“I bet. You're one of the few who always shows up to the coffee shop with a computer. And you're by far the youngest.”
As I drove off, I still hadn't figured out where we were headed. But at the very least, Natalie was ready with a firing line of questions.
“I'm guessing you come from a wealthy family?” she asked.
“Actually no. I mean, I come from a modest family, it's not like I come from nothing. I'm a screenwriter, I write movies for Hollywood.”
“Wow, I knew that paid well. I didn't realize it paid quite as well as it seems.”
“I've also been racing cars for the past two years.”
Natalie's interest randomly piqued. That wasn't the type of thing she expected to hear from me, apparently. “Really? That's a new one.”
“It's a tad different, I know.”
The dream date went by much quicker than I would have liked. We got ice cream at the pier, stopped to watch a small Jamaican band on the beach, and enjoyed each other's company as the tide turned for the night. Little did I know our night was only beginning.
It was well past 11PM and both of us had to work in the morning. We didn't want to say goodbye. I spent copious amounts of time talking Natalie into letting me drive her home. She finally gave in just before it was time to depart.
“My place is pretty depressing. I live in Corona. I've got a little crappy studio in a run-down old building.”
“What's so bad about that?” I asked her.
“Well, your car might get destroyed by the jerk kids that live around me.”
“I can get it fixed. No worries.”
Natalie was very nervous as we drove to her place. As we entered Corona, I grew equally nervous. It was such a rough neighborhood for someone like her to be in. As we approached her apartment complex, I drove up behind an unmarked Crown Victoria with a young, heavy set white guy crouched over beside it. He was holding his arm. Something was very wrong.
“What the hell is going on here?” I said as Natalie and I both waited in the car. What had I just driven us into?
“I don't know,” she replied.
I exited the car and very soon heard gunshots from the apartment building.
“Get down!” the detective whispered to me with a wave of the hand.
“What's going on?” I asked him.
“Somebody's raiding the building. Get the hell out of here.”
“Are the cops on the way?”
“Seriously? In this area of town? They won't be here for an hour.”
I couldn't believe it. I helped Natalie out of the car and to cover. “You've got to stay here. Take my keys. If someone comes after you, get in my car and leave.”
“Ryan!”
“This is not a conversation. I'm not going to let anything happen to you,” I glanced at the building upon hearing the terrified screams of someone inside, followed by another gunshot. “I've got to end this if nobody else will.”
“Ryan, you can't go in there!” she exclaimed.
I turned to the detective. “You got an extra gun in there?”
“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, kid.”
“You got a better option? Just answer me. I'm doing what I've got to do.” I knew the detective didn't want me involved. I knew the legal implications if I was. He looked into my eyes and knew I was serious. I was his only chance to end this.
“I've got an assault rifle in the back, utility belt, vest,” he said. I cautiously opened the trunk and withdrew all the armor, ammo, and a close range assault rifle.
“You ever shot one before?” he asked me.
“Does it matter?” Admittedly, I’d only ever shot an airsoft gun with my Dad when I was a kid. I was going to learn on the fly with this one.
“Put the radio on, that way you can communicate with me. Take the spare handgun, just in case.”
“You got any protection?” I asked him.
“I got my Beretta. I'll watch after the girl,” he said. I stood up, but he quickly grabbed me. “Be careful,” he said succinctly.
With an MP5, a pistol, several extra mags and a few smoke grenades, I entered the building primed for someone to rush me. I started mapping out the building in my mind. It was three levels, staircases on either end. Each level had a straight hallway with apartment entrances on each side. I slowly found my way to the top floor figuring I would work my way down, clearing floor by floor.
I reached the top floor and it was obvious the rampage had already moved on. A young boy was standing in the middle of the hallway. He couldn't have been more than six years old. I was stunned by the sight of the kid. No blood on him. He wasn't even scared. It didn't look like he knew what to do.
I waived at him, trying to get him to come down the hallway. “Come on, come here.”
The young boy scooted toward me. Suddenly, one of the gunmen popped out of a room down the hallway and whipped a gun in my direction. I already had my gun primed to shoot. I put him on the ground, immediately taking his life. I couldn't let the exchange phase me. I had just taken the life of another man. I couldn't think about it. I had to get this kid out. I walked him to the exit, directed him to go to Natalie and the detective. I knew, though – I knew there was still more people in there, and I wasn't going to stand back as someone continued to kill and destroy. I couldn't let this happen, not with Natalie there, and not with knowing she lived in that building. Clearly the girl wasn't well off. Who knows how much of her property was in there. I didn't care, I felt the need to protect her. I wanted to protect her.
And so I re-entered. I heard screams and gunshots – Bottom floor. I waited for a response – Nothing. No footsteps upstairs. This must be the last one. I took some extra time getting through the hallway. More than anything, I was consciously making sure to catch my breath.
I checked each apartment, room by room. I heard a crash – Just one room away. This was it, do or die time. I had to get this over with now. I'd already passed by at least twenty-five dead bodies. This couldn't go on much longer. It was simply a massacre, and indeed it was about to end.
I glanced in the apartment – Nothing. I crept in, one foot in front of another. The thought of switching to my side arm crossed my mind – No chance to swap out now. I was stuck with the assault rifle. I rounded the corner into a small hallway. Blood, more than I'd noticed earlier. There must have been a struggle. I could only hope there wasn't another dead body in the room.
I heard wrestling on the bed – Only one bedroom. This simple detail gave me solace. One less thing to think about. More noises, it was tough to figure out what it was. It almost sounded like someone was rolling on bed sheets, the sounds of freshly starched sheets rubbing together. I entered –
It was a feeling unlike anything I'd ever felt outside of a race car. I once noticed when I was approaching a wreck on track, it was like everything slowed. Suddenly my mind gave me rest and a chance to catch my breath. Some would chalk it up to being “in the zone.” But my experience was different. Time moved so quickly, but it also stood so still. Tunnel vision wasn't part of it – My field of vision was a full spectrum of focus.
This was the first time I'd felt such intense focus outside of a race car. My mind wasn't going to fail me now. It couldn't, not with Natalie outside and, in my eyes, still in danger.
I spun around the corner, took a quick inventory of the room. Naked woman bleeding on the bed, legs spread wide apart. One large man with a handgun pointed at her head and his genitals forced in her mouth. Another man, just as big, about to forcibly rape her. It was the most disturbing scene I'd ever seen. I couldn't help but think how close this woman likely was to her death and these two barbarians were raping her at gun point.
Not a second thought, I opened fire on both of them. I made damn sure they weren't getting back up. I didn't know how many bullets I put in each, but the clip was empty. It didn't really matter to me how many I put in these two beasts, so long as they were dead.
I checked ou
t the woman – Alive. I sighed. Her heartbeat seemed strong, she wasn't bleeding as badly as I originally thought. She was out like a light though, completely out of commission. Maybe that's for the best. Hopefully she never had any idea what happened. Doubtful, but I hoped it was true.
I exited swiftly to get help. Finally, I heard sirens in the distance. I rushed to check on the detective and Natalie.
“Are you okay?” Natalie threw her arms around me. I knew this had to be the most frightening experience of her life.
“I'm good. Detective --” I was quickly interrupted.
“You need to get out of here, kid. You don't want to have to start answering questions about this,” he said as he put his arm around the kid I walked out earlier.
“But you...”
“Kid, go. Don't worry about me. I knew what I was getting myself into. You were the only option here. You did the right thing.”
I nodded, wrapped my arm around Natalie and led her to my NSX.
The detective stopped me. “Hey kid... You done good tonight. You should be proud of yourself. You're a hero. Nobody's going to know about it, but don't forget that. You are a hero.”
I drove aimlessly in silence. It struck me that the detective said I was a hero. I didn't do anything to be a hero. I just did what I thought was right. Natalie wanted to know what I saw, what I did. At the same time, she didn't want to know. I think she was just happy we were okay and that I was still there with her.
“You can stay with me if you want. I've got a spare room, you'll have your own bathroom and everything,” I told her.
“Thank you. I don't think I have any other option, I really appreciate it.”
“You can stay as long as you'd like.”
I led her into the Beach House. I turned on a light, Natalie gawked at the vaulted ceiling and chandelier hanging above us. “If you ask me, I think it's a bit much,” I said having noticed the look on Natalie's face.
“It's beautiful. I can't believe this is where you live.”
“It was my buddy Ayrton's idea. He came up with the concept. We designed it, built it, and here we are.”
“That's an interesting name,” she said.
“He is an interesting dude. I don't want to be up in your business too much. Go ahead on upstairs and pick a room. Ayrton stays in the basement, so any room up there is all yours. Make yourself at home, I need to decompress. Let me know if you need anything.” I wanted to play it cool. I was terrified of coming on too strong. There was no way I was going to let myself screw this up.
I headed for my room. Truth be told, I didn't need to decompress. I just didn't want to smother her. After retiring to my bedroom, I was soon laying on my bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling. But that quickly changed.
Natalie entered the room. I pulled myself up onto my elbows and looked at her curiously. Not a word was spoken. Natalie's hands nervously pressed against her dress, running from her stomach down to her thighs. She reached to her side, unzipped her dress and slid it off. I was quite confused as Natalie stood in front of me in nothing but a slip dress.
She approached the bed, laid beside me, and kissed me. A soft but affectionate kiss, with a hint of fear. Fear of what could be coming. I hadn't done anything like this before, wasn't something I'd ever known anyone well enough to consider. Thus was the frustration of the crazy life I had. But there we were, fully lip locked with hands exploring each other's body.
She stopped, looked into my eyes. Natalie took my hand, held it for a moment, and placed it on her breast.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked. I didn't want Natalie to do something she might regret, despite the fact that she had approached me.
“Yes.” A simple response, again we passionately embraced. I turned Natalie onto her back, kissed her neck and collar bone. I wasn't really sure what to do, but neither of us wanted to stop. I wanted her comfort as much as she wanted mine. Next thing I knew, there we were. It was hard to celebrate in my mind, as I always assumed men were supposed to do when they lose their virginity. I just wanted her to feel safe.
“Please, hold me closer,” she asked, and I did. Our breathing intensified. “Please don't leave me.” Natalie was terrified. I was the only comfort she had.
“I won't.”
“Please protect me.”
A week had passed since that night, it was just ten days until Christmas. Things had been rough, but Natalie and I were sticking together and working through it. Natalie got a call from her parents, apparently they wanted her to come home and have dinner with them. I joined her even though I wasn't hugely interested in being a part of that knowing what I did about her parents. It turned out Natalie was from an insanely wealthy family. She chose to cut herself off from her parents because, well, they were awful people. She grew tired of the weight that her family name carried, so she walked away from it.
It was an unusually dreary day for Southern California. We took my 300ZX down to her parents’ house. I saw what I thought was the clubhouse of a country club... It was her parents’ house. I only had two words. Holy. Shit. I suddenly felt very poor driving that car.
We went inside and Natalie directed me to the living room where her father and twin brothers were. They were watching football... Great, something to distract me from this tedious bull shit. I swear, I don't know who the hell would marry this guy. He wouldn't stop bitching. He bitched about the offense of both teams, the defense of both teams. He sat there stroking his own ego over and over about how he could throw the ball better than John Elway and run better than Terrell Davis and catch better than Shannon Sharpe. The damn twins didn't help. They agreed with everything their precious daddy said. It was disgusting, really.
Natalie's father was a sleazy stock trader who made his money on dirty oil and gambling. He never gets off his ass, would tell any poor person he meets that all he did to get rich was work hard, and expects others to pay taxes he doesn't have to. He’s what's known as new money. He acts like he owns the world because he hit a couple jackpots even though everyone knows dirty money made him who he is. And nobody liked this guy. Including me.
“So kid, I hear you race cars. That's good. You an NRA guy too?” Hank, Natalie's father, asked me.
“No sir, I'm not a member of the NRA,” I politely responded thinking very little of it.
“Oh. You're a stupid liberal, aren't you? I tell ya, that Bill Clinton is the worst Goddamn president this country has ever seen. Ronald Reagan, see he was a great president. Really took this country places.” Yeah, like into an economic tailspin in the early eighties and an era where the banks control every aspect of the country. Freaking fantastic concepts. “You're one of those liberal kiss asses, ain't ya?”
“I stay out of politics, sir.”
“Yeah that's the same bull shit excuse I hear from all you liberals. You have to participate in politics. Too stupid to know any better, I tell ya. That's probably why you drive a car. You can't make a living doing that. You seem like a real moron, ya know that? You gotta participate in politics, it's your duty.”
“With all due respect, sir – My duty is to defend this country if I am called upon to do so. Voting is a right, participating in politics is a right. Rights are not duties.” He didn't like that answer. He went on a roughly ten minute rant that ended with Natalie entering the room and him shooing me out with a newspaper as if I was a dog. Natalie was quickly yanked away by her mother. I headed for the bathroom to take a break from the madness.
When I emerged from the bathroom, I looked around for Natalie. I eventually heard her mother laying into her. I saw two huge hardwood doors that lead to an area I hadn't yet noticed. I opened one of the doors, and the most amazing scene was laid out in front of me. Natalie and her mother were in an obscenely long corridor, probably three football fields long. Each side was lined with glass start to finish. The architecture was ancient but amazing. I have no idea what was ever done in a room like this, but my God it was out of this world. The ceiling was abo
ut sixty feet up. Seriously, it was that big. You could fit the most of the Beach House in this one area.
I slowly approached Natalie and her mother, neither of which had realized I was there. “What kind of future do you think you could have with him? You've ruined your life enough, Natalie. You're coming home. I won't have you destroy everything you've worked for like this. It is embarrassing.” Her mother finally noticed me. “May I help you?”
I could tell Natalie was crying. Sobbing was more like it. She turned around and ran out of the room. I shook my head at her mother and started after her. “She's not leaving with you. You should just leave now before we have to make you leave,” her mother said as I exited the corridor.
Natalie ran up a winding staircase and slammed the door closed at the top. I knew where we were in the house. We were above that corridor. The staircase hadn't been used in quite a while. I opened the door, climbed the final few stairs and saw what amounted to a storage unit in the attic. There was covered furniture everywhere. I saw Natalie sitting next to a window a ways away. I approached her, pulled up a chair.
“How you doin', my lady?” I asked her.
“I'm sorry I brought you here,” she responded.
“We don't have to talk about that. What're you thinking about? Why'd you come here to this window? There's gotta be a story behind it.”
“Sure, but it's no Hollywood screenplay.”
“Doesn't have to be. It's your story and I would love to hear it.”
She took a moment, sighed. “When my parents would fight, I would sneak up here. I loved sitting in this window, looking down at the golf course, watching the people converse and hit their ball around. It was interesting to me, you know? How people will put on a good face, smile and laugh, but you can always tell when they're not sincere. I grew up with that. I don't think my dad has ever told me anything sincere in my life.”
Natalie went on for a while telling me about her times sitting in that window. That was her spot, her hiding place to remove herself from the world temporarily. Her parents had never found her there.
The Legend: The Love of Ryan Sumpter Page 2