1. Kenyon Keyes
1
Kenyon Keyes
Y anking the comforter back, subtle sounds downstairs had me grabbing my gun from the nightstand. I lived alone, but my brother, Kross, had a key. He usually never popped up without calling or texting first. Since there weren’t any, I stood up and crept to the doorway.
The hallway was clear, so I tiptoed down the stairs. Nothing looked out of place, and the front door was still locked. Rounding the corner, the box of cereal slipped as her eyes widened, staring down the barrel of my gun.
“Jesus Keyes! What the fuck!” Sydney yelled.
I sighed, relieved it was only Sydney, and set my gun on the counter.
“My bad. I forgot you were here.”
“You need to remember!” she groaned, rolling her eyes, visibly shaken. “Walking around like a fuckin’ power ranger pulling guns on people!”
Sydney lowered to the floor, trying to steady her hands to gather the cereal in a pile. She failed miserably because it reminded her why she had called and asked if she could stay here for a few days. Guilt filled my chest, squatting down to help. After all, it was my fault that sleep didn’t come easy, and our baby was gone.
“I can clean up my own mess,” she huffed.
You’re doing a piss poor job was the first thing that came to mind. Thankfully, it didn’t come out of my mouth, so I left Sydney to struggle alone, walking to the cabinet to grab a bowl.
“Those nasty ass Fruity Pebbles belong in the trash anyway.”
“Every time I come over here, there’s a fresh box in the pantry,” Sydney shoved me in the back as she went to grab the broom.
“Your greedy ass has to eat something.”
A giddy smile tugged at Sydney’s lip as she swept the cereal into the dustpan.
“Gee, thanks,” she finally rebutted.
“You’re welcome. What do you have planned? Laying around eating Fruity Pebbles.”
“No. I have class, thank you very much. Don’t talk about my cereal of choice when basic ass Frosted Flakes are your favorite.”
I knew asking had the potential to ruin her day, let alone the moment, but Sydney was my best friend long before we started bonding over fat asses in Spanish class. Some days she was more than that, so it fucked with me hearing her cracking voice asking if she could stay for a few days.
“You feelin’ better?”
Sydney adjusted on the barstool and cleared her throat.
“I’m okay,” but even a convincing liar like Sydney couldn’t fool me.
“Would you-.”
“Yes, Keyes,” she sighed, cutting off my sentence. “If I weren’t, I would tell you.”
Kissing Syd’s forehead to avoid saying the wrong thing, I walked upstairs to start my day, especially since I was running behind.
I hopped in the shower and recalled the morning she woke up with a flat tire because Sydney couldn’t drive for shit. It was a reason I never got behind the wheel with her, but she had a big presentation that she couldn’t miss.
Despite her terrible fuckin’ driving record, I gave her my car. I thought nothing of it until Kross called in a panic. My car was fucked, and Sydney miscarried our child, causing internal damage that would make it hard to conceive.
I pushed the images of my car, balled up out of my head, and climbed out of the shower. Sydney was slumped against the counter, staring at the tile in a daze. She noticed I was watching her and undressed to take a shower of her own.
“Don’t be in there all day playing with yourself. Otherwise, I’m going to start charging your ass for wasting my water.”
Sydney laughed dramatically before returning, draped in a gray towel.
“Put it on my tab, jerk.”
“The thing about a tab is you have to pay up one day.”
“I will. One day.”
She dropped the towel and peered over her shoulder, inviting me to join her. It would’ve been much easier and more direct to say the words, but Sydney didn’t have the courage today. Reliving the past had a way of sucking her dry.
As good as her chocolate skin looked stepping inside the shower, I had business to handle.
“I’m out. Make sure you lock up and set the alarm,” I announced, and Sydney nodded, disappointed that I was clothed on the opposite side of the glass door. “Call me if you need me.”
Sydney sucked her teeth, picking up on the concern in my words. “Bye, Keyes.”
I locked up and drove to the warehouse, pulling around and keying in the security code. Shaudi and Nolan were sitting at the round table with a few of our lieutenants already and a few still missing.
“Preciate’ you covering the count,” I said, greeting Nolan with dap before turning to Shaudi.
“Kross pulled up, so we had an extra set of hands.”
I nodded, sitting beside Shaudi and propping my feet on the table. "How is everything looking?”
“Streets eating this shit up like candy,” Nolan replied.
“That’s what I like to hear. Everybody on time?”
“Yeah, Trindon is on his way.”
“Cool.”
Kross emerged from the back, wrapping up a phone call. After sliding his phone into his pocket we slapped hands.
“Can you meet with Javier? I got some shit to do at the club.”
“Nigga, no. It’s your turn. Figure it out.”
“ It’s your turn ,” Kross mimicked, “Grow up and stop bitching.”
My parents always said I marched to the beat of my own drum. Kross said I just liked doing the opposite of what’s asked to piss people off.
“Says the nigga that can’t balance his priorities.”
“I came in early to help with the count. Now, I have something to do, so have your ass at the meet.”
“My father is dead. I don’t need another one.”
Kross tilted his head because the shit coming from my mouth still surprised him. “What is wrong with you?” I shrugged, and he shook off my comment, which dredged up old emotions.
“I have club business to handle. I’m out.”
“What do you pay Megan for if she can’t get it done?” I asked, referring to the club manager.
Kross damn near chained himself to Utopia like it couldn’t function without him despite having employees in place.
“That’s the price you pay for accepting deals. I’m out.”
“The contractors are coming in two hours, and I have to be there.”
“Stop running your mouth and take Javier his cash,” Kross smirked, heading toward the back door.
“Just remember yo’ Daddy ain’t here to stop me from whooping your ass,” I yelled just as he reached the metal door.
“You couldn’t take me as kids, and you can’t take me now.”
People who didn’t know us would be alarmed by the way we spoke to each other. They’d assume it was a deeper issue, but that’s how we talked. Kross got on my nerves, but there wasn’t a nigga walking this earth that could take up that tone with my brother and not have to see me for it.