So, here's the next chapter. Unfortunately, I have no idea when the next update will be, as I am going on vacation for ten days. Updates will just depend on when I can get Internet access, but at the latest it will be about eleven days from now. Thanks in advance for bearing with me! Oh, and you can still review, it would be lovely to check in and see tons of feedback :)
Her head hurt. Her whole body hurt. She was sitting on a crate in a warehouse somewhere, or at least, that's what she thought. Her wrists and ankles were tied and she was tightly gagged. Looking herself over, she saw a lot of blood and momentarily panicked before she realized that she didn't appear to be badly injured, other than a few cuts and a lot of bruises. And then she remembered. She remembered Walker's panicked eyes when he'd come home and been jumped. She remembered being taken to the bathroom and Walker getting loose somehow. And the fight. She remembered the fight like it had just happened; her head was full of replays of Walker getting shot over and over. She could still feel herself smashing into the dining room table and it shattering beneath her. And then it all went black, at least until now.
Though it was dark, she could still make out the shapes of three male bodies, presumably the three that had come to her house. Two of them were arguing, shouting at each other.
"Damn it Michael!" the first one yelled. "Why didn't you check on the man?"
"I shot him like seven times Jamie, there's no way he lived." The other shouted back. Alex's heart sank. They were talking about Walker. Walker was dead. Surely that's why she was stuck here with these animals; Walker wouldn't have let this happen if he was still alive. She turned her thoughts back to the screaming match unfolding in front of her. She took the opportunity to try and get her hands free; none of the men noticed her struggling.
"You don't know that! You might have ruined everything!" Jamie screamed.
"Ruined what? Purcell will take care of it. We got the goods, so what if he lived? He didn't see our faces." Michael reasoned.
"That's not the point! I needed him gone! I needed him dead!"
"You needed him dead? Jamie, what do you mean you needed him dead?" Michael asked slowly.
The man called Jamie shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing. But this is going to get a lot more press now, Antoine's not going to like it."
"Jamie, listen to your big brother for once in your life. Antoine will be fine. We have the goods; they'll fetch a pretty penny. And we get to give him a bonus for this one."
"What are you talking about?"
Michael jerked his head toward Alex, who was still struggling against the ropes that held her tight. "He gets her. That'll make everything all better." He met Alex's eyes and leered. "Do you think he'll let me take a crack at her?"
"She's mine." Jamie stated bluntly.
"I don't think so little brother. Finders keepers."
"Exactly. I picked the house, I found her. Hands off."
"You wish." He walked to where Alex was still struggling, cupping her cheek in his hand. "You and I," he said softly, "would be very good together."
To Alex, it felt like she was back at Casa Diablo, helpless against Cruz Ortega. She felt her eyes well up and fiercely willed them not to spill over. She braced herself as Michael moved his hands down, caressing her breasts. Before he could go any farther though, he flew away from her. She screamed through the gag as he went crashing into the floor. Jamie was standing in front of her, looking livid.
"I said she's mine!" he screamed. "I won't let you ruin this too!"
"What the hell are you talking about? I haven't ruined anything. And you need to watch the way you talk to me!" Michael yelled, getting to his feet.
Jamie took several deep breaths. "Fine. You know what? You're right. He turned so he was facing Alex. "I'm sorry." He slid a hand into his jacket and pulled out a gun. Alex's eyes grew wide, but instead of aiming it at her he whirled around and fired three shots into Michael's chest. Michael's face contorted into an expression of shock as he crumpled to the floor. Jamie calmly walked over to him and glared down at the dying man, eyes full of contempt.
"Why?" Michael whispered.
"You might have ruined everything." Jamie said, emotionless. He raised the gun one more time and fired directly into Michael's skull.
"You know what to do." He said, and Dale stepped out of the shadows where he had been watching the exchange between the brothers. Dale nodded and dragged the body out of sight.
Jamie walked over to Alex as he holstered his gun. "Sorry you had to see that. But now you know what will happen to you if you misbehave." He bent down so that his eyes were level with hers. "I don't want to hurt you. I think you'll be very useful. But until then…" his voice trailed off. He scooped Alex up in his arms and carried her across the warehouse, holding on to her as though she weighed nothing even as she struggled wildly. Jamie got a kick out of the way that felt, being totally in control over her, being totally in control of the situation with his brother. That was what he longed for; control, power, and dominance. That was why he needed his brother out of the way. There was only one other person he had to get rid of. Once he could get rid of Antoine, he would be in charge.
Jamie came to a halt next to a large empty crate. Alex realized what it was for and tried desperately to get loose, even as Jamie lowered her into the crate. Her screams were muffled by the gag and almost completely drowned out as Jamie hauled the lid into place and Alex was plunged into darkness. She heard a padlock being snapped into place and then footsteps leaving.
She kicked the side of the crate over and over and screamed as loud as she could until exhaustion finally kicked in. She tried to survey her surroundings and noted that there were a few holes drilled into the lid of the crate; at least she wouldn't suffocate. It was completely dark though and after an hour of silence she was at it again, screaming, kicking, and struggling, all to no avail. The last thing she remembered before sleep kicked in was Walker's face filling her mind, telling her everything would be okay.
Alex woke with a start, sitting up on the thin mattress covered in sweat. She'd been having the same nightmare almost nightly since she'd been in this place. She stood and walked to the small sink in the corner of her room, more of a cell really. It was small and held only the mattress she had just vacated, the sink she was standing at now, a toilet and a chest of drawers on top of which a lamp was bolted into place. The bolts had arrived after she used the lamp to take a swing at Jamie, who didn't respond kindly to being hit in the head with a blunt instrument. The chest of drawers was hardly necessary, but it had been stocked before she'd arrived. It held dresses similar to the one she was wearing, cotton shifts in various colors. There were a few pairs of underwear but no bras. That was all.
She splashed cold water on her face. There was no mirror, so she couldn't look at herself. She hadn't seen her own reflection in eight months. Eight months she'd been here. Eight months she'd been forced to wait hand and foot on Jamie Carr and whoever else happened to be in the house. She gingerly touched her cheek, bruised from where he'd hit her earlier this evening. Eight months she'd had to put up with the abuse, both physical and emotional.
But now, something had reawakened in the back of her mind, a feeling she hadn't had in eight months. Hope. Trivette was here now and that was a good sign. She hadn't recognized him when she first walked into the room; she'd pegged the strange man as sleazy, dressed all in black with the gold hoop in his ear. But when he spoke, she knew that voice and did a double take, recognizing him. She figured he was undercover and she forced herself to act as she always did around Carr: timid and submissive.
The look on his face when he recognized her had been one of shock and joy, but those emotions had quickly disappeared as he forced himself back into character, Damian Keller as Jamie called him.
She'd given up hope a few months ago after seeing a news story as she served Jamie his dinner; it was the first time she'd been allowed to watch the television since she'd been here. The story was about a man who'd been attacked in his home who had woken up from a coma after a long period of time. They showed his picture; it was Walker. She was elated, Walker was alive and surely he would come for her. But as the news anchors continued she realized that wasn't going to happen. They lamented the fact that Ranger Walker's wife had perished in the fire; a funeral had been held months earlier. It was then that Alex realized that no one was looking for her, no one was going to come barging in here, guns blazing to take her home. She was on her own.
She reflected on all of this whilst standing at the sink. She heard footsteps outside her door and scurried back to her mattress, feigning sleep. The door creaked open and Alex opened her eyes just a little. A man stepped inside and looked around. He was holding a gun and Alex felt her heart race. This was either very good or very bad. It was almost pitch black in the room but Alex was able to make out the silhouette of the man as he slowly walked the perimeter, stopping at the foot of her bed.
"Alex?" It was Trivette.
She sat bolt upright and flicked the switch of the lamp on the dresser. Trivette was in the same clothes as earlier, and upon seeing that it really was her he lowered his gun. Part of Alex believed that this was a dream; surely it was too good to be true. But she felt the weight of the bed shift as Trivette sat down; she felt the touch of his hand as he grabbed one of hers. She needed to know if this was real.
"Jimmy?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his face. She felt warmth there and became slightly more convinced that this was indeed reality.
"Yeah, it's me." Trivette said cautiously, not wanting to upset her. He had no idea what she'd been through since she'd been here. Carr said he hadn't raped her, but Trivette wasn't about to take his word for it. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable; he needed her to trust him if he was going to have a chance at getting them both out of here safely.
He needn't have worried; right before his eyes Alex's eyes welled up with tears and she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest, both to muffle the sound of her tears and to feel his heartbeat, ensuring her that this was real.
Trivette rested his chin on top of her head and held her in his arms. He stared at the wall over her head and felt his own tears streaming into her hair. It really was her.