The Love Of Money - Episode 172
30-07-25 (04:05)
Then Natashya's face appeared over his shoulder as her
arms wrapped around his neck, and she screamed. I
watched in horror as she brought her mouth to his
remaining ear and sunk her teeth into the tender pink
flesh and cartilage. The man began to scream, loosening
his grip on my throat as he started to stand, taking
Natashya with him, clinging to his back like a spider
monkey
Coughing and enjoying breathing again, I watched as
he spun around and thrashed at the dancer, but she
just wouldn't let go; she pulled her head back, and
blood began gushing down his neck as part of his ear
tore free from his skull. Then Chloe stepped in front of
him, grabbed him by the face, pulled it back, and buried
the entire blade of a large knife under his chin and up
into his head. The reaction was immediate; the
mercenary dropped to the ground, and Natashya fell
with him. She released her grip on his ear and let out a
scream, pounding on his back with her fists and cursing
in a language I didn't understand.
Jon stepped past the three of us, ignoring us soundly as
he made his way to the back of the large room where'
supposedly the other two were. Meanwhile, Shea had
walked into the room and put two bullets into Baldy,
ending his life. She quickly moved over the other
corpses but seerned satisfied that they were dead
enough until she came to Leader. Apparently, he wasn't
completely dead yet, so she put one in his head.
"All clear," she called out.
A moment later, Emily cautiously peered into the room,
looked around, and slipped in, followed by John. Emily
looked unscathed, but John had one arm in a sling. He
joined Chloe near Natashya, and the pair took some
time to calm the beaten dancer down while Emily
rushed over to kneel next to me.
"Marcus!" She looked me up and down and then
inspected the handcuffs. She looked over her shoulder
at the others, "Do any of you see keys? He has
handcuffs on!"
"Natashya," I wheezed, my throat still sore from nearly
having the life choked out of me, as well as all the
screaming I'd done.
"She's okay," Emily said, looking back down at me. She
gave me her sweet smile, her kind, red-rimmed eyes
brimming with unshed tears. An involuntary sob
escaped her, and she nodded. "You're
both gonna be okay."
"What did they do to her?" I asked. "She looked rough."
Emily chewed on her bottom lip and looked back at
Natashya. I could tell she was torn between taking care
of me and wanting to better understand how her new
friend was actually doing. She looked back down at me
and tried in vain to stifle another sob. "You both do,
Marcus."
I could feel tears stinging my own eyes and attempted
to blink them away. A few escaped, and I could feel
them sliding down my cheeks-a testament to the grief
over almost losing Natashya and the relief of seeing
that my sister hadn't suffered the same fate.
"Thank god she's not dead," I breathed and laid my
head back down on the concrete. "I thought they killed
her. They said they had you. Em... I was so scared they
had you." All that work Emily had done over the past
year hadn't been undone in a single night. She was
safe.
"Here," Shea called out. Emily looked at her just in time
to see the masseuse tossing a small set of silver keys.
My sister caught them in one hand and immediately set
to work, freeing me of my chains. Bless her... getting
those cuffs off my wrists felt better than sex. I held up
one hand and examined the oozing ring of raw, red
flesh. The lack of metal around my wrist didn't mean
the pain was immediately gone. Both of them felt like
they'd been held against a stove burner.
"We have to get moving," Chloe said and looked
toward the back of the warehouse. "Sound off!"
"Clear back here," Jon said from behind a small stack of
boxes. He appeared a moment later, gun still in hand.
"That other door's unblocked now. Looks like they took
advantage of it."
"Shit," Chloe said. "I was counting on questioning the
woman."
"Who was she?" I asked.
"Let's get you back to the plane," Chloe said without
answering my question. "We'll tell you what we know
as soon as we get back there."
"What's the hurry?" I asked as John approached me and
traded off with Emily, helping me to my feet while my
sister did the same for Natashya. I groaned as John slid
his shoulder under my arm and felt every single one of
my ribs. Something in my shoulder popped,
and any pressure I put on my right leg was met with
severe pain. I tried to put on a brave face, but any
significant pressure on the injured leg elicited an
involuntary hiss of pain. I really hoped it wasn't broken;
the last thing I needed was three months of walking
around on crutches... it wouldn't do much good for the
intimidating businessman image I wanted to cultivate.
I heard Emily muttering to Natashya as she helped her
upright. The dancer snaked an arm around my sister's
shoulders and buried her face in the crook of Emily's
neck, and I could hear quiet sobbing. My sister just held
her tight and took a few moments to console her
"You alright?" John asked, looking at me.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine. I just got several hours of the
GITMO treatment. That's all."
"You're lucky," John said as we walked toward the
door. Well, he walked. i hobbled. "You could have
ended up in much worse shape."
I guess," I said. "A couple of them really seemed to
have it in for me. Much more than a day, and I
would've been done for."
Chloe, Jon, and Shea had stepped into the hall and
made sure it was clear as we approached the door. My
bodyguard was barking orders like some black ops
commando in a movie, Shea seemed to be completely
ignoring the wound in her shoulder, and Jon had slung a
couple of the rifles over his shoulder and confiscated
Leader's gun before falling in line behind them.
"What do you mean?" John asked as we approached
the doorway. "You've been gone nearly three days?"
"Wait.. what?" I asked, my head snapping up.
Three days," John repeated as he peered through the
doorway. Our three armed companions were down the
hall, and Jon motioned behind us to give the 'all clear'
We followed them down the hall with Emily and
Natashya on our heels.
"Em," I said, "what day is it?" I don't know why I asked
her as if hadn't known..
"Monday morning. Why?" Emily said, only a little
breathless despite doing half of Natashya's walking.
She had several inches on Natashya, and even though
she wasn't quite as in shape as the dancer, it didn't
seem to be much of an issue.
"Jesus," I muttered. "Three days?"
It felt like I'd been down there less than a day. How
long had I been unconscious? What had they done to
me to make me so disoriented that three days felt
closer to one? It didn't make sense.
I can't remember much of it," I admitted, my head
sagging as I felt defeated. It was bad enough that I'd
been captured and beaten around like a pinata, but to
not be able to trust my own mind to keep up with the
time? This whole thing was a hell of a wake-up call.
Most guys think they have some kind of strategy in
case they get in a situation like this. I hadn't been
prepared for what happened to me, and here John was
telling me I had gotten off light. I felt like a weak,
naive fool.
Gunfire amplified by the smooth, concrete hallways
interrupted any other thoughts of self-pity, and Chloe
backed around one corner as we approached her. "Get
back!" she yelled at us, bringing John and me to an
abrupt halt. John leaned me against the wall and pulled
Leader's pistol from Jon's back pocket. He flipped off
the safety and checked behind us as the other three
fired down the hallway in some sort of well-practiced
pattern.
Emily brought Natashya next to me, and the three of us
flattened against the wall to keep out of the way of
the professionals. John walked past us, his sights
trained in the other direction for any hint of danger
while the other three dealt with the immediate threat. I
got a better look at Natashya; her mouth and chin were
coated in fresh blood as well as a healthy amount of
dried blood, but aside from a split lip and severe
bruising on the right side of her face, I didn't see
anything that would have caused that kind of bleeding.
"Is all that blood yours?" I asked.
Her shoulders were stooped, and her face appeared
grave. She met my gaze and shook her head. I
watched as a fresh tear slipped from her eyes. She
tried to blink it away, and she looked away from me.
God... what had this poor woman suffered just because
she'd been associated with me?
Despite the sadness and hurt in her eyes, a smoldering
fire behind that mask of pain reminded me of
Natashya's strength.
The dancer had been damaged in what was obviously
some horrific ways, but she was a fighter, and I
suspected she was far from broken.
I placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed
her, I felt her flinch ever so slightly under my touch and
immediately removed my hand. Right then, I made a
promise to myself that I would do whatever it took to
help Natashya recover from this. Don't forget to leave a Comment 
