Chapter Six

Natasha closed the deadbolt on the basement door and slowly backed away, wondering if she should do anything. Her body sagged against the kitchen doorway as she listened for any unusual sounds. Natasha was sure she would soon hear the crash of the cyborg as he broke out of the holding cell and then the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

Soldiers had broken out of Cyborg Sector before, where everything was more secure and better maintained than a residence. Why had her father thought it would be safe to keep one in the basement?

She waited a long time, but the house remained silent. Natasha only heard the faint ticking of the mantel clock in the living room and the gentle hum of the air conditioner. She inhaled through her nose and breathed out through her mouth, doing the same exercises her father had performed countless times to stop the panic attacks. She had never experienced her father’s anxiety problem before, but she had seen Neil do it so many times that the steps were second nature.

Finally convinced that Fury wasn’t going to chase her up the stairs and through the house, Natasha lowered herself into a kitchen chair to think. She dealt with cyborgs on a daily basis. They came into her office, took off their shirts for exams, and sometimes even shook her hand on the way out. The creatures who had once been human were still capable of exhibiting human traits. But that was only due to the software upgrade that allowed them to bypass their implanted chip and access their previous memories. Fury had probably not had the software update, but there was only one way to be sure.

When Natasha rose from the table, her cell phone beeped in her pocket. She checked the screen and rolled her eyes when she saw that it was a message from Nick.

So you like playing hard to get? That’s all right. I still want you.

Natasha let out a frustrated sigh.

Not interested. Thought you would have figured that out when I threw you out of my house.

Her head pounded with rage and her hands shook. Natasha didn’t want to deal with that douchebag anymore. Her phone chimed again only a few seconds later.

We can start slow. I’ll send you a picture of my dick. You know you’ve missed it.

Natasha knew she should ignore the message or even block his number, but she couldn’t stop herself from replying.

Can your camera take pictures of something so small? Keep it to yourself for once.

She peeled off her high heels and padded down the hallway to her bedroom. She had things to do, but she needed to get comfortable first. Another beep.

You never minded it before. BTW you were very sexy in that little black dress.

Natasha was getting angry.

I was at my father’s funeral, you asshole!

Dropping the phone onto the dresser, she yanked her dress over her head and tossed it to the bottom of her closet. Once she had it dry cleaned, it was going straight to the consignment shop. No matter how good it looked on her, she had no plans to wear it ever again.

Natasha caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror as she reached for a t-shirt and jeans. Despite how disgusting Nick sounded when he talked about her body, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Her figure was a little plump, but it benefitted from the extra bits of exercise she slipped in whenever she could. Her breasts were full but still perky, big enough that she couldn’t go without a bra but she didn’t need a pushup. Her waist tucked in nicely around her stomach before rounding out for her hips. Her ass looked great in a swimsuit, if she did say so herself. Maybe it didn’t matter that Nick had slept with a skinny slut from the bar. There would be someone else to appreciate what she offered.

Her phone demanded her attention once again.

No problem. He never liked me. Keep the dress on and leave your panties off. I can be there in five minutes.

Feeling disgusted, Natasha quickly put some clothes on before she responded. Even though he had no way of knowing what she was wearing, she was not about to text him back while she was naked.

Do it and I’ll call the police. Stay away from me.

Natasha turned her phone off before he had a chance to respond again. She would probably have an inbox full of texts when she checked her phone, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

Tugging on a pair of Converse sneakers, Natasha took a deep breath and headed back through the house, moving toward the basement door. There had been no indication that the cyborg had escaped his cell. Even if he was awake, he couldn’t hurt her from his box. Still, her stomach trembled as she released the lock and opened the door once again.

In her hurry, Natasha had left the lights on in the basement. From the top of the stairs, everything looked in order. Leaving the door open behind her in case she needed to make a quick escape, Natasha quietly descended the stairs. She kept her eyes on the makeshift laboratory, ready to turn and run should anything go awry.

Fury was still in the box. His eyes were open, staring off into the distance. Though it unnerved her, Natasha preferred a vacant gaze if it meant the cyborg was not watching her. She would not have entered the room otherwise.

Natasha needed to move uncomfortably close to the cyborg in order to get what she wanted. The nurse sidled over, never turning her back on the cyborg. Keeping her eyes on the box, Natasha groped behind her on the workbench. Her fingers encountered a pile of tiny screws and a soldering iron that fortunately had been turned off. Finally, she felt the plastic casing of her father’s laptop. She snatched it and bolted back up the stairs.