by Jewel Geffen
They came from such different worlds, had lived such different lives... What possible relationship could the two of them have? How could she fit into his life, and how could he into hers?
It seemed impossible, and she didn't like thinking about it. She didn't like to think about losing him.
The hands of her wristwatch ticked slowly around. Fifteen minutes. Then twenty.
“Where are you, Jordan?” she actually spoke the words out loud to herself, then flinched at the sound. She couldn't just wait here. She took a deep breath, counted to thirty, then took out her phone and dialed his number.
She held it to her ear, listening to the ringing. Waiting to hear his voice. Nothing. It rang and rang, then finally went to voice mail.
“Goddamn it!” she hissed, and stuffed the phone back in her back. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and looked herself hard in the mirror. “Do not do this, Nat, do not.”
Acting on a sudden surge of energy, she yanked open the door and stepped out into the night. A cold chill whistled through the alleyway, the first breath of winter in the autumn air. She wrapped her arms around herself and she trotted quickly across the sidewalk and up to the doorway, the door itself still hanging slack in the frame, the lock broken.
“This is such a bad idea,” she whispered. And then she went inside, vanishing instantly into a darkness which was total and complete, and wholly enveloping.
A strangled cry echoed down the hall from far away, and a moan that could have been coming from one of the building's residents, or may have just been the old building itself, groaning in protest.
Natalie couldn't help but wonder if that sound was going to be the last thing she ever heard. She braced herself, and she went deeper into the building.
It was intermittently dark inside, bare bulbs flickering in the darkness, shining in the gloomy corners, making jittery and indistinct shadows dance on the walls. Where was the room Melvin was supposedly hidden in? On the second floor, wasn't it? She had to find the stairs.
Natalie dug into her purse, hands shaking with fear, and she pulled out her cell phone and switched on the flashlight.
Bright white light flooded the dingy hall, so harsh and so sudden that it blinded her for a moment. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes she saw a dark shape coming through a doorway just ahead of her, a toothy white smile with a glint of gold.
She screamed and stepped back, tripping on a bit of debris, her arms shooting out to watch herself. The phone went flying, spiraling through the air and shooting bright light as it turned. She landed hard and smacked her head against bare concrete and it all went black.
Chapter Thirty
She woke up in a featureless basement, surrounded by unfinished concrete walls on all sides. Her hands were cuffed behind her, fastened to the metal frame of the chair in which she was sitting.
Then the slow scrape of metal against concrete; a chair being dragged towards her by the man who'd threatened her in her car. Tyson. One of the leaders of the Death-heads. She swallowed hard.
“You shouldn't 'a come here. You really shouldn't 'a done it.”
He started to go through her bag, tossing her identity cards out until he'd found her license. “Natalie Kendall... Address in the Hamptons, very fancy. Hello, Natalie.”
“You're making a big mistake, Tyson.”
He laughed coldly. “I don't think so. I'm not the one handcuffed to the chair. I'm thinkin' maybe you messed up, Natalie Kendall. You shouldn't never 'a come sticking your nose around here. You really fucked up, counselor.”
Then he took out a pistol.
She felt a horrible sensation of panic clawing up inside herself. “It doesn't have to be like this, Tyson.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. Maybe you can convince me not to put a bullet between those pretty blue eyes of yours.”
“And how would I do that?”
“I been hearing about you and Jordan. Hear you got a thing for the brothers, know what I'm sayin'? It's like that expression, yeah? Once you go black... you never go back. Heard you give a nasty blowjob,” He came to his feet and started coming towards her, “You been wasting your time with Jordan. Maybe I oughta show you what a real black cock looks like.”
“Fuck you.”
“Something like that.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Where are you, Jordan? She thought desperately, pulling against the cuffs until they bit into her skin. There was no give, no chance of escape. She was trapped her, at the mercy of this merciless man.
This couldn't be how it ended, could it? She had never felt so afraid in all her life.
Tyson stood over her, his legs spread slightly and his lips twisted in a cruel grin. He pulled his belt loose and let his pants fall. He held the gun in one hand and took his dick out with the other.
Natalie grimace and turned away.
“Uh uh uh,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly, then brushed the pistol against her cheek. “I ain't tell ya you could look away. Have a peep. Tell me what you think of a real man's cock.”
She opened her eyes slowly, reluctantly.
His penis was right in front of her, not six inches from her face. Not six inches, actually, described the organ itself just as well. He looked like he was erect, and not much bigger than Todd, certainly nothing to compare to Jordan. She was so taken aback that she forgot to be afraid for a moment. Her first impulse was to laugh.
It wasn't a small penis, exactly, but from what he'd been saying she was expecting to see something monstrous and impressive. What Tyson had, as it turned out, was nothing more than average.
“It's... really good...” she said awkwardly.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “you love it. Little ho, you love the black cock. Go on, give us a kiss, babe.”
“How did you, um...” she asked, desperately trying to buy some time to think, “how did you know about Jordan and I? About the blowjob, I mean.”
He licked his lips, stroking himself with one hand while he gripped the pistol with the other. “Had you followed, yeah? After I knew you was getting up to shit, I put a man on your pretty ass. Little bird sitting there in the window when you got on your knees for my pal Bishop. He told me all about it. Matter of fact...” his smile widened, “got myself some pictures too.”
Jesus, that was all she needed. Assuming she survived this, it could be a problem. “Enjoy them?” she asked.
“All night long, baby,” he chuckled, giving himself a little tug, “all night long.”
“I just... I just don't understand. Why do you care what I do, anyway? Tasha's innocent, you know that. Why do you care if I defend her? You're a criminal anyway, what's it going to hurt?”
Tyson licked his lips as he looked down at her. He seemed to be weighing a question, as if considered what he was prepared to tell her. Then he shrugged. “Weren't no fucking accident, what happened to the girl. She's a present for the pigs, yeah?”
Natalie blinked. “What... what do you mean?”
Tyson grinned. “A man's gotta make a living, doesn't he? That means sometimes you gotta make a deal with the devil. I got contact with the PD, ya know? They look the other way, I toss 'em the occasional bone to make it look like they doin' shit. It was time to pay up, let 'em catch somebody. And when I hear that one of my dealers, some low-level punkass, is putting it to that fucker Bishop's little sister, well... I got to thinking.”
Natalie felt her jaw drop. “You mean... Tasha was supposed to be caught?”
Tyson crouched down in front of her so that they were looking eye to eye. He waved the pistol casually in her direction. “Ya know, for an educated lady, you ain't half as smart as you think you is. Bishop ain't either. I leaned on the kid, told him to put the dope in the girl's trunk. Then I tell my friends the pigs to pull her over. They work their magic, trump up some crap and find the shit. She goes down. The pigs are happy, I don't lose any of my guys, just some cheap dope, and I get to fuck that self-righteous prick Bishop right where it hurts.
”
“Oh my God...”
He spread his hands, smiling broadly. “Nice and neat. Very clean. But then...” he tapped the barrel of his gun on her knee, and shook his head, lips pursed, “then you come along. The kid gets cold feet and starts talking about turning himself in. Got his head all turned around by that sweet little pussy, yeah? I stashed him here and put him under guard to cool his shit until the trial's over, and everything's sorted.”
She swallowed. “Then we started looking for him.”
Tyson grinned. “Now you're following me. And now I got a problem. I'll be honest, though, I didn't think you was gonna fucking find the place. That fucker Skulls is gonna get his head stomped when I find him. But... I'm just upset, you know? I had everything worked out real clean, and then you two stuck your noses in and now it's messy. Now I gotta explain to the cops why some pretty rich white lady gone missing, and just hope nobody saw you come onto our turf. Lot of problems for me, yeah? The pigs don't mind if we niggas waste one another, but they get real testy when somebody like you takes a bullet, know what I'm sayin'?”
She felt a cold sweat running down her back. “P-please, please, don't kill me, you, y-you don't h-have to do that.”
He shook his head, getting back to his feet, clicking his tongue again. “I dunno. I mean, I don't wanna kill you. Make too many problems for me. But then... I can't really let you go now, can I? You're just gonna keep making problems for me and mine.”
“No!” she blurted out, “I won't, I won't, I swear. I'll, I'll forget all about this, really! It'll be like it never happened. I'll make s-sure... I'll make sure she goes to jail! I can do that! I'll keep it quiet, please! I'm a lawyer, you know how it is, you know. I don't give a shit about her; it's just money, just money. I don't care.”
He leaned in close and looked into her eyes. She could feel tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yeah...” he said, “you real frightened now, but then... what about big bad Bishop? From where I'm standing it looks like, well, ya know... looks like you got kind of a thing going with him, yeah? When you get outta here, you just gonna run back to him and start making problems.”
“I'll give him to you!” she said, “I know where he is, I'll tell you, I'll tell you anything you want, I swear. You can kill him, I don't care, I just don't want to die. He doesn't mean anything to me. He was just a big black dick, like you said, it doesn't matter to me, please!”
She couldn't tell if he was buying any of what she was saying, but she wasn't dead yet, so that was something. As long as she could keep him talking.
He leaned back, smiling broadly enough to show off every one of his teeth. “Well... I wanna believe you, babe. But what you gonna do to prove it to me, yeah?” He reached down and gripped his cock by the base, and he arched one eyebrow. “You gonna be good and show ol' Tyson who's really in charge?”
She felt her throat go dry. She looked at the basement exit, the stairs leading up. Empty. No one standing there, no one about to come rushing down and rescue her. She was alone here. Jordan didn't even know where she was. For all she knew he was already gone, or even dead. She sniffled, and nodded. “Alright,” she said.
“A'ight?” Tyson grinned.
She lifted her chin, trying to blink the tears from her eyes. “Come here, and I'll suck your cock.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Oh Goddamn. Girl, you know what you doin'. Shit... Oh yeah, that's it, girl, that's it right there.”
She leaned back, fighting the urge to vomit. “You like that?”
“Yeah, oh yeah, I sure fuckin' do, baby. You got the touch, shit. God, talent like that getting wasted. Breaks my heart, girl. Tell you what, I know a few pimps who'd know just what the fuck to do with a bitch like you, know what I'm saying?”
She forced herself to smile, fighting the impulse to look towards the door again. She was still alive, that was the important thing. She was still alive, and that meant she could still come up with something, could still plan, could still get out of here and back to Jordan. She'd get back to him, and she would get Tasha out of jail, she was more determined than ever.
Knowing just how completely the girl had been set up had only hardened Natalie's resolve. She was going to get out of here, she was going to get back to Jordan, and she was going to take down every single one of these motherfuckers if it was the last thing she did.
“You know,” she said, jerking back a little as he moved in again, “you got such a good cock, baby. I want to touch it. I want to hold it, baby. I wanna make you come.”
“Ya mouth's good enough for me, babe,” he said dismissively, pushing forward again.
“Wait,” she said, looking up at him with wide and innocent eyes, “please? I mean, it's not like I could do anything. I just want to touch it. I need it... I want to go all the way baby. I was thinking, maybe... maybe I would get on all fours for you...”
He studied her for a long moment, his strange eyes, almost yellow like a cat's and seeming to shine in the darkness. Then he grinned and shook his head. “Ah, shit. I knew you was nothing but a ho.” He pulled a wristband out from under the sleeve of his hoodie. There was a little key dangling there. He knelt down and slipped it into the lock on her handcuffs.
She shut her eyes and whispered a silent thanks as the metal cuffs tumbled to the cement floor.
He came back around, and then he made the mistake she'd been waiting for. He was stroking his cock with one hand and tucked his gun under his arm so that he could slip the key back into his sleeve. For that moment, just an instant, she was free and he didn't have the gun in his hand.
She smiled and reached for his cock, then sprang suddenly up out of the chair and rammed her knee between his legs as hard as she could.
He let out a strangled cry and doubled over. The gun clattered to the floor, and she ran.
She didn't hesitate for a moment, didn't try to fight, she just bolted for the stairway. Tyson cursed, scrambling for the gun as the bulb overhead flickered.
Her heart was in her throat as she raced across the bare floor, knowing all too well that if she slipped or stumbled it would mean her life.
“Bitch!” Tyson yelled, and he pulled the trigger.
Natalie darted up the stairs just as the gun went off. She felt chips of concrete spray as the bullet slammed into the wall not two inches from her head, but then she was in the stairwell and running.
“Bitch, I'm fucking coming for you!” Tyson howled again, staggering after.
She had no doubt he was, but she wasn't going to give him that chance if she could help it. She gasped and panted as she ran up the stairs, as fast as her legs could take her. It was pitch black, and the steps were crumbling, but she never once slowed, trusting to fate that she wouldn't find a broken step or lose her footing.
She burst out of the stairway and collapsed on all fours in the filthy hallway where Tyson had first found her, though far deeper in the building. She wasn't sure which way to go, and looked desperately back and forth.
Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and she leaped back with a cry.
“Natalie!”
She stared, her whole body trembling and her heart pounding. The familiar face come out of the darkness, a face she knew and loved. “Jordan?” Immediately there were tears in her eyes, pouring down her cheeks. “Jordan!”
He wrapped his arms around her. “God, I thought-”
“He's coming!” she cried, clutching to him, “he's coming!”
“Who? Who is?” Jordan asked.
“Me, you fuck.”
Jordan and Natalie whirled around. Tyson crouched at the top of the stairs, the pistol in his hand and a cruel smile twisting his lips. He snarled, and he pulled the trigger.
Jordan threw Natalie to the floor, shielding her with his body. She felt the impact and heard him gasp, but he didn't wait for Tyson to get off a second shot. He leaped up and barreled at the stairs, flinging himself like a linebacker at the gang leader.
The two black men's b
odies slammed together. They grappled there, locked together, muscles straining. “You should never 'a come back, Bishop,” Tyson sneered.
“Fuck you,” Jordan growled, “you shouldn't have gone after my sister. And you definitely shouldn't have touched Natalie, you fuck.” He drew back his fist and delivered a punch that would have stopped a charging rhinoceros.
Tyson slammed back against the wall, but the pistol was still in his hands. Jordan rushing in again and Tyson took a step back, lifting the gun for a shot.
Crack! Before he could pull the trigger the crumbling concrete step under his foot broke, giving way and collapsing. He tumbled backwards, snatching Jordan's shirt as he fell, pulling him down along with him. The two men fell into the darkness, crashing down the steep concrete steps.
“Jordan!” Natalie screamed, and she ran down after them. “Oh God, oh God, oh God...”
She couldn't hear anything from down below.
She saw two crumpled forms at the bottoms of the steps and her heart leapt in her chest. “Jordan! Oh Jesus, Jordan are you alright?”
She heard a groan, and the man on top of the pile rolled over, getting awkwardly to his feet. “Goddamn. That was a near thing.” He looked up, and his dark brown eyes met hers, and she felt relief sweep over her.
“Thank God...”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm... I'm alright. Are you okay?”
Jordan rose with a groan. “Better than this bastard, anyway.” He nudged Tyson's prone form with his foot and it flopped limply.
“Is he...”
“Looks like he broke his neck on the way down. Good fucking riddance. Let's go.”
“Right, uh, did we...?”
“Melvin's waiting in the car. Ran into some trouble upstairs. I knew something was wrong when I came out and you weren't there, so I stuffed him in the backseat and came in for you. I heard the gunshot and came running. Just in time, too. Oh, hey, I found this.” He handed her the cell phone she'd lost in the hall, though the screen had been badly cracked.
