He sat in the black CTS and watched the big man standing beside the wide boat of a glistening black Lincoln Town Car. For a pimp Philo Jenks dressed more like a well-to-do businessman than the traditional, stereotypical image of a pimp. His suit was a dark blue silk worth maybe a grand. The black button-down collar shirt was another couple hundred. The pure white silk tie was perfectly straight. The Gucci loafers black and spit-shined to a mirror image.
It was true. Jenks was a big man. Well over six feet six.
The guy had heavy shoulders. Thick arms. Thick legs. All carved out of muscle. Yes. Philo Jenks was a very big man. His face had that battered punching bag look of someone who knew how to brawl in a back alley. Sheer physical size was intimidation enough. But add the scarred, broke
