Chapter 3
“Love and Moon gon’ come looking for yo ass if we stay in Chicago another week,” Banko, Kyst’s homie, said while chilling in their Airbnb.
“Good. They need to get the fuck out New York anyway,” Kyst replied with his foot resting on the coffee table and a blunt in his hand.
Kyst was loving Chicago, the whole city was lit, everybody outside of those niggas that tried to press him the other day.
Kyst came from the streets, so their little hood tactic was understood and respected, but he was no longer in that part of the game.
He and his brothers went semi-legit a few years ago, but they had no problem painting any city red if need be.
Gangsters and heavy in the streets of Harlem were the Lucas.
“You know niggas ain’t never leaving Harlem, especially not for this,” Banko said.
“This city beautiful as fuck, I’ll move.”
“I bet you will, ole girl got your attention.”
Nyla was cool as hell, her conversation was on point, and she had shit going for herself, he liked that. Kyst couldn’t lie, Banko was spot on, Nyla had his undivided attention. Yes, he had a bitch back home, but shit had been rocky for months.
“Facts.”
“Yeah ok, it’s all good until Ty come lookin’ for you.”
“Ty ain’t bringing her ass to Chicago, and what happens in Chicago stays in Chicago.”
“Nigga, I don’t need a peptalk. You just better make sure Ty and Nyla don’t cross paths.”
Everyone in Harlem knew how crazy Ty was, especially when it came to Kyst. For five years, he put up with Ty and her toxic ass ways.
It was cool at twenty-three, but at twenty-eight, Kyst was on some different shit.
He wanted a wife and kids, and he knew Ty wasn’t his wife, she was too crazy to be tied to forever.
He tried leaving her, but she ran every female he fucked with away.
His family hated her, especially his mother, so that was a red flag.
His mother was a sweet woman, but she had another side that no one wanted to see.
The queen pin of the state but not a soul could look at her and tell.
The Lucas family was one of one, a woman and her boys; she taught them the game and they were playing it safe.
Their businesses kept their money clean and their names off the radar.
Momma Lu could have any nigga’s head in seconds and her sons would be the ones to collect.
“Nigga, you got a lot to say about me, but you been smiling at yo phone every two minutes.”
“This ain’t about me, I’m single.”
“Shid, me too. I’m tired of Ty.”
“You the one been protecting her from Momma Lu, Ty would’ve been dead.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Kyst grabbed his phone off his lap as it alerted him of a text.
Nyla: What’s up, New York?
Kyst: Chillin’, what’s up with you?
Nyla: Nothing much, had a quick break before my next client and thought about you.
Kyst found himself doing the same shit he called Banko out on, smiling at his phone.
Kyst: Cool, cool. Thanks for thinking of me. Let’s do dinner tonight.
Nyla: Ok, I know a spot.
Kyst: Bet. Text me the location when you’re ready.
Nyla: Ok.
No sooner than he laid his phone back down, it rang. Ty’s ears must’ve been burning because they were just talking about her.
“Yeah, Ty?”
“Yeah, Ty? What the fuck you got going on in Chicago? You been up there for a week, whoever shorty is, I hope she can fight.”
Kyst put the phone on speaker and laid it back down to roll a blunt.
“What’s up, Ty?” he asked again.
“I miss you, when you coming home?”
“I’m handling business, I’ll be back when I’m back.”
“You think I won’t come to Chicago? Them hoes don’t scare me, and don’t forget I got people out there too, nigga.”
She talked all that shit but he had eyes on her, too, and he knew she was fuckin’ with other niggas. Where they differed, he didn’t give a fuck what she had going on, but she went crazy at the thought of him moving on.
“What’s up, Ty?”
“Bye, Kyst. Stay with whatever bitch you with.”
She ended the call and all he could do was shake his head.
“You got a problem on yo hands with that bitch.”
“I ain’t got shit. Get herself killed if she want to.”
Kyst was the baby, and his people did no fuckin’ around when it came to him.
The crazy part was, out of all his brothers, he was the most laid back; however, he was the deadliest. Kyst was either zero or one hundred.
He smoked so much weed because if he ever stopped, he would start smoking people and he was trying to stop that shit.
“Aye, I’m cool with staying out here,” Banko said, kicking his feet up.
“Good because I’m not going back until I have our product in every hood out here.”
“We can’t just move on somebody else’s territory.”
“You either with or against or you’re in our way.”
A mission was what he came to Chicago on, and he wasn’t leaving until it was accomplished.
He was there doing homework, he knew better than to pop up and open shop immediately; he needed to know who the movers and the shakers were.
From what he was hearing, Chello and Tyzir were at the top of the food chain.
One thing Kyst knew for sure, the heavy in the game always had someone heavier than them on the team.
He needed to know who that person was for Chello and Tyzir.
Kyst sat across from Nyla, he couldn’t lie, she was beautiful and very much his type.
On top of that, she was cool, like one of the guys.
She was well-rounded, perfect ratio of sophisticated and ghetto.
He could tell that she came from a respectable home in the hood, probably with both parents.
They never talked about their personal lives, until that moment.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked followed by a smile.
“When you see something beautiful, you admire it, right? Kinda like you did my car that night,” he chuckled as she laughed.
“Boy, I didn’t know you was sitting in that car, you scared me so bad,” she said in between giggles.
“I didn’t mean to, but I’m glad I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m chillin’ with the prettiest woman in the city.”
“How you know I’m the prettiest? You haven’t seen all the women in Chicago,” she quizzed, sizing him up with a smirk on her face.
“I don’t need to. Your mother must be a beautiful woman.”
Kyst watched as her facial expression changed.
“She was a beautiful woman. My mother died when I was sixteen, she was hit by a stray bullet.”
His heart ached for her; he couldn’t imagine losing his mother.
“My condolences.”
“Thank you. Yeah, she died, and my brother raised me. Never knew my father.”
“Your brother did a great job.”
“I like to think so, too. Enough about me, what’s life like back in Harlem?”
“Harlem is Harlem, same shit different city.”
“Any wives, girlfriends, baby mommas?”
Kyst thought for a second, should he mention Ty? She wasn’t any of the titles Nyla named.
“None of the above, but I do have a crazy ass ex that won’t let go.”
Nyla raised a brow, “I don’t understand why y’all love crazy females. My brother attracts them like flies.”
“They never start out crazy, it always happens once you’re too far in.”
“So, you’re far in?”
Momma Lu always told him the truth was worth way more than a lie, so Kyst was probably the most honest nigga walking the earth.
“I was but shit ended years ago. My ex is a different breed.”
“Should I be worried?”
Kyst looked at her and shook his head, “Nah, y’all will never cross paths.”
“Good, because I’ll be in New York for a hair show in a few weeks and I don’t want any problems.”
“What part?”
She smiled, “Harlem.”
Hearing that she was coming to his city was like music to his ears; the way she was showing him a good time in her city, he was going to do the same.
“Need a ride from the airport? Where you staying?”
“Nah, I got a car and an Airbnb, Jada is coming with me.”
“Cool, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself. How I get tickets to the show to support you?”
She blushed, “I got you.”
“Aight, hold the crazy ex. I don’t want no smoke but I ain’t duckin’ it either.”
That intrigued Kyst a little more, he kind of wanted to see that side of Nyla because the type of nigga he was, he couldn’t have a pushover as his woman. Something told him Ty might’ve met her match.