Free A Hustler's Son II by T. Styles

removed they rings and acted like they was single just to get a better lap dance from the baddest stripper’s in New York. Big Kuntry’s, The Baddest blared from the speakers as the dancers did what they did best. Seduce. I had my mind on one thing. Murder.
    The only thing ‘bout my plan was if Kyope really knew my mother outside of her being just Jarvis’s girl, he’d recognize me. Even with the shades I never took off. From what she told me, Jarvis and Kyope were always together. Outside of bein’ a little older, my features were the exact same. I did allow time to grow a beard which is one of the reasons why I didn’t approach him right away. My only flaw was the tattoo I had on my arm. I got it after my moms died. It read, Kelsi AKA K-Man loves you Ma. RIP . K-Man was the nickname she gave me which I use to hate. What I wouldn’t give to hear her say it now.
    As always, Kyope’s crew was loud. I counted four of them. Kyope ain’t say much, but his squad was on some other shit. I sat quietly in the table next to them. I could hear every word they said… clearly .
    “I’m ’bout to tell you what happened again cuz I know you don’t believe me,” Prangsta said, after they all took they seats. He had on a heavy red jacket even though the weather outside ain’t call for all that shit. I’m pretty sure he was concealin’ a weapon. “I went to this club a few months back and these two bitches asked me over to the bar. So I goes ova and we get to drinkin’…and they start talkin’ ‘bout all the shit they wanna do to me. You shoulda heard em’!”
    “Hold up,” Spikes, another one of Kyope’s crew members interrupted. He rubbed his chin and looked up at the ceilin’ briefly. “Did they start stroking your dick at the bar and offer to take you to the bathroom to fuck?” he questioned Prangsta.
    “Yeah,” Prangsta nodded, excitedly. “How you know? I told you this story already?” They all looked at each other and exchanged dialogue with they eyes. Once again he was swag jackin’.
    “Nigga you ain’t tell me that story. I told you that story! Always stealin’ other niggas lives cuz ya own shit too borin’.” They all laughed while Prangsta did his best to conceal his embarrassment.
    I learned from my surveillance that Prangsta was the muscle but also a liar. He would tell stories other people told him like he actually lived it. The thing about it was, he really believed half of the shit he said. The nigga is pathetic. But outta all of ‘em, he was the one I had to worry ‘bout. Not cuz he was vicious but cuz he acted on impulse.
    “That shit ain’t happen to you! It happened to me!” Prangsta responded.
    “Nigga, stop lyin,” Kyope laughed. “If it wasn’t you, it wasn’t you.”
    “I’m serious, man! That shit did happen to me! Straight up!” Prangsta put his right hand on his heart and placed the other hand in the air like he was bein’ sworn in or some shit. They all busted out in laughter and his hands fell to his lap in defeat.
    “Put ya dumb ass hand down! Ain’t no need in talkin’ ‘bout it no more. You takin’ lives! Simple as that,” Spikes sat back in his seat and folded his arms.
    They all laughed harder.
    Spikes and Prangsta stayed goin’ at it. Like brothers. Tall with deep dark skin, Spikes reminded me of Stringer Bell from the show, The Wire . From what I could gather, Kyope trusted him more cuz on more than one occasion, he and Kyope would leave the others to talk privately.
    “Ya’ll laughin’,” Spikes continued. “But this nigga be really believin’ half the shit he tell us.” The laughter softened and Kyope focused on Spikes.
    “You laughin’, Spikes, but how come none of us have ever seen you wit’ no certified bitch? You act like you don’t fuck wit’ pussy, I ain’t even sure if that story Prangsta tried to jack was really your story.” They all cosigned and waited for his answer.
    “You don’t see me wit’ none cuz ain’t no