"You slut," growled Dustin as Olivia walked in the door. "I told you to be home an hour and a half ago. Were you screwing your partner or something?"

Olivia swallowed and looked at the ground. "The case ran late."

"I totally believe that. You're just a lying whore who's screwing Elliot on the side. I'm gonna teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"

He reached out and smacked her across the face so hard that she stepped back, clutching her cheek. She wasn't going to cry out this time; she would be strong and not show how he was getting to her.

But as the unrelenting blows rained down on Olivia, she couldn't help but cry out. She curled up into a ball, sobbing, covering her head with her hands. "Please," she whispered.

"Please what?"

"Please stop. Sir. Please." begged Olivia, her dignity completely gone. All she cared about was surviving the night.

"Well . . ." He gave her a malevolent grin. "Since you asked so nicely . . . maybe you can show me how much you love me instead. Would that be better?"

"Please, not tonight," pleaded Olivia, but he aimed another kick in her direction to silence her.

"Move, bitch."

He dragged her to their room and started tearing off her clothes, hungrily caressing her bare skin.

She cringed as he ran his hand all over her exposed skin. She tried to get up, but he pushed her roughly back down. Olivia began to struggle as Dustin started to unbuckle his own pants. She was trying as hard as she could to get away from him, but she wasn't strong enough. He lifted her up as if she was nothing but a rag droll and threw her on the bed. Holding her down with one hand, he cuffed her to the bedposts.

Olivia began to cry silently. She couldn't be strong anymore. Five months of this had weakened Olivia, physically and emotionally.

In the beginning, it had been good. Better than good, in fact. Dustin had been the perfect man for three months, intelligent, handsome, funny, kind. He made her feel so good about herself. It wasn't about sex; it was about true love. Sex was just an added bonus.

But after they moved in together, things got bad. The first time he hit her, Olivia had come home an hour late. She'd been interrogating a suspect and it took an extra hour to get a confession. Even though Dustin had told her to be home by eight, she didn't get there until nine. She had walked in and apologized for being late, but Dustin had slapped her across the face. "Whore!" he screamed. "Where have you been? Screwing Elliot?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing? What's wrong?"

"You bitch!" And then he'd hit her again.

She'd tried to reason with him, but to no avail. He just kept hitting her.

He'd apologized the next day and even though Olivia should have known better, she'd stayed.

And now it was too late.

Dustin raped her. She went somewhere else in her mind, somewhere where there was no pain, where Dustin couldn't hurt her. She couldn't escape physically, but mentally, she could. She was chained to the bed, helpless and humiliated. She was one of the victims she spent every day helping.

He left her chained to the bed in pain and agony. He slept beside her, his soft snoring making Olivia cringe each time. All night, she lay awake and conscious, her broken body throbbing. She wished she would just lose consciousness, to end the pain, but Dustin was too smart for that. He wanted her to suffer.

* * *

The next morning, Dustin awoke at eight and left for work. He left Olivia still chained to the bed.

She knew she had to escape. She couldn't stay chained to this bed all day. She tried to break free of the chains, but they only bit further into her wrists and ankles. She pulled every which way, but it didn't help. Now her wrists and arms were killing her, too.

Then something occurred to her. The key. It had to be here somewhere. Maybe in the pocket of the jeans he'd been wearing yesterday. She reached out her hand, the cuffs tearing into her wrists. She rummaged through the pockets and located the key. She breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the cuffs.

There were bloody red marks all over her wrists and ankles, but she felt so free that she began to sob in relief. She put her head in her hands. What was she going to do now?

Captain Cragen didn't want her back at the station. She couldn't call Elliot – it would be too embarrassing to admit what she had let happen. She couldn't call Alex – Alex would be duty-bound to prosecute Dustin. And if Dustin found out she'd told anyone, he would kill her! He always said that he would, and then he'd kill Elliot and Alex too, and she believed him. She knew he'd do it. She'd seen it so many times before – an abusive man who kills his girlfriend and whoever she told. She couldn't let that happen to Alex and Elliot, her two best friends – her two only friends – in the world.

So Olivia ran herself a shower, trying to wash away the evidence of her weakness.