Hood Life and Love: I Am What I Am

Chapter 8

"Why?"

I heard Terrance ask, but I waited until the man limped out of the door. I let it close as my mind went into overdrive. Why had I agreed? Everything about that man smelled like trouble and I knew if I didn't nip it at the source, he wouldn't go away, and killing him could be a problem if his boss was as powerful as he showed. I lived in the land of powerful men and sometimes a message is all that was needed.

Terrance came to stand before me, his face scrunched in confusion. "Why did you let him leave?" He asked again.

"Two reasons," I told him as I watched the car disappear. "The first one is that we have no idea who we are dealing with. The second is because this is not my first encounter with old boy."

"You seen him before?" Joey asked, coming to stand before me as well.

"Earlier today at Aldi's," I said, looking at the invitation in my hand. They all started talking at once. My eyes traced the black ink of the signature. Claude Balthazar.

"Whoever they are, they been watching us. I saw him again when we got here. We have nothing to go on but a name and a servant. By tonight I wanna know everything there is to know about Claude Balthazar. We can meet at location two tonight. Once we know who he is, we can move accordingly. Dale, get some of the lil' locs to scope out this address. When they move I wanna know. If they in business with anybody, I wanna know and I wanna know what he moving."

"What you think he on?" Dale asked.

"I don't know, but he wants the meeting on his terms and he may not be the kind of man to take no for an answer. That guy was more willing to die than to leave with a no," I said.

"You see how he ate that bullet?" Joet asked.

"With no fucking problem," Terrance said.

"I got a bad feeling about this y'all," Leo muttered.

I didn't reply. It went without saying that I felt the same.

*****

The rest of the day was uneventful. Besides a few texts from Geo that I ignored, nothing much happened. It was unusual that he texted me so much and I kept thinking about the way he was looking at me at Big D's. It was unnerving and while I could come up with a hundred ideas as to what he meant, I refused to give it too much energy. However, each text was more and more intriguing and it took a lot for me not to reply to him. Terrance was with me, though, and I didn't want any issues there. Not from Terrance, but Geo was a trip sometimes.

I made my rounds, checked in with some of my girls, and collected some bread. I had got out the dope game years ago. Instead, I invested in real estate and I now owned two, four-family flats. They were both nice and while I rented out one, the other is where I made most of my money. I didn't like to be called a pimp, but my current illegal dealings had a lot to do with pimping. I considered myself more of a manager. My second flat had ten girls living in it and they all were okay with making their money lying down. I supplied them with what they needed and took a cool eighty percent of what they made. though,

They got food, clothing, a place to live, and, above all else, protection. I had strict rules that they all had no problem following and they were never treated like shit. I treated them like employees. They had off days and insurance and they were free to leave anytime they wanted to. In two years, only four women had left. It was mostly due to them falling in love with a nigga or they got knocked up and wanted to do more with their lives. I understood both points of view. This line of business was much safer than drugs or guns, and the time for the crime was way less.

Like everything in my life, it had fallen in my lap. I would never in a million years have thought about setting up sex for niggas and making them pay. However, a few years ago it was tossed my way. I had met a few chicks who were pretty as fuck, had nice bodies, and were willing to fuck for nothing. We used to have parties at the T's house almost every night. It started small, just us hanging out playing spades and craps, but like most things we did, it got big. With all the extra bedrooms, we never minded if one of the guys used a room and took a chick upstairs.

One day, a guy approached me. He was a friend of T's and he had been eyeing one of the pretty chicks. He asked if I could hook him up. I had jokingly told him to give me five hundred dollars and he could get an hour. To my surprise, he had asked if a rack could get him two. It had thrown me for a loop, but I recovered quickly. Money had a way of making you make up your mind real quick.

I had a quick conversation with old girl and offered her three. She agreed, with no hesitation. I cleared a room and made it happen. I guess you could call her my bottom bitch, as she was still my number one money-maker. That's where it started, and it grew until my home started to feel like hoe house and I bought the flats. My chicks, on average, brought in eight racks a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

That's not to say everyone was done with drugs. Some of the guys still dealt with it, some of them with guns or other things. I preferred what I did to all that. It was easy money. With what we made at the studio, and the flat I rented out, we were set for the time being. I had never stopped looking for that golden ticket, though, as I knew a good thing could only last so long.