by Mark Anthony
“So what’s your situation? Are you signed to anybody, are you looking to get signed or what?” G-Baby asked.
Angela jumped in and took over the discussion from that point on.
We eventually left the building, not with a contract in hand, but we did leave with some serious consideration on our side coming from G-Baby and Gun Clap Records.
The three of us exited the office building and I know that everyone was feeling good. G-Baby had promised to get back in touch with us, and I really believed him. I just kept wondering what had happened to Horse.
Ironically as we crossed the street and made our way to the parking garage, a young lady came over to me and asked if I was Jessica Jackson. Actually I don’t know if calling her a young lady is the correct term to use, because although she was young, about twenty-four years old or so, as rough and masculine as she looked, it made it hard to call her a lady. She looked more like a butch.
“Yes, I’m Jessica. Is there some sort of problem?”
“Nah, were you just in the building looking for Horse?” the butch asked in her saggy jeans and white wife-beater with very saggy, uninviting-looking titties.
“Yes I was but he—”
“Yeah, he’s there now, he wanted to speak to you real quick. Can you come back wit’ me to see him?”
Feeling a bit relieved because we would in fact finally get to see Horse, I smiled and said to Angela and White Lines, “See something must have come up … I knew that he wouldn’t just give me his word like that and then not show unless he had a good reason. He was probably running late or something … Come on, let’s go back and see him real quick.”
“Nah, yo hol’ up. All of ya’ll can’t fucking come! Only you, the rest of ya’ll just fall back a minute. We’ll be right back.” the butch said in her masculine-sounding voice.
Immediately my radar went up. I didn’t know what to think. Something didn’t seem right. I started to call Horse on his cell phone but that would have been dumb considering that I was right down the block from his office and he was supposedly waiting for me to come up.
Why didn’t he just call me on my cell phone? I thought to myself. Maybe G-Baby didn’t really like White Lines and he relayed that to Horse and Horse wants to break the news to me and let me tell Angela. I didn’t know.
I didn’t have much time to think and I didn’t want Angela getting annoyed so I quickly spoke up, “Here, Joey, take the parking stub and get the car and the two of you can meet me in front of the building … By the time you pull around I should be done.”
Angela butted in with words that sounded like she was highly annoyed. But she was cut off by the butch who told her that Horse didn’t have all day and that I had to hurry up.
As Joey and Angela headed for the parking garage, the butch and I quickly crossed Seventh Avenue. I was walking in my Manolo high-heel shoes and I couldn’t walk as fast as the Timberland-boot-wearing gangster girl. Just as we reached the office building the butch stated that we weren’t going into the building but instead we had to go into Sbaro’s restaurant.
“Sbaro’s?” I asked with a puzzled look on my face.
“Yeah, we’re not eating anything, we just gotta see somebody.”
My law enforcement instincts took over at that point and I knew that something was definitely up.
“Um, what is your name?” I asked.
“Trina.”
“Trina, I think I’ll just wait out here on Seventh Avenue. It’s too crowded in there,” I said, stopping dead in my tracks.
“Jessica, what the hell is wrong with you? Bring your ass on!”
The butch looked disgusted but I had no idea where she was bringing me. She immediately got on her cell phone and began dialing.
“Yeah, she said she ain’t coming in … How the fuck do I know? You speak to this bitch! ’Cause she’s getting on my nerves! Word … Look, if you don’t speak to her I’m bouncing and leaving her right the fuck here!”
I had no idea who she was talking to but I took the phone as the butch handed it to me.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jessica, this is Cynthia, I had met you at a video shoot a few months back.… You probably don’t remember me but we definitely did meet. Anyway, the only reason that we wanted you to go inside Sbaro’s is that we got twenty-five-thousand dollars for you but it’s all in cash. And it’s better to deal with that kind of cash in a very crowded spot in case somebody tries to rob us or something like that,” Cynthia stated in a whispering kind of tone.
“Cynthia, I really don’t remember you. But what I don’t understand is why the need for all of that cash?”
“Didn’t you hear on the news about how Gun Clap got raided and all of that? Well the Gun Clap bank accounts are still frozen and we can’t wire money or write checks or anything.”
I was ready to ask Cynthia, if the Gun Clap bank accounts were closed then how did they get access to so much cash? But the rule of investigations is do not ask too many questions and do not seem overanxious, and at the same time I knew that I couldn’t be too cautious or too apprehensive because after all, why would someone such as myself, a modeling entrepreneur not want to take the cash payment that was due me?
“Okay, Cynthia, no problem … Yes … Okay … All right, I’ll put her back on the phone.”
I handed the phone back to the butch and she spoke two words into the phone and then hung up. After which I followed her as she walked upstairs to the second level of Sbaro’s and headed toward the bathroom.
My heart was racing because I didn’t know what was up, but common sense told me that I wasn’t getting ready to see Horse.
The butch knocked on the bathroom door two times and then paused and knocked two more times. The door opened and I saw another butch-looking female standing inside the bathroom holding a backpack.
“Come in real quick and count the money to make sure it’s all there,” the first butch said as the second butch held open the backpack to show me that there was indeed a large sum of money inside the bag.
“No, I trust you. I know that it’s all there. Cynthia told me it was twenty-five grand and I know—”
“Bitch, get the fuck in the bathroom!” the first butch said as she cut me off in the middle of my statement and pushed me into the bathroom.
The second butch locked the bathroom door so that no one else could come inside. And before I knew what was going on I had the barrel of a chrome .45 handgun jammed inside my mouth by the first Timberland-wearing saggy-jeans butch. The gun had been jammed so hard inside my mouth that it felt like one of my teeth had been knocked loose and it also felt like the gun was touching my tonsils.
“If you scream I’ll leave your brains right here up against this bathroom wall! Matter of fact they’ll be using your brains on the muthafucking pizzas downstairs.”
With my heart racing a mile a minute, the only thing I was thinking about was my family who lived out on the West Coast in California, as well as my fiancé who was still in St. Louis and had begged me not to come to New York for this assignment. I held my hands up in the air to show surrender. I couldn’t talk because the gun was still in my mouth and gagging me.
“Bitch, I’m gonna ask you this one time and you better fucking tell me the truth!”
The only thing I could do was keep my eyes wide open and I quickly nodded my head up and down to indicate that I would tell the truth.
“Are you a fucking federal agent?”
My heart literally dropped to my toes, but I had to quickly gain composure, and I immediately thought back to how we were trained in the academy to spot a liar, and I made sure not to make any of those liar mistakes.
“I shook my head from side to side and I tried to speak the word no, but with the barrel of a gun jammed in my mouth it wasn’t that easy to do.
The next thing I knew, I was slapped across the face with the barrel of the gun and I immediately fell to the ground. And at the point the second butch approached me and stood ove
r me and pointed a gun to my head and cocked it.
“Please don’t kill me!” I sincerely begged for my life.
“I should kill this bitch right now! I know she’s a fucking cop or some shit! I can smell it on her Halle Berry–lookin’ ass!” the second butch stated.
At that point my cell phone began to ring.
“Don’t answer that shit! ’Cause you got about two seconds to explain how the fuck Horse got raided!”
My eyes got even wider as I knew somehow my cover must have been blown.
“One!”
I pleaded, “Okay, no, no, please, please, just let me talk for a second … Please,” I begged. Feeling like I was ready to literally crap in my pants.
My cell phone began ringing again.
“Don’t fucking answer that phone! Bitch, you got one more second … You better tell me something!”
“Look! I’m not a cop, I’m not an FBI agent, or anything like that!” I said as I was breathing real heavy and practically hyperventilating. “I don’t know where all of this is coming from. All I do is run my modeling agency…” I said as I lay with my back on the hard tiled bathroom floor. I was about to force myself to cry, just to make it look good. But at the same time I wanted to cry because these two chicks looked like they meant business.
“Two!”
“Wait! Wait please! Oh God no!” I screamed as I held my hands up, preparing to fend off the hot slug that I was anticipating receiving.
My cell phone began ringing again, and I was sure that it was Angela wondering what was taking me so long to come out of Horse’s office.
“I can prove to you right now that I’m not a cop!” I stated in a desperate attempt to save my life. “Look inside my bag and tell me what’s in there.”
The butch kept the gun cocked to my head and nodded for the other woman to look inside my bag. I prayed like hell that somebody might try to come inside the bathroom but that just wasn’t happening. Then I thought that whoever had ordered this job on me must have covered themselves and they probably had somebody camped outside the bathroom preventing others from coming inside.
“Yo, this bitch got like an ounce of fucking coke in her bag!” the butch yelled.
“Look, I’m telling you I’m not a cop! Cops can’t do drugs! I’ll snort that shit right here in front of y’all to prove I’m not a cop…”
The butch placed some of the coke on her tongue to verify that it was indeed cocaine.
“Yeah the shit is real,” she confirmed.
The other butch with the gun to my head wouldn’t relent.
“So fucking what! Cops do muthafucking drugs! Y’all are the law! Y’all do everything else illegal!”
Now I didn’t know what to do.
“Yo, let her snort this shit,” the butch stated, as they both made sure not to call each other by name.
“Sit the fuck up!” I was ordered.
As they handed me the coke and asked me to snort it, one of the girls placed a call on her cell phone.
I quickly put some of the coke on my pinky fingernail and snorted it up my nose. I could hear the girl on the phone saying that she thought I was clean.
I began to feel a bit more relieved but I knew that I wasn’t in the clear just yet, as I was ordered to snort some more of the coke.
“Bitch, if you’re lying to me, I swear to God that I will find you and kill you! You hear me?” the lady asked as she pressed the gun against my temple.
I quickly nodded my head and snorted some more coke. My cell phone began ringing again.
“Okay, yeah … A’ight. No doubt.… One!” the other butch said as she spoke into her cell phone, sounding more and more like a man.
“Pull your skirt down!” the second butch ordered.
“What?”
“Pull your skirt and panties down!”
“I’m not a cop! Please believe me. I’m not wearing a wire,” I desperately stated, thinking that was the only reason that I could have been asked to pull my skirt and panties down.
“I said pull your goddamn skirt and panties off!” the butch yelled as she ripped open my shirt.
At that point I began crying but I complied and pulled off my skirt and panties and I remember thinking that all of the so-called glitz and glamour of my job had quickly faded. The reality of my actual job set in big time. The reality was that I was dealing with hardened criminals with rap sheets lengthier than a football field. Yes, they may have been successful people with money but I was in the belly of their world and I was beginning to feel their wrath.
Fortunately, I had been smart enough to anticipate what I would do as a last resort in a situation like this one. See, I knew that I could not have a badge or any kind of FBI credentials on me. I knew that I could not always have some type of recording device on me. And I knew that I couldn’t carry a gun with me at all times because that would make me look suspicious and in a situation like I was presently in, it would have gotten me killed. But I knew that if I always carried an ounce of cocaine on me, that as a last resort, when and if I was confronted like I presently was I would snort the cocaine in order to prove that I wasn’t squeaky clean. My status as an agent would be doubted.
“Look at that pretty light-skinned pussy!” one of the butches stated.
My heart began racing again. I now knew that these two women, if you could call them that, were not just looking for a wire. Sticking her middle finger in her mouth and taking it out and sticking it between my legs, the dyke-butch came close to my face and kissed me on my lips while she placed her finger inside me. Besides gasping from the pain that her finger caused, I showed no emotion and I was thoroughly disgusted as I was being raped by another woman.
“Hell nah, she ain’t a fucking cop!” the butch said, as she laughed and then licked on the finger that she had just had inside of me. She stuck her finger back inside of me and said, “If she was a cop, she wouldn’t let me play with her like this…”
A tear rolled down my eyes, as I was now in a hugely tough position. I now knew that Horse had backed out of the meeting because he must have somehow been tipped to the fact that I was an agent, but tipped off by who? I was feeling like the investigation might either be stalled or have to end because if I reported this to my lead agent he would have pulled me from the investigation and rained down fire from heaven on Horse and his people, something that would have brought me a sense of vindication for what I was presently going through, but I would have felt like a complete failure. Also what about the cocaine that I had snorted, the Bureau knew nothing about me carrying that cocaine and they definitely wouldn’t have backed me and sanctioned that. They would have had to uphold their rules for the sake of the integrity of the FBI, and therefore probably would have suspended me or even fired me.
Those were the thoughts that ran through my head. My cell phone continued to ring off the hook and I knew it was Angela but I couldn’t answer it. I couldn’t answer it because I was now being raped by two butches who had ordered me to the floor and simultaneously probed my vagina and my anus.
“Yeah she ain’t no cop! Not with this pretty pussy she ain’t.”
“Jessica, you’re gonna cum for me, okay?” the butch said as she removed her stained white wife-beater and exposed her unsightly National Geographic–looking saggy breasts. “After you cum you can put on your clothes and go,” she added.
I was then instructed to close my eyes and just relax and I was assured that I wouldn’t be killed.
CHAPTER SIX
After I had been attacked in the bathroom, the two dykes left me on the floor to fend for myself. I had a million and one things flowing through my head and as I made it to my feet I gathered my things and made it into one of the bathroom stalls. A frightened, disgusted, hysterical wreck is probably the best way to describe how I felt as I sat on the toilet bowl and tried to gather my senses.
I remember thinking to myself that I was definitely gonna get my own vindication—I didn’t need the Bureau to back
me, I was originally from Compton, and although I was a pretty girl, I had a hustler mentality that was laced with a hood mentality. I knew what being street was all about and I knew that if they suspected me of being an agent then I definitely had to get street on their ass or else risk everything!
What was weird is that the cocaine that I had snorted began to kick in and it definitely helped to medicate some of the damaged feelings that I had running through my system. I couldn’t believe that I had just been raped by two dykes. Not in my wildest and most fearful dreams did I ever think that I would have experienced anything like that during my career.
I reached for some more of the cocaine and as I prepared to snort it my cell phone rang. I immediately recognized that it was Angela.
“Hello,” I said as I tried to appear like everything was okay with me.
“Jessica are you okay?” Angela asked. I was surprised that she was actually showing some concern for me.
“Hold on, hold on a minute,” I said as I put the phone down and snorted some more of the cocaine up my right nostril. Closing my eyes and quickly jerking my head I ran the palm of my hand from my forehead all the way down to my chin and then I wiped my nose with the back of the same hand.
“Angie, I’m sorry I took so long … I’ll explain things to you later. Look, just have Joey drive the car and you guys head back to Queens. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I’m done.” I spoke as normally as I could for a person who was feeling both high and humiliated at the same time.
“Take your car? How much longer are you gonna be?”
At that point I snapped because I just wanted to be left alone. “Angela, just take the fucking car and go! I’ll catch up with you later!”
“Jessica, watch your fucking mouth! Are you with Horse? What did G-Baby tell him? Do you think they’ll sign White Lines?” Angela’s questions were normal questions but I just couldn’t explain to her anything that had transpired because I didn’t want to blow the investigation.
