Chapter Fourteen
When Natasha had downed more beers than she normally would on a work night and John had polished off only a couple, they decided to call it an evening, tossing their last bottles into the recycle bin and headed for the front door.
“If anyone at the Cyborg Rehabilitation Center was worried about the program I downloaded, they would have said something by now. They’re proactive about monitoring everything that goes through the computer. I was a little worried about losing my job, but now I think I’m in the clear.” John looked relieved.
Natasha sagged against the door and nodded sleepily. “Same here. I think I’ll finally be able to get some sleep tonight. The beer won’t hurt, either.”
“If anything unusual happens, let me know. The tranquilizer should keep Fury sedated for the night. You’ve got my cell number, right?”
“Yep. I programmed it into my phone.” As Natasha looked over John’s shoulder, she saw a car turning into the cul-de-sac. “Who is that?”
She recognized the car as it came closer to her. It was long and close to the ground. She could never forget that old 60’s Mustang. Nick had hired a friend who was an expert airbrush artist to cover the entirety of the black car in red flames in the shape of screaming demons and sexy women. It looked like a car straight out of hell. A younger woman might have considered it cool. Now she thought it was the symbol of a man who refused to grow up.
“Are you expecting someone?” The hellcar squealed to a stop at the curb.
“I wasn’t, but he doesn’t typically announce himself. That’s my husband.” A sense of terror slowly crept up the back of her neck. John could have run and saved himself, but held his position in the doorway as Nick hopped out of the car and advanced through the yard. Natasha had to admire him for a moment. John knew that she wasn’t interested but chose to stick around.
“Who the hell are you?” Nick yelled as he shoved his way through the front door, forcing John and Natasha to take a few steps back. He turned to Natasha. “What do you think you’re doing with a man over here, Tasha? Aren’t we still married?”
“Technically, yes, but only because you refuse to sign the divorce papers.” Natasha’s attorney had served the paperwork to Nick at the bar. She wasn’t interested in seeing him face-to-face again if it wasn’t necessary. “Besides, you don’t get to decide who I have over for company, regardless of what a piece of paper says.”
Nick’s face was growing red. “It doesn’t look right, and you know it. What are people going to say when they see my wife has some random guy with her?”
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” John said, gesturing to the open doorway. “It’s late, and everyone is ready for bed.”
Natasha’s guilt over her lack of interest in John grew tenfold. He could have given any number of explanations for why he was there, but he hadn’t bothered to correct Nick.
Her husband whirled around angrily. “Who put you in charge here, asshole? Do you think you can come over here and fuck my wife, then tell me where I can and can’t be?” His hands curled into fists. He had his weight on his front foot, ready to fly at the tech at any moment.
John didn’t budge or back down. He folded his arms in front of his chest casually and looked up into Nick’s face.
Natasha spoke up. “Who are you to say who’s fucking who? If my memory is correct, you’ve already been fucking around. Don’t you dare come over here and act all sweet and innocent when you’re the reason I’m here in the first place!” Her body shook with adrenaline. It was the kind of confrontation she had wanted to have with Nick but had been too scared to start. It made her feel more confident to have another person with her.
Nick opened his mouth to scream at her. He unexpectedly took a step back instead. “You’re right, Natasha. I just want you to come back to me. Everything is going to change, and it’s only going to get better. I’ll forgive you for the affair with this guy as long as you come home.” His eyebrows scrunched up into his hairline, and he suddenly looked less threatening than when he had arrived.
“I’m sorry, Nick. We’re finished. You need to go home by yourself.” She casually glanced at John, wondering what he was thinking. It was bad enough that he had gotten involved with Fury, but now all of her dirty laundry was airing out in front of him. He stood calmly in front of her, watching the exchange and giving no indication of leaving.
Her husband studied her then looked at John without saying anything. In an instant, he launched himself at the tech and slammed his fist into John’s nose.
Natasha screamed.
The blow came so suddenly that John had no chance to block it. He reeled backward, hands clutching his face. Blood gushed down over his lips and dripped off his chin as he staggered into the back of the couch. Nick lunged after him again, but Natasha jumped forward to grab his arm. As her husband tried to shake her off, John recovered enough to barrel forward. His fists flew wildly and didn’t stop, randomly connecting with Nick’s jaw and chest. Distracted by Natasha and surprised by John’s defense, Nick soon found himself out the door and on his ass.
Slamming and locking the door behind him, Natasha ran into the kitchen for a towel to press against John’s nose. “He’s a jerk.”
John let her tend to his wounds as he sat back, head spinning. “It’s okay. He seems to be a little unbalanced.” They heard the squeal of Nick’s tires fading off into the distance.
When John stopped bleeding and after he offered to stay if Natasha needed him, he reluctantly got into his car and headed home. Natasha was scheduled for time off the next day since she was going to have to work over the weekend. Sleep now would be impossible. She was too emotional and filled with adrenaline.
Instead, she made the trip to the basement once again. The cyborg appeared to be resting peacefully, so she pulled a chair up to the workbench and began adding to the logs her father had started.
As she worked, Natasha wondered what Fury would have done if he had been with her instead of John.