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Once he made it to the interstate, he rolled down his window and tossed all the cell phones he had on him as he tried to figure out exactly where he was heading next.
Fifty-One
The raid in Liberty City was so big, it managed to make national news broadcasts. All of the lead FBI and DEA agents, local police, and federal and local prosecutors held a major press conference, where they had all of the drugs, guns, and cash they had confiscated on display on long tabl
es. The officials took turns coming to the microphone and explaining how grateful they were to have put such a dent into a drug distribution network that spanned the East Coast from Miami to New York City.
Agent Gosling basked in his glory as he stood behind the microphone and spoke about the case. It was rare for agents who worked undercover in the field to show their face the way Gosling was doing, but as he explained to the cameras, he was going to be retiring from the bureau in a few short weeks, and this major drug bust was the perfect way for him to cap off his career.
Homicide was in a Bally Total Fitness gym working out. He stopped and walked over to the flat-screen, tuned to CNN. He listened closely, and as he listened, he seethed with anger. He knew Agent Gosling was Jasmine’s case agent, from what Jasmine had told him.
He stormed out of the gym and sped over to the Brooklyn Bridge and into Manhattan, where he weaved in and out of traffic until he got to Jasmine’s apartment. The doorman knew Homicide and waved to him as he walked to the elevators.
Homicide banged on Jasmine’s apartment door, and after a few minutes she answered the door with her robe on.
WHACK!
Homicide punched Jasmine square in the face, and she saw stars and fell backwards and tripped on to the floor.
Homicide stepped into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind him. “You fuckin’ lied to me, bitch!”
Jasmine didn’t know what was going on.
“Were you fuckin’ Gosling?”
Jasmine’s eyes got wide. She didn’t know where all of this was coming from because she hadn’t seen the news. “No!” she shot back.
All Homicide could think about was how all the drugs and the cash that the feds got could have been his, had Jasmine tipped him off.
Homicide picked Jasmine up from the ground and started to smack her around. “Tell me where Gosling lives! I know you were fuckin’ him!”
“Baby, what is going on?” Jasmine screamed at the top of her lungs.
“The feds got the stash, and the only way they knew was because you put them on to it. I know it, and don’t fuckin’ lie to me!” Homicide pulled out his gun and aimed it at Jasmine’s head. “Were you fuckin’ Gosling?”
“No, he raped me!” she said, hoping Homicide would go for her lie.
“Get the fuck on your knees right now and put your hands behind your back and face the wall!”
“Why, baby? Why?” Jasmine pleaded, her trembling hands in the air.
“Where does Gosling live?”
“Floral Park!” Jasmine shouted. She had no choice but to tell him because she knew she was a dead woman otherwise.
Homicide knew about the panic button on Jasmine’s phone and wouldn’t let her get near it. She had told him what he wanted to know, but because she had caused them to lose out on millions, she had to endure a beating that lasted all night.
***
To prove her loyalty to Homicide, Jasmine drove him to Agent Gosling’s house once she was certain he was back from Miami. They went to the house when it was late at night and pitch-dark.
Jasmine was dressed in a sexy silk robe with nothing underneath. She rang Gosling’s doorbell, and when he asked who was it, he was pleasantly surprised to hear Jasmine.
As soon as Gosling opened the front door, Jasmine held open her robe. She had on a lot of makeup on her face and her body to cover up the bruises from the beating she had suffered at the hands of Homicide.
“The case is over. You can fuck me the way you want to now.”
Gosling didn’t even need a Viagra pill for his dick to get hard at the sight of Jasmine’s naked body standing on his front steps. “Come in.”
