"Alright. Alright." He hated conceding to him, but the sight of the gun to Phyllis' head was something he hated far more. "You don't need to do that. I'm good." He took a step back and raised his hands in a show of submission. "Just don't hurt her. Come on, J.T. Don't hurt her."

He wanted to feel more confident in the man in front of him, in his true nature, but it was that true nature that terrified him. J.T. Hellstrom was someone he knew far too well. He'd seen the dark side of him. He knew what he was capable of. He'd known and experienced it long before Victoria or anyone else ever had. If it had been up to him, he wouldn't be standing here right now. J.T. had left him for dead years ago after a drunken party. This behavior, the disregard for other people's safety and well being wasn't new.

"What?" J.T. glared at him. "You want me to take it easy on her? Like she took it easy on me? How much of this sordid little story do you know?" He turned to Phyllis, the fear in her eyes making him smile. "Have you told your white knight here about your little plot to snuff me out?"

"I know they did what they had to do protect each other … from you."

"For all intents and purposes, they killed me, so really – this would be justice, wouldn't it? Isn't that what it says in the good book? An eye for an eye?" He jerked her towards him again, pressing the gun hard against her side. "What do you think? You're being pretty quiet. That's not your style."

Phyllis gasped, the sudden movement frightening her. His moods were so volatile that she had no idea how to respond, no clue what might set him off further. "I …."

"J.T. … Come on … Come on … Just talk to me, okay?" Billy's words were frantic now, the need to command his attention at the forefront of his mind. Phyllis was tough as nails in most situations, but he could clearly see she was near breaking. The pain and fear were all right there, reflected as plainly as he'd ever seen them in her eyes.

"I don't want to talk." His words were suddenly calmer. His hand moved quickly to the dark duffel bag that sat on the floor. "Here," he growled as he tossed it over to Billy. "Get the rope and tie her up."

Billy hesitated. "You don't need to do that. She'll …"

"I can keep her still another way if you'd prefer." He held the gun up, making his point without needing to use any further words.

Billy nodded, quickly reaching into the bag and grabbing the rope. His hands touched her gently, the close contact finally allowing him to see the marks on her, the extent of what she'd been going through. "It's okay," he whispered, the irony of his words making him sick inside.

"And make it tight." The words echoed through the R.V. "If it's not done right, I'll do it myself and it'll be a hell of a lot worse for her."

"It's good." He couldn't hide the venom in his voice. He hated him for what he'd done, for what he was doing, but mainly because he was in charge and nothing could be done to stop him. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered to her again, his eyes meeting hers before he stood up straight. "I promise. It's gonna be okay."

Her eyes screamed at him, but her lips said nothing. "Alright," he said as he turned back towards him, the gun still firmly pointed at them both. "It's done. Now what?" He watched and held his breath as J.T. jerked the knotted rope.

"Good. Now we find somewhere a little more private."

"I don't think I can go any further. This thing isn't meant for off road."

"You'll go as far as I tell you to go."

He could see the gun clearly pointed at her as he looked in the rearview mirror. "Just … I'm telling you, J.T., it's not gonna make it."

"Fine." His hand slammed down on the dashboard as he leaned closer to look out of the windshield. "This is probably good enough. Just stop here." He waited the sound of the motor to die, listening intently for the sound of silence. "Yeah," he agreed, "this is good … this is good enough. Now get up. Move."

Billy didn't argue, much as he would have liked to. Each time he'd watched the gun being shoved and pointed at her, his ego had taken a hit. He'd wanted more than anything in the world to protect her and now, it was becoming abundantly clear that he couldn't.

"Sit behind her," J.T. commanded as he reached for another rope. "I know how much you two want to be together. Never let it be said that I'm not a romantic at heart." He leaned down and wrapped his wrists, binding them together and stepping back finally to check his work.

"So what's the plan here? You gonna leave us here to die? Take another shot at it? Didn't exactly work out for you the first time did it?"

J.T. huffed. "Life would have been a lot different for me if I'd been able to get rid of you back then. Damn Raul and his moral standards. But actually no – that's not what I'm planning. That wouldn't be nearly vindicating enough. I've got a lot more planned for the two of you, but you've got to be alive for me to do that. Right now, I've got to go take care of something."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out." J.T. smiled as he took in the sight of them sitting there, completely at his mercy. "Just make yourself comfortable. Mi casa es su casa."

"J.T.! J.T.! Wait! Don't!" The door slammed. The shaking of the vehicle was followed almost immediately by the feeling of her trembling body behind him.

"Hey," he whispered. He couldn't hold her, their backs pressed tight together. Billy pulled at the constraints finally able to wrap his hand around hers. "It's okay. Take a deep breath." He could feel her shaky breathing, the shallow, uneven gasps a clear indication of an oncoming onslaught of panic. "Try to calm down."

"What if he doesn't come back," she sobbed. "What if he just leaves us here and he never comes back. No one knows we're here. No one is coming. We'll die here, Billy."

"No. No one is dying here. We're gonna get out of this. I promise you."

"How?" She sounded so defeated, so unlike the powerful, stubborn, fiery woman he'd known.

"The knot," he said firmly, still holding her hands in his and squeezing them as tightly as he could. "The knot I tied. I can tell you how to get out of it."

"What?" For the first time, she felt a flicker of hope, the feeling was so foreign that she pushed it away. "It's too tight," she argued. "There's no way."

"Yes there is," he continued. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing. J.T. spent his formative years in prep school. I grew up in boarding schools with tons of boys with lots of time on their hands. I learned all about stuff like this. We had to keep ourselves entertained. It was like our own little private magic show. Just trust me, okay?" He paused, remembering everything he'd done to her and recognizing the fact that she had no reason to trust him at all. "I know that's probably easier said than done, but right now, I need you to trust me, okay? I'll get us out of this. I promise. Just do what I say and I'll get us both back home."