WARNING- VERY M (MATURE) RATED AND NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED OR CHILDREN!
Do not read if you find M rated stories inappropriate or disturbing. Thank you to all you kind reviewers :) This chapter is very emotionally heavy, but don't lose hope because after hurt there is always love and consumation ;) (along with a good plot)! Please R&R
Stunned by the sudden movement, Ruth crashed painfully to the wooden floor beneath her. She felt her head crack against the leg of the oak table near the doorway, and it took her a few seconds to realise that her vision was slightly blurry as a result of it. Through the fog of it all, she saw the body of the hand that had grabbed her appear in its entirety, drawing closer and closer to her. Ruth automatically began to shuffle backwards away from its frightening blurred outline. Now trembling and panicky, Ruth attempted to leap up and dash towards the kitchen in search of a sharp object to protect herself with, but the body grabbed her, forcing her to the floor once again. Terrified, Ruth found herself staring into cruel dark black eyes. As her vision began to gradually return, she saw that it was a man, whose body was dangerously close to hers as she lay panting on the hallway floor. His head was covered with a standard black balaclava, jacket and trousers. Ruth was steeling herself to prepare to put up a fight, when she realised three more men had entered the house, all dressed in the same attire. One closed the door, and they all loomed perilously towards her. Petrified, Ruth tried to struggle off the floor, but the first, muscle-bound man had moved his large, strong hands to pin her wrists to the floor. He was almost on top of her, as his own legs pinned hers to the ground. Ruth screamed in desperation.
"Let me go! Please let me go!"
"Go search for it."
The man gripping her painfully to the ground moved his head to indicate to the other men to enter the other rooms of the house. They immediately split to carry out their search. As Ruth continued to struggle against the tight bonds of flesh on top of her, she heard crashing sounds, as the men turned her house upside down.
"Where is it?"
Despite her panic, Ruth realised the voice behind the balaclava was distinctly American. Too frightened, and in too much pain to reply, Ruth struggled to push against the heavy man. He gave an angry snort of impatience, and squeezed her wrists and pressed against her body so tightly Ruth cried out- he was pressing so hard against her chest and abdomen, she could not breathe.
"Impudent bitch- where is it?" he growled in her ear.
Ruth felt tears come streaming down her cheeks; terrified and still struggling to breathe, Ruth tried with all her might to push him off her. Still, he would not budge, but he squeezed her even tighter. Desperate, Ruth cried out:
"Please get off me!"
"No." She sensed a note of pleasure in her captor's voice, and she felt a wave of overwhelming nausea.
"Please…"Ruth tried to breathe. "You're…crushing my…"
The man gave another impatient grunt, quickly removed one hand from her wrist and balled it into a fist. He hit her repeatedly in the face, until she stopped pleading, her skin was black and blue, and her lip was bleeding profusely. At this point, though she told herself she needed to be brave, Ruth found her tears uncontrollable, and the fear was overwhelming.
"I'll ask you one more time," the man sneered dangerously quietly down her ear. "Where is it?"
"Please," Ruth cried. "Please I…I don't…know what you're-"
Suddenly one of the other men marched out of the living room clutching the files she had been working on in one gloved hand. He handed them to the other, whose eyes flicked over them. He began to turn his attention back to Ruth, but she took opportunity of his diverted attention and forced her leg up in one swift motion, so that it made contact with his groin. He gave a yelp of pain, and she scrambled away from him, and once again tried to make it to the kitchen. However, the other man caught up with her easily and dragged her to the floor again. Her previous captor, who was still clutching his groin, crawled on top of her, and growled at her:
"Give us the information chip you little bitch!"
It suddenly clicked with Ruth what it was they were after, and terror flooded through her as she realised the very thing they were looking for was where she had left it- inn her top drawer, at Thames House. As the muscled man above her continued to rub his groin, now in anticipation, Ruth realised just exactly what her fate was going to be, whether she gave the information or not. She tried to force herself to stop the tears which were flooding uncontrollably down her battered face, and closed her eyes tightly. She pictured Harry, pressing her against the wall on the grid, harsh, but so very gently and proudly telling her she was a 'born spook'.
"I don't know what you mean." Ruth lied quietly, tears still continuing to dribble down her cheeks. She prayed she as wrong about what he was about to do. She prayed it would not hurt. She tried to move her hands to protect her abdomen, which he was still pressed against, but with no prevail.
The other men were starting to crowd around now, and though she could not see the rest of his face, Ruth could see by the contort of the balaclava that her captor's face was stretching into a nasty smile.
"You know I was kinda hoping you wouldn't." he said massaging his groin, so that he was almost stroking it now. "Cos we've got a little message for you, and your precious Harry Pearce."
Fear rose up in Ruth as they all began to loom towards her. She realised he could not do it. Overwhelming fear flooded through her as she realised she could not lie there and take it bravely, like Harry would have told her to do. Harry was not there to help her anymore. No one even knew what was happening to her, and that frightened her so much. She was on her own.
"Please…"she began, tears flowing fast. "Please don't-"
But she was cut short by the man who straddled himself on top of her, so that she could feel his soaking clothes from the rain outside, and, aided by all three of the other men; they began to rip her clothes off. Ruth struggled against his bruising grip on her wrists, and this time, raised her head to bite his hand. This earned her extra punches to the face and breasts. Ruth cried out, as they all removed her bra and pants, revealing herself completely and humiliatingly to them all. In true fashion of a wolf pack and their pray, they all began to squabble over who would take her first. It was her main captor who came out on top, and they all agreed on a number for who could go next, as if it were a mere playground game. He also stripped off his belt and trousers, and pulled down his boxers.
"Please…" Ruth begged futilely, as he crawled up her.
No one heard her repeated screams of excruciating agony and extreme distress as he rammed himself brutally inside her, nor the ones that followed for hours on end, as the other three proceeded to follow suite. The neighbours were all at work, and passers by heard nothing but the spattering of the rain against the pavement. By the time the neighbours had returned home, all was deadly quiet inside the house. The men had gone; taken the files with them, and left their victim lying on the cold of the wooden floorboards.
Ruth laid quietly, tears still silently cascading down her cheeks and dripping one by one onto the wooden floor. As the men had left, telling her to pass onto Harry to leave things alone, they had in turn, finally left her alone. She could not bear to move, as each time she did, even if it was a mere twitch, it was excruciating agony. For a while after they had left her, she had laid there and sobbing and crying out in frustration at her helplessness in the situation, but now she felt there was no more crying to be done. She felt weaker than she had ever been before; she had not the energy to even rage against the memories that continuously replayed themselves around her head.
Since it hurt whenever she moved, and she was not expected at work until the following morning, Ruth closed her eyes and decided that passing out on the floor seemed like quite a good plan. But then the pain in the lower regions kept returning, even more painful than the minute before, and she knew she desperately needed help.
Gritting her teeth to stop herself from whimpering, she moved her hand up to her now stiff face, and wiped away the remaining tears. Ruth forced herself to stop crying, and tried to put her brain into some sort of order. For a minute the only thing she could think about was the image of all four of the men on top of her; the unbearable pain. Gradually, she forced herself to remember where she had left her mobile after arriving hours earlier. It may well have been years earlier.
Ruth remembered dropping her phone onto the kitchen table, and she gritted her teeth in preparation for the pain she was about to experience tying to reach the kitchen. This time she could not stop herself from whimpering as she levered herself up from the floor, but her legs were too fragile and wobbly to hold her weight and she fell in a heap of the floor. It was then Ruth noticed, rather than felt, the large patch of scarlet blood on the carpet. Everywhere hurt so much, she had not really noticed a particular part of her body bleeding considerably more than any other. Yet as she moved her hand downwards she felt warm blood come into contact with her fingers, and she felt tears come up once again.
Ruth forced them down once again, and managed to drag herself very slowly on her knees towards the kitchen. Each short distance was unbearable, but she kept going on her telling herself that it would be over soon. Ruth shivered as her bare, bruised skin came into contact with the cold stone tiles of the kitchen floor. As she reached the table, she gripped the edge and dragged herself up painfully, and found her phone. As her fingers lost contact with the edge of the table, she fell to the floor with a cry. Ruth lay there for a few seconds panting, before she raised the phone slowly, and began to press the digits of the first number that came to mind.
Harry finished drying the white porcelain tea mugs that had been used hours before, and placed them carefully back into the equally pristine white cupboard. Elena stood watching him from the doorway, that look of adoration in her eyes. Harry busied himself with the drying up for fear of falling into that trap once again. Yet as he had put the last mug away, he realised he did not have any more means for distraction, and so turned to smile at her. She smiled back and moved towards him, her heels clicking on the clean marble floor.
"Thank you Harry," she said softly. "But I did not ask you to act as a slave for me."
Harry shrugged, "I was glad to do it." He replied honestly.
He tried to not let his chest constrict as she placed her hands on his chest; one hand was directly over his heart. She stopped and felt it beat for a few seconds, before looking up at him.
"I know you tried everything to get me out of Russia, when you found out about Sasha. You tried everything to protect me, but your people wouldn't allow it."
Harry nodded silently, yet a small part of him could not help feeling regret at not doing more all those years ago. She had been carrying his child, and he had left her and Sasha to the Russians, and a husband who, had he found out about her 'liaisons' with him, would have killed her for sure. "I should have done more."
Elena looked surprised at this comment, but she smiled, "No, you did your best. It was a difficult time, and we all did what we had to do."
Harry nodded gratefully, and attempted to break away from her, but she was still holding onto him. He forced himself to look into those eyes and was discomforted to see desire there.
"Elena-" he began.
However, before he could finish his sentence, Harry heard the distinct beeping of his phone from the other room. He had left his jacket there, and, if he remembered rightly, left his phone on the coffee table. He looked down at Elena who moved away from him, almost as soon as he did, smiling in understanding. His phone was still ringing incessantly. Harry considered for a moment turning it off, yet after last night, he conceded it was better to answer it. There was no point in taking risks.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I'd better-"
Elena nodded slightly, and he slipped past her into the living room. He spotted his phone lying on the same spot where he had left it, strode over to it, and pressed the receive button.
"Yes?"
For a moment, he thought he heard silence, for there were certainly no words being said. He frowned, and checked the caller ID. It was Ruth.
"Ruth?"
He was about to ask snappishly if the call was absolutely necessary but Harry then noticed heavy breathing. Now that he listened, he heard her familiar breathing pattern down the phone, although something was not quite right. The breathing seemed to be very strained, as if she was struggling somehow, and every so often he made out several whimpering noises. Her breathing caught suddenly, and he heard a slight cry from her end of the phone. Harry's heart went cold and he went on alert immediately.
"Ruth, what is it?"
Still there came no reply, just the same laboured breathing, and Harry struggled not to panic.
"Ruth, is something wrong?"
He heard a gargling sound, as if she was trying or preparing to speak, but was struggling with the action. Harry then recognised the spasmodic hiccough that went through her and down the phone; a tell tale sign that she was crying silently. Harry struggled not to shout down the phone at her. With shaky breathing, he said as calmly as possible:
"Please talk to me Ruth. What's wrong?"
Almost as soon as he had finished speaking, he heard her say in such a heartbreakingly small, hoarse voice, "Harry." The roughness in the voice told him she had not spoken for hours, except for crying. He knew Ruth was terribly proud and would never call him in this state unless something was very wrong, and his instincts told him something was very wrong. Her worryingly small voice and the sounds of her distress every so often, frightened him.
"Ruth, are you hurt?"
Another spasm of a cry came from down the phone, and he thought his heart was going to beak.
"Are you in pain?" he asked desperately.
This time, he heard the gargling sound again, and this time she spoke so softly, as if in great pain, "Please…please…Harry."
Her pleading was enough to shake him out of his standing position; he grabbed his coat, and dashed towards the door.
"Harry," he registered Elena's voice from somewhere behind him. "Harry what is wrong? Where are you going?"
Harry did not even look at her; all his attention remained on Ruth's laboured breathing down the phone. It was growing heavier and heavier and he suspected she was almost ready to pass out.
"I've got to go." He directed at Elena, who looked shocked, but thankfully asked no more questions, and did not stop him as he all but ran from the room. He promptly hurried down the luxurious staircase, taking two steps at a time.
"No…please…d…don't…" Ruth struggled, apparently thinking he had been talking to her.
Harry could not fight his panic and fear at this point, and he said as calmly as he could, "I won't leave you, I promise you Ruth. Where are you? I'm on my way."
Ruth did not reply for a second, which set his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst. "Where are you?" he repeated. "Are you at home?"
"…Yes." She said after another lengthy pause. "Please…help-"
He heard a loud thud, and after several attempts to contact Ruth, his heart went colder still as he realised she must have dropped the phone on to the floor, before finally passing out. Harry swore loudly, ignoring the gaping mouths of the men at the reception as he made his way out of the hotel. He reluctantly disconnected the call to Ruth, and swiftly dialled another number. Thankfully Dimitri picked his phone up within seconds.
"Dimitri, call an ambulance and get to Ruth's house now."
Dimitri, who had not even uttered a word, seemed to get the message, "Harry is she in trouble?"
"I think she is. Do it now." Harry said shortly, and too disconnected the other call. He threw his mobile back into his pocket, as he stepped inside his car, and turned to ignition on.
Harry reached Ruth's house within minutes, and he stopped so quickly the tyres screeched painfully against the curb. As he threw himself out of the car, he saw Dimitri pull up behind him, and also get out quickly.
"I got here as fast as I could." He said. "I also called Erin, but she went home hours ago to Rosie. What's going on?"
"I don't know." Harry growled, not having time for anything except getting to Ruth inside the house. "Did you call an ambulance?"
"Yes why?" Dimitri added with a note of impatience, but Harry did not reply, and he hurried along the pathway to Ruth's front door. He noticed that lights were on at the front of the house in the hallway and the living room, and also apparently in the kitchen. Harry tested the door gingerly and felt his fear deepen as he found that it was unlocked and swung open as soon as he knocked against it. He looked sideways at Dimitri, who nodded and drew out his gun from the holster on his belt, and aimed it straight ahead of him. Harry stepped inside and almost vomited from the sight that befell him. Deep scarlet red blood stained the wooden hallway floor in large smears. His eyes travelled along the floor and discovered yet more blood, which then continued in a trail along the ground into the kitchen beyond. It looked as if someone had been injured and dragged themselves along the floor. Despite the phone call minutes earlier, Harry prayed it was not Ruth who had suffered this fate. The thought of her bleeding spurred him on and he followed the trail of blood into the kitchen.
As his eyes finally fell upon her, Harry knew for sure that his heart had just broken. Ruth was lying naked, curled in a foetal position on the cold stone tiled floor, with her back turned to them. Although he did not know if she was conscious or not, she was definitely breathing from the heavy rise and fall of her body and he knew immediately what had happened. The mottled bruising covering her back, arms, and thighs were enough, and Harry almost retched in horror as he spotted blood dribbling down her legs. He balled his fists in anger as he saw that the trail of blood led to this exact point. He spotted the remnants of Ruth's clothes lying teasingly and ripped in a heap next to the door. He heard Dimitri career into the room behind him and swear loudly.
Harry had to force himself to Ruth's side, not wanting to see the damage in its entirety. Slowly, Harry fell onto his knees and not wanting to move her, crawled round to the other side of her. As suspected, the damage was even worse in terms of bruises, and her body held several small cuts. He involuntarily glanced down at her lower body and looked away almost as soon as he had done so. Ruth's beautiful dark hair was splayed out over her battered face, although it barely concealed the beads of sweat from the task of reaching the kitchen and calling him. Harry spotted the phone lying a few inches away from her left hand which was laid away from the rest of her body. Ruth's eyes were closed, and her breathing still seemed to be quite laboured.
Harry made several attempts at summoning his voice before he said so softly, "Ruth?"
Ruth's head twitched slightly in response, but she did not open her eyes. Harry's heart was beating off the scale now, and his breathing was nothing short of erratic. He glanced up at Dimitri who was standing there in wide-eyed shock. Harry could not bear for anyone to see Ruth like this, and he said to Dimitri:
"Go and hurry up that ambulance, and shove some things in a bag for her to take to the hospital."
Dimitri, sensing Harry's agony nodded, pulled out his phone and headed for the stairs. As he heard Dimitri's footsteps on the middle stairs, Harry turned his full attention back to the woman in front of him. He said her name again, and this time got no response at all, so he moved to ever so gently push some of the obscuring hair away from her face. At his touch, Ruth's head flinched and with a small cry she tried to move out of his reach.
"No…please don't." she whimpered in a heartbreakingly small voice.
"Ruth it's Harry."
Harry now felt tears brimming in his eyes- at her pain; with anger at those who did this to her, but he wiped them away in frustration, telling himself he had to be strong for her. He tried not to think about what they had done to her, how long they had made her suffer, and how long she had been in this state before she finally decided to call him. Gently, ever so gently, so he would not frighten her, Harry gently reached out and placed the tips of his fingers in Ruth's outstretched palm. Ruth's eyes flew open and she moved her head with difficultly to search for the source of contact. After a few seconds her eyes focused on Harry's hand resting lightly on her own, and her eyes travelled upwards to meet his. Harry saw such desperation and vulnerability in those eyes that he could not look away, and they stared at each other in recognition for a few seconds. Harry felt Ruth's hand move to hold his more securely, and he took her hint and enclosed his own considerably larger hand around hers. In the only gesture of comfort he could provide at that moment, Harry squeezed her hand gently, and felt both fear and relief when she applied only limited pressure back.
Ruth suddenly moved to try and conceal herself from Harry; with such shame in her eyes it broke Harry's heart even further. He stopped her almost immediately with another brief squeeze of the hand. Not wanting to leave her to fetch a blanket, he shrugged off his coat with his free hand and placed it over her, so that she was no longer displayed humiliatingly in front of him. After this, and with his hand in hers to provide some comfort, he noticed her haunted expression become more calmed. He sat with her until he heard the ambulance sirens outside.
Minutes later, he watched as Dimitri entered the room with three paramedics, who all immediately crowded around Ruth. Ruth, who for the past few minutes had grown comfortable with Harry's presence, looked away from him and noticed the three male paramedics all closing in on her. She gave a cry as one of them began lifting Harry's coat away from her body, and parting her legs to assess the damage, and she frantically tried to shuffle away from them. She felt Harry give another squeeze on her hand and she looked up at him pleadingly, with desperation in her eyes.
"Harry." She said in a small voice.
Harry was about to tell the paramedics to be more gentle, when one of them turned and pulled his hand out of Ruth's. Ruth immediately became distressed, as her only source of comfort had been ripped away from her, and she cried out blindly for him.
"Harry!"
Harry moved to retake his reassuring grip on her hand, when the same paramedic snatched it away again, and said: "Sorry sir, you're distressing her."
Harry immediately felt anger rise up in waves through him; the hatred toward those who had done this to Ruth coming to the forefront. "I think you will find it's you that is upsetting her, and the fact that you won't let me near her!"
At this point, the other two paramedics lifted the coat off Ruth entirely, wrapped a foil blanket carefully around her and lifted her on to an awaiting stretcher. Harry followed her as they deposited her into to the ambulance outside, Dimitri following concernedly in his wake. He was relieved to find that the paramedic inside the ambulance was a woman, and she was now attempting to placate a hysterical Ruth.
"Dimitri, follow us in your car." Harry said, not turning to his officer and stepping into the ambulance next to Ruth. The female paramedic seemed to have no objection to this; on the contrary she appeared to agree to anything that might calm her patient. Harry gently retook Ruth's hand, and Ruth looked quickly at him. He saw a sort of relief in her eyes as she recognised his presence once again.
"Can you tell us your name?" the female paramedic asked Ruth kindly, as one of the male paramedics stepped into the ambulance and closed the door behind him. The other two took the front of the ambulance and set the vehicle into motion.
It was a mark of how distressed Ruth was that she did not reply with any caustic remark to the rather patronising question of one being able to remember ones own name.
"Ruth…Ruth Evershed." Ruth said quietly, calming herself by looking directly into Harry's comforting eyes.
"Age?"
"…Forty."
"Does anywhere hurt specifically?" she asked, as the male paramedic noted all of this down on a clipboard.
Ruth looked fearfully down her body and then moved her eyes back to Harry, unable to answer the question. Harry stroked her freezing hand once again, but the nurse seemed to understand, and she smiled kindly.
"When you get to the hospital, they're going to have to examine you, and to do that they need to know if you have any allergies to any medications."
Ruth shook her head in reply, her eyes still fixed on Harry's.
"Are you on any other medication at the moment?"
Again, Ruth shook her head. Harry did not understand why a sudden fear had risen up in her eyes, and he tried to ask her silently through his own.
"Have you been sexually active recently?" the female paramedic asked.
At Ruth's even more distraught expression, Harry's head shot up and he glared at the considerably younger woman, "What sort of insensitive question is that after all she's been through tonight?" he asked furiously.
"We need to know it for her own good sir." The younger woman said levelly.
"How recently?" Harry demanded, looking down at Ruth, who was now so distressed that tears were beginning to slip down her cheeks again.
"Within the last few months."
Ruth let out a spasmodic hiccough, similar to the one he had heard on the phone, and her eyes met Harry's again, which told the nurse all. Harry felt almost as distressed as she was. "Isn't that enough of the questions?" he asked coldly.
"We just have one more." The paramedic replied calmly, looking down at Ruth. Harry did the same, feeling utterly helpless at being able to help the poor woman next to him. The young paramedic continued, "To your knowledge, are you are pregnant?"
Harry watched as Ruth looked up at him in despair, tears falling thick, fast and uncontrollably down her cheeks, and gasped, "Yes."
Dun dun dun...Aahh all this angst and hurt! Don't worry- I promised you some love and tenderness next did I not? I'm sorry to poor Ruth. I just thought that Harry and Ruth's relationship has always been about timing and is more or less at its peak when they're looking out for eachother or saving one another's lives e.g. Cotterdam, Albany etc. I was wondering if anyone noticed the subtle hints about Ruth's pregnancy along the way in the other chapters? No wonder she's been so angry with him. Please review- they make my day xx More to come soon?
