I have a lot of "unfinished" work on this site, so I probably shouldn't be starting another one. Alas, I don't have much control on where my Muse takes me. I may continue this one some more, or go continue work on a few of the others. I do hope to be writing more in 2018 than I did in 2017.
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Chapter 1: The Debt Collector Calls
Natalie did not recognize the black car parked in front of her apartment. Long and sleek, tinted black windows, chrome glistening in the morning sun. Nor did she recognize the tall, bull-like black man who stood curbside, leaning against the rear passenger door. His clothing matched the coloring of the car: a sharp, well-tailored black suit with a with a contrasting white-collared shirt.
He pretended to be reading a newspaper. Even though he wore dark sunglasses, Natalie could tell his eyes watched her every move.
Natalie smiled. It was something she was accustomed to, for she was something to look at. Even today, when she was dressed casual - skinny jeans and her New England Patriots t-shirt - she was a head-turner. Mostly because her large, voluptuous breasts (thank you, Dr. Rothstein) were pushing against the fabric of her top, and her jeans hugged every delicious curve of her hips, ass, and legs perfectly.
Her long, brunette hair tumbled in loose waves around her shoulders as she grabbed two grocery bags from the backseat. As she kicked the passenger door shut with her sandaled feet, she gave the limo driver one last glance. She sensed he was still looking at her, so she flashed him a pearly white smile. No reaction.
'Maybe he's actually reading that newspaper afterall', Natalie thought. 'Or, maybe he's gay.'
She laughed to herself, then lithely danced up the front steps.
'What's a limo doing on this side of the city?' she pondered. 'This is the West side. Drug buy maybe?'
Natalie and her husband Joe didn't live in the wealthiest part of the city. In fact, it was rather run down. Natalie was a teacher, Joe was an EMT. This was the best they could afford on their meager salaries. Still, Natalie didn't think the neighborhood was so bad that her neighbors might be sellers...
Natalie unlocked the front door, then sprinted up three flights of stairs to her apartment. Natalie worked out daily, and was hardly winded at the top, yet her heart stopped for a few beats. A short distance down the hall, the front door to her apartment was open slightly. Natalie was certain she had closed and locked it when she left this morning. In this neighborhood, you really had to.
Natalie crept slowly down the hallway. There was yelling - or at least someone talking in a very loud voice - beyond her open doorway. And then she heard her husband's voice, but couldn't quite make out the words. At least not all of them. She did hear one part, spoken in a pleading voice, "I'll get you the money."
What was this all about? Natalie decided to charge in, fumbling noisily with her keys, slamming the door behind her, and crinkling the paper grocery bags loudly.
"Honey, I'm back," she called from the hallway. "Are you awake yet?"
In the kitchen, Natalie found her husband Joe and two other men. She put the grocery bags on the counter as both men seemed to size her up. One was short, curly-haired, and burly. He looked like a bouncer for a nightclub. He had eyed Natalie only briefly, then returned his attention to Joe.
The other man gazed upon Natalie quite a bit longer, taking her in slowly from head to toe. Not unaccustomed to being gawked in public, Natalie just stood there, turning slightly to give him a better view, hardly conscious of this familiar, but brazen act. His eyebrows rose slightly at this gesture.
He was tall, brown haired, green eyed, and rather good looking. As his eyes traveled back up her body, Natalie could see his eyes turn from passive interest to something a bit more. Of course his eyes lingered lengthily on her chest. Natalie suspected, without looking down, that her nipples were bulging visibly against the fabric of her shirt. She hadn't bothered to throw on a bra this morning.
When his gaze had finally wandered back to her face, Natalie smiled brilliantly. Without even thinking, she bit her lip and twisted her body back and forth flirtatiously.
"Natalie," her husband said, coming to put his arm around her. "These are some friends from college, Eric and ahhh, um, Burt."
"Bruno," the short, thicker one said in an unfriendly gruff. He didn't budge, and barely gave her a nod of acknowledgement. His eyes never left Joseph.
Eric stepped forward and took Natalie's left hand in his.
"Natalia," he whispered, calling her by her birth name. "Joe has told me so much about you. If I had known you were this attractive, however, I would have come to visit long before today. Charmed to finally make your acquaintance."
She watched as he slowly lifted her hand, his eyes never leaving hers, and kissed the back of her fingers. Natalie blushed slightly.
"This is an exquisite wedding ring, Joseph," Eric said, his attention now on the large diamond ring that adorned her finger. "And your wife is an exquisite woman. You've done quite well."
"Oh, thank you. You're too kind," Natalie asked, taking her hand back, as well as her senses. "Will you be staying long? Would you like me to put on some coffee?"
"No, no," Eric said, stepping back and clapping Bruno on the shoulder. "Burt and I were just leaving."
The short, stocky man bristled slightly, then headed for the hallway. Eric followed him.
"Two weeks, Joseph," Eric said, turning in the hallway and holding up two fingers. He didn't hold his raised fingers apart, like a peace sign. The fingers were closed. He pointed them both to his forehead and tapped it twice, repeating, "Two weeks."
When both men left, and the apartment door closed with an audible clunk, Joe sank back against the counter. He brought both hands to his face, and sobbed weakly.
"Joe?" Natalie turned to her husband, putting her arm around his shoulder. She felt his body trembling. "Joseph, honey ... what's wrong?"
"Oh, Nats ... I messed up big."
"What is it, honey? Tell me."
Joe still had both hands covering his face. He shook his head no.
"I can't."
"Joseph Michael Durant," Natalie took both of her husband's wrists and pulled them down from his face. "I am your wife. Every problem you have, I have. Now you tell me what problem WE have."
Joe hadn't been making eye contact with her, even after she pulled his hands down. His gaze was cast downward. When she said the word "WE", she spoke it loudly for emphasis and lifted his chin so that he was now looking into her eyes.
"Tell me, Joe," she whispered.
Joe sighed heavily.
"I owe that guy money."
"Who?" Natalie asked.
"Eric. The tall one. I owe him a lot of money."
"How much?"
"Three thousand dollars."
*What? How? I mean ... what did you borrow the money for?" Natalie hoped the question did not sound judgemental, but the truth was, she was suddenly pissed.
"You," Joe shuddered.
"Me?" Natalie asked, trying to think what Joe would spend on her that cost that amount of money.
"Your wedding ring, our honeymoon, your car ..."
Natalie started to understand. She knew Joe wasn't a rich man when she met him, but he had a heart of gold, was boyishly handsome, and he loved her so deeply. She hadn't asked how he afforded her engagement ring, but was amazed when it appraised at $6,300. She vaguely remembered him saying something about an inheritance when she asked where he got the money for their honeymoon. It seemed believable at the time, as his parents had recently passed in a car accident one year before they met.
"Honey, we got married almost four years ago. How long have you owed -"
"Exactly four years now. That's how long the loan was for. I owed more, I've been paying it down. But I've run out of time."
Natalie felt like the wind had been let out of her sails. She sank into the counter next to her husband.
"Honey, it'll be okay," she said, trying to not sound despondent. "We'll figure out something."
Chapter 2: Natalie's Proposition
Joe's mood deteriorated more and more as the week went on. He retreated from her emotionally and physically. Natalie hardly recognized him, and couldn't find a way to reach him. Each night, after dinner, Eric's cell phone would ring. He would look at the screen, his face would go pale, and he'd leave the apartment to take the call.
Natalie knew it was Eric; she checked the call logs on Joe's phone the second night of this pattern. She hated to snoop behind Joe's back, but he hadn't been entirely truthful with her the past four years, either.
Natalie tried to come up with options, but even she admitted that it wasn't going well. Neither of them had family to ask money from, and neither had many friends who weren't similarly strapped for cash.
Late Friday morning, five days after Eric had come to their house, Natalie decided to take matters into her own hands. While Joe was napping from his late night shift with the ambulance service, she took his phone and flipped through the recent calls. She punched redial on the most recent listing. It was Eric's name.
"Joseph, I'm very glad you are calling me. Do you have my money?" Eric's voice sounded snake-like through the earpiece.
"It's not Joe. This is Natalie."
There was a short pause, and Eric's voice changed from a hiss to a purr.