Hell to Pay

Chapter 1

Armias “Ali” Pierre

“She gettin' fucked tonight, she gettin' fucked tonight. Stop callin' her phone, she gettin' fucked tonight. Blowin' down her line, you the buster type. Knowin' that you lyin', we don't go for the hype…”

“STOP CALLING MY PHONE I’M GETTING FUCKED TONIGHTTTT!

” Nazaria screamed while backing into me.

I had a blunt in one hand and a red cup filled with ice and Hennessy in the other.

Between being high and buzzing, I was in a chill mood and vibing.

Naz being loud and over the top did nothing to disrupt that because that had always been her personality and it matched the environment we were in.

However, I instantly grew aggravated because she had her phone in my face, recording and shit.

“Man, I know you not on live right now,” I scowled while moving my head away from her front camera and pushing her hand away.

“Boy, no,” she laughed. “I’m just recording on my camera.”

“Oh, alright,” I nodded, while still eyeing her skeptically.

Naz had always been popular locally dating back to her teenage days and it reflected in her follower count across all social media platforms. She had over 10,000 followers on Instagram and it was easy to see why.

She was a pretty, thick fine caramel beauty and she was always showing off her hood rich lifestyle.

Prior to going to jail she resided in a luxury apartment downtown, she stayed laced in the latest designer, she was always on vacation, and she partied every weekend vip style.

That flashy shit bit her in the ass when she went down for scamming.

She wasn’t the mastermind behind the telemarketing scam that targeted the elderly.

She was merely a worker along with several other people, but she still made over $200,000 and she had to pay it all back.

She had that and then some in her bank account that the feds seized.

She had no proof of legit income to match her lifestyle that she showed off.

I thought she would’ve learned from all that and finally saw that the internet shit was federal.

Specifically if you weren’t living right.

But nope, she came home and hopped right back into the swing of things with social media.

She also didn’t leave the illegal shit alone.

She wasn’t scamming anymore but she was still boosting and selling clothes.

It was a lucrative business for her, so I didn’t blame her fully.

I also had to give her a little credit because she had started a legit styling business.

She was modeling for local fast fashion boutiques in the city, too.

I had urged her to lean into that IG model, influencer shit and to stop playing russian roulette with her freedom, but I think she got a rush from committing crimes.

I knew from my personal experience, but that shit wore off for me in my early 20’s.

I also think she took how lucky she’d gotten for granted because she didn’t really hit rock bottom.

Going to jail for any amount of time was no walk in the park, but two years was nothing for a criminal to walk down.

That was a slap on the wrist, for real. The only reason I was stressed when I did a year in jail was because I was worried about my family.

Naz only had herself to look out for, so she took her time on the chin.

Then when most people caught scamming charges, they lost everything and had to start fresh.

Naz had a stash put up for safe keeping, so when she came home she was still straight.

The feds only took what they had access to.

Within a few weeks of being home she was in a brand new townhouse on the Westbank and pushing a Tesla.

I’d laced her with a nice chunk of change when she touched down, but it wasn’t enough for her to make any major moves.

All the credit for how she was living belonged to her and I’d always admired her hustle.

Quite frankly, whatever she did with her life was her business and I never questioned it.

I never really had room to judge because we were cut from the same cloth.

But lately I found myself wondering what other depth she had other than being fine, obtaining material shit, and stunting for strangers online.

“Yea…wrong bitch.”

“Man, what?” I cracked a grin.

“You must be mistaking me for somebody else cause I know better than to post you in real time. I’m not green like them young hoes you been fucking with.”

She may as well have just said Lourdes’ name because that was the only person she could’ve been talking about.

Naz had always been one of the multiple women I kept in rotation and she was aware of that.

I wasn’t a nigga who lied and sold dreams to kick it.

I always laid my cards on the table and made it clear what type of timing I was on.

Surprisingly, most women appreciated that and it made things more smooth sailing.

I didn’t have women drama because none of them knew each other.

Whenever I had situations where girls started to get attached and showed signs of possessiveness, I distanced myself before shit got out of control.

Naz had always been one of my favorites because stayed in her lane so well.

She never showed signs of jealousy. I could honestly say I never saw her sweat over another female, but she couldn’t stop sending indirect shots at Lourdes and I had to take ownership for that.

I saw Naz as a friend, so I vented to her through a jail call when my emotions were high and I didn’t hold shit back.

That resulted in me seeing another side of Naz that I wasn’t expecting.

In the past, I could tell her anything about the petty problems I was having with women.

It was always a lighthearted conversation like I was talking to one of my potnas.

I started running my mouth before I could fully decipher that it was a possibility that Naz would react differently because everything I’d done with Lourdes had been different.

I recognized Lourdes was unlike any other woman I’d encountered after one night and I handled her like fine China.

I was so hot and heated when I was expressing how she wronged me to Naz that I didn’t realize how unusually quiet she was.

When she finally did speak she played it cool and gave me encouraging words.

But as time went on she’d have little slick comments about me messing with a childish, young hoe and I always ignored them.

Defending Lourdes was the last thing I was going to do, but I wasn’t going to participate in bashing her either.

I really just wanted to forget her but I knew that would be an uphill battle from the second I decided I was cutting her off.

She was making it hard in the very beginning because she kept reaching out to me and pleading her case.

That shit was wearing me down and when I found myself validating some of the things she was alleging I knew I had to block her on everything.

I guess her pride was too high to keep trying after that because she left me alone.

I was never the type of nigga that wanted to be chased but I did question how much Lourdes really fucked with me if she gave up so easily.

It was cool though, because without her constantly hitting me up it was easier for me to push her out of my mind.

I wasn’t going to lie and say I forgot about her completely or that I wasn’t still hurt by her actions, but I was gradually getting back to the old me.

I was spending more time in my barbershops and cutting hair to occupy my time.

I was doing a bunch of fun things with my siblings.

I was hanging with my boys a lot more and I’d gotten back to juggling multiple women.

I was doing anything that kept me busy and distracted.

Naz came home a little early at the end of July and she was something else for me to indulge in.

Our friends with benefits relationship picked up right where it left off.

I let her indirect comments about Lourdes roll off my back because I chumped it up to her just being a little jealous.

That was normally a dealbreaker for me with women but I’d known Naz for so long that I gave her grace.

She was entitled to feel a way about me giving my all to someone new when I never gave her half as much.

I couldn’t even give her a relationship when she asked for it.

That’s why when she got home I moved differently with her.

I allowed her to stay with me until she got settled into her own place, we went on multiple dates, I was bringing her around my family way more, and I was allowing her to claim me.

No, we never had a conversation about being official but she was well within her rights to assume that based on how I was carrying her.

I wasn’t jumping to tell her otherwise because the more we carried on the more I got over that shit with Lourdes.

All that changed when she hit my line a few days ago claiming that she was pregnant with my daughter.

“Say, stop saying dumb shit like that,” I snapped.