The Choice, Chapter 10

Notes: Okay, guys, this is the big finale, and it is DARK. BE TOLD. This is not for the faint of heart. I have written and said sick things, for the integrity of the story. These are things that sicken me, too, and I don't advocate ANYTHING that happens herein...I had to warn you seriously, before jumping in...

July 18, 1987

Junior Caldwell nearly giggled in giddy anticipation. It was his eighth birthday, and his friends and family were gathered at the home of his Father for the biggest and best birthday party ever. They'd already had cake in the shape of a Ninja Turtle, ice cream and punch, and so much candy that they might never come down from their sugar-high. They'd opened presents, and he'd gotten everything he asked for, including a new go-cart to ride around the neighborhood. None of his friends had one yet, and he thought about making them pay to ride around in his. His older sister Genevieve had suggested games: piñata, pin-the-tail and hide and go seek, and Junior had agreed, knowing just where to hide.

He was carefully tucked away in the huge armoire in his sister Kelly's room, with his hand gleefully clapped over his mouth, waiting for the moment when someone would fling open the door and discover him. He just hoped he wouldn't pee on himself or scream when they did.

His sister Kelly stood at the door to her own bedroom, and noticing the door to her armoire was ajar, carefully began to tiptoe towards it. Junior had been a "surprise" to both of her parents, and was almost ten years younger than Kelly, their next-youngest. Kelly doted on Junior, took him everywhere, told everyone that he was her little pet, and he loved the attention. Kelly herself had planned the birthday party so that it would be more special, and arranged for Junior to have everything he had ever wanted.

Junior watched as his brother Bryce entered the room and shut the door, locking it behind him. Bryce had come home from school especially for the party, and Junior couldn't wait to be alone with him to talk about school and girls. He watched as his brother and sister interacted, keeping quiet, hoping equally that they would and wouldn't find him. Upon her brother's entry, Kelly whirled around, surprised, and then narrowed her eyes at Bryce accusingly.

"What are you doing in here, Bryce? This is my room!" Her voice sounded young and childish, even though she was only a month shy of being eighteen.

"We're playing hide-and-go-seek, aren't we? You're hiding. I am but a seeker," he answered, his voice oily.

"I'm not hiding. I'm looking for Junior," Kelly argued.

"I think he's in Mother's room. Probably in her hope chest. You know he loves to hide there," Bryce came to stand next to her, and she repressed a shudder. He reached out to stroke her long, golden hair. Kelly had long felt threatened by her brother, but had never voiced it for fear of their Father's wrath. She never thought it was natural that her brother should be so interested in her, peeking in on her, staring at her intensely, and following her around the house. The few times that he came home to visit since he'd left for college, she stayed close by her mother's side, or stuck like glue to Genevieve, who was only a year older. She even went so far as to sleep in Genevieve's room when Bryce was home. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even been in the same room alone with him in years.

"So...go find him, then," Kelly choked, uncomfortable by her older brother's mere presence. "Leave me alone."

"C'mon, Kelly, why all this animosity? I'm your older brother," his tone didn't even come close to sincerity. He sidled closer to her, touching her back with his palm. Kelly jerked away from him, and he frowned.

"Don't touch me, you creep!" she hissed, taking an enormous step backwards.

"You slut!" Bryce took several steps closer to her until they were toe-to-toe. "Don't think I don't see you around here with all your boyfriends, and your drugs, your Highness." His smile was predatory. "I'll tell Dad you're sleeping with every black guy you can wrap your legs around."

Kelly's eyes were wide and frightened. "He'll kill me."

"Yes, he will," Bryce smiled hugely. He knew there was nothing his sister feared more than she feared their father; and there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep him happy.

"What do you want from me?" her tone was guarded and Bryce leered at her.

"No! You're sick!" she shoved her knuckles into his arm and jumped on her bed as if to escape across it and out the door. Bryce's hand shot out and wrapped firmly around her ankle, pulling her onto the bed in one solid jerk.

"You're the one who is sick, you slut!" he clamped his hand over her mouth as he slithered on top of her to stare into her huge, teary, terrified eyes. "Sleeping with any guy who will have you, snorting anything and everything up your nose. I bet you even take it up your ass, you whore. You filthy whore."

Kelly shook her head violently, desperate to get away from him. She struggled, but he just pinned her harder, with more force and sick glee. She tried to bite his hand, but her teeth just slid off his skin. She wondered if she would drown in her own saliva, but forced herself to swallow and to breathe.

Bryce's smile widened. "I tell you what. I'm going to give you a choice. Either you're going to let me fuck you, right here and now, or I'm going to tell Dad what you do with every coon in Reno."

Kelly gasped for breath as Bryce uncovered her mouth, then just as quickly covered it again.

"Say it, Kelly," he sing-songed. "Or I'll fuck you anyway and tell Dad you begged for it."

Tears were flowing from Kelly's eyes, blinding her, making it impossible to see her brother's menacing face. She heard it, though, in his voice, his tone. He was going to kill her, she was sure of it. But he didn't. He just mounted her, pulling her pants down around her knees and smothering her into the bed, humping until he was through and then standing up.

He spit on her face as he pulled his shorts back on, and she cried while she pulled up her own shorts. He left the room in a cocky flourish, slamming the door behind him forcefully.

Junior Caldwell stood in the armoire, his entire body shaking with silent sobs. He emerged and Kelly looked up from were she sat on the side of the bed, wiping the mucus of her face. Junior waddled over to her and threw his arms around her waist. She rocked him in her arms and cried.

When Mrs. Caldwell found them an hour later, they were in the same position, their faces sad and solemn. She asked them what was wrong, questioned them for days, but neither lost their mournful demeanor.

And nine months later, when Kelly gave birth, neither her mother nor her father could be angry with her, as they agreed her own melancholy, which threatened to overwhelm their entire family, was punishment enough.

July 18, 2003

Nick was taking the corners on two wheels. Speeding furiously, he knew he should have paused long enough to grab a set of emergency lights for the top of his car. He hadn't, hadn't wanted to waste a single second. He flew through a red light, to the consternation and loudly blaring horns of other motorists.

He made it to Marty's Market in less than seven minutes flat. Sara's car was, as was her usual custom, parked in the rear of the parking lot. There were plenty of empty spaces, but she loved the exercise. When Nick bitched at her, told her parking closer was safer, she always scoffed at him and reminded him that she did better on her yearly physicals than even he did.

Around the open passenger door were bottles and jars and her bags, strewn around, and the receipt was blowing away. The crowd of onlookers around the car looked perplexed, and none of them ventured forward to touch anything. Nick's tires squealed as he jerked to a stop in front of the car.

Jumping out, he immediately yelled, "Did anyone see what happened here?"

The bystanders shook their heads, murmured negative replies. Nick was frantic, breathing hard, his heart practically beating out of his chest, and sweating. Sara's hearing aid was crushed into the asphalt, and the sight of it made Nick desperate. Sara would never willingly take it out, it was her only link to him.

A cruiser swung into the parking lot and as it pulled up, Nick recognized Davis and Reinhardt from their personnel file photos. Davis was out of the car before Nick could yank the door open.

"Hey, you're Sark's husband," he stated dumbly.

"Poker nights!" Nick cried. "Where do you have poker night?"

"Whoa, buddy, you just need to calm down."

"He's got her! He's got Sar...my wife," Nick babbled.

"Who's got her? What's this about?" Reinhardt approached him, his hand resting on his gun.

"Look," Nick pulled out his wallet. "I'm LVPD. We're undercover to catch a serial rapist. For God's sake, Caldwell has got her! She's next, if we don't find her," he showed them both his badge, and then watched as they eyed it and then each other.

"Maybe we should just all go in to the station and talk about this..." Davis suggested, but Nick only became more agitated.

"Please, she's in danger. He could kill her; we have to leave now. Tell me where you have your poker nights. Tell me where he would take her," Nick begged.

"Well, the old Caldwell place is over on Eighth street, but..." Davis began, still uncertain.

"I'm going, I need backup," Nick was already headed to his car, running over.

"We'll follow," Davis shrugged at Reinhardt helplessly and they both got back into their cruiser and followed Nick out of the parking lot. Davis turned the sirens and the lights on, which allowed Nick to travel at breakneck speed across the bridge and down rough streets towards the railroad tracks. Practically flying over them, he allowed the cruiser to overtake him finally when they reached Eighth Street, and as they pulled into the huge yard of one of the biggest houses Nick had ever seen, he knew that Caldwell had not brought her here.

Jumping out of the car, he all but sprinted towards the door. Pounding it furiously, he heard creaking and saw pale gray eyes peek out at him from behind the curtain in the door pane.

"Mrs. Leads?" he gasped.

Sara was dreaming. Nick was there, and he was kissing her softly, and he smelled so good. A niggling in the back of her mind was telling her something wasn't right, but as long as she was in his arms, listening to him whisper sweet things to her, she didn't see how that could be so. She was swimming in a pool, so warm and cool at the same time. The cold water tickled at her neck, and the warm sun baked her skin. Nick swam over to her, pulling her into his embrace, allowing her to float on the top of the water as he held onto her face and kissed her, so softly, so sweetly. He loved her. He loved her, loved her. He lovedherlovedherlovedher…

"I don't know where he is!" Kelly Leads said again, exasperated.

"Like I was trying to tell you, Sark. We have polker nights, here, but he's got his own place over on Lakeside," Davis's drawl was much too slow for Nick's rapid-fire thoughts.

"You think he would go there?" Nick turned back towards Kelly, but she was withdrawn once again.

"I already told you, I don't know. I don't know where he would go," she muttered.

"How would I get there?" Nick insisted.

"Well...you could take Eighth down to Guadalupe and make a right eight streets down onto Lakeside. His house is at 1578 Lakeside, but..."

Nick was already bounding down the steps in front of the house out to the curb, waiting for nothing and no one. "I'll meet you over there," he called over his shoulder to a dumbfounded Reinhardt and Davis. They figured he was on a wild goose chase, but as long as he was on it, they reckoned they should follow him.

"Let's take the shortcut and beat him there," Reinhardt suggested as they ambled back to the cruiser.

"The way he drives, we'll be lucky if he doesn't get there first," Davis answered dryly, turning on the emergency siren as he pulled back onto the street.

Nick rounded the corner onto Guadalupe, barely managing not to flip the car over as he was going so fast. He sped down the street, slamming on his brakes for a baseball game that was being held out in the middle of the street. It was familiar surroundings, Nick remembered this is where Sara had come after following Max home. He waited for the kids to clear the street, then carefully drove through them before slamming on the gas again.

At the corner before Lakeside, he ran a stop sign, then glanced over to his left as her passed the large home were Max had lived. He could still see crime scene tape on the door, but there, hidden beneath willowy trees in the shade of the drive, was a dark green Chevy blazer. Nick slammed on the brakes, and turned the wheel into a spin, bringing it to a stop in front of the neighbor's home, facing the opposite direction. Getting out of the car, he pulled out his weapon and took the safety off.

Sara awoke to a blinding pain throbbing across the back of her head. Coming to, she jerked against the restraints that were pinning her naked body to the bed. Looking down, knowing what was happening, she cried out in agony, pulling up against the ties binding her. She couldn't believe what was happening to her. She never thought it could happen to her. And now she might die because of that arrogance.

Her heart clenched. She had to get through this. She had to survive. She'd hadn't told Nick she loved him, she never got the chance. Just this morning, he'd offered his love to her. She hadn't wanted to admit her feelings, not yet. And now she might never have the chance. She had to survive, if only to tell him she loved him back. She had to tell him how deep and perfect her love was.

Sara began her struggle again. She bucked wildly for several minutes, clawing at the air futilely. She whimpered and screamed and finally stopped. From the dark corner of the bedroom, she heard a chuckle. Her heart jumped with fear as he stepped closer into the light.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She begged. "We're friends!"

"I'm no one's friend," his voice was ragged, his breathing heavy. His unearthly gray eyes glowed as he loomed over her. "You, Sara, my sweet angel, you finally get to make The Choice."

"Junior, I..." at that moment, Nick burst through the door.

Nick had quickly cleared the bottom floor of the Maxwell's home, and kept his stance as he crept up the wide staircase. He inspected all three bedrooms nearest to the hall, and then made his way down to what he only assumed could be the master bedroom. Everywhere there was evidence of the crime scene investigators, tick marks and indicators and numbered cards.

He reached for the doorknob to the room at the end of the hall and kicked the door open. His beautiful Sara was tied spread eagle at the end of the bed, and Junior Caldwell was standing at her side, his gun trained on Nick. Nick aimed at Caldwell and it seemed the two were at a standoff until Nick felt the cold press of a gun barrel at the nape of his neck.

Junior smiled, feral, as hot, sticky breath across the back of Nick's neck ordered him to drop the gun. Fearing Sara's safety, Nick dropped the gun. His hands were jerked behind him viciously, and handcuffed. He was forced into the room, and he stumbled over to the opposite corner. Junior Caldwell smiled and knelt down next to Sara, watched her eyes widen with terror.

"I've never given someone the Choice quite like this before," he stroked the back of his hand across her cheek, causing her to recoil. His voice was almost intimate, like a lover.

"I've warmed up the curling iron especially for you. Do you want it? Or do you want to be given a choice?"

Sara's body felt frozen in fear. "The Choice," she gasped.

"Your Choice is to be savored, my sweet angel. You've been looking for me for so long. You should get a very special Choice."

Nick fought against the restraint, lunging forward. He was jerked backwards and Junior squinted as he pointed the gun at Nick, before turning his attention back to Sara.

Junior picked up the curling iron and wrapped his hand around it, watching Nick. "I love the smell of burning flesh...don't you, angel? Think about what this could do to your sticky insides," he hissed as a nauseating smell reached Sara's nostrils accompanied by the sizzle of the hot metal meeting his skin.

Sara whimpered, looked towards Nick, begged him with her eyes not to do anything sudden.

"Sa-ra. Sa-ra," Junior sing-songed, forcing the barrel of his gun up under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "What is love? Love, unconditional love, means that you would sacrifice yourself for someone else, someone that you love. It can't be quantified, or justified, but it's there, because we sacrifice," he rambled. "Are you ready, Sara?"

Sara nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

"What is your greatest love? Is it this man? It is, isn't it?"

Sara nodded again, hot tears coursing down the sides of her face, gravity pulling them out towards her ears.

"Say it," Junior's gun was at her temple.

"He's my greatest love," she blurted immediately.

"No!" Nick cried.

"One more sound and I'll shoot," the dark voice whispered behind his ear. The gun cocked, and Nick looked on miserably as Junior smirked.

"Do you know what happens if you turn me in?"

Sara nodded again, not trusting her voice.

"I'm going to tell you anyway," Junior said, emitting a sick giggle. "The man Stan over there, the man with the plan," he used his gun to gesture to his partner. "He's going to draw and quarter Mr. Stokes with a team of four horses. Would you like to find his head in your bed? He's going to rip his flesh off in long strips and eat them one by one. He's going to drag his body across hot coals and sodomize him with this same curling iron. Gives a whole new meaning to pain in the ass, huh?"

A low cry escaped her throat as she stared across the room to Nick in anguish.

"Are you ready to make the Choice?" he too, cocked his gun, and pointed it at Sara again.

Sara could only shake her head in response.

"Who will be the sacrificial lamb, my sweet angel? You or Nick? Nick or you?" He hummed the jeopardy tune in her ear.

"I am," she croaked. "Don't hurt him."

Junior jerked his head back over towards Nick. "Didja hear that, Nicky boy? You wanna watch? Tick tock, tick tock, Nicky."

"I'm not leaving her," he forced himself to say.

"Wouldn't want you to miss the fun," Junior grinned. He stood to unzip his pants, not relinquishing his gun.

The door to the bedroom burst open, and Junior stepped back, and aimed. A shot rang out, and Nick fought to see in the darkness who had been shot. Sensing his opportunity, he shoved an elbow into the stomach of his captor, not an easy feat considering he was handcuffed. His attacker dropped his gun and Nick dropped like a stone on top of it. Junior Caldwell was on the floor, facing him, his gray eyes bloody.

Nick jerked back just in time to see a sick pair of red eyes staring back at him.

"Sweet Mother of God," he gasped, wishing he could cross himself.

Another shot rang out, and Nick realized as the kid was flung backwards that the bullet had hit him in the shoulder. Spinning around, desperately, feeling foolish and needing to get to Sara, he yanked himself across the floor to the side of the bed.

Yates stepped over Junior Caldwell's body towards Sara and knelt next to her, releasing her bonds. Davis skittered into the room on one foot, and immediately took in the scene with sick horror.

"Uncuff me!" Nick demanded, and wordlessly, Davis dropped to his knees and got out the keys to his cuffs. He couldn't stop surveying the sick display and Nick thrust his hands backward at Davis to get his attention. Davis's hands trembled as he released Nick. Nick shot up and was over to Sara's side in seconds.

He pulled her into his arms, pulling a throw from the chair by the bed to wrap it around her. He lifted her off the bare mattress and into his arms. Emotionally exhausted, he wasn't sure his knees wouldn't give out.

For the first time, he heard the sirens on the street and saw the flashing lights from the gauzy curtains of the bedroom. Stumbling across the floor of the bedroom, he stepped across Junior and towards the door. Sara's hands were weakly clutching at his neck, and he knew he had to get her to a hospital.

He barely made it down the hall past the rush of officers and paramedics. He carried her all the way out of the house and only let her go to put her on a gurney. He followed her into the back of the ambulance, and watched the melee unfold behind him as the ruby and sapphire lights lit up the street as they departed.

TO BE CONTINUED, and indeed, finished. Shortly.