Warning: This story contains adult language, graphic violence, sexual harassment, attempted rape, graphic rape and sexually explicit themes. Reader's discretion is advised. Rating – R.
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Brett, Brynn, Cocoa, Braden, Meade, Madeline, Brent, Maddock, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine. Sweets, Morning Dew, Meow, Sprite, Spark and children of said characters own themselves.
Chapter 8 – Trapped
A stream of light found its way into her eyes as she lay still in bed. She remained as she felt a warm hand upon her forehead. A scruffy, old man with thick, wire-rimmed glasses and a white mustache stood over her while carefully examining her state.
"I just want you to know that I'm here to help you, Miss."
Brett did not move. She kept herself motionless as she felt a cold instrument between her breasts. She did not like the feel of cold metal against her skin, but she did not feel like fighting off a total stranger, especially since it appeared that he was there to assist in her health. She took a look around the room as the physician continued his examination. It was unfamiliar. The walls were beige and the room slightly comfortable. Around the room were furniture of modest budget and what looked like a fancy Oriental rug on a hard wood floor. A chandelier of frosted glass hung from the center of the ceiling, a veil of dust covering the decoration. This had to be Braden's suite. His own private, sexual romper room. She pondered on how long she had been there. After a few seconds of silence, the doctor removed the stethoscope.
He then made his way over to Braden who was standing a few feet away from the bed. The doctor looked at Brett with kind eyes.
"You're safe now. Your husband told me that you are not feeling well and he's terribly worried. I can help you get better but you must do everything I ask."
Brett remained silent.
"You must force yourself to eat."
"I've done everything I could to persuade her but she refuses. Don't you dear?" Braden said giving the impression that he was concerned. Even in her desolate state, Brett saw right through him. She detected the hint of malice in his voice that went unnoticed by the doctor. Weakened and run down, she did not have the strength to speak up for herself.
"Now you must follow my instructions carefully. Stay in bed, drink plenty of fluids, eat some solid food when you are up to it. And most importantly, you must take my celery tonic without fail." Turning to Braden, the doctor added, "You'll see that she takes her medicine."
"I'll spoon feed it to her myself."
With a nod, the doctor turned around to place a bottle of medicine on the nightstand next to Brett's bed. Before leaving, he gently placed a vein-laden hand onto her shoulder. "You'll be fine, my dear." She closed her eyes as she heard the sounds of footsteps disappear from her room.
Once outside, Braden pulled money from his wallet and handed it to the doctor. "I can't believe it. She's practically starved herself."
Braden nodded. "Yes. She has been under a lot of stress after hearing about her mother's death. She doesn't feel the need to go on anymore."
"Well, I can understand that the shock of the loss of a parent can be very detrimental to a person. However, I think that she should take it easy and not allow herself to become abusive. "
"After a week or two after she's taken the tonic, you can substitute the other formulation. You do understand that there will be side affects such as fatigue, signs of early aging perhaps, all of which can be attributed to the stress and strain of normal living. I consider the treatment entirely necessary."
"One more question, Dr. Moore. How long should she take this treatment?"
"Indefinitely, but I'm afraid that after a while she won't be able to function without it."
After a brief moment of thought, Braden saw the doctor out of his apartment building. Braden was very convincing. The old fool never suspected the lies that he was told. Never would this man assume that Braden was a con artist who just pulled one over on a professional. Brett was now his and he intended to keep it that way.
At the police station, Jack was frantic. He was pacing back and forth trying to remain composed while a flurry of emotions was swirling inside him. Spot, Race, Mush, and Blink were present as they watched their friend try to collect himself. It had been two days since Brett's disappearance and the gang was there for Jack. He sent the kids over to Mush and his wife's place since they were nearby and offered to help Jack with his kids since Brett was absent. Spot and Dewey offered to take the children on the weekends so that they could spend some time with them and have fun in Brooklyn. But among those reasons, the main one was that they did not want to see Jack lose it in front of his kids. To avoid mass fear, the children were told that Brett had to leave town because her friend Brynn, who was currently living in Boston, was sick and she had to go see her. Jack couldn't bring himself to tell his children that their mother was missing and that even he didn't know where she was. Keeping the peace was the top priority.
"Why don't you sit down and rest for a while, Jack?"
"No, Spot. I can't. I can't just sit here and wait for the bulls to come and tell me some bad news about my wife."
"You know that walking back and forth like a madman is only gonna make you more upset than you already are."
Jack just looked at Blink and kept his pace. He didn't feel like hearing advice from his friends, even though he knew they meant well. The woman that he loved was absent from his life and that of his children's and he needed to find her. He continued to walk from side to side listening to the maddening footsteps of his own person.
From a distance, a short, mild-mannered-looking man slowly approached the crowd. "Sergeant McClaggan will see you now, Mr. Kelly." He said to Jack.
Inhaling a silent breath, Jack followed the gentleman at a snail's pace but with much anticipation brewing in his mind. Jack eventually made it to a large, dark mahogany desk with a rather large man seated behind it.
He turned his head to face Jack with watery blue eyes and an expressionless face. He swiveled around in his seat and placed papers down in front of him before twisting the end of his white, handlebar mustache.
"Well, Mr. Kelly. According to your report, you have a case of a missing wife. Is that correct?"
"Yes." Jack said softly.
"Well, before I begin an investigation, I would need more information from you. When was the last time you saw your wife?"
Jack moistened his lips before speaking. "Five weeks ago." Sergeant McClaggan took notes.
"And do you have any idea where she may have gone?"
"No, probably shopping."
"Does she ever tell you where she goes?"
"No. She's always been pretty independent. She does what she does and makes sure it gets done."
Sergeant McClaggan continued taking notes as he listened to Jack's testimony of Brett's behavior. As he began scribbling away at the details, Jack recollected every feature of Brett's behavior, from her daily routine to her occasional stunt of being out of character. Like the time she was trying to bake cookies for the kids and ended up in a dough and flour fight. Jack was shell-shocked when he saw his usually pristine wife covered head-to-toe in flour along with the children. Meade, Madeline, and Brent looked up in fear of what was going to happen once Jack's temper flared, but Brett only smiled. She knew that her husband would get over the discrepancy and probably join them in the fun. Brett never ceased to amaze him. Moments like that ran through his mind now.
Jack pulled out a picture from his wallet and opened it. Encased among the dollar bills and wads of paper was a picture of his beloved. She had given him a picture of herself from days before they met; years before one knew the other even existed. Brett looked very demure in her floor-length ball gown proudly displaying her décolletage for the world to see. Her dark hair was swept up with long tendrils framing her face quite nicely. Jack looked with admiration as one of the curls rested playfully against one of her high cheekbones that were lightly colored with blush. He remembered dancing with her at a dance Medda hosted where her hair was in the exact same style and he couldn't take his eyes off of her as they twirled around on the dance floor. They were probably the most admired couple that night.
His eyes then wondered over towards his own hand that sported his wedding ring, the only artifact, in addition to a marriage certificate, that proved his bond of holy matrimony. He knew looking at this symbol of matrimony that his beloved Brett was somewhere in the confines of New York City alive and well and he knew in his heart of hearts that they were going to be reunited.
"Can you give me a description of your wife, Mr. Kelly?"
"Yeah, sure. But I think this would be more helpful to you, Sergeant." Jack handed his picture to the officer. After careful scrutinizing of the photograph, McClaggan promptly handed it back to him.
"I will put two men on the case. They will keep you posted on what progress they've made within the next two to three weeks. I will station them in two of the most likely boroughs that she may be - Manhattan and Harlem. I'll see to it that they fill me in on every report."
"I want the best men you've got, Sergeant. I don't want any mishaps or shenanigans happening. What I want is very simple. I want my wife back."
Sergeant McClaggan nodded. "As you wish, Mr. Kelly."
Jack swiftly rose from his seat and headed back to his circle of friends who were patiently waiting for him. Racetrack approached him first. "Ya okay, Jack?"
"Yeah." He softly replied, clearly itching to get out of the police station as soon as possible with his close-knit group of friends following suit.
He teased her nipple with his tongue making it stand out before him. He enveloped her breast with his mouth causing another audible gasp from her. He sucked and teased her breast, one with his mouth the other with his hand, working her into an excited frenzy.
Brett found herself lost in the pleasure he was supplying her. From the sound of his moans, she assumed he was as wrapped up in this feeling as she was. He increased the pace of his finger and pressure of his tongue. She was pushed into unspeakable pleasure. Which each new movement he made, she was pushed a little higher. With every new sound she made, he felt himself becoming more lost. He wanted to push her to her peak. He wanted to feel the waves of pleasure wash over her, and know that he caused it.
He planted kisses on the face and one long kiss on her lips as he slid into her, filling her with his manhood.
"Oh, yes. Oh, yes…please don't stop." Brett kept saying as she was mounted furiously by her lover. Never halting his actions, he kept up his pace as his sweaty body thrust forward to cloak his penis within the woman beneath him. She matched him thrust for thrust as he kept up his fast pace. Their breathing came faster and louder. Brett started to cry out as the waves of pleasure threatened to take over her. He could tell she was almost there and knew she was taking him with her. He worked harder trying to reach the plateau they were both aiming for. Faster and harder he rode her until he felt her walls spasm around him causing him to reach his peak. He exploded furiously inside her. As he filled her, they became connected in a way only love and passion could do. Brett laid there in sweet bliss as her sexual high gradually started to fall.
As she opened her eyes she saw that she was still in her current domain. This sexy beast that she had just made love to was just as exhausted as she. She stared at him as her hormonal levels began to balance. This is what love was. She thought. This is what it is.
But there was something different about this man. Something about him that she could not place. She though that maybe this was just the effects of her orgasmic high wearing off. Brett wasn't sure. The loving eyes that she had come to know began to change. They were no longer their pretty hazel that sometimes changed into green when serious or overcome with lust. They were darker. Much darker. The hair became blacker and the lips slightly fuller. Mounting her with great force was not the man that she loved or the man to whom she was married. She began to scream but her scream was cut off by the presence of a fierce kiss. Slithering his tongue into her oral cavity, she could feel the warm blood between her lips and taste its coppery, metallic flavor as her lip bled from his biting her to prevent further resistance. With brute force he pulverized his way into her broken body as she struggled against his assault. The pain and fear was overwhelming and she just wanted it to stop. A torrent of dizzying emotions pounded her mind. Terror… revulsion… disbelief…. She lay there panting and crying softly to herself, unmoving. Her brain started to go numb. It started to feel as if she were watching herself from a great distance.
She didn't know how long it lasted. Her brain didn't comprehend the passage of time. Her mind was numb…frozen. It felt like an eternity. She listened to the various sounds outside her window - from the blowing of a policeman's whistle to the sound of a pimp slapping and yelling at his unwilling whore, she knew that she was in a place where she didn't belong. Her thoughts drifted to different things – anything to take her mind off of the current situation. Staring into the mild darkness, she listened to the mindless chatter of people outside in the hallways and the alleyways, focusing so she couldn't hear the guttural noises of the man on top of her. She felt her pulse pounding dully in her ears and tried not to feel the man's heartbeat through her own skin. She centered on the pain that seared through her chest with each lungful of air, desperate not to feel the hideous invasion between her legs.
Eventually his movements became faster and irregular and his panting ragged. He cried out in a deep, guttural voice and she felt a rush of warm wetness inside her. He stayed within her for a few moments before rolling off her, freeing her to move once again.
Brett remained still. She remained on her back as her aggressor rested himself on her side. She continued to listen to the voices of the outsiders as the attacker got up and reassembled his clothes on his body.
Moments later, the door creaked and then slammed with a sound that echoed deeply throughout the room.
The lock clicked.
She was alone.