TW / Descriptions of minor injury and mature themes.

Chapter 12: Last Resorts

"No." Michelle stated firmly, her curls bouncing as she shook her head frantically. "I'm not doing anything for you…"

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask yet." Ray sighed, rolling his eyes. Michelle scoffed. It wouldn't take genius to work it out.

"There's only one thing men like you blackmail women for," She spat, her skin crawling, "and I'm not letting you come anywhere near me…"

"Well, I'm sure Vicky will be very pleased to hear that." He goaded.

"Please, just tell me where she is…" She couldn't help the tremble of her lower lip as she thought about her; alone and terrified. She hated how helpless she felt, having to resort to begging him. At this point she was sure she'd do anything to ensure Vicky's safety. Anything except what she knew he was asking for. She couldn't do that.

"It really is sweet how much you care about her. I'm not sure she cared about you so much when she was trying to get in my bed."

Michelle lunged forwards; palms making contact with his shoulders and sending him flying backwards as she stood up, backing towards the door.

"You're a liar." She hissed, a rogue tear trailing from the corner of her eye. "You're a filthy, disgusting liar and I wish I'd never laid eyes on you!"

"A liar, am I?" Ray laughed, pulling himself up from where he'd landed, sprawled out on the office rug, brushing himself down with greasy palms.

He took one agonisingly slow step towards her, followed by another. She stumbled backwards; her spine pressing into the wooden door. She shrank into herself, trying desperately to edge as far away from him as possible. She reached out an arm, grasping onto the door handle, just as his palm slammed into the wood beside her head.

"She came to find me at the Chariot Square. She was all done up; hair, make up and a dress that didn't leave much to the imagination." He smirked as Michelle flinched, further tears spilling from her eyes. "She said you two had had a fall out and that she needed the company. And so that's what I gave her. Company."

"Where is she?" Michelle emphasised each word through gritted teeth. She didn't want to hear anymore of what he had to say. She wanted her girlfriend; to be able to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

"It was quite pathetic really, the way she threw herself at me." Ray continued; his face pulled into a twisted grin. "She was practically begging for it…"

"If you've touched her, I swear to god-"

"I didn't go anywhere near her, Michelle! I told her where to shove it! I don't know where your flaming girlfriend is! Probably on a park bench somewhere sleeping off a hangover, or still drunk on a street corner."

Michelle shoved him again. This time he stumbled backwards, leaving her enough space to pull the door open.

"I know you've done something Ray!" She spat through tears, "I will find her, and then I'm going to get you for this!"

The flat door slammed shut behind her as she paced breathlessly into the living room, sending Carla jumping up from her position on the couch. She hurried past her and into the kitchenette, retrieving a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. With a trembling hand, she held it to her lips, allowing the liquid to sink down and alleviate the burning in her throat.

"What happened?" Carla's tone was urgent; concerned.

Michelle shook her head, her adrenaline pumping too wildly to form a coherent sentence. The look in her eyes was unhinged; a fire of rage and terror blazing behind her pupils. She dropped the glass carelessly into the sink, before knitting her fingers through her hair, as though physically trying to hold herself together.

The movement caused the sleeve of her jumper to sag; the angry red marks encasing her wrists still had a way to go before they'd fade into bruising. Carla's breath hitched as she took an urgent step forward.

"Chelle, has he hurt you?" She demanded, taking hold of her elbows and easing her hands away from her scalp. Pushing the sleeves up her arms, she examined the mottled skin.

"No." Michelle stated firmly, still shaking her head. She was shivering uncontrollably as her gaze met Carla's concerned eyes.

"What did he say?" Carla pushed, desperate for some clues of how to help. She'd felt so useless sat in the flat all alone, terrified by what could have been happening to Michelle. She'd kept her phone clutched tightly in her hand, ready and waiting to go after her should the call have come.

"He was messing with my head, Carla. Playing his stupid games like he always does!" Michelle raged. Carla let her shout; ranting and railing as the tears fell from her eyes. "One minute he doesn't know where he is, the next they're having secret dates. He knows where she is, then he doesn't. He's screwing with my head and I can't take it!"

Carla's arms flung out instinctively to catch her as she fell sobbing against her chest. Her hand stroked soothingly through light chestnut locks as she rocked her carefully.

"He knows, Carla…" She sobbed quietly into her shoulder. "He knows about Robert. What me and Vicky did…"

Carla pulled away slightly, holding her best friend at arm's length and catching the look in her eye. The fire had dulled, as though she was almost ready to admit defeat.

"How the hell does he know that?" She asked. Other than Tyler and Vicky herself, Carla was the only person who knew, and even then, she hadn't been given the full details.

Michelle let out a breath, explaining what Ray had told her about the hotel surveillance system and how he'd promised to use it against her.

"God, he is such a creep…" Carla exhaled, the disgust clear in her voice.

"I can't bear to think of what he could have done to her." Michelle shook her head, releasing another sob as she brought a hand up to her mouth. She allowed her eyes to drift closed as Carla placed a comforting hand against her bicep.

"So, he's definitely got something to do with it?"

Michelle shrugged, defeatedly. "He must have. Else he wouldn't have tried to blackmail me, or…"

"Or what?" Carla's eyes were boring into hers, desperate to know the ins and outs of her confrontation. Michelle tilted her head, shooting her a pointed look. She couldn't bring herself to say it. The thought alone was enough to make her stomach churn with nausea. "Chelle, did he-"

"Me in exchange for her. That's what he wanted…" Michelle whispered. Carla's eyes fell closed as she bit her bottom lip in an attempt to stop it from trembling.

"But you didn't?" She asked, her breathing heavy.

"No… Oh god, should I have done? What if that was the only chance we had of getting her back?" Michelle battled with herself, covering her face with her hands.

"No Chelle, you can't think like that!" Carla replied, urgently. "We will find her, I promise you. She wouldn't want you to resort to that."

"I'm so scared, Carla…"

She felt herself being pulled into a strong hold and released sob after painful sob into the older woman's shoulder.

"What if we're too late?" Michelle breathed, her voice muffled against the dampened fabric of Carla's top. "What if she's already dead? He could have killed her, for all we know…"

"Hey, no, come on. She'll be out there somewhere. If he knew she were dead then he wouldn't be trying to blackmail you, would he?" Carla was trying desperately to stay positive. Deep down, she had the same fears Michelle was voicing, but as long as there was still a chance for Vicky, she knew they couldn't give up.

Michelle let out a sigh, pulling herself away from Carla and straightening her jumper.

"We need to call the police again." She sighed, rubbing her forehead where an ache had formed.

"What about the CCTV?" Carla asked. She knew that if it came down to it, Michelle would be willing to hand herself in if it ensured Vicky's safety. She offered her a comforting glance, before noticing the set look on her face. "What?"

"I have a plan." She spoke calmly, with a renewed sense of purpose. Carla frowned. "By the time we're finished, there won't be any CCTV."