diablo. LC Blood for life,” the boy threw up his set and spat on Lou-Loc’s corpse. With that the two gunmen took off running.

  El Diablo, who had been shielding Satin, tried to hold her back but she broke lose and rushed to Lou-Loc’s side. “Lou-Loc,” Satin whispered as she watched her man’s life blood run into the gutter. His handsome face was torn to shreds and his clothes were soaked with blood. “Oh, baby,” she sobbed as she knelt beside him. Blood soaked through her sweat pants but she didn’t even seem to notice. “Get up Lou-Loc, we’ve gotta catch the plane to Miami,” she shook him, but Lou-Loc was silent. “Look what they did to my St. Louis. They even messed up your braids,” she stroked his bloody skull. “It’s okay; I’ll just do them over when you wake up. Oh, Lou-Loc, why you leave me, papi? You said we were getting married, what happened? You said you always kept your promises.”

  Snake Eyes pulled up just in time to see his friend stretched out on the ground. When he got Lou-Loc’s message about going to Martina’s, he knew something was fishy. He had renewed the lease a few months ago so there was no way it could’ve presented a problem just yet. Tears welled up in Snake Eyes’ eyes as he watched Satin kneel over Lou-Loc with a vacant look in her eyes. Of all the times he had pulled Lou-Loc’s ass out of the fire, this was one time he couldn’t.

  El Diablo walked up timidly and reached out to his sister. “Satin, I’m sorry for your loss,” he said sincerely. El Diablo extended his hand to try and help his sister up.

  Satin looked up at her brother as if she was seeing him for the first time in her life. The words of the shooters that had connected El Diablo to the assassination played over and over in her head. Suddenly the look of sorrow on her face was replaced by rage. “This is your doing,” Satin hissed.

  “Satin, I swear on everything I love that I had nothing to do with this,” El Diablo tried to tell her but it was as if she couldn’t hear him.

  “All he wanted to do was walk away from this color war, but you couldn’t see it. You just couldn’t see me happy, so you took the only man I’ve ever loved,” she snapped. “We were going to get married on the beach, did you know that?” She asked holding up her now bloody ring. “We were to be married in Miami, Michael. We were going to buy a house and fly Aunt Selina down to take care of her, did you know that? You took him from me, you bastard,” she snarled, eyes suddenly glazed over with madness.

  The look in Satin’s eyes frightened El Diablo and he began to back up. This was not the little girl he knew, but a woman who had just lost her lover and blamed him for it. He looked to the car to motion for Tito, but he was long gone. It was just brother and sister.

  From the car, Snake Eyes watched the whole thing unfolding. When he realized what was about to happen, he moved to stop it, but with his bum leg, he was too slow. Satin’s hand dipped into her purse, and she came out with her pistol. Without so much as blinking, she squeezed the trigger. She was so distraught that she didn’t release the trigger until the clip was empty. Snake Eyes made his way to Satin and took the gun from her, but it was too late for El Diablo as he lay on the ground with six holes in his $3,000 suit. His little sister, whom he had raised and nurtured as a child, had sent him home. For him, the game was over.

  The police arrived on the scene too little too late as usual. Snake Eyes wasn’t there from the beginning, so he couldn’t really say what happened, but you know how people in the hood are. They love an opportunity to get a story ass backwards on the news. Snake Eyes was so distraught by the loss of his friend; he didn’t much care what they said. He had one brother in a coma, and one in heaven. He had seen it so many times that he was numb to it. Another young brother claimed by the streets.

  Snake Eyes walked over and looked down at his mutilated friend. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, and he didn’t care who saw. “You’re free now,” he whispered, “go on home, cuz. The pain is gone and you’re free. I love you, my nigga, and I’m glad you ain’t gotta suffer no more. Go on and rest.”

  Satin walked in a daze as two female officers escorted her to a blue and white, reading Satin her rights. If she understood what they were saying she made no indication of it. All Satin did was sob and repeat Lou-Loc’s name over and over. Snake Eyes knew that no matter what she told them that she was going to jail. Regardless of how it went down she was a young Latina with a gun and that was all they needed to build a case. He would provide her with whatever legal assistance he could, but it didn’t look good for Satin. If they were lucky she would spend the next few years of her life in a mental institution instead of prison.

  CHAPTER 25

  Lou-Loc’s funeral was held at midnight at a large funeral home on the Westside of Harlem. Normally they would’ve never agreed to the late night service but Snake Eyes had called in quite a few favors to make it happen. No one understood why Snake Eyes had scheduled it for such an odd hour and when he was asked all he would say was “So that those closest to him can say their goodbyes. This is how he would have wanted it.” What he meant only Snake Eyes and Lou-Loc knew and neither of them would tell.

  It was supposed to be an intimate gathering for friends and family to send off their loved one but it turned into a huge event as ballers and other criminal elements from every coast came to pay their respects to one of God’s most thorough soldiers. They laid Lou-Loc out in a solid gold casket, with a six pointed star carved into it. Because of what happened, they had to make it a closed casket funeral, but there were pictures of him all over. Snake Eyes took the picture of Lou-Loc and Satin at Six Flags, and put it in the casket. He would’ve wanted her close to him.

  Martina, of course, showed her ass at the funeral. She was crying and falling out in the lap of any nigga that was willing to keep her ass from hitting the floor. On two separate occasions, Snake
Eyes and Pop Top had to keep Sharell from swinging on her.

  Snake Eyes and Pam took Lou-Loc’s money and did the right thing with it. With part of the money, they started The St. Louis Alexander Scholarship Fund for underprivileged children who couldn’t afford to go to college. With the rest of the money, they set up a trust fund for Malika, so she would have all the advantages life had to offer.

  As expected the police gave Satin a hard time about the murder of El Diablo. Snake Eye was prepared to go as hard as he could to defend Satin on his own but as luck would have it he didn’t have to. When his father had gotten wind of all that had gone down he came out of retirement to take the case and brought his old legal team with him. They couldn’t get the charges dismissed completely but they were able to get them significantly reduced. The girl was a shell of her former self and most days all she did was stare out the window or weep until the point that she had to be sedated. After several interviews with Satin the state’s psychiatrist deemed her unfit to stand trial. After some bartering they agreed to place her in a mental institution where she could be cared for properly. They all prayed that one day Satin would snap out of it and return to her former self but it didn’t seem likely.

  Snake Eyes’ last order of business was Lou-Loc’s work. All his thoughts, memoirs, and everything he put to paper were typed up and put on files which were submitted to different publishers. At the time there wasn’t really a market for the street stories Lou-Loc wrote so the publishers thumbed their noses at them, but this didn’t stop Snake Eyes. He and Pam put some money together and started Harlem Publications, which specialized in stories about urban communities and the people who came from them. Within a few years everyone was trying to get on the bandwagon that would go on to be called Urban Lit, but it was Harlem Publications that was the blueprint for the fledgling genre.