One

Jasmine sat silent, stone-faced, and confused.

“Did we answer all of your questions?” Agent Dowd asked her.

She closed her eyes. All she could do was wonder if Nico was fucking Mia at that very moment as she sat in a room full of FBI agents trying to convince her to become a snitch.

“Jasmine, if something is on your mind, now is the time to speak,” Agent Battle said to her.

“You wanna know what’s on my mind? I ain’t no snitch!—That’s what’s on my mind. What’s on my mind is, why the fuck am I sitting here? Why the fuck I ain’t see a judge yet? Why the—”

“Jasmine, you’re right. You’re not a snitch,” Agent Dowd said, quickly interrupting her rant. “What did we tell you twenty minutes ago? We told you that we want you to be a source. There is a huge difference between a source and a snitch.”

The room went quiet. Jasmine looked at the agent and rolled her eyes.

“So, yeah, like I said, I wanna see a fuckin’ judge. Y’all trying to isolate me, like I’m some dumb bitch or something. I don’t wanna be your source. Lock my black ass up. Do whatever the fuck you feel you gotta do. But I tell you one thing—Y’all better come correct, because I’m gonna make sure my lawyers go so fuckin’ hard on y’all asses for embarrassing me at the restaurant and having me in custody for more than twenty-four hours without seeing a judge. Hello! This is New York City. I know my rights. I’m suppose to see a judge within twenty-four hours!”

Agent Battle, the only black agent in the room as well as the only female agent, motioned to the other two agents to keep quiet. She pulled up a chair, placed it right in front of Jasmine, and sat so her torso was facing the back of the chair.

“So you a ride-or-die chick? You gonna ride for your man because he loves you, right?”

Jasmine looked at Agent Battle and didn’t say anything.

“Your pussy is just so tight and juicy that you know that nigga loves you, right?”

“Whateva.”

“Jasmine, I been where you at—Fuck this badge!” Agent Battle unclipped her gold shield from her belt and threw it on the table behind her. “I’m talking to you straight up as a black woman. You sitting there now with an attitude and think you can handle anything that’s thrown at you, but I’m telling you that your life ain’t worth no nigga that’s fuckin’ the next bitch as we speak. You would have to be crazy.”

“I would have to be crazy? But how do I know them photos are real and it ain’t no Photoshop tricks?”

“The photos of Nico with Mia?” Agent Battle asked, just to be clear.

“Yeah. I mean, those pictures could be old.”

“You right. They could be old, they could be fake, but ask yourself this—If your pussy is so good, and Nico is so in love with you, how come you ain’t lawyered up right now?”

“Y’all muthafuckas got me in here handcuffed and isolated from everybody, just like I just finished saying. Can’t nobody help me if they don’t even know where I’m at. What the fuck?”

Deep inside Jasmine wondered if Agent Battle was right.

Agent Battle picked up her badge from off the table and clipped it back onto her belt. She knew she had to be careful, because the FBI desperately needed Jasmine to cooperate with them, and they didn’t want her to call their bluff and continue to insist on being formally arraigned in court.

Agent Battle motioned to Agent Dowd to undo the handcuffs on Jasmine’s wrists, and she walked out of the room without saying anything.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck? I’m tired! I’m hungry! I wanna either go home, or I want to see a judge. I got civil fuckin’ rights that y’all are violating.”

Agent Battle came back into the room and handed Jasmine a cell phone. “Call your man,” she said.

“Thank fuckin’ God!” Jasmine immediately dialed Nico’s number, but it rang out to voice mail.

***

Mia loved riding Nico’s dick in the reverse cowgirl position. As she ground her pussy so that every inch of his dick was inside of her, she couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down her face. She was glad her back was to Nico because she didn’t want him to see her crying.

Mia cupped both of her breasts and pinched her nipples. Nico’s dick inside of her had never felt as good as it did at that moment. Just as she was about to explode, she could hear his phone vibrating in his pants on his bedroom’s hardwood floor.

“Don’t answer it, baby,” she softly pleaded in a moan mixed with a teary voice.

Nico clearly wasn’t as into the fuck session as she was. He lightly tapped her twice on her ass cheeks and told her to get up for a second. After she slid her pussy off his dick, he sat up on the bed and quickly reached over and picked up his pants from off the floor. He grabbed his cell phone and looked at it without answering it.

Mia ran her hand down her face while she sat on the edge of the bed. She was trying to wipe away the tears. “Everything okay?” she asked him, her eyes red.

“You was crying?”

Mia stood up and walked over to Nico. She buried her head into his chest, and her tears instantly began flowing again. She held on to Nico as she sobbed.

“The fuck you crying for?”

“Because I’m so happy right now. You make me feel so good,” she replied, Nico’s rock-hard dick pressing up against her thigh as he scrolled through his phone, looking at his text messages.

Mia looked up at Nico as she held on to him. “Baby, I am so sorry for what I did. It really was nothing, really nothing at all. I was just tore-up drunk, high, and confused, and things just happened,” she explained. “I love you.” She kissed Nico’s chest.

Nico didn’t immediately respond, and before long, his cell phone was ringing again. Mia asked him again not to answer it, and she bent down to her knees and began sucking on his dick and massaging his balls to keep his mind off anything but her.

***

Jasmine ended the call without leaving a message for Nico.

“I need my phone. He ain’t answering because he don’t pick up numbers he don’t recognize.”

None of the agents replied, and Jasmine decided to try Nico a second time, with no luck.

Jasmine didn’t want to show it, but she was annoyed. She didn’t know what to make of it, but she didn’t want to assume anything.

“Jasmine, he’s not answering because he’s concerned with one thing, and that’s looking out for himself. You really need—”

“I really need my phone,” Jasmine said, cutting off Agent Battle.

“No. You really need to look out for yourself and seriously consider what we’re asking you to do.”

At that moment one of the agents who had left the room came back with Jasmine’s cell phone and her oversized Gucci bag, which he placed in her hands.

“You’re free to leave,” Agent Battle nonchalantly said, surprising Jasmine. She handed Jasmine her card. “Think about the evidence we have stacked against you. Think about your future and give me a call. But, either way, we’ll be in touch.”

Jasmine took hold of it, looked at it, and placed it inside her bag. She stood up and prepared to leave.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Jasmine asked.

Agent Battle told Jasmine to follow her, and she escorted her down the hall. Jasmine’s high heels echoed throughout the halls as she walked.

“When you’re done, you can take that elevator down to the lobby,” Agent Battle said, and she returned to her office.

Jasmine went inside the bathroom, washed her hands, and threw water on her face. She shook her head when she looked in the mirror and saw how ragged she looked with bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She was thankful she had a pair of sunglasses in her bag. She reached for them and put them on before fixing her hair.

After she used the bathroom, she called Nico again. This time, after the third ring he picked up. A relieved half-smile appeared on her face before she sighed into the phone and spoke.

“Oh, my God, baby, where are you?” she asked, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

“Where the fuck you at?” Nico barked into the phone.

“What you mean, where am I at? I’m in the precinct.”

Nico hesitated before speaking. Jasmine’s words were echoing because she was still inside the bathroom, but he had no way of knowing that. He pushed Mia’s head away from his dick and motioned for her to stop pleasuring him.

“Why your phone echoin’ like that?”

“Nico, I don’t know. I just want to go home. Come get me.”

“Come get you? You with the lawyer?”

“Why are you asking me a million and one fuckin’ questions? Shit! Just come pick me up, so I can get the hell outta here. We’ll talk when I see you.”

“A’ight, I’ll hit you right back.”

Nico called his lawyer, and the lawyer explained to him that he was still trying to find out where Jasmine was. He told him that Jasmine wasn’t at the Midtown South Precinct when he got there and that the cops wouldn’t give him any information on her. Then he went to Central Booking and she wasn’t being held there. The Manhattan District Attorney’s office also wouldn’t give him any information.

After Nico ended the call with his attorney, he called Jasmine back. “Where they holding you at, baby?”

“Downtown, on Reade Street.”

“What happened to the murder charge? What they saying?”

Jasmine sighed with annoyance. “They didn’t charge me with nothing. NYPD held me for eighteen hours, and then they transferred me down to the feds, and I been down here for eighteen more hours. And I’m tired, I’m aggravated, I’m dirty, I’m hungry, and I want to get the fuck outta here.”

“So all they did was question you?”

Jasmine kept her mouth shut, her blood beyond boiling.

Nico was quiet, his brain working, trying to figure out what was up. The NYPD couldn’t hold her for twenty-four hours unless she saw a judge, so he was real suspicious and feeling paranoid. “A’ight, Reade Street, right?”

Jasmine sucked her teeth and sighed.

“Give me forty-five minutes, and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”