A/N This story takes place during the summer between seasons 3 & 4. For the record, I do NOT in any way condone kidnapping, rape, murder, recreational drug use, or anything like that. If any of these subjects – or strong language - offends you, please DO NOT READ. This fic is NOT work safe, nor is it recommended for those with a weak stomach. Reader's discretion is advise!

This is my first attempt to write a fic like this. Please go easy on me, and leave reviews! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of these characters, and no affiliation whatsoever with Hart Hanson, "Bones", Fox, its affiliates, subsidiaries, etc. Please don't sue me!

PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE

"Please….please don't do this. Just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone." Her words were only a whisper now. They edged out around chapped lips, desperate and rough thanks to a throat sore with the effort of sobbing in silence.

He didn't even pay attention now, as he jerked up the zipper of his jeans. He was through with her. For now. As he got older, he couldn't quite get himself up as fast as he used to, unless it was for someone much younger than the beaten woman who lay naked on the ratty blanket behind him. Lighting up a cigarette, he turned and blew a cloud of acrid smoke into the brunette's face, then spoke.

"Keep begging for it, bitch, and you'll get what's coming to ya. You're not going anywhere until Skip gets back after calling that dumb agent buddy of yours. Now shaddup, I'mma take a leak. " He laughed, blowing more smoke in her face, then stood and walked to the other side of the room and into the bathroom.

Angela turned her face into the blanket and coughed weakly, her body shuddering. As she heard him walk away, she curled up as much as possible and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to pretend she was anywhere but here. "Booth…please hurry." She whispered against the rough fabric. She tried to roll over, but as usual, she couldn't. Having her hands bound tightly with twine behind her back was preventing her. She wasn't even sure if her hands were still there, to be honest. The twine had cut off her circulation, and her fingers had long since gone numb. If only the rest of her had lost feeling as well.

As she was allowed these few brief moments of peace, she tried to think back to when they'd grabbed her. From what they said, it sounded liked they'd been following her for days. "Easy pickings", they had called her. After all, the fiancé of the sole heir of the Cantilever group was a high priced item . . . and since she wasn't one of society's ladies, it was fairly easy for them to tail and grab her.

Her thoughts were jumbled, a fact she should probably be thankful for. But Booth would want her to be a good witness. It was hard, when they'd done drugs on the other side of the room, then shot her up with street mixes of coke and heroin. She had struggled and screamed until they beat her into submission. The part of her mind that still had some sanity left didn't even recognize herself. She felt like a shell.

Jack. The name drifted through her thoughts, and she squeezed her eyes harder, trying to bring his face to the forefront of her mind. Curly hair, bright blue eyes. Beard. There he was…tears slipped from behind her eyelids as she began to mutter his name over and over again. All she wanted was to be in his arms again. Feel him touch her. She jerked when she actually did feel a hand touch her bare thigh.

Mahogany eyes snapped open only to focus on "Skip", the man who seemed to be the more dominant of the two, who stood over her, leering. "There's no 'Jack' here for you, you stupid cunt. Even if there was, he wouldn't want a slut like you." As he spoke, his fingers fumbled at his leather belt, undoing it and jerking it out of his pants loops. Angela's eyes widened a little – she knew what was coming next. But the fight was gone from her. She couldn't even drum up the energy to protest as the man roughly turned her over to her opposite side, and began to beat her already welt-covered back with the belt.

A faint whimper escaped her as she began to shake, her eyes closing again. He was right. Jack could never want her after this.