-1Author's note: Ok, so, I know the last chapter was a bit of a different format… but that was so I could get it back on track! Look how nicely Vegas and I are getting along! I know it's a short chapter, but that's because the next one wraps up EVERYTHING! One more chapter after this! Anyway, please enjoy chapter 17!
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The house looked dead. And that was saying something for it being in a neighborhood that had cops making regular trips to it. As a matter of fact, as Brass and a few squad cars pulled up to the dark house, a shot could be heard not far in the distance, followed by the cry of sirens. Brass shook his head, and turned back to the building in front of him. Right now, he had to focus. This could be the end.
He prayed that it would be.
The soft crackle of his radio alerted him, and he reached for it, whispering a copy. It was Nick on the other side, "We're good to go. If you find anything…"
He trailed off. Brass could tell the CSI was thinking the worst and he wasn't going to let that dissipate his hope of finding his friends alive, "When we find Grissom and Sara and get them outta here… I'll let you know."
Turning off his radio, Brass moved to the front of his car. He signaled for a few men to follow him, then made his way to the front of the house. He undid his holster and laid a sweaty palm on the grip of his gun.
It wasn't until he heard the scream that he drew it out.
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Grissom felt his heart shattering. Not for himself, having to watch the sight before him, but for Sara, as dirty hands ran under her shirt, as Matthew's thick frame hovered over her body.
Sara squeezed her eyes shut, and pretended to be somewhere else. She threw kicks and tried to break free of his grasp as she sipped tea at home. She tried to pretend that what Matthew wanted to do wasn't about to happen as she fought to get free.
Matthew laughed manically as he held his victim down, and came closer to ecstasy as his other victim yelled frantically behind him. He concentrated on what he was doing. So much so that he didn't hear the door upstairs being kicked in. He couldn't feel the shift in the air. He couldn't smell death closing in.
He didn't know anything had changed until the screaming stopped.
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"LVPD! We have a warrant!" Brass shouted as he pushed into the house, gun drawn. He motioned the men behind him further into the house, pointing out the kitchen just down the hall and the stairs that lead up just to the right. We walked further in, pulling open a closet door, clearing the only hiding space in the narrow hallway.
He reached for the next handle. He twisted, and pulled it towards him. The door didn't budge. He tried again, this time steadying his gun at the door. A few of the men returned, watching as he tugged at the door. He took a deep breath held up his fingers. Time seemed to slow as he counted down…
Five.
Matthew stared down at Sara when he heard the footsteps shifting at the basement door. His mischievous grin turned into a tight frown. Clammy hands moved from under her shirt, and moved slowly to her neck and his back pocket.
Four.
His grip tightened around the healing flesh around her neck and the cool barrel of a gun pressed forcefully against her temple. His ears were deaf to the sound of Grissom yelling. His eyes and brain were focused on the frightened face underneath him.
Three.
How is it that after all these years, he could stare at this face underneath him and feel anger only for her? Hadn't this started out as something different? Hadn't he said just moments ago that this was about revenge? But now, staring at the shaking figure underneath him, her couldn't help but feel rage beyond anything he had known in the two years that had gone by.
Two.
Matthew pressed the gun harder against her temple. "This is… all… your fault," he seethed. He didn't hear the door being kicked in behind him. He didn't hear the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs. He didn't hear Brass's command to drop his weapon and step away from Sara.
One.
He didn't hear the sound of the gun firing. And he didn't feel the bullet ripping through his flesh. He didn't see the blood pool around his chest.
Or the gun drop from his hand as darkness overtook him and his final breath left his body.