After ten months of doing the back and forth from Atlanta to St. Louis and vice versa Marcus came to visit Natasha for more than a weekend. The plan is for Natasha to return and spend some time with Marcus in Atlanta.
Natasha thought things had been going great for the first week of the visit like having a live in boyfriend. They went on dates, grocery shopped together and sexed feverishly. They stayed in fixing meals together before watching a movie then again humping each other. Natasha had really been enjoying Marcus’s presence.
She had always thought love had always been unattainable, at least for her.
The two were moving into week two of their blissful union when an unexpected knock came to the door. At least it was unexpected to Natasha because she hadn’t been expecting company to her home. Yet Marcus grinned like the surprise of a lifetime stood on the other side of that door.
“So you are having company now,” she asked sarcastically with a smirk, because nothing more could be on the other side of that door but flowers.
Only to Natasha’s surprise three extra large men walk into her home. Marcus alone is large enough so three more of him walking in created an over bearing atmosphere. Not to mention the guns they were carrying.
Internally Natasha panicked but she holds her composure as she questions.
“What’s going on,” through a shaky voice.
“Well usually when me and my boys meet a nice piece we share. They think I have had you to myself for too long,” Marcus states simply closing the door, turning her home into a prison.
Natasha stood dumbfounded with words stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say or think as she watched them walk around securing doors and windows. But she didn’t dare move.
One of the goons had even ventured upstairs she assumed to do the same with the windows and doors there.
Marcus continues, “So for the rest of my stay we are all going to enjoy you.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. Nor did she like the looks the guerillas were giving her or the smirks they shared with each other when they exchanged a glance.
“I have your cell phone,” he states interjecting her thoughts, waving the phone at her. “The land line as well as the internet connection has been cut and someone will always be at the doors.”
Natasha continued to not speak. What could she say to make them not do this? What could her petite frame do to stop them?
“My boy said you cooked,” one of the goons spoke leering at Natasha like she was the meal.
“Yes,” she mutters.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and change into something nice. You can make our plates when you get back,” another orders.
Without protesting, because what could she say, she moved past the beast at the door taking her nerves upstairs. It isn’t so much that she is scared as it is being caught off guard.
Before she made it to the top step she could hear them laughing at her expense. She listened as they talked about the crude things they wanted to do to her.
Only prolem is Marcus doesn’t know everyting about Natasha’s life like he thinks. He didn’t know that on Natasha’s eighteenth birthday, to get away from her family that consisted of an abusive father and husband, she had enlisted in the army. He didn’t know that three years later the CIA recruited her. Trained and molded her into one of their top sharp shooters.
A few years ago after a few attempts were made on her life Natasha was honorably discharged.
At the landing Natasha didn’t go into her bedroom like she was instructed. Instead she went into her office lightly closing the knobless door behind her.
When did Marcus have time to do this? More importantly why hadn’t she noticed are her thoughts as she moves deeper into the dark room.
Natasha removed her Dorothy Dandridge picture from the left wall. Silently she sat it on the carpeted floor.At first glance no one would notice the structural error in the wall.
Pressing slightly the wall quietly moves back and a safe lifts up. Holding her breath she turned to make sure no one had heard anything. And of course they didn’t over their own loud chuckles.
Reaching into the safe she pulls out a double sided body holster before sliding into it still praying no one heard her. Hoping no one questions why she’s so quiet. Just as she pulls out the two nines that fit the holster the stairs creek. Just as a hand pushes open the closed door she pulls out a shotgun from the same hidden space.
Soon as goon number one walks through the door she let’s off a round from the shot gun through his chest ruining her white walls.
With the others scrambling below her Natasha pulls the first man’s body into the room with her leaving a trail of blood. Positioning herself on the floor she leaves a crack in the door for a clear shot at the next intruder.
She pegged Marcus as the shot caller so he won’t be the next up to see what’s happening.
Just a minute later one of the other goons peaked up the stairs and through the banister. Natasha wasted no time giving him a shot between the eyes with one of the nines. Then she sat and listened as his body dropped back down the stairs.
Two down, two to go.
As she waited she took the phone off the body next to her and dialed 911.
“Some men are in my house. If you don’t get here soon they may all be dead.” Then she laid the phone down and listened to the whispers below.
“Man what you got us into?”
“You need to go get her,” Marcus demanded.
“This yo shit you go get her, got me in her with the fucking female Jason Bourne,” the last goon countered.
Natasha listened as they argued below her. She thought she would give them time to draw straws then decided she couldn’t wait there forever.
Over their whispered arguing Natasha opened the door wider to slide out. After stopping to listen more to the location of thir voices she slid her body slowly to the top of the stairs unnoticed. Peeking through the banister bars she could see the left side of the last intruder. Sending a single shot through his neck she watched as Marcus turned a stunned eye on her.
Watching his boy drop to the floor to all the color from his face.
“I don’t know if you got this yet but I’m not your average chick.”
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