The Family Business 3(47)

“That’s it, baby. Give Momma that dick! Give Momma that big dick!”

I was bent over the desk in the office where Larry and I had ended up after our “convenient” trip to the bathroom at the same time. Larry was pounding me like it was the last * he’d ever have, when suddenly the building started rumbling. That shit was shaking so bad it damn near knocked me over. At first I was impressed. I’d done my share of f*cking, but Larry was definitely the first man who had made the world shake like that. Then that fantasy died about a second later when I heard gunshots and knew that there was more to my earth-shaking experience than the skills of my well-hung lover.

“Did you hear that?”

Larry pulled his dick out and reached for his assault rifle, pulling up his pants. He was about to run out the door when I grabbed his arm.

“Hold up. Let’s evaluate this first. I don’t know if you want to go out there.”

My training told me that, according to the variety of sounds I was hearing, there were at least thirty guns being fired out there, and most of them sounded like Uzis. That was bad news for us, because our men were strapped with Tech-9s and assault rifles, not Uzis, which meant that someone was firing on them pretty hard.

“Evaluate my ass. Our people are in a firefight. I’m going to help my men.” I had to give it to Larry. He was about his business.

He pulled his arm out of my grip, but by the time he reached the door, the shooting had suddenly stopped. Whatever had happened, it had gone down that quick. I was just praying they hadn’t killed everyone. And by everyone I meant Paris.

“That’s not a good sign,” I whispered to him.

I heard someone yell, “This way!” and then the sound of doors slamming as they checked every room in the hallway. Larry and I shared a worried glance. It was only a matter of time before they reached us.

“Hide,” he said as he locked the door.

I squatted underneath a desk, while Larry stood by a filing cabinet, ready to blast the minute X’s men burst through that door. The doorknob jiggled, and he gave me a nod to assure me that he was ready to handle it. I wasn’t the least bit worried. Hell, so what if it was only two of us against twenty or thirty of them?

The knob jiggled again, and this time a man’s voice said, “There’s someone in there.”

Automatic gunfire left a trail of holes in the door, but it remained closed.

Larry let loose a spurt of gunfire, and we heard someone drop outside the door. He’d hit at least one of them, but it was clear that there were more right behind him to pick up the fight.

I watched as another volley of bullets tore through the door. When there was a brief pause, I let off some rounds myself. Another thud and a loud “Fuck!” and I knew someone else was down.

Their return fire gained in intensity, and the windows in the room were blown out. The sound of shattering glass was accompanied by a large Crack! as the door splintered and one of X’s men tried to Rambo his way into the office. Knowing it would only be a matter of seconds before the others came charging in, I raised my gun and pulled the trigger, expecting to see a hail of bullets coming out of the muzzle. My heart dropped when all I heard was a clicking sound.

I heard Larry cry out in agony.

I looked over to see him lying on the ground. The Rambo dude was lying dead next to him, but Larry had obviously been shot in the process of taking him out.

Acting purely on instinct, I threw my useless gun in Larry’s direction and dove back under the desk just before two more soldiers burst into the room, weapons drawn.

I placed my hands over my ears and began crying. “Please, don’t shoot me! Oh, God! Please!” I forced tears out of my eyes.

One of the men turned sharply in my direction, his finger on the trigger of his weapon.

“Wait! Hold up.” Had his partner spoken up one second later, I would have had a bullet through my head. Even as the shooter lowered his weapon, he looked disappointed, like a shark who’d just missed a bloody feeding frenzy.

“Who are you?” the man who’d saved my life asked.

“I’m Sasha,” I answered quietly. The fear in my voice was only partially an act at this point.

“Sasha who?” he asked.

“Duncan. Please, what’s going on? Don’t hurt me.”

The men eyed each other, and the one with his gun on me smiled like he’d caught the big fish of the day.

That’s when a man in fatigues wearing schoolboy glasses appeared. “What’s going on?”

“She’s a Duncan,” the shooter said with a sinister grin, raising his weapon and aiming it at me. “Elijah, man, you gotta let me do her.”

“A Duncan, huh?” Elijah said. “Go check her out.”

The shooter walked over and snatched me up off the ground. “You got anything on you?”

I sniffed and choked back my tears, willing myself to keep up with the damsel in distress act. My life depended on it.

“Woman, I said do you have anything on you?” He flung me around like a rag doll as he started patting me down to look for weapons. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my gun lying next to Larry, and I thanked God I’d had the impulse to throw it away before I hid.

“Yo, careful, man,” Elijah said to him. “She’s just a woman, not one of the Duncans’ thugs. No need to manhandle her like that.”