Chapter 22
Harlem was live like it always was. Kyst had come home per his mother’s request. Shit in Chicago was moving how it was supposed to, so he was in no rush to come back home, but there he was.
The blocks were still overly packed, music still blasted from every car, but underneath all that, Harlem was drying up and Kyst wanted different, he wanted Chicago.
While he was there, he planned to tell his mother and brothers that he decided to move to Chicago for good.
He knew the news wasn’t going to land well because they had never lived anywhere outside of Harlem, and they were a very close knit family.
“Kyst, where is your head?” Momma Lu asked as his brothers looked at him.
All of the Lucas brothers flew in when their mother called.
“I’m listening, Ma. There’s a shortage on your connect’s end.”
She nodded and continued, “Yes, the connect got hit on the water. Kilos are gone, confiscated, and he’s in custody.”
“So what now?” Moon asked, nobody was smiling, shit had just gotten real for the first time in the Lucas family.
They never experienced a drought, Momma Lu always had running water, but the game was changing drastically.
“I have five kilos, flipped them for double, and we find a new connect,” Love chimed in as Momma Lu shook her head.
The room grew quiet, everyone knew what that meant, Momma Lu had a plan, she always did.
“I’ll find another connect. Right now, I want all of you home until I handle it. Without money flow, the streets become hungry, and hunger creates war. I need eyes on all of you at all times.”
Her eyes landed directly on Kyst, he already knew what was coming.
“I heard you,” Kyst said before she could speak.
“I mean it, Kyst. This drought is going to stretch all over. Lord knows I’ll burn the world down if something happens to one of you.”
Their mother wasn’t a soft woman, but something in her voice cracked.
“I got word this morning that Chicago believes someone from Harlem touched their spots.”
Kyst’s jaws tightened because Nyla had also told him that morning that Chello thought that he had hit his spot, but he was already in Harlem when that shit went down.
Besides, Kyst didn’t need to take shit from anyone, well, he didn’t before the drought.
The last thing he would ever do was let his family fall off, the proposition from Londa sounded like a fix they needed.
At least that shit would keep them above water. He had to go back to Chicago.
“That’s cap. Some of them grimy niggas from the city did that shit,” Kyst countered his mother.
Momma Lu folded her hands, “They think otherwise and therefore, I don’t want you out there because I swear, I have no desire to visit Chicago, and if I have to, it won’t be to tour the city.
I know that you’re head over heels for Nyla, but you going back is out of the question.
If she loves you, she’ll come to you, it’s time I meet her anyway. ”
The room fell silent again because everyone understood the real message.
“What about the money that was left on the table in Chicago?” Kyst asked, trying to find a way back to the city.
“I ain’t pussy whipped and we need our bread during this drought. I can go handle shit in Chicago and come right back,” Moon suggested with a smirk that pissed Kyst off.
“Yes. We don’t need no money left anywhere right now,” Momma Lu backed him up.
Kyst had never gone against his mother’s words, but he was a grown ass man that moved to the beat of his own drum. His brothers lived for their mother, but Kyst lived for himself, though he loved his mother unconditionally.
Moon rubbed his hands together, “Ok, lil bruh, feel me in on the Chi.”
“Be careful,” was all Kyst said before getting up from the table, walking off.
He grabbed his keys and walked out his mother’s front door. Though they all stayed on the same block, he didn’t want to be around his family at that moment. Of course, he didn’t make it far before Love walked out and jogged up the street to catch up to him.
“You cool?” he asked, towering Kyst’s five-foot eight-inch frame.
“I’m decent.”
Love chuckled, “You starting to sound like a Chicago nigga.”
The Lucas men looked so much alike, people who didn’t know them could tell they were brothers, height and energy told them apart.
“I thought you was heading home,” Kyst looked back in the other direction where Love stayed with his lady.
“Nah. I wanted to catch up to you, you had that look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“Like you’re ready to do the opposite of what Momma said.”
Kyst nodded, “I am. At what point do we make our own decisions?”
They slowly walked down the street, no entourage, just brothers for once.
“You wanna go back to Chicago, don’t you?”
“I am going back.”
Kyst looked toward the street, “She think keeping us in Harlem is keeping us safe?”
“That’s exactly what she thinks, she feels like nobody can protect her cubs better than her.”
“And you? What you think?”
Love was quiet for a second, then he sighed, “I think you tired.”
That statement caught Kyst off guard, and Love kept talking calmly.
“You been walking in grown man’s shoes since you were young. Everything you’ve done, every dime you’ve made, every near-death experience, every move you make, it’s been about us. About Momma. What about Kyst?”
The honesty in that statement fell heavy between them, Kyst wasn’t surprised by the realness. Love had always been a standup guy, he held no punches when it came to his brothers, good or bad, and Kyst appreciated him for that.
“What’s that?” Kyst chuckled.
“A logical question that I want to hear the answer to.”
Kyst looked ahead again because truthfully, he didn’t have the answer to that question.
Everything in his life had always been attached to responsibility, protect the family, protect the business, carry Harlem.
Even loving Nyla felt complicated because the people around them turned everything into politics and business.
Love stopped walking and looked at Kyst, seriously now.
“Kyst, it’s ok to choose yourself.”
“Yeah? Since when, Love?”
Love nodded slowly like he understood exactly why Kyst believed that.
“Since always. I always told you to be your own man, Ma gon’ be fine. She just getting older, and she’s set in her ways.”
Kyst looked down briefly, he didn’t even think of the fact that Momma Lu was getting old. He was so used to her being the gangster that she was, he never pictured her getting old.
“She is getting old.”
“Yeah, but she gon’ be around for many years to come, go live your life. You love that girl, don’t you?”
Nyla’s face flashed in his head as soon as he heard her name. The way she took care of him without him asking, her smile, her sex, everything about her was perfect.
“Yeah, I do,” he admitted.
Love nodded, “Then stop hiding her… ain’t no way you in love and I ain’t never met sis. It’s ok if I call her that, right?”
Kyst cracked a smile for the first time that night, “Yeah, that’s cool.”
“Cool. Cool.”
Love reached into his pocket and handed Kyst a full set of keys.
Kyst frowned, “What’s this?”
“That Airbnb you stayed in back in Chicago, it’s yours. I didn’t tell nobody about it, not even Momma Lu.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, back when I went to look at it, the owner told me she was selling, so I bought it.”
Kyst wasn’t surprised because Love had properties all over the map, but he wasn’t expecting a spot in Chicago.
“Mine?”
“Yours. In case for once you decide to choose Kyst over everybody else.” Love pushed his index finger into Kyst’s chest.
Kyst was stuck, that shit hit deeper than anything Love had said that night. He stared at the keys in his hand while Harlem hummed around him. For the first time ever, the future felt bigger than the streets, the business, and Momma Lu.
Kyst stepped off the plane and instantly felt like he was wrong.
Momma Lu made it clear that he wasn’t to leave Harlem, but there he was.
Chicago was gloomy, like the city was sad.
Rain hit the windshield of the black truck as he rode in the back, he didn’t have time to rent a car, he wanted to get to the crib so that he could link with Londa and get that work. He hired the driver for the weekend.
Londa texted his phone like she saw him touch down.
Londa: Hyatt Place in Schaumburg. Room 218.
Kyst: Be there in thirty.
Londa: Ok.
Kyst tapped the driver’s seat and told him to go to the hotel instead of the house.
The elevator took him straight up to the second floor, the only thing Kyst was mad about was that he didn’t have a pistol on him, but he would knock Londa’s ass clean out if she tried anything.
He tapped on the door lightly before she came and opened it. She stood there with a drink in her hand and a dress that barely covered her pussy. Kyst stepped inside and immediately noticed a red flag. A tall nigga leaned against the wall like he was security, his eyes already locked in on Kyst.
Londa smiled slowly, “You made it, how was your flight?”
Kyst’s eyes never left the man, “Get rid of him.”
The smile on Londa’s face slowly disappeared.
“Kyst, he’s good.”
“I ain’t ask if he was good, I said get rid of him. I’m doing business with you, not him.”
The nigga pushed off the wall immediately.
“Bro, who the fuck you talkin’ to?”
Kyst looked at the nigga like he was crazy, “A dead nigga if you keep talkin’ to me.”
Londa bit back a smile, she loved that Harlem demeanor. Kyst didn’t act tough, that shit was in him naturally.
“Shorty, who is this nigga?”
“He’s a nigga you don’t want no problems with for real,” Londa quickly answered the guy.
“Yeah aight, you better tell him how the fuck I get down.” The guy pointed at Kyst.
“Slim, step out and let me handle business, please,” Londa demanded.
He nodded and sized Kyst up one last time, the guy was deep in his pride, but he took Londa’s warning and walked out.
“Let me see this shit,” Kyst got straight to the point of him being there.
“Damn, you don’t have to sound so mean,” she rolled her eyes and walked over to the closet, she grabbed a duffle bag and struggled to toss it to him.
Kyst grabbed it and sat it on the bed, he unzipped the bag and there they were, bricks wrapped neatly.
He nodded his head, “Where this come from?”
She batted her eyes and smiled, “I know you know better than to ask a hustler where they get their product.”
“I asked a bitch that knows nothing about the drug game where she got ten keys. Answer me.”
She smirked, “If I tell you I’ll have to kill you. Just know there will be more soon. I need thirty percent off each key since you the one doing the moving.”
Kyst wasn’t the smartest nigga in the world, but he could spot a grimy bitch a mile away. Something told him that he was picking up Chello’s work, he could’ve been wrong, but the answer to his next question would confirm his thoughts.
“Why you didn’t take this shit to yo nigga? Chello move weight.”
Her face told him before her mouth could, she quickly wiped the guilt off her face and replaced it with a smile.
“That nigga moved on and I moved out his way.”
Kyst didn’t reply, he grabbed the bag and told her he’d be in touch in a couple days. Londa walked him out as the tall nigga stood right outside the door. There it was again, that same mug, the mumbling, Kyst couldn’t take it. That shit didn’t fly in Harlem and it wasn’t happening in Chicago.
“Goofass, outta town ass nigga.”
Kyst paused, the first punch landed quick, it echoed through the hall. The guy stumbled backward, falling into the wall before Kyst threw the second punch that put him straight to sleep.
Londa watched with heat in her eyes, God, she loved a dangerous man and that was what Kyst Lucas was.