Warren was a pimp down in los Angeles, he was spinning a wheel down at the table, doing another win it or lose it. Warren was a better, he loved to gamble.

You were on his lap, you were his biggest money maker, a pretty thing you were too. Warren had a tight grip on your thigh, there was light bruises on you but were covered by makeup. Warren often took his anger out on you when he lost a bet,

“Sweetheart, go get me a beer, yeah?” he slapped your ass as you stood up.