American Gan

Chapter 6

There were things that you could ONLY learn from the streets. It didn't matter how many Mafia and Gang movies you watched, or what "Urban" college course you took. Nothing could teach you things like being streets smarts could. They taught me how to read a man, I'm talking about exam his behavior. I could tell when someone was lying before they even started speaking. The way this man walked into the room I could tell he was nervous, the way he looked around as if being in daylight and in a public place was going to stop me from doing anything to him. The way he sat down in front of me and looked everywhere but at me. I knew he was going to lie to me. 

I rested my elbows on the table, my head propped up in my hand. I was quiet and it was making him even more nervous. He continued to look around the small dimly lit crowded restaurant. "You see somebody you know?" I simply asked him. 

"Uh, nah... Nah, just a nice restaurant." I nodded my head, listening to him stumble over words. 

I continued staring at him. My face as calm as it could be. "In the movie A Bronx Tale, C loaned this kid 20 dollars and when it was time for C to collect his money the kid avoided him, every time he saw C he went the other way. C got rid of a problem for 20 bucks, that kid never bothered him for the rest of his life, he went out of his way to avoid C." I took a sip of my drink watching his behavior over the top of my glass. The more I mentioned money the more sweat poured from his body. "Now see, in this case, I'm C and you're the kid. The only difference is you owe me 8,000 dollars and that's a very big problem because that's a lot of money." 

"To you, that's nothing Mike, that's like 20 dollars! But you know I'm getting your money, I had a minor set back I got everything in control." He cut me off chuckling. I hated people that cut me off and I hated people that lied. How could a man sit right in front of another man and lie right to his face, without a care in the world.

He was right 8,000 dollars wasn't necessarily a lot of money to me, but it was the principal of the situation, the code, the way things worked. When you take a loan out from a bank and don't pay it back, what happens? They come and take your stuff when you owe back taxes what does the IRS do? They come and take your stuff. I gave this man a loan and when he was expected to pay it back he didn't, so I had to come take his stuff. 

"You don't have everything under control, because if you did you wouldn't be sitting in front of me lying to my face right now, as a man that borrowed 8,000 dollars from another man you never had anything under control. And sure me killing you won't get me my money back, but it will make me feel a whole hell of alot better. Right now I own you, I'm God, you're Man, so I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. My men are at your home right now." I watched him squirm at the mention of people in his home that shouldn't be there while he sat helplessly in front of me. I slid a piece of paper with a pen on top of it across the table in front of him. If you ever wanted to see a man on the verge of tears, all you had to do was threaten his innocent family. 

"Don't worry your wife and child are ok...but you, you are going to write down the codes for the three lock boxes you have in your basement. If these numbers are not correct the first time you write them down, there are two metal drums filled with ammonia sitting in your backyard right now. One for you and one for your wife. It will take no time for both of your body's to dissolve in it." I leaned back in my chair and waited for him to grab the pen. He wiped his palms on his shirt and nervously scribbled out three rows of number. He pushed the paper back in front of me and began looking around again. I grabbed my phone and made the call reading off the number for Ryan to unlock the boxes. After a few minutes, he let me know all three of them were open and full of money. "I appreciate your cooperation, but before I let you go to enjoy the rest of your evening to get home to your wife and kid, I'm sure they could use your affection right about now. I'm going to ask you... You had the money but chose to not give it back, seems like you were planning to skip town." He remained silent, his anger displayed heavily on his face as he clenched his jaw. "That's what i thought."

I hated involving women and children, especially when they didn't know what was going on it was my first rule but I did use them to get my point across. It would have been one thing if it was truly 20 dollars, but it wasn't. It was 8,000 the equivalent of a whole brick. There was no way I was going to let him off. 

He eventually left the state and moved out west somewhere. I guess our meeting was too much of a "close call" and he gave up the whole drug dealing life, I don't blame him. It was hard having a family while in this lifestyle because they were always at risk. No matter how much protection you had around them, they were in danger. If the President of The United States could be assassinated in broad daylight as he road in and open car next to his wife in front of hundreds of people... your family could definitely be touched.

An hour after threatening a man's life and family with death. I found myself in the presence of an angel, just like that I went from being ruthless to weak in the knees in a matter of minutes. I hadn't even known her longer than 72 hours, but I had to admit there was something about her, her smile, how warm and welcoming she was. They were characteristics about a woman that I was used to other than my mother's. She changed my outlook on models, I had always seen them as "unstable creatures" they were easy, nothing much there to talk about, they only cared about what you could do for their careers, what you could buy them, where you could send them. She was different, she was funny, goofy, she was smart, she had a plan and goals she was following.

I stood in the doorway of a warehouse, photography equipment spread throughout the huge space, people scattered around tending to different things, picking up this, fixing that. A woman fixed the lining of her shirt down by her waist. "I'd be lying if I said you looked anything less than breathtaking." I said randomly surprising her, seeing her laugh and blush was something I could get use you, something I wanted to get used to.

"I'd be lying if I said your charm isn't what's scaring me." She teased back, she was able to get me to laugh, and that in itself took the cake for me. "I'd also be lying if I said your smile and dimples weren't the most attractive thing about you." If it wasn't for the fact that I didn't have a wedding ring in my pocket I would have proposed to her right then and there. I sat and watched her model for up to an hour going between looking at her and answering messages on my phone. She had a way of looking at me and getting me to stop whatever i was doing, it was talent if you ask me.

"I'm 27 and originally from LA but I'm out here in Vegas modeling and doing bottle service in between shoots." She pulled apart her soft taco putting a piece in her mouth, even the way she ate was cute. "I mean, it's not that great, but it makes me money, I also get to travel, so I can't complain." 

"You like to travel?" 

"I love to travel! I love new and different environments, seeing different cultures and people. My dream is to go to Africa and South America one day. I have to go to both places before I die. They're on my bucket list." She smiled as she licked taco sauce from her thumb. I too smiled at her knowing that I could personally make this wish come true, along with many other ones. 

"Hmm I go to South America every four months, it's a beautiful place. Africa as well." I watched her frown at me in confusion. 

"You do? For what?... What do you do for a living any way?" She gave me that innocent look as she drank from her straw. There were two ways I could go about this. I could simply disregard the fact that I sell cocaine to corrupt politicians and crooked cops and just tell her I'm heavily involved with charities. Or I could tell her I'm a drug dealer who's cover-up is doing charity. I eyed her for several seconds. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask something that was too personal." She quickly said retracting her original question.

"I'm a drug dealer." I finally answered. She began choking on her soda, she pulled the straw from her mouth and grabbed multiple napkins covering her coughing."You ok?" I asked her as I wiped up the spilled soda on the table. 

"Yeah, sorry." She laughed "I just thought I heard you say you were a drug dealer." She repeated helping me wipe the table. 

"I did." 

"What!? So you... What, like you sell weed or something." 

I chuckled at her choice of the first drug to mention. Although weed was the most addictive, it didn't bring in half the amount of money that cocaine did. Selling weed was kids who got tired of asking their parents for money, yet didn't feel like getting a job so they sold dime bags here and there to their buddies. "Do I look like a senior in high school?" I asked her with a smile. 

"I mean you don't look like you sell drugs, I just figured you were one of the boxers." 

"I do box, I'm very heavy in it. The event that you were bartending at was one of the events I support. I live in New York, but that was why I'm here in Vegas. I fly out to California tomorrow, I have a Lupus event to attend." I smiled, I could tell she was confused, I just told her I was a drug dealer then covered it up with good old charity work. 

She waved both her hands in confusion completely thrown off. "Wait... So then what do you sell? Are you a drug dealer or do you work with charity!?" 

I paused for a moment, I had never been ashamed of what I did. I never had a reason to, not that she made me feel ashamed but I guess this was the first time I ever broke down what I did for a living to someone outside of my trusted group of brothers, but it was something about her that had me spilling business. "I sell cocaine to politicians, the majority of the money I make goes into the many charities I'm involved with. My cover-up is charity." For all, I knew she could have been an undercover cop, but I immediately shook that notion off by her reaction when I first told her. She looked at me, studying to truly see if I was lying or not. I kept a very serious face.

She remained quiet for longer than I would want her too, looking at me, I could tell she was mentally judging me. I calmly continued eating my food patiently waiting for her to gather her thoughts. "I don't believe you!" I laughed at her words and shrugged my shoulders. 

"That's fine... Would you like to tag along?" 

"Tag along!?" Her eyes wide in confusion, she frowned as if I was putting drugs in her hand. 

"Go to the Lupus event." 

"Yeah, I'm going to go to California for a Lupus charity event with a man I literally just met yesterday who calls himself a drug dealer!" I laughed as she broke the explanation down, I wiped my mouth with my napkin and crumbled it tossing it in my empty container that held my food. 

"So, is that a No?" I asked. She did another one of her long pauses looking at me, frowning at me, judging me some more. She folded her arms across the table and leaned forward. 

"No." She replied. I smiled looking at her as she turned her nose down at me.