Chapter 13

Their eyes were frozen in emotion, both not believing the moment that had just escaped them. Theresa's body seemed to stand rigid in fear and she didn't move, Gwen's gaze hauntingly captivating. Both women held guns in their hands and for a moment, after the finger pulled around the trigger, she couldn't open her eyes for fear that she wouldn't be able to. A coy smile spread across her enemy's face and it seemed to taunt with more concern than it did fear.

This was wrong.

She couldn't understand what had just happened. There was an impact over the entire moment that seemed to convey in a shattering silence; resonating in solitary noise. Theresa's chest was rising and falling with each quick breath, still in disbelief over what had happened. Gwen's eyes were solid in shock. What happened? Both women stared into the eyes of their enemies and replayed the last few seconds in their minds.

"You know, Theresa, I want you to know that I'm doing you a favor. You've seemed to make a royal mess of everything in your path and I'm happy to relieve you of it all." Their winding circle stopped and Gwen made sure that the tip of the gun was pointed in the center of Theresa's forehead-- the exact place for extensive, fatal damage. "And I want you to know that I will take care of your family. I'll love Little Ethan as my very own and Ethan… well, we'll pick up right where we left off before you bewitched him and took him from my life." There was a silent pause and Theresa did her best not to dwell on what Gwen had just said. It was too painful to think of what she could be losing. But Gwen was right. They fought the battle and Gwen won-- just as she said she would. "Say goodbye, Theresa…" Gwen's finger tightened on the trigger and Theresa closed her eyes. She heard a loud noise and saw a flash.

BANG.

That sound continued to play inside both of their ears, clicking to life with the image of a gun. As Theresa remembered the gun pointed at her and the hatred in Gwen's eyes, she felt the ripples of the thoughts passing through her head. Tears stung when she thought that she might never taste her mother's hot chocolate at Christmas time again. The feeling of her brothers' hugs seemed to pull at her body and the curious gaze that left her son's eyes made her feel like a failure inside. The memories flooded her mind and the tears quickly threatened when she realized that she would never again know the scent of Little Ethan's hair after a bath or the look of aggressive protection in Luis' eyes or the sound of Ethan's heartbeat when he kissed her.

Ethan. Her husband; her hero.

Gwen's smile was terrifying and Theresa knew it would be the last thing she'd ever see. Not wanting to remember life that way, she closed her eyes and thought of the happier times of her life with the people she loved the most--the very people she couldn't help but feel that she had let down. Gwen's finger squeezed the trigger, silently saying au revoir to her mortal enemy that had been such a thorn in her side for many years. The next sound that escaped the silence surprised both the women.

Theresa slowly opened her eyes, wondering if she was still standing or if her body had gone into such shock that she didn't recognize what was happening around her. Gwen's gun was still in front of her but Gwen's smile slid from her visage in disgust. The sound they heard was the empty clicking of the gun barrel. Gwen turned the gun back to herself to inspect it and she learned that the gun only held one bullet and she had mistakenly thought it was in the next chamber to be shot.

When Theresa saw that Gwen was distracted and not paying attention, she took her moment to her advantage and tried to flee, the intensity around her making her forget about the pistol in her hand. Gwen immediately looked up and grabbed the wrist that held the gun and pulled her back. "And just where do you think you're going?" Theresa tried to speak, she wanted to speak but her voice caught at the back of her throat in fear. With a quick flick of her wrist, Gwen flipped the chamber closed and just as she was about to shove the dark piece of steel back in Theresa's face, Theresa remembered that she too had a heavy object pulling at her arm on her left side. The two women, as if out of a movie, pulled the guns to each other's faces, arms stretched out .

Theresa's wrist was shaking and Gwen's arm had an unnerving calm, steady and ready to kill. It was almost a crazy feat and somehow Gwen got images of the Quick Draws of the Wild West in her mind. She laughed aloud, briefly throwing her head back. "Are you gonna shoot me, Theresa?"

Somehow Theresa didn't find it quite as funny. "Aren't you gonna shoot me?"

Gwen's eyebrows danced upwards, laughing along with the rest of her features. Her shoulders squared and fell with a quick shrug. "Depends. Do you want me to?" The mocking look on Gwen's face only infuriated Theresa further. Theresa didn't respond and Gwen couldn't help but let a hearty chuckle escape from her lips. It was a proud, annoying laugh that only dripped with a harsh sound that Theresa would never be able to forget. "Oh, Theresa…," she mocked. "What do we do now? Do we both shoot to see who dies first?" Theresa didn't answer again and let her spiteful stare burned into Gwen. "Did I scare you, Theresa? I saw you flinch when you heard me pull the trigger. How did it feel? To feel so close to death? Tell me… how did it feel to know that everything you love would be mine?"

Theresa's heart was pounding and she was sure that her rival could hear it. The gun was shaking slightly in her hand and she prayed for all the strength to keep her senses under control. Could she really shoot Gwen? The time was coming quickly to find out.

"Let's play a game…," Gwen began. Her circular, vulture-like path continued once more and Theresa's ankles shook and felt heavy when she stepped. "Ever heard of Russian Roulet?" Theresa swallowed hard, trying to keep her weakening composure. She had heard of the torturous game from her brother Luis when he would tell her of the sick strategies people would play on their victims. A gun was used and only one bullet was loaded into it. The assailant would spin the chamber quickly, letting the one bullet dance inside the metal, taunting their victim. They would point the gun and pull the trigger a few times, the victim not knowing if the next round held a bullet; if their life would end in the next second.

Theresa was in no mood to play one of Gwen's stupid gun games and definitely could not stomach the fear. She would rather have Gwen shoot her than have to deal with the fear of losing her life with each click, even if she opened her eyes after it.

"Ready, Theresa? Time to play." Apparently Gwen didn't wait for Theresa's answer to the invitation to Russian Roulet and she didn't seem to notice. There was no time for reaction on Theresa's part and she stood there staring at her enemy a wondering look in her eyes. What was she going to do? With a quick motion, Gwen raised the gun to Theresa's head and squeezed the trigger.

BANG.

As Luis and Mark climbed through the window of the turned-dangerous lavish getaway, they felt a sense of accomplishment after waiting half an hour before finally being able to get in. Perhaps they had overestimated Gwen and had considered her dangerous enough to have machine guns pointed out from all the windows, but Luis wasn't taking any chances. He knew how much she hated Theresa and he was going to do this right to protect his baby sister. This was family and he wasn't going to let his stupid pride, even as a brother, interfere with saving those he loved.

Luis had used the butt of Mark's gun to break the glass and he had hoped that no one inside would have heard it. When he broke one of the panes enough to fit through, he hurled himself in side, careful not to fall on the broken glass on the floor. Mark followed his partner's lead and repeated his movements inside the cabin. Both men stood and kicked the glass away from their feet quietly and said nothing as they took in their surroundings.

They hadn't expected to enter this sort of room but it was then that they had realized it fit their purpose. There was a huge porcelain tub, empty of anything. Candles and other female bath tendencies surrounded the shelf around it. There were a few jets at the bottom of the ivory colored tub that told the detectives that it was a whirlpool. The bathroom was large and it didn't surprise them to find such a room in a Crane holding. The floor was marble tiling and it had a deep indigo tint speckled with a jade-like color.

As Mark looked over to the double-sinked counter, also ivory basins with marble surroundings, he gave a scoff when he noticed what was around the sinks. Several designer perfumes and exclusive day spa creams, facial aides, and crushed pearl and Dead Sea lotions.

Only the best.

"Cranes…," Luis said distastefully as his gaze followed Mark's. But now was not the time to appraise or gawk at expensive items. They had a job to do. "Let's do this," Luis said, goading Mark to the door. As Mark's eyes looked from the fortune-costing cosmetics to Luis, he noticed the crimson color staining through the shirt he wore and across his cheek.

"You all right?" Mark asked Luis.

Luis looked confused and Mark nodded his head in the direction of the bloody lines. "Oh, yeah… I just--I scraped the glass on the way in," he said, patting the two streaked gashes on his left cheek. There was one on his side and there was a rip in his pants. Mark had torn a few threads on the way in but he had escaped with no slices touching his skin.

Without another word, Mark drew his weapon and stood close to Luis as he opened the door. Both men, being trained to do so, pressed themselves to the wall on either side of the door and waited for a sound. Mark had his gun cocked upwards and Luis felt out of place without a gun to hold between his palms. Both Luis and Mark waited for a sound and heard nothing. Luis looked over to Mark across from his and gave him a signal and nodded his head. With the swiftness that comes with practice at a police academy and nerves of steel, Mark launched his gun forward with both arms, making a V pointing outward to any foes that might face him. His shoulders were up, his legs apart for balance and it all took place in milliseconds.

As soon as Mark stepped into the doorway and faced the darkness before him, he heard a piercing sound that frightened him and made his blood rush faster. It was a woman's scream…

It was odd how accustomed Ethan's eyes had become to the darkness over the time he had been held captive by Gwen. The room that Gwen kept him in was covered from light, he guessed that she had somehow managed to conceal light from windows with tarps, blankets of some sort. He felt as a feline hunter would out in the night; their eyes reflecting every spec of light they could, moonlight or even the light silver of water, quickly giving them a night vision ability to see in darkness.

How long had he been held prisoner in this room? He couldn't tell anymore. It seemed as if it was always night now. His eyes had adapted to the lightless surroundings and he could make out the lines of two doors in the room. There was a rug in front of one of them, the origin no doubt Persian with red accents and a beautiful design.

There was so much time he had to think lately. Whether it was the thickness of the doors, his hate for Gwen, his hope for being rescued, Theresa's safety, his son, or his mother-in-law, it all haunted him in moments like this. He held Pilar close to him as he sat on the cot, her head on his shoulder. She had become so drained lately. She could no longer cry and her worry for her children, her grandchild, as well as herself had consumed her in a constant silence. She came to find some comfort in Ethan but scary thoughts still filled her mind. She still wondered if she would ever see her children again, or daylight for that matter. She wanted to know if Gwen would ever let her go or if she would keep her contempt forever in spite.

Ethan's mind constantly drifted to his wife and it was during those moments that he would look down to his bare left hand. It hurt him to see that the promise they had made to each other, symbolized in a beautiful band of gold, had been so carelessly discarded. Gwen had no doubt taken it the day she hit him over the head with a hard object. That was the day that his life had changed. His anger rose when he realized had he never accepted to go to the conference, especially when he knew Theresa needed him most, this would all never have happened.

Tears stung in his eyes when he thought of how Gwen had gone after a helpless Theresa with him gone, not able to do anything to help her. If only he hadn't left the house that day. If only he'd have stayed and prevented Gwen from attacking Theresa and her mother. If only he had been there to keep his child safe…

His child…

It was an almost unbearable pain when he thought of the child he would never know. The baby that he would never hold and watch sleep. If he could once understand Gwen's pain and if he could understand her desperation for getting revenge, he couldn't anymore. She had crossed that line of sympathy that he felt for her. All guilt he had felt for her once before had been washed over with anger and hatred. He hated her for what she had done to Theresa. He hated her for what she had done to Pilar. He would never forgive her for seizing his son and he would never be able to let his hatred pass for what she had done his unborn child.

The burning tears that threatened in his eyes were overtaken by anger that pulsed in him and it took every ounce of strength that he had left to restrain himself from doing anything foolish. He needed to think and as many times as he had tried to come up with a way to get out of the cage, he only came up with ideas that couldn't possibly work. He was trapped and it infuriated him to think that he couldn't do a thing about it.

He swallowed hard and tried to imagine what it would be like to have his family again. He wished he could feel Theresa. He wanted to brush Little Ethan's hair with his hands and he wanted Gwen to pay. So many thoughts and so many feelings were coursing through him. It was a minute later that he thought he heard something. It was loud and it sounded almost like something breaking.

Theresa.

His heart panicked immediately. He had heard the helicopter earlier and he begged and begged that she hadn't come for him. He knew Gwen's temper and had almost suffered from it. Ethan could only imagine what fury Gwen was going to unleash and he hated to think about it. When he heard that sound, his mind raced with questions.

What's going on? Was it Theresa? Is she hurt? What is Gwen doing to her? Where's Little Ethan? Did she bring help? How could he get loose?

He thought he heard voices but he couldn't be sure and it only heightened his worry even more. Pilar had been staring at blank nothingness when she stirred at the loud cracking sound of glass. Her expression immediately fell to worry.

"Ethan, what's going on?" she asked extremely concerned.

He said nothing and looked around to investigate. He saw nothing but the sound was terrifying. He couldn't take not being able to protect his wife but he wouldn't be able to sit around and listen to the fight. It was tearing him up inside.

Suddenly, a door that Ethan had been eyeing in the room earlier, the one with the Persian rug in front of it, cracked open and light flooded in, illuminating the darkness. Pilar took in a sharp gasp in fear and shook. Her hand flew to Ethan's knee and he could feel her tightening her touch. They were both afraid of what was to come through that door and he realized that they both had been holding their breaths waiting for whatever it was to emerge.

Images of a bloody and beaten Theresa raced through their minds. Hopeful flashes of a desperate and defeated Gwen flooded Ethan and Pilar's minds and when they waited to see who would be the broken woman, nothing happened. The door was open and they both stared at the empty doorway in suspense. As Pilar strained her neck to see into the lit room, she noticed the broken glass on the floor. Still, there was no one inside, or so it seemed.

Quickly, a figure spun from the door side and stood facing Pilar and Ethan with a gun outstretched. Pilar let out a sharp scream in fear and the man seemed confused. He was hunched slightly, a metal between his hands warming with the rise in his blood pressure. The light pouring in from the window of the bathroom behind him spilled light into the dark room and he was able to make out the outline of some kind of three-dimensional box. Two people were standing in it and he soon recognized their faces.

When Luis heard the scream, he immediately charged from behind the wall to backup his partner. He had first intended to rip through the room, ready to pounce on any enemy and when he saw who was behind the cage, he stopped. He froze in shock and disbelief and everything around him seemed to stand still. Luis pushed past Mark and ran to the black cage. Still in disbelief at who had come through the door, Pilar still hadn't taken in a breath.

"Mijo!" she cried when she saw Luis striding towards the cage.

"Mama!" They ran to the edges of the cage, their hands outstretched. Pilar stopped quickly as she was about to touch the electric confines in front of her. She was so close she could see the white veins of electricity stemming with blue and purple branches. She caught herself from going too far but the millisecond passed rapidly and she didn't have a chance to warn her son of the sparking danger ahead of him. Luis went forward and grabbed two bars in his hands, the one in his right almost straight and the one in his left at an odd angle that seemed odd for a cage.

Luis let out a strange scream when he felt the heat and stinging pain of the bars. The sound was an unrecognizable word and he ripped his hands away quickly. He stared down and his hands were singed, indentions and dark red lines streaking across his palms.

"What the--" Mark yelled. His rigid pose melted and he let his hands fall to his side, bringing his weapon to a safer level.

The sound Luis' flesh made when in contact with the powered steel was unique and none in the room would ever forget it. Luis and Pilar stared at his hands, guilt washing over the latter person for not warning her son of the danger.

"What is this?" a scared Luis asked.

Before Pilar had a chance to answer, Ethan emerged from the dark of the cage. "Gwen has us trapped in here." Luis noted a disheveled-looking Ethan bare-chested and was relieved to see him. He knew how worried Theresa was about him and to see him alive and well relaxed his worry for his sister. If anything had happened to Ethan, Theresa would never be able to forgive herself, Luis knew. His mind went to his little sister and he hoped to every higher power that she was all right, wherever she was.

"Isn't there a way to turn it off?" Luis asked.

"Yeah," Ethan replied. "A little black remote."

Ethan had given Luis a false sense of hope. "Great, where is it?"

Pilar and Ethan shared a resentful stare and slowly turned back to Luis. "Gwen has it," they said together. Even though the words didn't carry much of an impact, Luis felt his heart sink. It was inescapable now. Gwen truly did hold all the cards.

Matt imitated the pompous, New York style detectives he saw on TV as he hurled around bushes and pressed his back against trees. He was on a mission, he knew. It filled him with a sense of adventure and even though he fully grasped the gravity of the situation at hand, he also took some odd pleasure in knowing that it was now up to him to save the day; and he would.

He hadn't told Luis because he knew that he'd take it from him but he brought his 36 automatic with him. When Luis called him, he'd told him about Ethan and where he was, Matt unlocked the safe under his desk and pulled out the dark weapon that sat next to his baseball card collection-- only the most important for the impenetrable protection. After all, it had taken him many years to track down the vintage cards of the entire White Sox team of 1916. If ever there was a fire in the building, Matt was sure that his cards would be safe. The way he saw it, screw the important legal documents everywhere; forget about the vital folders and files, all that mattered was his priceless stack of cards held in their plastic sheets.

On the helicopter, when Luis shouted about Theresa taking his gun, Matt seriously considered giving him his own gun but something inside stopped him. Now as he stood with the heavy steel in his hands ready for battle, he was thankful he listened. He needed it and Luis… well he had Mark. Besides, Matt liked the feeling of holding a gun. It made him feel powerful and in control. If he ran into Gwen, he'd point the gun at her tell her: "Just the facts, ma'am." No, that wasn't it. he thought. "Lower your weapon, miss." That was it! Yes, he would square off with Gwen, look her in the eye and frighten her with his wild abandon and hauntingly evil stare… Matt to the rescue.

The day was in full approach now and even though he didn't feel like checking the watch he wore on his wrist, Matt was sure that it was approximately 9 a.m. or so. The birth of a new day was invigorating to Matt and he loved how the testosterone was flowing through his veins. He walked along the rear side of the cabin and he spotted a window with broken glass. Slowly smiling to himself, Matt readied his thoughts.

This is it. No turning back…

With a quick breath, Matt stood from his crouching position against the base of a tree and held the firearm in front of him, ready for anything. He reached the window and inched carefully around the broken shards on the grass below him. He couldn't cut up his shoes; not his new ones. He stepped slowly, closer to the window, and he winced when he heard a crack under his weight, hating the sound. He took one more quick look around him and pushed himself up and through the window, barely escaping the sharp edges of glass that had cut Luis' face. A simple rip etched across his jacket and he frowned when he was halfway through the window. Even though he made much effort to avoid any noise that might come from his entry, he didn't succeed. Matt's jacket rustled against the window panes and when his arms where through the window, he pulled himself into the room with his hands grasping at the flat floor.

Luis, Mark, Ethan, and Pilar all stood in the room, the latter two still in the caged prison in the middle of the room. It had been days since Ethan actually saw light and it hurt his eyes when Luis found a light switch near one of the doors. There was a simple light bulb on the ceiling but at least it wasn't complete darkness anymore. It took a few moments for Ethan and Pilar to adjust to the brightness but soon they were fine, their pupils shrinking to a normal size.

Mark kept lookout near one of the doors while Luis tried to figure out what was going on. Ethan explained what Gwen had said and done over the time he was there and it was then that he realized that he had no idea how long she had been keeping him.

"How long have I been here?" Ethan asked, breaking the conversation about Gwen.

Luis looked at Ethan, guilt and remorse for something he had nothing to do with overcoming his being. "Four days."

For some reason, emotion started creeping into his throat. The entire situation around him was closing in and it all started to feel more real to Ethan. He had gone over the incident in his mind hundreds of times and yet it had all just started to sink in. He really was inside of a human-made cage and there was nothing he could do about it.

"And Theresa…? How-how is she? Is she here?" Concern and hope pushed into his voice when he spoke of his wife. He'd give anything to know that she was away from Gwen and far from anything that she could inflict.

Luis didn't want to lie but he couldn't let his mother or his brother-in-law know of his own concern. It was bad enough that they were being held captive in a cage by a psychopath. They didn't need to be bothered with his own worries about Theresa. "She's… she's fine."

"Where is she?" Ethan pressed.

Tearing his eyes from Ethan and putting them to the floor, Luis again escaped the full truth. "She got here before we did." He knew that it still didn't answer Ethan's question as to her well being but he guessed that his half answer had sufficed for the moment; Ethan said nothing, his face full of worry for the woman that he knew would do anything that needed to be done. "But don't worry," Luis interrupted his thoughts. "She has my gun. She'll be fine. I mean… you know Theresa."

For a brief moment, Ethan smiled for the first time in a long time. He had almost forgot what happiness was for the time he had spent inside of the bar-crossed hell. Even though Ethan knew full well that when Theresa had her mind set to something, she wouldn't back down, and she wasn't exactly the easiest person to beat by any standards, it didn't exactly hold for physical confrontation; he knew that's exactly what would happen if Gwen found her. He just prayed that the noise he heard earlier wasn't what he feared. He couldn't bear to think of what Gwen would do to Theresa if it came to that.

Everyone's thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise, almost like an animal struggling to crawl through brick. It was like a scratching, a defeated attempt to claw at something and then a fierce scrape clattered with a hard thump. All of their attention made them turn to the open door in the room, the one leading to the bathroom that Luis and Mark had entered through. Mark, gun in hand, walked slowly over to the bathroom and waited for whatever assailant to show himself.

More noise continued and it was beginning to get quite annoying. Mark simply stepped into the doorway and found a struggling Matt trying to get his feet through the window while writhing on the floor and trying to escape the shattered glass. It was an almost laughable scene, something that commanded humor and pity for the embarrassing man. It was then that Matt realized that he was not alone. He tilted his head up and found familiar eyes staring at him. Without a word, it was as if he were given some kind of magical substance and he lifted himself from the floor without hesitation and brushed his shoulders, pushing the pain from his foot away so they wouldn't notice.

Luis watched from the side of the cage as Matt further proved himself to be unfit of any respect in his eyes and forced himself not to laugh, his own aggravation taking over him. "Matt…"

A dirty and tousled Matt walked through the bathroom, past Mark, and into the room with everyone staring at him. He did his best to pretend like that didn't just happen and looked around the room until he spotted Ethan.

"Ethan!" He walked to the cage and pulled on the bars. It wasn't long before he screamed out in a burning pain when the electricity shot at his palms. "Woh… what was that!"

"Sorry, Matt. Long story," Ethan informed.

"Matt, what the hell are you doing here?" Luis demanded.

Matt didn't listen and continued to stare at the bars and crossed metal in fascination. "Wow… who built this?" His eyes grew wide and he toured around it taking in all of the sides curiously. "Ethan, man, why didn't you tell me you had a little love prison!"

"I was kidnapped, Matt!" Ethan exclaimed.

It was almost scary how amazed Matt was with the cage, but then again, it was Matt. The very man that crawled through a window, face up and who had gotten his shoes stuck in a window pane. It didn't exactly say very much.

Luis noticed the gun in Matt's hand and suddenly anger grew inside of him. It was starting not to phase him when he got mad at Matt; it seemed all too natural. "Who's gun is that, Matt?" his high temper reflecting in the question.

"It's mine. Got a problem?" Luis said nothing and Matt continued to examine the fine handiwork that kept his partner behind bars.

"Luis, mijo," Pilar began, "is there a way to get us out of here?"

Luis looked over the cage up and down and pressed his mind to think of a way to turn off the electricity. The bars were all too close together somehow get inside the cage without touching them. He couldn't cut open the bars because any metal tool would buzz right through it into him. He had to hand it Gwen, she had definitely thought of the perfect prison. "I'm sorry, mama. I'm not sure yet."

"But there has to be a way," Ethan said desperately. His patience was way past its waning point and knowing that Theresa was in danger again was eating at him.

"How? The only way would be to get to Gwen and taking that remote. Otherwise… I have no idea."

Luis, Ethan, and Mark spoke of electrical things and possible ways to get them out and every option led to the same thing: It wouldn't work. Pilar watched Matt and she had to admit that she couldn't get over the dumbfounded look in the man's face. He had a strange look in his eyes and she couldn't see how he was Ethan's practicing partner. He looked anything but intelligent and he certainly didn't act it.

Matt circled the cage and he found a big white thing in the corner of the room. It intrigued him and he walked to it, Pilar's eyes still on him. As he got closer, he noticed that it was a white tarp over something. He was as curious as they came and it pushed him to see what was underneath. As he lifted the tarp, a crinkling noise went with it as it fell to the floor. Matt stood staring at a large black object and when he knelt next to it, he heard a soft noise, almost like a humming sound. It was doing something but he didn't know what. He studied the small machine and wondered what it could possibly be doing, and in that room no less. On the bottom, he noticed wheels and even lower was a black cord. His eyes followed it and it wound away a few feet and it ended at a wall… in a socket. The black machine was plugged in.

Pilar watched Matt and she too looked at the black thing on the floor. She had seen something similar to it once but she didn't know what it was then either. Hoping to figure it out, she stared at it and still listened to the men discuss ways out. Matt traced the cord up to the wall and he pulled. Suddenly, the room went black and the humming stopped.

"Oops…"

Luis spun and looked around. "Matt!"